#wash and tucker are close and lean on each other

[slyvester101]

After everything that happened with Crunchbite (the bastard) and Junior’s probably horrific and painful birth, I imagine Tucker is more than a little wary about letting strangers near him.

He gets this hollow feeling in his gut when he’s around people he doesn’t know, gets an itch in his skin if he’s touched by someone he doesn’t trust. His throat tightens and his heart squeezes and his hands shake. He’s not able to sleep well around strangers, has to keep his back to the wall or else he’s waking every five minutes to make sure no one’s snuck up behind him.

He spends his whole diplomacy curled up in a ball in the corner of his room with Junior tucked under his chin, keeps his distance from the soldiers stuck on his missions and keeps them away with sharp smiles and horrible flirting that would make anyone cringe away.

At the desert temple, when he’s all alone with nothing but hostiles banging on the door, Tucker laments in how much he misses touch, misses the freedom of being able to hug someone without fear of harm, of being able to know if a touch was friendly or manipulative. He misses Blood Gulch. He misses blue team. He misses his son.

Even after Sidewinder, Tucker still isn’t in the clear, isn’t allowed some respite with his team because the latest member is yet another Freelancer who was chasing to kill them not even less than twenty-four hours ago.

His skin is buzzing the whole time they’re being shown around their new base by Caboose, his heart not settling despite the action being long over, his brain screams as someone grabs his shoulder. He screams out loud too, it seems, because the hand is pulling back quickly and a soft apologetic voice is echoing through his head.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t fucking touch me, asshole.” Tucker all but hissed before he stormed away, unwilling to let this new prick see the way his hands shake and the way his face has gone pale.

He hates it. He hates it. He hates how he can’t even stand close to the fucker without feeling ill, can’t help but track his every movement and every word for some kind of malice or cruel intent.

He finds none.

He’s kind to Caboose, politely nodding along to whatever he rants about and keeping him out of trouble with much kinder words that Church was probably physically incapable of speaking. He’s kind to Tucker even though he’s been nothing but a paranoid asshole the whole time they’ve been at Valhalla, never taking offense to the distance Tucker puts between them and respecting whatever lines Tucker draws.

It takes a long time for him to feel comfortable enough to let Washington touch him, not quite as long to start giving him shit like he would’ve with Church. Slowly and cautiously, they fall into a groove that’s uniquely theirs and Tucker feels like he can finally breathe in his own goddamn house.

His trust in Wash is cemented when Carolina comes into the picture and constantly steps in as a barrier between the two, Washington knowing that Carolina would try to scruff or yank Tucker around for his big mouth and that Tucker would probably rip her hand off if she tried. He’s the only reason the two aqua soldiers don’t kill each other. That fact becomes undoubtedly true when Wash choses Tucker over Carolina, pointing his gun at her as she threatens Tucker.

Caboose was always a steady presence to the chaos in his head, the gentle giant sometimes being the only reason Tucker didn’t fall apart at the seams while he cried his fears into his chest, but Wash is a different kind of support that Tucker didn’t know he needed, one he doesn’t think he’s ever had.

It doesn’t stop him from getting that itch in his skin when he’s surrounded by strangers, it doesn’t stop the sick feeling he gets when he wakes up from a nightmare, it doesn’t make everything better.

But Tucker thinks, kind of incredulously, that maybe he can finally be safe with these two by his side. Maybe, just maybe, he can really let his guard down and have someone else watch his back.

Maybe he can finally let someone in.

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch... something. I hurt so much. It's some number. You'll figure it out. You're smart, darlings.

masterpost over on @clockwaysadmin

Danny stayed at the back, trailing after the rambunctious flock of Waynes as they made their way behind the stage and to the other, hidden side of the theater. It made Danny smile, to see the family bumping shoulders, teasing, and laughing with each other.

His life in Gotham was something that Danny loved. He’d clawed it out from the proverbial grave of his death and everything that came with it: nearly failing high school, his failing health after, the trauma it left him with, the relationship with his parents he left behind. But he’d gotten to the surface. He got his Bachelors and Masters and PHD. He got a job that he traded for another and another until he rose up to where he worked at an amazing company and got mostly left alone to dream up new ways to make the world better.

Danny loved it.

But that didn’t mean that Danny didn’t miss the close friendships that (metaphorically and physically), Danny had moved away from to achieve what he had. Visiting Jazz and Taylor, Sam and her brood, or Tucker and his partners wasn’t the same as living with them close. He missed what the Waynes had with an ache so deep that he had to push it aside so that it didn’t swallow him whole.

“Cass!”

Tim calling his sister’s name shook Danny out of his rumination. He found a little out of the way spot of wall to lean against between some boxes and rolls of scenery.

“You were amazing, darling,” Bruce said as he leaned in to kiss Cass’ cheek.

Bruce handed over the bouquet of white roses and babies-breath that he had brought from where it had been stored in the sitting room. Cass basically buried her face in the flowers and inhaled.

“For real, little sis, your moves were amazing. You have to show me how you hold some of those poses so still,” Dick said.

“As if you could stay still,” Barbara teased with a well placed poke to Dick’s side that made him squeak and move defensively behind Cass.

“Pretty sure she beats you in flexibility now too, dickhead,” Jason said.

“It is okay, love you still,” Cass said in her soft tone. She pulled out one of the roses from the mass of flowers and tucked it behind Dick’s ear.

Dick looked momentarily torn if he should be insulted or fond, though fond quickly won out and he pressed a little kiss to the top of Cass’ head. It seemed to be a signal, somehow, and suddenly all of the family was talking to Cass or to each other. The fatigue was starting to pull too heavily on Danny for him to make out most of the chatter, so he simply closed his eyes and let the happy voices wash over him.

There was a gentle pressure on his arm. Danny blinked his eyes open to a worried Cass, dark brows furrowed above the dramatic white and glitter of her stage make up. Danny smiled, though he knew it probably looked a little drawn.

“Hello, Cass,” Danny signed.

The furrow between the bows only grew as she signed. “You okay?”

“Okay. Tired,” Danny replied before he gave up to talking verbally. The sleep clouded his mind about signs right then. He really would have to practice. “I’m just a little out of sorts, but I’m very glad I came. Thank you for inviting me. You danced absolutely wonderfully. I don’t know much about ballet, but even I could see how skilled you are.”

“Thank you. I am glad you came. Could have not,” she said.

“Of course I had to come, you invited me and it’s an important night for you. It should be!” Danny made himself stand up away from the wall and put a bit more energy into his smile. “I’m fine, really, fatigue just gets me sometimes.”

Cass turned his frown away from Danny and directed it at her father.

“I already talked Danny into letting us give him a ride home,” Bruce replied.

“I really would be fine,” Danny couldn’t help but argue. “I’ve made it home in worse states than this.”

“Oddly enough,” Jason interjected, “you really aren’t helping your case.”

Danny couldn’t do anything else but give an unrepentant little shrug to that. He probably wasn’t, but it was true. Besides, he had already agreed to the ride, not that he felt he had much choice. It was too easy to be swept along by the Waynes.

Barbara may be right that they did absorb people.

[talshiargirlfriend]

The first time… she mentions their relationship to someone else.

Dress uniforms, wine glasses, and a hulking - and frankly, kind of tacky - Xindi War Memorial. Trip does not want to be here. He just hopes he has honed his diplomacy skills well enough over the past few years that it doesn’t show on his face just how badly he does not want to be here. He doesn’t want to chitchat with various dignitaries. He definitely doesn’t want to walk over to the ostentatious stone monument and highlight Tucker, Elizabeth Allison, but of course he will.

The large column is slightly more tasteful up close; the screen displaying the names is subdued in appearance and cool to the touch.

He still doesn’t want to be here.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he catches T’Pol’s gentle voice coming from the other side of the pillar.

“I grieve with thee.”

There’s a bit of rusting and sniffling. “Thank you.”

The second voice sounds young. “My cousin and his wife,” she explains. “They were talking about having a baby. I was so excited to be an auntie.”

After a moment the young woman continues, “Did you lose someone?”

“I lost several crewmates,” T’Pol answers quietly. “… and my sister-in-law was killed in the Xindi attack on Earth. I did not have the opportunity to know her, but my partner loved her very much.”

He can hear the sympathetic smile in the second voice. “Then I grieve with you too.”

This is the first time he’s ever heard T’Pol reference their relationship. He’d like to revel in the moment, but a fresh surge of grief washes over him, wondering what Lizzie would have made of T’Pol and how they would have gotten along. He suspects his sister would have been charmed by his partner’s dry wit and quiet warmth. In turn, Lizzie would have worn T’Pol down with her relentless good cheer and impertinent sense of humor. He’ll never know.

Of course, if Lizzie had lived he wouldn’t have leaned on T’Pol to cope with his overwhelming pain and rage. They might not have come to understand each other so deeply or learned how well they complement one another. There’s a peculiar sort of grief in that as well, in considering a life in which he never loved T’Pol and was never loved by her.

“Are you all right?” T’Pol has finished talking to the girl on the other side of the column and joins him, her face full of sympathy.

Trip sighs.

“I am,” he answers honestly. “Just paying my respects to your sister-in-law.” He flashes her a crooked smile.

T’Pol looks down uncertainly. “It seemed the simplest description. Do you object?”

As if he would deny her this or anything, regardless of their legal status or complicated history.

“Of course not. I think she would have liked you, ya know.”

“I sure do,” he adds softly, and she meets his eye with a hint of a smile.

He reaches out to briefly take her hand, and she grips his with a firm squeeze, a tangible reminder that for all his melancholy thoughts of what could have been, he is loved by her here and now. That’s enough to get him through the next few awkward hours.

“Come on, let’s go find our table before it’s time for Jon’s speech.”

“I hope it’s the one with the gazelles,” T’Pol deadpans as she falls into step with him.

His snort of laughter draws a few curious looks.

[twst-drabbles]

Octavinelle 12

Summary: You have a clear bag full of towels on your lap. Inside, one will find that they’re all wet along with three little napping faces snuggled into them.

“What…” Divus trailed off, as though hesitant to get involved in whatever situation you might possibly be in. He continued anyway, “…do you have in that bag?”

You looked down at your lap and shuffled deeper into the bench. You lightly shook your clear bag, full of almost soaked towels. “Towels.”

“Yes I see that,” he sighed while he dragged his hand down his face. It’s fun to annoy him when the opportunity presents itself. “Why are they wet?”

“Can’t really be having dry towels. They’d get all slimy.” And slime is very hard to wash and dry off.

“I’m…” Divus sighed then whispered, “why do I even bother?”

“Hey, you asked.” You shrugged. Just to dispel, or further baffle, him, you nudged your bag open. “Well? Come take a look.”

“It better not be anything disgusting.” He leaned in. It does make you laugh, the way he trusts you even though you’re in a bit of mischievous mood. “Huh? Oh!”

Inside your bag, clear and waterproof, were three napping little faces. Azul, Jade and Floyd were wrapped up like little towel burritos, but as you’ve come to learn, they all tend to move and thrash in their sleep, so now they’re just laying on each other. Azul was at the bottom, Jade wrapped in a lazy circle around him, and Floyd snuggling into a tentacle of his.

“I let them swim in the river during my hike.” You patted your bag closed. “They got all tuckered out.”

“Seafolk do have sensitive skin,” Divus huffed and pushed his loose strands of hair back, “Good on you to have these towels pre-soaked. They seem to napping peacefully.”

You nodded then leaned back to let yourself soak in the sun. “Very peacefully. They certainly weren’t when they were awake. You wouldn’t believe the energy they have. Seems like since they got used to the bright light, they’ve all been raring to go.”

“If the look in your eyes was of any indication, I can believe it. Need me to get you a sleeping potion?”

“No. I’m pretty sure that would make things worse.”

[kineticallyanywhere]

Out of pure curiousity you mentioned once that you were thinking of maybe some sort of sequelish thing to MoM- is that still something you have as a potential project or is the book closed on MoM? No pressure either way, I'm just curious because in my opinion MoM has one of those perfect endings that makes you wish the journey was longer just because you weren't ready to say goodbye and the idea of more MoM maybe even more then Actually Having More MoM interests me

It has come to my attention that I have newer followers who were unaware of my Red vs Blue fixation phase. For those people, here's a link to the fic in question: Mind over Matter on Ao3

The book is almost certainly closed on that, my fixations have moved on and I agree with you about the ending being this bittersweet balance of wanting more but not quite being willing to risk how well the landing stuck. but I had two ideas, one for a companion and one for a sequel.

(summaries and writing excerpts below the cut)

The companion is basically a long one-shot from Carolina's PoV that takes place during MoM. I actually wrote quite a bit of it! it's the most likely to get finished one day. you'd get to see her and everyone else's reaction to Wash and Epsilon going missing, and it would fill in a lot of details that Our Boys don't get to see. For example, in the last chapter Wash's helmet is present because Carolina and Tucker managed to recover his armor during their frantic raiding of enemy bases to find them. Also, Sarge and Simmons weren't supposed to be the team at the base where Our Boys got rescued. It was supposed to be Tucker and his team, but Tucker was so distracted looking for Wash and Church that they had to put the Reds on it. You'd also get a bit of Emily talking about more technical details for what was going on with Wash's brain while he and Epsilon were super-fused together. Oh! it also would have explained how they were able to get a new chip printed for Wash so fast. the base they raided to get Wash's armor also had the equipment and data used to make the taser-chip that they put Epsilon into in chapter 1.

An excerpt, because of course this got me to find my old file. Takes place after the rescue:

Grey finally puts down her datapad. “I'll keep chipping away at what I can, but I just don't have an answer for you right now, Carolina. The science of neurotechnology isn't exactly new, but it's still very unexplored. We may have to prepare ourselves to wait for answers until they can fix themselves.” “And how long will that take?” Carolina asks, as if she hasn’t already assigned herself indefinitely to this chair.  “Ooh, feisty! Careful, or Caboose will grab the spray bottle again. Can’t have you climbing any more walls.”  Carolina’s patience for jokes is about as thin as the arm rests on her seat, which creak under her hands. “So you can’t tell me anything.” Dr. Grey’s smile dims a few watts. She tilts her head, thoughtfully. Then she says, “My best guess is: whatever protocols got broken, Epsilon would have had to have broken them himself.” “But--” “But, he would never have done that to himself. Or to Agent Washington. They're both prickly and emotionally constipated -- and there's a buffet of redacted history between them I would simply love to sink my teeth into, given the chance. But. They care about each other. Church wouldn't have taken it this far without Wash's input; and Wash wouldn't have let him. They got into this together. They'll get out together, too.” Because Carolina’s life makes no sense, suddenly all she can think about is Caboose, several days ago, in the meeting room.  “They’re gonna be okay.”  Back in the present, Grey chirps, all sunshine and rainbows again, “So we’ll just have to hurry up and wait!” Carolina slumps back in her chair. “You are really… not my favorite person.” “Well of course not!” She leans over the bed to frame Wash’s face with one hand. “Look at my competition!” Then she swaps out the bandage on his face with ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ fluidity.

the sequel would have gone full AU from before the epilogue of MoM. It would really just be me self-indulgently sinking my teeth into all of Blue Team's issues, with the added bonus of Wash and Epsilon having sorted through their own issues and it casts a harsh light on how every other relationship on the team hasn't really sorted out theirs. Accomplished by trapping them all in a tunnel system through Chorus with a bunch of mercs/pirates and juggling around which combinations of characters are split up with each other.

Carolina and Tucker probably the juiciest, because their understanding and history of every other member of the team is starkly different from each other:

“When Wash led you all back for us--” “‘Wash led?” Tucker parrots back. He actually laughs. “Love to break this to you, but Wash was the last one who wanted to go back for you.” Carolina’s head, maybe her whole body, empties out in a single moment. “...what?” Tucker jabs himself in the chest like he wishes his finger was sharper. “I’m the dipshit who couldn’t live with himself if you both suicided. He just got swept up in every other idiot suddenly growing a hero complex. I don’t know what Agent Washington was like, but Wash is the stone-cold asshat with abandonment issues."

Also featuring Caboose getting to hug Blue Squared.

Maybe one day I'll spend a summer sinking back into that hottub of Red vs Blue brainrot, but for now we can daydream

[mostly-ghostly-murphy]

Saturday, 11/11

I had a really nice day. My goal for the day was to put all my bullshit and whining and pettiness and larger anxieties aside and just try to live in the moment, and I absolutely feel like I did that.

I slept in (until like 9:15 but that's sleeping in in my world, lmao) and then spent a few hours cuddled on the couch, drinking coffee, catching up on online stuff, and watching old Watcher videos. Man, I would do ANYTHING for them to bring Weird Wonderful World back. Truly anything.

When the afternoon came, I drove out to Hooksett to meet Ellie and Shay for our movie day! We grabbed some pizza at Block Party and caught each other up on all the stupid gossip of the week, and for a second I let myself forget this was my workplace and just leaned on my friends. I have a girl gang. So Sex and the City of me.

We went to see Killers of the Flower Moon, which was WONDERFUL. A little overlong, but not terrible, it all felt very vital. Lily Gladstone absolutely ran away with the movie, what a star-making performance. I don't think it's my favorite movie of the year, but I'm really glad I saw it, especially since it's probably walking away with the Oscar. It's my favorite Scorcese for sure.

On our way back home, we went to Wal-Mart so Ellie could buy some makeup and Shay could flit around the book section imagining which tables her future bestseller will go on, and I resisted the urge to spend my whole wallet on Christmas decor. Let it be said that I'm extremely tempted. But it was just a really nice, friend-domestic way to cap off the day.

I took a shower when I got home, and washed my hair, so it would have plenty of time to dry. I chatted with Liz and Bernie for a bit, and Bernie helped me hang up my New York photo and painting of Tucker! Better late than never to get my own decor up on the walls <3 I had soup and watched a few more Watcher videos (I'm all caught up on WWW now except for the Montana video! Tragic!), and I am just feeling really cozy and at peace and not overwhelmed by the night.

I'm going to go to bed relatively early, since tomorrow is a VERY big day, Pascal (Christmas closing day at Six Flags!). I feel cozy and safe in my bed. I'm happy, and I am so happy to be happy.

[rubykgrant]

(After everybody listens to the other messages Epsilon left behind for them, and start to process how they feel)

When they start coming back out of their rooms (helmets on again), nobody is quite sure what to say to each other. Some of them want to talk… about Church, what he said to them, how it made them feel… but what if the others DIDN’T want to share it all? They wind up shuffling into the living room area again, standing around awkwardly. Grif and Simmons gravitate toward each other subconsciously, because they ALWAYS do that, nobody ever questions it (and nobody suspects that right now, they both want to be as close as possible. They don’t even realize it themselves). Sarge initially stands off on his own, but then there is Lopez by his side, and Sarge gives the robot an agreeable nod (evidently accepting his company).

Caboose’s face is hidden, but everybody can hear the sniffles coming from him and know he’s been crying (they’ve ALL been crying, Caboose is just very obvious about it). Doc and Donut both glance at each other, silently deciding that somebody needs to give Caboose a hug. They walk over, raise their arms up, and Caboose instantly leans down to embrace them (from his point of view, they are asking HIM for comfort, and he’s happy to do it). Carolina walks out to the middle of the room and stops… she hadn’t meant to, she’s not trying to literally be the “center of attention”, but she feels a rather nasty sob threatening to break free, so she pauses and waits for it to pass (it doesn’t actually let go of her, but she at least makes it sound smaller). Wash starts to go toward her, then abruptly haults… he wants to offer her a shoulder to cry on, the way Donut and Doc are with Caboose, but she might not want that right now (absentmindedly, his hand goes up to rub at his neck… right where the most recent scar is). Tucker walks past Wash and stands with his arms crossed, almost like he’s sulking (he’s actually not upset, just thinking… he wants to lighten the mood SOMEHOW).

Finally, Tucker finds the words.

“Damn it, Church… you really had to wait until you were DEAD to say you liked us? You repressed nerd,”

Everybody around him freezes. Well, he’s got their attention, he might as well keep going.

“No, wait, do you guys think he did this on PURPOSE? Because he freaking WOULD,” Tucker feels a hand on his shoulder. Wash. He also hears something behind him, a little bit like a guilty and amused snicker… also Wash.

Over to one side, Grif and Simmons are trying and failing to control their own laughter (glancing at each other only makes it worse). Sarge lets out a snort while Lopez mechanically chuckles. Caboose has lifted up his head to look at Tucker, Doc turning around slightly to do the same. The only one in the three-person-hug who doesn’t glance in Tucker’s direction is Donut… who is making a sputtering noise that is going to turn into a giggle-fit if he doesn’t stop it. Carolina hasn't moved or made a noise.

Tucker decides that he’s making progress at least. Hearing the others laugh is good, the tension and sadness had been almost SUFFOCATING in here before, but now he can actually breathe. He drops his arms and leans around, back toward Wash.

“I stood around and talked with Alpha for YEARS, and he tried to act like he was too damn jaded to be sentimental. Then I stand around talking with Epsilon for what FELT like years, and he tries to act like he's not a softie either... then what does he do? Saves all the emotional honesty for when he kicks the bucket. He KNEW it was gonna mess us up, he just had to have the LAST WORD-” he’s suddenly cut-off by a soft voice… but this is a voice he knows means BUSINESS, a voice that can be DANGEROUS… even when the volume was low.

“Tucker, you… just knock it OFF, Tucker…” Carolina sounds tense, her voice is strained, she’s stepping closer to him, and HE HAS MADE A BIG MISTAKE, HE SHOULDN’T HAVE STARTED JOKING SO SOON…

She wraps one arm all the way around him, putting her hand on the one Wash is still resting on Tucker’s shoulder, touching them both. Her other arm grabs on to Tucker as well, and her head leans down against his neck. For moment, Tucker does nothing, he’s just standing there, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. Is she gonna get him in a head-lock? Throw him across the room?

“D-don’t make me la-haha-LAUGH when I’m already CRYING you- you stupid jerk…” she sniffs and shakes against him slightly.

Oh… this was OK? Yeah, it seems to actually be OK. Carolina wasn’t going to murder him. She was still crying a bit, but also LAUGHING. It was making her voice crack. This was happening. Tucker does the only thing he can think of; he hugs her back (as always, careful to put his hands in places that could not at all be confused for trying to cop a feel).

“WOAH, a Carolina hug? See? Do you all see what Church did? He broke her!” Tucker finally feels safe, and the others are laughing much louder now.

“Honestly, I was surprised that Church could be so… nice? And comforting?” Doc says to Donut.

“I know right?” Donut replies. “He was secretly a sweet-heart the whole time!” he and Doc both still have Caboose’s arms wrapped around them. It feels good, being able to just casually embrace each other.

Over in their own little world, Grif and Simmons are talking now too.

“Kinda crazy, huh?” Simmons leans towards Grif, bringing one hand up in a questioning gesture. “I mean, Tucker's right. Every Church we ever knew, he was always complaining and insulting us, but then-“

“-then he goes and pulls a noble sacrifice on us, AND gets all sappy after the fact,” Grif finishes for him. He sounds sarcastic, but Simmons has listened to Grif mumble and grumble long enough to notice the difference between disdain and endearment. “Pick a lane, Church!”

Off to their right, they hear Sarge clear his throat. Grif turns to look, and Simmons snaps his head up to pay attention for any potential orders.

“Well, I wouldn’t have any PERSONAL insight to this kinda thing, but if I had to guess… he, ah- he maybe wasn’t quite sure HOW to tell us anything nice after so much time spent of actin’ like he didn’t really care…” Sarge is keeping his voice casual and calm… which sounds VERY odd, coming from him. It exposes him right away; he actually DOES have some personal insight to this kinda thing. “And he pro’lly thought he’d have more time later to figure out how to be honest, maybe even let us know some of stuff that, ah- that Alpha never got 'round to tellin' us, but then we were all suddenly in a bad situation, and he had to make a choice… so he chose to save us and say everything he really wanted us to hear… even though he’d never hear what WE want to say to HIM,”

Lopez gently pats Sarge’s head. Normally, Sarge would threaten anybody who dared to there-there him, but… well, somehow it seems alright. Coming from Lopez, this isn’t condescending. He chuckles again; he really must be getting soft.

“Imagine that, gettin’ as close as ‘ya can to somebody, and not even telling ‘em the truth of how ‘ya feel…”

Sarge is talking about Church… and himself. Part of him WANTS to just turn to everybody in this room and tell them they MATTER, that they are important to him. He doesn’t, because it still feels like he has to hold that part of himself back… he will though. Eventually he WILL, and internally promises this to himself (and to Church).

Simmons is looking admiringly at Sarge, somehow guessing exactly what Sarge came close to admitting. As much as he’d like to hear praise from the man who has been a very important authority figure for most of his adult life, he’s also used to reading between the lines when it came to what Sarge said.

Grif is looking at him too… because that had sounded incredibly INSIGHTFUL. He doesn't expect to hear stuff like that from SARGE. Just like he didn't expect to hear compliments from CHURCH. Grif keeps playing certain words on repeat in his head… getting as close as you can to somebody… telling them the truth of how you feel… oh, he’s in TROUBLE, he is reading WAY too much into it, why the heck does everything make him think of SIMMONS? He had to stop this feeling from creeping up on him, this sappy and wistful feeling, it was TERRIBLE.

“Hmm… well, speaking of sharing our feelings…” Wash sounds like he has something planned… he leans closer to Tucker and Carolina, who are now standing side-by-side, arms over each other’s shoulders. “You know what I think we should all do? We should watch the Care Bears movie!”

“… seriously?” Carolina can’t mistake that excited and yet sincere voice Wash uses when he talks about something that’s VERY important to him… but, Care Bears? She MUST have heard him wrong. Tucker’s just glad Carolina questioned him first, because he was about ready to say something to Wash that would sound a LOT less nice.

“Yeah, seriously! The Care Bears were my FAVORITE as a kid!” he really WAS talking about the Care Bears. Oh, and now he was getting on a ROLL… “They literally fight evil spirits and monsters that infect people with hatred and sadness, and they do it with the power of love and friendship, and they all have unique personalities and magical abilities-”

“OH MY GOSH, the Care Bears sound AWESOME!!!” Caboose is excitedly jumping up and down (practically levitating with glee), while still holding on to Donut and Doc, so they have no choice but to bounce along with him.

“Haha, I guess we’re watching the Care Bears!” Donut throws a hand up in defeat. If Wash wanted to do it, they definitely had to; he had recently been hurt… your friends were obligated to comply with your nonsensical requests in situations like that. Even if that wasn’t the case, now that SOMEBODY was on board, they would have to go along with it or suffer a moody and melancholy Caboose. Basically, they had no choice… not that Donut really minded. The Care Bears seemed like something he would genuinely enjoy. Doc also had no complaints… sharing your feelings? Rediscovering comforting things from your childhood? This was a wonderful idea!

“Heck yeah, let’s do this! We’ll watch the original Care Bears movie first, and then we’ll watch A New Generation, and THEN-” Wash wasn’t just on a roll, he was turning this into a MARATHON.

“Dang Wash, how many freaking Care Bears movies are there?” Tucker is mostly just complaining for show… he’s forced them to watch Reservoir Dogs more than a dozen times by now. He can sit through Care Bears (he’s just going to heckle Wash the whole time).

Wash leads the way to the little den area where the TV is, followed by Tucker, Carolina, Sarge, Lopez, Doc, Donut, and Caboose… now the only ones left are Grif and Simmons.

Grif is still lost in thought, and he’s now very aware of the fact that the two of them are ALONE. They’re alone here, together, standing very close, and that FEELING is creeping up again, only this time it seems more URGENT, like he has to say something, he keeps babbling like an idiot but there’s one thing he hasn’t said, one thing he COULDN’T say, he's NEVER said it, but every time he doesn’t say it something happens, something bad that almost gets one or both of them killed, and then he thinks he lost his chance, until it turns out they’re both OK, and he just decides to not say it, it can wait, but now he HAS to, HE HAS TO SAY IT.

“Well, I better go show them how to switch the cords on the TV before Sarge gets mad and punches it…” Simmons sighs, and begins to walk away.

To Grif, that seems like a very BAD thing, and he has to stop Simmons from leaving. If he doesn’t, Simmons will be gone, and then Grif will be alone, and this rotten feeling will KILL him.

“… hey, Simmons?” Grif's voice is so quiet, but he's not letting it shake or squeak.

“Hmm?” he stops, just half a step from Grif.

“I love you,”

There it was. It was out of his head, out of his mouth. He said it. It was done.

“Awww… thanks, Grif!” Simmons leans over, giving his friend a little side-hug with one arm. “I love you, too!”

That was nice of him… they usually just joked around, trading insults that were secretly compliments, because deep down they both liked spending time together… they just didn’t want to get so tenderhearted about it, that would be silly. Grif probably got a little shaken-up after listening to Church, and Simmons certainly felt emotionally drained… his friend must have been able to tell that he needed some comforting. The fact that Grif had just SAID it… Simmons really appreciated the effort (especially considering how much Grif hated effort). He said it back, not out of obligation, but because he meant it too! They were best friends, after all.

“AAAHHH! SIMMONS, HURRY!” Doc is suddenly screaming from the other room. “Sarge has his shotgun and he’s swearing at the DVD player!” they can also hear Lopez mutter something ( “Ni siquiera se como hacer que funcione…”).

“I’m coming, don’t worry!” Simmons rushes off, to the rescue… leaving Grif behind.

He stands there.

Not moving.

After a few seconds… Grif imagines he can almost hear what sounds like a cracking noise, breaking the silence.

It is either the sound of his heart breaking (that was so sappy it was DISGUSTING), or his mind snapping (if he actually had a brain, he NEVER would have done this).

[oh-for-fic-sake]

So I have a massive headache like for more then a week now. So could you write a drabble/headcannon of Henry giving her a head massage or something.

Summary: Henry helps his little through PMS/Headaches

Warnings: Adult Situations, 18+, Smut, DDLG, Shower Sex, Period Sex? (Clit stimulation)

A/N: Gonna mix two in one here ladies, headache and pms!

Tagging: @viking-raider @isitmine @tinabean37 @loserrlauraa  @msblkfire84 @henrythickcavill @plainbrunettelbl @dummiesshort @cynic-spirit @pandaxnienke  @two-unbeatable-beaters @libbymouse @wolfieash @eldarwen333 @princesssterek @mom2000aggie @blackestpinkworld  @kebabgirl67 @luclittlepond

Henry entered the bedroom frowning when he didn't see you there he'd thought you were having a lazy day today and come up from his workout.

His frown deepened when he realised not only were you not in bed but the bed was bare, the new sheets he'd put on yesterday were gone.

He padded into the bathroom following the sound of the shower wanting to check on you.

He froze by the door seeing the small unicorn pouch on the back of the toilet, the unicorn pouch used to house your reusable pads you'd switched to recently.

After finding having a scare with a tampon string getting loose and almost snapping you'd moved solely to pads.

But you ended up getting sore from the plastic sides of the pads as they rubbed your bikini line raw.

After spending your third period complaining he'd checked the day you'd finished and was appalled to find two red blister like marks either side of your princess parts.

He'd cooed at you sweetly putting some bepanthen on you and kept you bare for a few days to air you out and let the redness go/

Two days later he'd sat you down letting you pick out your own reusable pads each cute and durable, basically the same as your pampers he kept for when you were really little

He frowned looking in the bath and saw the sheets he crossed the room and pulled at the satin and sighed seeing the small stain.

Now that would explain why you were avoiding him.

"i-im sorry daddy!" you whimpered pitifully from inside the shower, resting your forehead on the cool tile sniffing.

"oh poppet don't be sorry it cant be helped, daddy will clean these up in a jiffy don't you worry" he said smiling to you.

He'd never be mad at you for this, it was an accident, sometimes you were caught unaware he wont scold you for it.

You whined at him nodding knowing he wont tell you off, but that didn't make it less embarrassing!

He waved off the sheets choosing to leave them i the bath, they wasn't hurting anyone there.

He looked past you to the shower controls and frowned. It was blue, the digital display reading 32.

"baby why is that so cold? You'll freeze!" henry asked a little too loud making your head throb

You'd come in here having a cool shower to sooth your aching head.

Your pms was bad this time, not only didn't you wake up with cramps and back ache, you were constipated too.

And then your head started hurting! It was bad all round!

"head sore daddy" you muttered twisting on the spot pressing your whole forehead to the tiles letting the cool water drum against your scalp in a strange uncomfortable but soothing mix.

"oh gosh poppet? Really?" henry asked only now realising how tuckered out you looked. He could see you were in pain. One hand holding your tummy the other rubbing the back of your hip.

"okay poppet, but daddy doesn't think a cold shower will do any good"

"i-it wont?"

"no poppet, can you turn it up for me nugget? I don't want you to get a cold" he asked just loud enough to be heard over the water.

You moved a hand out twisting the nob slowly letting the water heat up not wanting to burn yourself.

Whilst you were doing that henry was quickly ridding himself of his workout gear.

"good girl that's it 36 is much better~" he cooed at you before opening the glass door and slipping in with you.

"n-no daddy its dirty! I could-"

"hush you, there's nothing dirty about it, a little blood isn't going to hurt anyone now budge over" he scolded lightly pressing you further into the corner as he took up the space.

You sniffled shuffling back a few steps only being halted as he wrapped himself around you one huge hand kneading your back trying to help the ache.

"d-daddy I hurt" you said before tipping your head to his chest crying, feeling completely miserable!

"I know love, shh its ok turn around and daddy will help okay?" he said kissing your cheek lightly before spinning you the face away from him.

You hiccupped closing your eyes as you spun around in the spray of warm water.

Henry pulled the showerhead free and flicked it to the left making the spray powerful, he ran his hand under it testing the heat knowing it rose a little on this setting.

37, 38... 37 okay that's not too hot he grinned placing the showerhead back and angled it just right for what he had planned

"head back, let daddy wash your hair" he said slowly fingertips splayed over the sides of your head tilting it back.

"d-daddy?" you whined hands moving out to the wall before you trying to steady yourself.

"shh shh just close your eyes and relax poppet" he hummed

You did as you were told closing your eyes a few seconds later the scent of your shampoo filled the space, sweet summer fruits that smelt like the 'fruit salad' sweets you used to eat as a kid

You moaned his fingers were dragging through your hair pressing just right into your scalp massaging the tension

"ah there we go nugget~ see sometimes you just need daddies magic fingers~" he chuckled at his own little joke

"I love daddies magic fingers" you hummed purring pressing further back into him chaseing his hands as they mover lathering your hair

"oh I know poppet~" he scoffed before really pressing, covering your scalp with his huge hands and squeezing and rubbing making sure to knead out the tight knots on your head

"d-daddy~ please harder~" you whined trying to make him dig his fingers in to the pain, it hurt but was a good hurt.

"alright alright princess settle down" he cooed before pressing harder making his blunt fingers dig deep.

You winced but moaned turning your head left and right forcing your head back into his hands.

He pulled you slowly easing your hair under the spray rinsing still rubbing circles into your tense scalp.

"oh-oh? Daddy more it still hurts!" you whined frowning as you now only hand one hand rubbing the pain away.

He sighed but continued to rinse your hair much to your annoyance, the powerful spray was good, but not as good as his own hands.

He scoffed as your hand moved behind you grasping the hose connecting the showerhead to the unit and tugged trying to make him put the shower head back and keep massaging

"ah no, come on nearly done, then we get to condition in and daddy will rub your sore head again" he scolded lightly at you holding the showerhead tight.

You huffed but released the hose letting him finish up. Just to start the process all over again.

Slowly but surely he chased away the pain in your head and rinses the conditioner away.

Then he got to work on your other aches, namely your back.

He flicked sprayed your back letting you wriggle around funding the spot that hurt before holding the spray still and began kneading the dip of your back.

The shower lasted a good twenty minuets, him lathering you up and washing you massaging your aches and pains away leaving you with just your menstrual cramps.

He faltered looking down, he was of two minds whether to continue of not he read that it helped? He was you daddy, and honestly it didn't gross him out in the slightest

He finally decided to give it a go, besides you were in the shower everything would go down the drain.

He flicked the shower head to a lower setting once again testing the water temprature before directing it on your skin.

You were relaxed eyes closed half asleep when it happened, two fingers moved between your thighs pulling your petals open slightly, a third ghosting your bud

"D-Daddy?! No you- its dirty daddy no!" you squirmed worrying about bleeding on him.

"shh shh no its not stay still...See?" he cooed at you moving the water over your now exposed clit letting it stream across you in a steady pleasant motion.

"a-ah oh wha-daddy?" you mewled slowly rocking on the water unable to stop yourself.

"everything will be washed away, daddy read this could help your cramps" he hummed quietly into your neck drawing long strips along your slit letting the water wash over your core and his hand.

"b-but im bleeding!?" you whined still fretting over what he had planned despite panting and swaying your hips chaseing the fingers and the water.

"shh I know its okay just lean back- ah no, back poppet don't watch" he corrected using his arm to pull you against his chest.

He moved in precise movements pressing you to that all important high, curbing his own need that was growing thick behind you.

You were lost, maoning and gasping at the new sensation, the water beating on your clit in pulsing movments as his hand rubbed firmly over you.

Your legs widened and you moaned louder and louder crouching, squatting slightly trying to move closer to the sensations that held you on the edge.

"come on sweetly let go" he coaxed feeling the way you tried arching away still torn between your thoughts

"let go baby girl" he said again as you shook your head and tried jerking away, far to scared of making a mess

"it's dirty!" you sobbed as he didn't relent, forcing you faster to a high you craved and feared/

"well its a good thing were in the shower, cum... Daddy want you to cum! You can do it baby"

You whined as he still held you tightly, ushering you forward pinning your front to the tiles, hands still tucked between your legs

"let go little one, you want daddy to count you down?" he asked knowing your little praise kink would probably be the final push you needed

"no-noo I cant stop- please its- cumming!" you shook trembling trying to get free and avoid the water but he was a mountain of a man.

"5, come on you can do it" you moaned as he began counting you down, something he only did when you were holding back trying to fight your orgasm's, normally after being in a strop with him

"nooo! Stop-" you mewled hips gyrating wildly trying to run and hide and sail across the finish line all at once.

"4 cum for me princess, give in to me, let daddy see his good girl~" he coaxed sweetly into your ear nipping at it lightly.

"3 daddy can't wait for you to cum for him" he purred tucking his nose being your ear kissing your wet skin as you panted still trying to argue but your words failed each becoming a moan, desperate and needy.

"2 oh that's it soo close your so ready poppet, i know, oh i know my prefect girl that's it cum!" he praised moving his hand with renewed vigour as you tensed and arched widely, the sign of you finally hitting that peak.

You cried out rocking and trembling as you came, your vision turning black as your body tingled all over

"oh there we go! Good girl I'm so proud of you princess" he gushed littering your neck with kisses moving the shower spray away and rinsing his fingers that were tinted pink. Not that you needed to know that.

"oh see everything's okay, no accidents look" he said moving his clean hand up so you could see.

You groaned head lolling back unable the think let alone move.

He chuckled and hoisted you up, flicking the shower off

He got out of the shower whispering sweet words into your ear crossing the small bathroom

By this point you were putty in his hands grabbing the black towels you used whilst on your period.

"come on you, a nice cup of tea is just what the doctor ordered" he added unfolding your towel with one hand.

"d-daddy?" you said slowly yawning a little, rubbing your eyes cutely, ready to take a nap after being up early with back ache.

"yes poppet?" he asked eyeing you as he wrapped you in the towel

"my aches all gone" you hummed blinking at him shyly cheeks flushing pink

"Good love I'm pleased daddies fingers worked their magic, now lets get you dressed before you get cold" he hummed moving to the bed room grabbing one of your pads on the way out

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Unlikely Lovers Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Although all the chapters are my favourite, this is my FAVOURITE one, and I really shows off mine and @beccabarba​ cheeky sides! Once again thank you all for your comments and support of this series.

Warnings: Brat reader, orgasm denial, light spanking, slight dirty talk and smut.

WC: 3017

Enjoy x

Nick drove you both to work the next morning. When you got out of the car, he walked around grabbing your hand in his and held it till you both walked out of the lift and rounded into the bull pen. Liv was leaning on Fin’s desk and she pulled off her glasses giving you both a smile and a nod,

“Guess we all need to have a chat,” Liv walked over, patting your shoulder.

You both signed the paperwork, Liv being over the moon for you both but also completely honest, saying that Ed Tucker may give you a hard time, since Nick was not well loved by 1PP. You assured her you were prepared for anything he was going to throw at you both and you walked out of her office to start organising with everyone to go out for drinks after work to celebrate.

The day had worn on and you were all surprised nothing big had come in. You had all just walked into a bar after work, finding a table when Liv’s phone started to ring and the rest of your phones alerts sounded off around the table.

“We’ll have to celebrate another time,” Liv sighed hanging up her phone. “Rollins, Y/L/N, you two head to Bellevue for the victim, Amaro, Carisi you head back for questioning, unis are bringing the perp in now. Fin, you and I will get Barba up to speed.”

From that night on, it had been case after case, and trial after trial. You and Nick were like two passing ships even though your desks were across from each other’s and most nights you were falling asleep in the same bed. If you were at your desk, he was at Rafael’s office or court and vice versa. When you both got back to either his place or your apartment, you were both asleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow. It had been nearly three and a half weeks since there was any alone time or being home at a reasonable hour.  

You both walked through your apartment door before 7pm with the healthiest take away food you could find, both your eyes red and blood shot. You both ate and Nick went to shower while you cleaned up and put a load of washing in the washing machine, thinking to yourself that since you were even doing laundry together, you might as well make the move to living together sooner rather than later, finding you actually liked the idea. Nick came out of the shower in just a pair of boxers, giving you a quick kiss and grabbing a glass of water.

“I’ll meet you in bed,” Nick squeezed your side before heading into the bedroom.

Your face heated up, thinking about Nick’s bodyweight on top of you, pushing you into the mattress, and your panties dampened just thinking about it. It had been the longest you guys had been without any intimacy since you had been together. You rushed into the bathroom turning on the shower, waiting for the water to get to the right temperature. You jumped in when it was just right, reaching for your vanilla and rose bodywash, lathering it up all over your skin and then grabbing a razor quickly shaving your legs, under your arms and running it quickly over your pubic hairs to tidy things up.

You jumped out in record time, drying and grabbing your oversized sleep t shirt off the back of the door, not worrying about underwear, hoping to get straight to the point once you got to bed. You walked out of the bathroom, quickly turning off all the lights, and headed into the bedroom.

Your core clenched around nothing as you closed the door, looking over to the bed seeing Nick laying on his side with just a sheet over him, resting on his middle. You climbed into bed under the sheet, moving to come up behind him. Your front pressed into his back. You wrapped your arm around him, your hand running over his chiselled abs, running down to cup him through his boxers as you kissed along his shoulder, up to his ear.

Nick’s hand came down to grab your wrist, stopping your hand, pulling it up to his lips kissing the back of it,

“Not now baby,” Nick mumbled, half asleep. “Too tired… I love you.”

You pulled your hand away from him, rolling over, facing the other way, sighing in frustration.

**

You stretched your back, your arm dropping down to Nick’s side of the bed, hoping to find him there and pick back up where you stopped last night, hoping he would be awake enough to fuck you into the mattress like you needed him to. Your eyes flung open when you hand landed on an empty side of the bed and you sat up, looking out the bedroom door to a half-dressed Nick walking towards you with a coffee cup in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, a big smile pulling to your face,

“Morning baby,” Nick put the plate and mug on the bedside table, leaning over you kissing you quick.

You ran your hand down his chest and just before it got to the waist of his pants, he grabbed your hand stopping you and you looked up at him frowning,

“We don’t have time for that now, mi amor,” Nick cupped your cheek with his other hand rubbing his thumb over it, “Liv needs us to go past the 12th and pick up a file on the way in, she is waiting for us.”

You pulled away from him, looking up at him narrowing your eyes at him before you jumped up walking into the bathroom and sliming the door shut behind you.

You hadn’t spoken to Nick from the moment you walked out of the bathroom dressed and you waited in the car while he ran into the 12th to get the file that Liv needed. Nick opened the car door climbing back in passing you the file. You didn’t look at him, sitting the file on your lap and crossing your arms in front of yourself, looking straight ahead.

“Come on Y/N. You know I didn’t stop you because I wanted to,” Nick put the car in reverse, backing out of the space, driving a few feet and stopping at a red light. “I want you so bad,” Nick rested his hand on your thigh, looking over at you with puppy dog eyes and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Unless that hand is going to come up higher and slide down where it needs to, don’t touch me,” you snarled at him narrowing your eyes.

Nick pulled his hand away from you, pouting his lips and nodding,

“Keep talking like that and I’ll never touch you where you need to be touched again,” Nick muttered

“Excuse me?” you snapped back.

“You’re acting like a brat,” Nick shot back, driving off at a green light.

“I didn’t shut you down, twice.”

“I told you I didn’t want to, Y/N; we have been busy,” he sighed.

“If you wanted to, Nick, you would make time.”

The rest of day Nick couldn’t approach you, if you weren’t snapping him, you were throwing comments about how he didn’t want you. Mid-afternoon, you had walked into the break room to get a snack from the machine and you felt a hand wrap around your arm. You looked up and Nick was looking down at you, his face like stone but his eyes were soft, and you saw the sparkle in them,

“You’re acting like a naughty girl, Y/N, keep going and I’ll teach you a lesson,” he said softly, a slight half smile on his lips. His grip on your arm tightened, but not enough to hurt you, pulling you closer to him and you caught your breath, arousal flooding your body as his lips came to your ear, his body pressed to yours. “You won’t get what you want for another week, and if I find out you fixed the problem yourself and it will be longer. We both know you prefer my cock to your fingers, so don’t act tough baby.”

Nick let go of your arm, his hand coming down to slap your ass slightly before turning around and walking out the door. The rest of the day you were on edge, your face burning every time you looked over at Nick and he would raise an eyebrow, wiggling his eyebrows or winking at you, and you would look away blushing.  

You were finally both back in your apartment, Nick was spread out on your couch, shoes gone, tie gone, top button undone, sleeves rolled up and legs spread wide sipping on a beer. You just in your button down and underwear packing the dishwasher, after Nick had cooked for you both.  The tenson in the air was thick and you were waiting for the right time to make a move. You started the dishes and then walked over to the back of the couch leaning over the edge of it wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips on his cheeks,

“Would you like another beer?” you muttered into his skin.

“Nah, I’m good,” Nick ran his hand over your arm, “Come around here.”

You pulled away from Nick, walking around the couch. Nick sat up, sitting his beer bottle on the coffee table and sitting back again, his legs spread wide. You walked to stand between his legs and looked down at him. Nick reached over pulling you to him and grabbing your leg, guiding you to straddle his left thigh.

“You’ve been naughty today, haven’t you?” His voice was deep and he tilted his head, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and started to pepper his face with kisses, “I am sorry, babe. Make me feel better?” you purred.

A wicked grin pulled to his face, “Oh no baby, that is not how this works…”

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He looked into your eyes. “Brats get punished, mi amor.” His words sent heat through you, as you looked back at him. This was new.

“How?” you said softly, eyes wide. You knew he could read you like an open book and he would see not only your consent, but your arousal.

“You’ll find out,” he said, darkly. His hands went to your hips, pulling you down on his leg harder. You moaned with the pressure against his taut thigh muscle against your core. “For now, why don’t you get some relief for that needy pussy… Show me what you need…” He moved his hands on your hips, urging you to rub yourself against him. It wasn’t the relief you wanted, but it was better than nothing.

As you rutted against his thigh, frustrated by the lack of anything more, and the layers of clothing between your body and his skin, but needing the pressure nevertheless, Nick was watching with a little smirk on his face. He casually reached up and started to unfasten the buttons of your shirt, exposing more and more of your skin to him, letting his eyes drop obviously to your chest as you continued to undulate your body, moving faster without the pressure of his hands on your hips. He pulled the shirt off your body, throwing it aside, and reached up to unfasten your bra. But when you thought his next move would be to put his hands on your tits, he just returned them to your hips.

You could feel the pressure building, your orgasm approaching. It had been so long that, whatever else the night held, you needed this. You pressed down against him harder, tilting your head back, closing your eyes and moaning. “Nick, I’m going to come…” you whined.

Suddenly his hands tightened on your hips, stilling your movements. You opened your eyes wide and looked at him, moaning with the restriction of your movements. “Wouldn’t be any kind of punishment if I let you come, would it?” he said simply, before unceremoniously pushing you off his leg. You found your feet and looked at him in surprise, even as arousal surged through you. Nick kept his eyes on yours, his face set stern, as he stood up. You tilted your head back to keep looking at him as he reached his full height, standing close to you. “Bedroom,” he said. You turned and felt his hand on the back of your neck, pushing him forwards.

“You know I want you to fuck me, don’t you, Nick? So it’s not exactly punishment, bringing me to bed with you?” You spoke as you walked, knowing you were goading him, but secure in your trust of him.

“Still with the attitude? Who says I’m gonna fuck you?” he demanded, as you reached the bedroom. He gave you a little shove onto the bed. You crawled onto it, on your hands and knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him, fingers sliding under the waist of your underwear, pulling it down. You helped him slide your panties off your legs, feeling the exposure of being completely naked while he was still fully dressed.

Nick put a strong hand on the back of your neck, pushing your head down, until your face was on the bed, but your ass still in the air. His other hand slid over the curves of your hips, down over your buttocks, and slid between them to find your folds, touching you gently, too gently. You squirmed and tried to push back against him. He pulled his hand away.

“Oh no you don’t, my naughty girl,” he said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. “You’re so wet and needy.” You heard a wet sound. “And you taste so good. Want to tell me what it is you need?”

“You know what I want,” you replied, breathlessly.

“Do I? Hmm?” His fingers traced a soft pattern over your skin, but he didn’t touch you where you needed it.

“What, you want me to beg?”

“You can try. I don’t know if it’ll work or not.”

“I need you to fuck me, Nick, please…” you tried. He chuckled.

“That was easy.” His fingers teased through your folds again and you caught your breath and moaned when he circled your clit.

“Yes…yes…Nick…” you managed. He pulled his hand away again and you groaned loudly.

“Oh, please, I’ll be good,” you told him.

“Now you say that,” he said, sounding like he was enjoying himself. “But you need to learn how to be patient.” With that, he delivered a very light slap to your ass cheek. Pleasure swept through you and you moaned against the bed. He noticed the effect on you. “Mmm, like that do you, baby?”

“Yes, I do,” you admitted, weakly.

The hand on the back of your neck gripped just a little harder, as he brought his hand down again, just a little harder, tinged with the slightest edge of pain. “Is this what you deserve? Naughty girls get spanked?” He did it again. Hard enough that you caught your breath.

“Oh fuck yes,” was all you could manage. “Harder…” you added, in case he needed the reassurance.

“You asked for it, mi amor.” His hand fell again, as he spanked you several more times, with the confidence of knowing you liked it, each one stinging your skin into warmth. Then his hand slid between your thighs again, teasing your swollen clit. “Oh you’re so wet,” he groaned. You felt your orgasm starting to build again, his insistent fingers bringing you closer.

“All for you…” you told him.

“I know,” he replied. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, oh god yes please…” You begged. His hands left you, and you heard him removing his clothes, returning moments later. One hand slid up your back to curl around your throat, pulling up and back against him, as his other guided his cock to your wet entrance. His mouth was by your ear as the tip slid into you.

“I’m going to fuck you, baby,” he said, his voice gruff. He thrust up into you, filling you, then stopped, as your body stretched around him and you breathed hard with the feeling of finally having him where you needed him. “But you should know that you don’t have my permission to come.”

“Oh god, Nick,” you moaned. Despite yourself, you were even more turned on than if he’d just let your orgasm burst through you. “I want you to use me…”

“All for my pleasure, querida. I know, I got you,” he said. His fingers were still lightly gripping your throat as he started to thrust up into you, his other arm wrapping around you, holding you to him, his hand groping at your breasts. His thrusts came hard and fast, as he chased his own release rather than waiting for you. The sound of his skin meeting yours filled the room, his breathing loud close to your ear, his fingers tugging your nipples and sending waves of arousal through you. His cock was hitting the sweet spots inside you, but he kept your hands away from you clit, your orgasm just beyond your reach as his cock stretched you open over and over again.

You tilted your head back against him, moaning and breathing hard. “I’m going to come, my naughty little brat, I’m going to fill you up,” he whispered in your ear. And then he muttered filthier words, in Spanish you’d started to recognise, moaning your name as his cock twitched inside you and his hot seed spilled deep in your body.

He released you, panting hard, and you collapsed onto the bed, satisfied with the knowledge you’d pleased him, so aroused by the way he’d fucked you, but still needing more. You rolled over onto your back and slid your hand down between your thighs, finding your clit.

“Stop that,” Nick said, heading towards you. He put his hands on the insides of your thighs, pushing them apart, grabbing your wrist.

“No, please…I need it,” you panted.

“I know, baby.” He gave you a wicked smile. “But I’m going to do it with my mouth. And don’t think I’ll stop at one.” He dipped his head and you moaned as his tongue swept over your clit, knowing you would get more than the end of your frustration by the time he was done.

  Tags:  @wanniiieeee @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @randofando-spoonie  @alwaysachorusgirl  @amorestevens  @harryssxnflwr @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @skittle479 @bisexual-dreamer02 @glimmerglittergirl @witches-unruly-heart @berniesilvas @ben-c-group-therapy

[bibliophilea]

The End - Ch. 1

Happy Holiday Truce, @mystyrust! Sorry to make you wait - I wanted to do something big, but I forgot to take into account two things: I am a slow writer, and this story became too big to handle as a oneshot. I do have big ideas for where I want this story to go, but we'll see how the story builds itself as I write! Happy Holidays!

If elements of this story seem familiar, that’s because they are! This is based on @lexosaurus‘s tags on @dannys-phucking-dead‘s post! I hope you enjoy!

ffn | ao3

>1< 2 3 4 ...

"Listen. I've met a lot of great asteroids. Really fantastic asteroids. And they've all told me themselves — they said that I was a great president. All of them said that — all one hundred thousand asteroids. I was there."

The camera switches to Tiffany Snow, sitting at the anchor desk.

"This is what President Drumpf had to say yesterday regarding NASA's claims that an unforeseen asteroid is approximately 21 days from hitting the Earth, creating an extinction-level event on par with what took out the dinosaurs," Snow states with a cheerful smile. "Polls suggest that approximately 48.2% of the population believe NASA's claims to be a hoax; 29.5% believe it's the end of the world; and 22.3% is undecided. Lance, can you tell us a bit about Amity Park's response to NASA's claims?"

The camera switches to a street view outside of Amity Park's capitol building. People crowd the streets, many of them yelling and holding signs. Some signs read "THE END IS NIGH". Others say "ASTEROID SHMASTEROID". A few say "DEFUND NASA". One sign says "[citation needed]".

"Certainly, Tiffany," Lance Thunder replies, nearly shouting over the crowd. "As you can see here, tensions are high in Amity Park. Citizens gather to make their voices heard amidst NASA's claims of doom and gloom. Hey, Bob, what do you think of NASA's statement?"

Thunder turns to a middle aged man beside him wearing a bright red cap. The man bends to put his face by the microphone Thunder is brandishing.

"It's fake news, is what it is! I mean, come on! How does a freaking asteroid come out of nowhere? It's a China conspiracy, I tell you!"

Bob nods, and Thunder takes back the microphone. "Well, you heard it here, folks. Amity Park's citizens think NASA's claims are a ho—"

"THE END IS NIGH!"

A woman wearing a sign with the same message butts in, snatching the microphone from Thunder.

"The Disasteroid cometh for us all! Soon it will be Judgement Day and all of you Non Believers will be found Wanting!"

Thunder squawks. "Hey! That is APN property! Give that back!"

The camera turns to focus on Thunder and the woman as they fight over the microphone, their squabbling barely audible over the feedback. Then the feed cuts back to Tiffany Snow.

"Wow Lance, looks like no one can break Amity Park's spirit," Snow says with a grin. "In other news, Congress has voted to defund NASA—"

The TV clicks off.

Danny carefully puts down the remote before he allows himself to shake. His fists clench, and he hides them under folded arms, lest they be seen bursting into ectoplasmic flame. His face feels taut, teeth clenched, eyes abnormally dry. Toxic green edges his vision, and he clamps his eyes shut, lest they be seen glowing green with his anger.

And oh, he is angry.

NASA is a world leader in space aviation and exploration, and Congress is defunding them. And for what? Because they told the truth? Because there's a humongous asteroid about to hit the Earth? They should be funneling emergency money towards NASA, not taking money away! The world needs NASA, now more than ever! Danny has seen the images NASA shared — the images the media doesn't dare share, lest the wrath of one President Drumpf befall them. He doesn't know how everyone missed it — it's huge and it's glowing green and no stars glow green like that — but now that everyone knows about it, there should be some sort of plan to stop it, right? Wrong! The president says it's fake news, and Congress follows suit, and the biggest space programs in the world can't agree on what to do about it when half the world doesn't even think it's real and oh god we're gonna die like actually 100% die and it's not ghosts it's not Pariah Dark it's a big fucking SPACE ROCK that's going to do us in for good and there'll be no more habitable Earth and no more Ghost Zone and we're all going to DIE—

A hand touches Danny's knee, and he gasps, eyes flying open, cringing away from the contact.

Through the green haze in his vision he sees bright orange and immediately shuts his eyes again. They can't see, can't see him freak out, can't see his powers freak out with him—

The hand touches his knee again, and he freezes at the touch, body tense, teeth clenched, eyes shut tight. Another hand touches his arm and he takes in a breath, shuddering as the hand slowly moves to his shoulder, and then to his back, rubbing large, soothing circles. Danny tries to time his breathing to the circles, like Jazz had taught him to, and slowly the blood rushing in his ears (when had that happened?) quiets to a dull roar.

"There we go Danny, see, just breathe. You're okay. You're at home, and Mom and Dad are out, and you don't have to hide."

Danny uncurls slightly at the sound of his sister's voice. He opens his eyes a crack — just enough to see past the green haze — and really looks this time. The orange isn't the same shade as his dad's jumpsuit — it's a lighter, more natural color, and it surrounds a face with concerned, green eyes. Jazz. Jazz is here, and she has her hand on his knee, and she's rubbing circles into his back, and he's kind of sort of getting the hang of breathing with the rhythm of those circles. He leans into her, and she bundles him into a hug, still rubbing circles into his back.

The front door opens, and Danny and Jazz both freeze. Jazz said Mom and Dad are out, but what if they're back? They can't see him like this, they'll find out!

Danny has half a mind to just turn invisible when their voices hit his ears.

"Man, dude, did you see what Congress did to NASA? That's so unfair!"

"It's totally unfair! They're just telling the truth! This whole administration is the absolute worst!"

Tucker. Sam. Danny relaxes slightly at their voices, but he doesn't turn around — doesn't want them to see him like this, either.

But it's too late.

"Woah, dude, you okay?"

"Danny!"

He hears them rush over to him — feels their worry and the warmth of their bodies as they get close — and tenses up again. He should be better than this, stronger than this! He shouldn't be freaking out about some dumb news report.

Not just a dumb news report, his brain helpfully supplies. We're all going to die. And there's nothing you can do about it.

All of a sudden, Jazz's embrace feels too tight. To constraining. Trapping him where he is.

He slips intangible and flees from Jazz, flees from his friends — flees upwards, up through the ceiling and through the roof and through the Ops Center, flees until there's no more house to flee from. He lands hard on the roof of the Ops Center, scraping his knees but it doesn't matter, hands scorching the metal but who cares, it's just the end of the world—

He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his head in them, his face screwing as he tries to get a hold of himself, tries to rein himself in, it's just the end of the world, just the end of Mom and Dad and Jazz and Sam and Tucker and school and movies and parks and people and everything and everyone he'd ever tried to protect—

"Bite this."

Danny feels something cool touch his lips, and he bites down — then coughs and spits as bitter rind and sour citrus burst in his mouth.

He looks up to see Tucker triumphantly brandishing a whole lemon with a chunk bitten out of it. Sam and Jazz stand to either side of him, varying levels of worry and amusement fighting for dominance in their faces. Danny spits again, and stares at the bits of rind and lemon pulp that vacate his mouth.

"What the hell?"

"Told you it'd work!" Tucker crows.

"A lemon?" Danny splutters.

"It's an... unorthodox grounding technique," Jazz responds, "and it normally isn't administered like that—"

"Point is, it works," Sam interjects. "How're you feeling?"

Danny stares at the three of them for a moment. Then he sighs and chuckles darkly. "The worlds going to end because too many people don't believe NASA about an asteroid hurtling towards Earth, and Tucker made me bite into a lemon. How am I supposed to feel?"

He sighs again, long, hard, and shuddering, and he lets himself fall backwards onto the warm metal of the Ops Center roof. Jazz lies down across from him, and Sam and Tucker lie to either side of him, all their heads nearly touching. The sky above them is bright blue, clear of clouds. Birds flit across Danny's vision, twittering as they chase each other before flying off to who knows where. Does it even matter? They'll all be dead in a few weeks.

"I don't want to die again."

The words slip from his mouth, and he feels his breath hitch, watches as his vision goes blurry. His hands begin to clench into fists — but then Sam and Tucker take his hands, massaging the tension from his fingers and palms, and Jazz runs her hand through his hair like she used to do when they were kids and he'd had a nightmare, and something in him breaks.

A sob wrenches itself from his throat, and he curls in on himself. His sister and friends move to hold him close, and he can't help but lean into their touch. They hold him as his eyes glow green, as his hands fist into the metal of the roof, as his sobs take on a ghostly tinge, nearly wailing his grief and his anger and his fear into the sky. He shudders as he cries, and feels as they shudder with him — feels as Sam and Tucker push their faces into his shirt, and as Jazz buries her face in his hair — feels as his shirt and his head where their faces lie become damp.

Crying. They're crying.

And it's his fault.

A wave of guilt washes over him, and he wants to pull away again, wants to force himself to stop crying, to be strong for them. But their grips on him tighten, and they speak to him, words warped by their own tears. "Just let it out," Tucker mutters into his back. "It's okay to cry," Sam whispers into his shoulder. "You don't have to hide," Jazz repeats into his hair.

But beneath their words, beneath their tight hold on him and the way they push their faces against him is a hidden plea: "Stay," they say.

Please stay.

So Danny stays.

Danny stays, and they cry together, and the sun shines down upon them from the clear blue sky.

*~*~*

Danny doesn't know how long it's been. Only that he's no longer crying, and that his friends and sister are no longer crying. They've melted into a cuddle pile of four, with Danny at the center, and the sun beats down on them from a different angle than before. Danny has wound up with his head in Jazz's lap, and she's playing with his hair. Sam and Tucker are on top of him, still holding his hands. Their weight is comforting.

Danny is exhausted. He just wants to fall asleep and deal with everything later. Crying in front of your friends and sister will do that, his brain helpfully supplies. So will the end of the world.

He sighs heavily and moves to sit up. Sam and Tucker get off him, still holding his hands, and Jazz helps him up, moving from playing with his hair to rubbing circles on his back. He smiles faintly at all of them.

"Thanks, guys," he whispers hoarsely. He really does have the best friends and best sister in the world.

Too bad they're all going to die in three weeks.

He frowns and sighs again, too tired to cry.

"It's heavy stuff, huh," Jazz says gently. Danny looks back at her, an eyebrow raised. She continues. "The thought of everything ending like that — it's really hard to think about. Hell, I'm having trouble processing it." She smiles gently at him. "It's okay to be scared and angry, and it's okay to be scared and angry in front of us. You don't have to hide."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Danny mutters. "No more running away."

"Good," Sam remarks. "Now, what are we going to do about everything?"

"What do you mean?" Danny asks.

"You know. The asteroid?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. That." Danny frowns down at the roof of the Ops Center. The metal is warped and singed where his hands had dug into it. "What are we supposed to do about that?" He looks back up at Sam. Her eyes bear into his, and her grip on his hand tightens.

"Look, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me, too. But we can't just sit here and do nothing."

Danny frowns at her. He opens his mouth to respond, but Tucker gets there first.

"Look, I know we need to have this conversation, I really do. But can we have it inside? The metal's starting to get really hot." Tucker stands up, rubbing his free hand on his jeans from touching the roof.

Danny sighs and stands up, stretching the kinks from his back. Sam and Jazz stand up with him.

"On it," Danny says. "Everyone hold tight."

He feels Sam's and Tucker's grips tighten on his hands, and he feels Jazz grab his shoulder. With a poke at his core, he tugs them all intangible, slipping through the roof to the refreshingly cool interior of the Ops Center. He lets go of intangibility and lets gravity embrace them slowly, gently depositing them all on the floor of the Ops Center. Then he lets go of his friends' hands and steps forwards, turning so he's facing the three of them.

"So, what are we supposed to do, huh? Half the world thinks the asteroid's a hoax, and the other half either doesn't have the money to do anything, or is stuck in petty arguments about what to do and who's to blame and all that shit." Danny crosses his arms and frowns.

"Dude, you're the Ghost King," Tucker's quick to reply. "Doesn't that mean you can, like, do anything?"

Danny facepalms. "Oh my god, Tucker, I'm not the Ghost King. I told the Observants I don't want any part of it. And besides, even if I were, who's going to listen to me? Klemper? The Box Ghost? I'm sure they can convince the world to get its shit together!"

"Hey!" Sam interjects. "You can't just focus on what we can't do. We need to focus on what we can do, as a team."

"Oh, and what can we do, Sam? We're way out of our depth here! The four of us can't stop the asteroid from hitting Earth!"

"You're right, Danny," Jazz says. Sam and Tucker gape at her.

"But dude—"

"You can't just—"

"Hey, let me speak!" Jazz waits until Sam and Tucker close their mouths — Tucker with a perplexed look on his face, Sam with an expectant frown.

"We are out of our depth," Jazz states. "We don't have the resources or political pull here on Earth or in the Ghost Zone to make a significant difference." She pauses. "But we know someone who does."

It takes a moment, but Sam gets it first.

"Oh, ew, we are not asking him for help!"

"Wait." Tucker says. "Asking who for—" horror dawns on his face. "Oh, no. No no no. We can't! Why would you even think of that?"

"Think of what?" Danny asks, a little annoyed that he doesn't get it.

"Asking Vlad," Sam, Tucker, and Jazz reply.

"Oh, ew!" Danny says automatically.

Jazz rolls her eyes. "It's not like I want to talk to him either! I just think given the circumstances, we don't have much choice."

"There's always a choice, Jazz," Sam retorts. "He'll probably try and force Danny to stay with him in exchange for his help."

"Yeah, Jazz," Tucker adds. "He's a slimeball. Who knows how he'll try to play this to his advantage."

"But—"

"I think Jazz is right," Danny says.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz stare at Danny, flabbergasted. Danny blushes.

"Well, it's like Jazz said — I don't want to, but I don't think we have a choice. We need his help. And besides," he says with a smirk, "the man is way too narcissistic. He doesn't want to die because half the world doesn't believe what's right in front of their faces."

"And we can use that to our advantage," Jazz adds. "He knows he'll need help with whatever scheme he's plotting, and there isn't enough time for him to be picky."

"So, what? We go to him for help, and threaten to walk if he tries to pull anything?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly." Jazz and Danny grin at each other.

Tucker sighs and pulls out his PDA. "Alright, fine. One meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop coming right up."

Danny stares. "Dude, what are you doing?"

Tucker looks up. "Um, scheduling a meeting with our evil mayor?"

Sam shakes her head. "He's probably booked. We'll have better luck if we just show up."

Jazz nods. "He's probably expecting us anyways."

Tucker sighs and puts away his PDA. "Alright, fine. But can we take a moment to clean up? I don't know about you guys, but my face is crusty."

Danny looks at his friends and sister. Their hair is a mess, and their eyes are still rimmed red. Sam's mascara has dried after running down her face, and Tucker's glasses and Jazz's headband are askew. Danny figures he doesn't look much better.

He nods. "Alright. But after that, we have a meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop!"

[darks-ink]

Ephemeral

Prompt: Tucker Ghouly thought this was going to be a good, peaceful day. That thought is crushed when not one, not two, but three portals open, depositing the halfa versions of his two best friends (and his best friend’s sister?) into this world. Why are they here? And how are they going to return to their home worlds? Prompt by: @bibliophilea Word count: 4,175

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

“This patrol has been very calm,” Tucker muttered, raising himself higher in the air like that would reveal some sort of hidden ambush. “Suspiciously calm.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Danny grumbled, rolling his eyes. One of his hands wandered to the ecto-gun hidden under his black jacket.

Something in Tucker’s chest seized—his core, he knew instantly—and he jerked to a halt. So did both of his friends, coming to a stand-still a step behind him. A green spark flickered in front of them.

“Too late,” Sam grunted, pulling her own small ecto-gun out of its holster. “This one is on you, Tuck.”

“When isn’t it?” he bit back, but lit up his fists with roiling violet ectoplasm anyway. Whatever this was, whether it would be hostile or not, he was ready.

The spark spluttered, and for a moment it seemed to extinguish entirely. Then, with a terrible ripping sound—a sound which seemed to echo in Tucker’s very core—the green extended, like a tear through reality.

A portal into the Ghost Zone.

The surface of the portal wavered, then parted way as a single humanoid ghost stumbled through. Literally stumbled through, feet on the ground, almost tripping on the edge of the portal as it immediately closed behind the ghost.

And then the noise came again, and then a third time, as two more portals opened up, just to the side of where the first had been. And, again, the portals both released a single humanoid ghost before immediately closing again.

“What the hell,” Danny muttered behind him, and Tucker could only heartily agree. At least he didn’t seem to be the only one confused by the going-ons, as the first ghost to stumble through was also watching the newcomers.

Or he had been, because the ghost’s gaze had snapped towards Tucker—and more importantly, Danny—when his friend had spoken.

Bright green eyes blinked at the two of them, and Tucker was struck with a sense of familiarity. It took him an embarrassingly long moment to see through the glowing eyes, the innate difference in appearance caused by the mild glow of a ghost, before he could place the face.

The ghost was an exact copy of Danny. Or, more accurately, of a hypothetical ghost version of Danny, since his hair was as white as Tucker’s was in his ghost form, and his usual blue eyes replaced with green.

He ripped his eyes away from Danny’s ghostly doppelganger to look at the other two ghosts, and felt his stomach flip. One of them was undeniably Sam’s copy, with white hair and vivid cyan eyes. The other took him a moment longer to place, before he realized she looked like a younger version of Danny’s sister Jazz.

“Huh,” Sam mumbled, stepping up to Tucker’s other shoulder. All three ghosts’ eyes followed the movement. “This is… odd.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” the ghostly version of Danny said. Despite the echo, his voice was undeniably Danny’s. “So, uh. I guess none of you were responsible for the creation of that portal?” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the other two ghosts. “Or, those portals, since there were multiple?”

“Definitely not,” Tucker confirmed, and let the ectoplasm gathering in his fists sizzle out. None of the ghosts seemed hostile, and he didn’t really feel much for fighting his friends’ duplicates.

“I didn’t do it either,” the young Jazz said, her golden eyes narrowed and her purple hair flickering violently in a manner that reminded Tucker uncomfortably of Ember.

“Me neither,” Sam’s doppelganger piped up, crossing her arms. “So, Danny, you up to something?”

Ghostly Danny flinched and pulled a face that Tucker immediately placed as guilty. “Uhhh…”

“Why is my ghost version a disaster?” Danny loudly complained, leaning against Tucker’s shoulder now that he had—without noticing it himself—come low enough to the ground for Danny to reach.

“Just be glad that he’s wearing black,” Sam put in, leaning around Tucker’s other side to watch her own ghostly copy. “Since apparently everyone else has been forced into brightly colored jumpsuits.”

“Stop dodging the point,” the younger Jazz snapped, before whirling around to her ghostly brother. “What did you do, big brother?”

“Big brother?” both Danny’s echoed, eyeing her. When she growled, the ghostly Danny raised his hands placatingly and added on, “I didn’t— Okay, I might’ve, but I didn’t mean to!”

“Illuminating,” Sam’s ghostly double muttered, shaking her head. “Please stop dodging around the point, Danny.”

Luminescent green eyes rolled as Danny’s copy lowered his hands again. “Okay, so I might have been trying to open a portal to the Ghost Zone. I was just trying to reach a friend!”

“And you somehow missed catastrophically,” Sam concluded, now also leaning on Tucker. He was starting to feel slightly used. “You know what? That checks out.”

“Wow,” Danny muttered, pressing a hand against his chest. “I’m hurt, Sam. Right in my poor black heart.”

“Okay, that’s enough out of you three!” Jazz snarled, her glow flickering brighter for a moment before it settled again. “That explains how Danny got here, but what about us?” She gestured at herself and Sam’s ghostly version. “Why are Sam and I here?”

“The connection between Danny’s world and this one must’ve destabilized something.” Sam’s ghost frowned, brows drawing together in thought. “Or maybe something about how he reached for a friend drew us in too?”

All five of them looked at the ghostly Danny, whose shoulders slowly but steadily climbed up to his ears.

“Sorry?” he said, sounding uncertain. “Uh. Whoops?”

Danny snorted, then shook his head. “Maybe we should move somewhere a little more private while we figure this out, since it doesn’t seem like you folks are intent on causing trouble.”

“We can go to my place, since we actually have a shot at privacy there,” Sam offered, stepping away from Tucker. “The three of us will need to go through the front door. Can I assume you three can find the way to the greenhouse yourselves?”

Sam’s ghostly double raised an eyebrow, then grinned. “Yeah, I think I can manage that. We’ll be right there.”

“Just know that if you don’t show up, we will hunt you down,” Danny threatened, holding a single finger in their direction. “You’re not safe just because you look like us.”

“Yeah, yeah, we hear you loud and clear,” Danny’s double replied, waving him off almost casually. “Get going.”

They went.

---

By the time Tucker, Sam, and Danny made it to Sam’s greenhouse, the three ghosts had already arrived. True to expectations, Sam’s double was checking out the plants. The other two, ghostly Danny and Jazz, seemed to be frowning at each other.

Tucker cleared his throat the moment he stepped inside, ignoring the way his core pulled in his chest. He had very little experience dealing with ghosts while human, and felt distinctly disarmed. If they attacked, he would need precious moments to transform.

But that was if they attacked, which he highly doubted.

“Oh,” ghost Danny said, with a tone of heavy understanding. “We’re all half-ghosts, then. That makes sense.”

“Does it?” Tucker muttered, only halfheartedly venomous. “No, I guess it does. Can we start with introductions?”

Jazz nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “There is too much overlap in the names, I think. Should all half-ghosts go by our ghost names, then? Since I assume we all have one?”

The half-ghost version (apparently?) of Sam turned away from the plant she’d been looking at. “I’m Manes, then. And can I just say that this is a damn impressive greenhouse.”

“Thanks,” the actual Sam answered with a snort and a pleased smile. “It’s a good place to hide away from my parents.”

Half-ghost Danny shook his head, the expression on his face somewhere between hurt and cheered. His Sam must be the same about plants, then. “I’m Phantom.”

“Specter,” half-ghost Jazz chipped in, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Tucker kind of got it. Somehow, they all went with a similar theme on names, yet lacked overlap entirely. “I went with Ghouley, but considering that I’m the only Tucker around, you can just call me Tucker.”

“Where is your sense of camaraderie, Tuck?” Phantom asked, grinning impishly. “We’re all in this together, aren’t we?”

“So it seems,” he allowed with a grumble, rolling his eyes. “Am I supposed to shift to my ghost form as well, or are you all gonna shift back to human, or…?”

The other three exchanged brief glances before Manes shrugged, a ring of white light forming around her waist. The light swept away cyan eyes and a green suit, leaving her in a rather generic shirt and skirt combo, the same green and purple he knew from his own Sam, and her usual purple eyes blinking back at him.

Phantom huffed but followed her, letting his own transformation wash away the black jumpsuit and green eyes, replacing them with a white and red shirt and ordinary jeans, sky blue eyes like the Danny right behind Tucker.

With the other two transformed, Specter rolled her eyes but also shifted, her golden eyes turning teal and her purple ponytail coming down to cascade red hair over her shoulders—just like the Jazz Tucker knew, if a little younger.

“So they are all half-ghosts,” Danny jibed, gesturing at the three… the three alternate versions of his friends. And Jazz. “That’s good to know.”

“This was a test?” Phantom asked, raising his own eyebrow and looking eerily like Danny. Tucker was kind of starting to wish he had just shifted back to his ghost form for this. “I guess that that’s fair. I don’t think I would’ve trusted it either, if I was in your shoes.”

“Okay, not this isn’t nice and all,” Specter interrupted, sounded not at all sorry for doing so, “but can we please focus on the whole”—she gestured around them—“this thing?”

“She has a point,” Sam allowed, stepping further into the greenhouse. “We’re still working on the assumption that Phantom somehow did this?”

The boy in question made a face but didn’t deny it. “I was just trying to open a portal. I don’t know how it went this wrong!”

“Was this your first time opening a portal?” Manes asked, leaning forward with an expression of curiosity on her face. “If so, what made you so certain you could do it?”

“I’ve seen a future version of myself do it,” Phantom explained with a dismissively casual shrug. “I managed at least one of the other powers I saw him do, so I figured portal making wasn’t out of the question either.”

Tucker felt himself frown at that. He’d seen a future version of himself? Sure, the three of them had run into all sorts of weird ghost stuff, but that? That wasn’t something he was familiar with.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one, because Manes also frowned. Specter, it seemed, did recognize the events, if vaguely, because she nodded understandingly.

“I’ve seen something similar,” she allowed. “But I never successfully opened a portal, either, despite what I’ve seen her do.”

“Weird.” Phantom shook his head, like he was clearing his thoughts. “I don’t know why Specter and I saw a future and you two didn’t, and I don’t know what went wrong with my attempt, either. I figured that if I messed it up it just wouldn’t work, not”—he gestured vaguely, much like Specter had before—“not this.”

“Must’ve been some weird Fenton thing,” Manes commented, her frown wiped away in favor of a grin. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that sets you apart from Specter, if she just couldn’t do it and you tore open the fabric of reality to tap into alternate dimensions.”

Phantom flapped his hands aggravatedly, and despite the oddness of the situation, Tucker was secretly kind of glad of how easy it was to read him and Manes. Specter was more troublesome—he didn’t spend a lot of time around Jazz—but his friends? Piece of cake.

“I don’t know, okay?” Phantom snapped, his eyes briefly flickering green. Really aggravated, then. Good to know. “I don’t know how I screwed up this badly! I didn’t even know it was possible for ghosts to open portals to different realities!”

“And you can’t think of anything that might work?” Specter pressed, crossing her arms and frowning at him. “No ghost artifacts or anything?”

That ground Phantom to a halt. “Uh. Hm…” His brow creased as he thought, muttering to himself under his breath, until… “The Reality Gauntlet could’ve done it, maybe?”

“The what?” Tucker blurted out automatically. That sounded like some kind of superhero comic device, not an actual ghost artifact.

“The Reality Gauntlet?” Phantom repeated, like that alone could explain everything. “Big metal glove, fits four gems? Can alter the fabric of reality?”

Tucker shook his head in negative, and was oddly relieved to see not only Manes but also Specter answer in negative.

“No one else has dealt with it?” Phantom asked, incredulous.

“That must’ve been it, then,” Danny concluded, humming to himself. “The Gauntlet must’ve done it.”

“But that’s impossible,” Phantom countered, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. “I destroyed it months ago.”

“And, assuming the timelines are roughly equal, your core would’ve been young enough to absorb the energy released from a broken ghost artifact,” Sam bit back. “What were you thinking, Phantom?”

“That it was too dangerous to leave hanging around!” Phantom’s eyes glowed green once more, but it was quickly repressed, and he continued in a quieter, more morose tone. “Freakshow already used it against my friends and family once. I couldn’t leave it hanging around for him—or someone else—to try again.”

That… checked out. Tucker might’ve done the same, if he had been in Phantom’s shoes. Danny definitely would’ve. “Okay, so now what?”

“We ask Clockwork?” Phantom suggested with a loose shrug. “He’s usually helpful for this sort of thing.”

Clockwork? That was a ghost name if Tucker had ever heard one, but not one he was familiar with. From Manes’ expression, neither was she.

He wasn’t sure whether it was comforting or not, that his universe and Manes’ were so similar when the Fentons’ universes were so different. It was like they were somehow significantly different from the Fentons. Was it because Sam and he weren’t the kids of ghost hunters? Somehow?

“Clockwork is the ghost of time, though.” Specter huffed, rolling her eyes at Phantom. “Besides, we’re in a different universe entirely, and it looks like Ghouley doesn’t know him. Clockwork probably won’t know any of us, never mind care enough to help.”

“Why can’t we just go and grab the Reality Gauntlet?” Manes asked. “If that’s the thing powerful enough to break through the fabric of reality, surely we can just use the one in this universe to make portals back?”

Phantom made a face at that. “I’m not sure where it is. I think Freakshow might’ve stolen in from the Guys in White, but I’m not 100% sure on that.”

Eugh. Yeah, that explained the face. “So that’s out too,” Tucker concluded, trying not to feel too down about it. At least he wasn’t stuck in a different reality altogether. But if there was no way to return the three other half-ghosts home… That was bound to become messy.

“Why can’t Phantom just try again?” Sam asked, a tone of genuine curiosity in her voice. “If we’re all pretty sure he’s the one responsible for the portals in the first place, maybe he can open up portals back, too.”

“Using a power he can’t control?” Manes returned, but she cocked her head in thought. “But I guess that it’s worth a shot.”

“We could try doing it together?” Specter suggested, placing a hand on Phantom’s shoulder. “We’re all half-ghosts, and we’re all here for some reason, right? If Phantom’s power brought us here, maybe we can combine all our powers to make the portals back?”

Danny huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think that that’s how ghost powers work, is it?”

The look he got from Specter could only be described as imperial. “Friendship—love—is all we have on our side, it seems. It brought us here, it can damn well bring us back, too.”

“That’s fair,” Danny allowed with a snort.

“I guess we’d better wait until it’s dark.” Tucker pulled out his phone, grimacing at the time. “Why don’t we all call our parents that we’re staying here and order in some food?”

Phantom shrugged, then sat down on a stool hanging out in the greenhouse. “Sounds good to me.”

“Same,” Specter said, following his example. Manes shrugged and nodded her approval as well.

“We could talk a little about the differences between our realities.” Danny stepped forward to nudge Phantom. “I, for one, would really like to know why you’re wearing white.”

“What am I, a goth?” Phantom laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve got Sam for that.”

Oh yeah, they would get through the time well enough, Tucker thought.

---

“I think it’s late enough,” Specter muttered, and Tucker jerked out of the drowse he’d fallen into. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he followed her gaze to outside the greenhouse.

“Looks like it,” he agreed with a yawn. “Let’s all sneak off to the park, then.”

The other half-ghosts—and Danny and Sam—pushed themselves out of their seats as well, getting to their feet slowly. Looked like he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten tired while waiting.

Actually, it made perfect sense that all his fellow half-ghosts got as little sleep as he did. Ghost hunting was bad for your sleep rhythm, he knew.

Tucker waved Danny over closer, then pushed a camera into his hand. “Can you film the thing for me?”

Danny snorted but nodded. “Of course, Tuck. Just don’t get yourself sucked into an alternate reality, please?”

“I’ll try,” he promised wryly, then nodded at the other half-ghosts, who had gathered into a sorta-kinda circle around the two of them. “I think the best plan is for all of us to fly there together. Two of us can carry Sam and Danny to sneak them in with us.”

Manes shrugged and stepped forward. “I can carry my counterpart, and Phantom can take Danny.”

“You’re volunteering my services?” Phantom squawked, then shook his head and stepped forward as well. “Sure, whatever. Yeah, I’ll carry this universe’s version of myself, no problem.”

Getting a nod of approval from Danny and Sam, Tucker figured it was all satisfied and shrugged. “If everyone’s fine with that. Let’s get going, then.”

He shifted into his ghost form before he finished the sentence, the other three half-ghosts following his example.

But, man, Tucker really hoped this would work. Having the other three stick around might be helpful in the whole ghost hunting business, but it was weird to see what his friends would look like as ghosts. Or, as half-ghosts at least, since he knew they all looked rather human compared to most other ghosts.

Phantom easily scooped up Danny, despite his earlier protests, and Manes was quick to follow suit and pick up Sam.

Tucker, not quite sure why he was their lead—because this was his universe, maybe?—pushed himself off of the ground, flickering intangible for a moment to exit the greenhouse. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to make sure the others followed, because he could feel them, faintly, trailing just a little behind him.

Good thing that it was too dark for people to tell who they were carrying, because that would be awkward. If people questioned Ghouley about the other ghosts he could at least sorta-kinda tell the truth and say they were his friends, but if they had seen Sam or Danny with them? That was asking for trouble, for sure.

Before he knew it they had arrived at the park, all of them touching down silently. They must’ve looked like a fright, their glowing eyes piercing through the dark, but it looked abandoned enough.

Which was exactly what they had counted on, since the park was closed at night, but you never knew.

Sam and Danny were released by Manes and Phantom, trailing away to the edge of the square where they had landed. Making sure they stayed out of the way of whatever was going to happen here.

Good. That made Tucker feel better. If this somehow went catastrophically wrong… at least they would be safe.

Specter reached forward, suddenly, grabbing Phantom’s hand and linking their fingers together. Then, with her free hand, she gestured Manes over.

Clearly the other half-ghost caught on quicker than Tucker or Phantom, because she grabbed Specter’s free hand and then reached for Tucker. Following their example, he linked his hand with Manes’ offered hand, and then grabbed Phantom’s, completing the circle.

“This is stupid,” the half-ghost in question muttered, glaring venomously at the ground between them. “I’m pretty sure I used my hands to open the first portal.”

“Well, what else do you want us to do to offer our strength? Put our hands on your back?” Specter snorted, the smile in her voice undeniable. “Just try it, ghost-boy.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, then closed them. Took a deep breath. For a moment, it looked like nothing happened, but then…

Then, Tucker could feel the swell of power in the air. Could feel it waver through Phantom, down their connected hand. Could feel the energy running through his own core, through his hand to Manes.

Could feel the pulses of— of whatever it was going through all of them at once.

And, as a terrible but familiar shredding sort of noise sounded, the energy fled from them all at once. Phantom pulled himself free from Tucker’s hold—not that Tucker tried to stop him—and stepped closer to one of the three portals that had opened up.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Tucker muttered to himself, and he heard Manes snort next to him. Quickly he let go of her hand as well, and watched her step closer to one of the portals as well. A different one than Phantom’s.

“I think it did,” Specter said thoughtfully, moving towards the third portal. “It… calls to me, almost?”

Manes hummed in agreement. Rather than reply, Phantom just stuck his head through the portal he’d been looking at. Tucker flinched automatically, but Phantom pulled himself back out before he could move closer.

“It looks right,” Phantom agreed, cautiously. “It feels right, too. But it’s hard to say. From what I’ve seen, this Amity Park looks just like mine, and I assume so do yours.”

“Yeah.” Manes shrugged, then. “We’ll just have to hope for the best, then. If this didn’t work we didn’t have any alternative plans anyway, so…”

Specter snorted. “That’s true, unfortunately.” She took her eyes off of the portal to look at Tucker—and at Sam and Danny, who had crept in closer. “Thanks for the hospitality, and,” she turned to shoot looks at Phantom and Manes, “thank all of you for the experience.”

“Yes, what she said,” Manes agreed, a smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you all for the help as well.”

Phantom nodded. “Yeah, uh. Sorry for causing this, probably? And thanks to uh, all of you.” He nodded again, this time to Tucker and his friends, then stepped towards his portal. And paused.

“Uh, maybe you two should leave first? I don’t want to risk yours closing if I’m gone.”

Manes clapped him on the shoulder, then, still smiling, stepped through her portal. The moment she was gone from their sight, the swirling green mass pulled together and disappeared like it had never been there at all.

“Good luck,” Specter wished Phantom, and then floated through her portal. Once more, it immediately closed behind her.

Phantom nodded at them. “Seriously. Sorry for the mess, and thanks.”

“Just go, dude.” Tucker waved, and with a grin, Phantom stepped through the last portal.

He waited for a few moments after the portal had closed. When no new portals popped up, he sighed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over him. “Man, I really hope that worked out fine.”

“They’ll be fine,” Sam said, then nudged him. “They’ll have the help of their friends.”

Tucker hummed, then turned to Danny. “You got that, right?”

“Of course I got it,” Danny scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d be crazy not to. Yeah, I got it.”

Tucker nodded, then turned to look at the empty space again. The place where the other half-ghosts had just been.

“I really hope that nothing else crazy like this happens, because I really don’t think I can handle that.” He sighed. “And… I hope that they’re all okay.”

“I’m sure they will be.” Danny bumped his other shoulder, taking the opposite side of Sam. “Now come on, let’s get some sleep. You need it.”

“Wow,” Tucker mumbled back, already turning around again. “Hurtful.”

[cygnetofthesea]

Happy Mother’s Day, Iris

In honor of Mother’s Day, here’s a little bit of Iris celebrating with her family. Happy Mother’s Day to all the loving, doting mothers and mother figures!

On AO3

It was the smell of fresh coffee and the touch of soft lips pressing against her cheek and lips that woke her up. She kept her eyes closed as a smile broke across her face and the kisses traveled up to her lids.

She sighed in complete and utter contentment, reaching up to thread her fingers through her husband's hair. She stroked the thick locks, feeling his hum against her skin.

"Happy Mother's Day," he greeted her softly

"Thank you. How are the babies?" she murmured, her voice raspy from lack of use.

"Perfect as always."

Iris burst out laughing, finally opening her eyes to see Barry sprawled horizontally on his side of the bed, fully dressed and his legs dangling off the side. She leaned over and kissed the space between his brows, endeared by his goofy smile.

"Perfect, huh? I mean, they are perfectly beautiful but well-behaved? I don't know about that."

"They sure take the 'terrible twos' to the next level," he agreed. "The parenting books definitely were not written with them in mind. Want to sleep in a little more? You might need it."

He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead as she shook her head. "Uh-uh, I want to see the tornado twins."

They shared a smile, remembering how Cisco gave Nora and Bart the nickname after they had started vibrating slightly in place. They found that when the brother and sister were together and playing with McSnurtle, their excitement went up a level that caused them to vibrate in place. Barry and Iris had lunged to grab them before anything else could happen but it was safe to say, they kept the babies' interaction with McSnurtle to a minimum until Cisco finished his dampening bracelets for them.

Barry's smile dropped slightly, looking off to the side. She knew that look: his speed force senses were tingling, which meant the babies were acting up again.

Barry sped away and in a flash brought back little Bart and Nora in his arms as Iris sat up in bed. Her face lit up, any traces of grogginess washing away at the sight of her gorgeous babies. Her heart felt like they had doubled in size as she reached over to grab the nearest baby, Bart.

He made grabby hands at her, settling them on her hair and locket when she kissed his chubby cheeks. She leaned over to smooch Nora's too as Barry settled in next to her.

"It’s like      your    speed force senses were tingling," he said with a chuckle. "They spotted McSnurtle."

"Mama, Snurtle play!" Nora squealed before leaning over Barry's arm and turning to her mom as though she had the turtle she so coveted.

"Sn-snurtle play, Mama," Bart repeated looking at his mom inquisitively.

Iris smooched both her babies again after brushing their wispy curls. "Not today, babes. We're going to try to make it without incident today. Ok?" she asked, nodding with a smile.

The twins were only two-years old but it didn't stop Iris from talking to them like they understood complex language. She just loved the wide-eyed looks they gave her in return. Plus, Barry more than made up for it in the baby-talk department.

Case in point, he was leaning over Nora just then, adopting a goofy voice. "You wanna pway with McSnurtle the turtle? You want to pway wid him? Yes you dooo."

Nora just gave him the same wide-eyed look Bart had just given her. "Snurtle!" she repeated as though attempting to conjure him up.

Barry turned Nora to face Bart more fully and Iris did the same with Bart. They found when they didn't get their way, the best thing to do was let them play with each other and they'd forget all about their baby plights.

Barry grinned at Iris crookedly as the babies fought against their holds to play with each other. They released them, keeping a careful eye on their crawling bodies.

"I wanted you to have breakfast in bed without interruptions," Barry said, taking hold of her hand.

It was only then Iris noticed the familiar rolling breakfast tray covered with an assortment of her favorite foods and a single frangipani that could only be found in Bali. She spotted some familiar foods that definitely were not from Central City.

"Oh my god!" she squealed, drawing the attention of her babies before they turned back to their light wrestling. "Is that pan au chocolate from Gérard Mulot?" she asked in a perfect French accent.

It was her favorite bakery in Paris that she took Barry to on their third anniversary. She had fallen in love with the place that Barry made sure to get it for every special occasion or really, whenever Iris was in the mood for it.

Barry rolled the tray over her and let her dig in. "Yup and the one from Marais, too. Nothing but the best for my beautiful baby mama," he said pressing a kiss to her cheekbone.

She groaned in pleasure as the smooth, dark chocolate blended perfectly with the warm, flaky croissant in her mouth. "Holy sh-crap. If the kids weren't here, I'd pounce on you."

"Oh that can most definitely be arranged," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. He took the piece of pastry she offered, licking the chocolate from her finger. "Tonight, after the portraits and dinner, it's just you and me. I have a whole day planned with us and the kids, it'll be enough to tucker them out for the night."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, sliding a grape in her mouth as she looked at from underneath her lashes. "And what exactly is going to happen once the twins are asleep?"

He peeked at said twins—they were happily occupied with a Flash plush toy, squealing "Dada!"—before leaning over to lick at her lips, taking any of the residual pastry with him. He kissed her, letting his tongue slide into her mouth to taste her.

"Oh I don't know, maybe we could watch Inception and light up that oyster candle thing," he said in a deep and husky voice.

She knew he was using his bedroom voice and normally it would make her body tingle enough to tackle him, but his words made her giggle against his lips. She leaned into the kiss some more, tilting her head to take in his lips because yes, despite the humor his words evoked, she would always want him.

She pulled away slowly, watching as he took his time opening his eyes, the flutter of his lashes making her heart clench.

"You still really think it was that combo that knocked me up?"

He looked at her, his cheeks flushed with desire, but he looked sheepish. "Hey, the guy said oysters were an aphrodisiac." The guy being a young waiter at the Japanese restaurant where Barry had gone to pick up their takeout.

"Please babe, as if we ever needed any aphrodisiac. Your libido is plenty." She pulled at her lower lip. "So is mine, come to think of it. Who knew nerds were my weakness. Or maybe it's just you."

"It better just be me," Barry growled, pretending to bite her. She pushed at his shoulder with a laugh.

"Besides, it's the act of      eating oyster     that's supposed to be the aphrodisiac, not sniffing an oyster-scented candle. Which I still can't believe you tracked down."

"Ok, we can skip the oyster candle," he amended.

"Please."

"And how about I give you a nice massage instead."

"Yes, please."  

 "With Inception on or off?"

Iris snorted. "Definitely off. I don't need Hans Zimmer making our lovemaking feel dramatic and scary. But we are watching it first."

"You got it." He kissed again and then grabbed a familiar looking album. It melted her heart every time she saw it and remembered the first time Barry presented it to her.

Iris has been four months pregnant with the twins and hadn't even thought of Mother's Day other than to buy flowers for Nora and Francine's graves. Despite her mother being absent in her life, she was grateful that she had at least given her Wally and been a mother to him. She had brought the flowers home only to be greeted with a huge arrangement sitting on their dinner table next to a brand new photo album.

She looked at the arrangement curiously before turning to Barry who was bringing over a matcha mille crepe cake from her favorite place in New York City. She had been craving matcha anything as of late and Barry never hesitated to speed over to Prince Tea House over in East End to get them for her.

"Hey babe, I already got the flowers," she said, gesturing at the bouquets in her arm.

He beamed at her, his eyes soft. It was that look he always gave her, that was reserved just for her: as though she was a marvel he couldn't believe existed. As though she was the impossible and not him and his speedster abilities.

"They're for you. Happy Mother's Day, Iris."

 Maybe it was her hormones—most definitely—or maybe it was that look he was giving her, but Iris could feel her eyes welling up. Barry immediately set the mille crepe down and gathered her in his arms, the flowers crushing in between them.

"You're a mom, Iris. A beautiful, wonderful one at that. You have been since the moment Nora walked into our lives that day and you deserve to be celebrated."

 She sniffled and gave him a watery smile. "And you're a dad."

Barry shook his head. "It's not the same. I…I wasn't there for Nora like I should have been, the way you were," he said with regret and residual grief. "But I'm going to do better this time around. I will be anything you and our babies need."

Iris cupped his cheek, stroking the five o'clock shadow there. "I know you will."

She knew it in her heart that he would do anything and everything for them. She kissed him softly, savoring the moment with his scent mixing with the flowers around them.

She pulled away and looked at the album. "But what's that?"

He grabbed the album and presented it to her. On the front cover, he had placed a candid picture of her, smiling brightly with a frangipani tucked behind her ear and a bundle of them in her hands. Barry had made it a habit to collect a bundle of flowers that surrounded the resort where they stayed. It was a large and private area that made it feel like they were in their own little world.

"I want to commemorate every moment of this," he said. "Just like I want to honor every single moment of our lives together. You're the most incredible woman, Iris West-Allen, and I know you're going to be the most incredible mother. I want our children to be able to see their mother every step of the way. How she carried them with love and nurtured them with the utmost care and compassion. Even while they were wreaking havoc on her hormones."

He had looked like he was going to say more, but Iris couldn't wait any longer. She took the album from him and set them on the table with the flowers and kissed him with everything in her.

When she eventually pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together, their heavy breaths mingling together.

"I love you Barry Allen."

"I love you, Iris West-Allen."

And so began tradition. Barry had taken a portrait of Iris with their camera, her wedding ring sparkling brightly as she rested her hand on her belly, curving around it as though protecting their babies. And she was protecting them, just as Barry would protect her.

This Mother's Day, they would be adding a third picture to the album, with the twins slightly bigger than the last photo.

Barry hugged her to him, the album against his chest with her image on the outside. "Ready to add to this?"

Iris glanced over at her babies fooling around on their bed and then turned to her husband, her heart full. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

"Always."

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 33

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 2,212

Warnings: Edging, orgasm denial, panty kink, tongue fucking, fingering, handjob, cum, subspace, throat fucking.

A/N: The next entry for @cm-kinkbingo​ run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt​. This fulfills my panty kink square.

With three rapidly growing children, your dynamic is much different than it was when you met, but it remains, in ever-evolving ways. Charlotte is somehow just over three years old now (the time has seriously flown by), running around the apartment like a twister in the Midwest. Blake and Morgan are six months old. And now the apartment is feeling especially small, so although scary, and another big step in your little world, you and Spencer start to look at houses about a half hour outside the city.

Spencer chooses your outfits, down to the lingerie, every single morning, ensuring that you feel some sense of his dominance every day. Today, he chose nude lace for underneath your jeans and green tank top.

Since you have a day off and Spencer’s only class is later tonight, you decide to take the kids to the park, and invite Ai and Kyle to come visit with the twins. Now seasoned parents, you manage to get all three of the kids and yourselves ready to go in about an hour.

Ai and Kyle will be able to meet you in 30 minutes and the park is only a few blocks away, so you sit Charlotte in front of the TV and put the twins in their playpen to watch Spongebob for a few minutes. “They’re occupied for a minute,” Spencer whispers, grabbing your hand and leading you behind the kitchen counter. “Come here, I have an idea.”

Charlotte is reveling in Spongebob and the babies are playing with each other, so they are none the wiser when Spencer dips his hands into your jeans and above the lace he picked out. “I was hoping we might have some time today. So, when we have a few minutes, I’m going to edge this pretty little pussy of yours. Above the lace of course. If you can keep yourself from coming, I’ll repay you after they go to sleep tonight.”

“You’re on, Sir.”

Spencer laughs against your neck as he slips his pointer finger between your folds over the lace. The friction sends an immediate shiver through your body. The television fades into the background as Spencer works his magic. With practiced precision, he switches between rubbing against you and tapping your clit, which leaves you clasping your legs together in desperation within minutes. The minute Charlotte turns around and asks about the park, he pulls his hand away.

With a frustrated smile, you gather the kids up and head out, your mind spinning with what’s to come later.

---

As soon as you get to the park, Charlotte runs toward the slide, squealing with happiness as her soft brown curls bounce up and down. She looks so much like Spencer. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ai and Kyle approaching, eyes brimming with tears at how much the twins have grown. They’ve seen them in pictures and videos, but this is the first time since they were born that they’ve had time in their schedules to see them. “They’re so big already,” Ai says softly, brushing Blake’s hair out of his eyes. All of you, even Ai and Kyle, take turns playing with Charlotte on the playground. She’s the captain of a pirate ship, but makes all of you take turns steering the boat.

While one of you plays with Charlotte, the other three have the chance to catch up, learning all about how the young couple is fairing during their first semesters in college. “We don’t sleep. Pulling all-nighters all the time,” Kyle laughs, bouncing Morgan up and down on his knee. “But I’d imagine you guys are in the same boat.”

“Absolutely,” you laugh. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Kyle is holding Morgan, Ai has Blake and Spencer is steering Charlotte’s pirate ship, allowing you to sit back and sigh contentedly. This is your unique little family. And it’s your everything.

---

After Ai and Kyle give the twins and Charlotte a hug and kiss goodbye, you all head your separate ways, with promises to get together for more park time soon. As soon as you get home, Blake and Morgan are in desperate need of a nap, and Charlotte had so much fun at the park that she decides she needs to “relax” and asks for a cup of apple juice on the couch.

With them once again preoccupied, Spencer pulls you into the bathroom, pushing your jeans down just below your knees so he can lick at you above the lace. Little kitten licks, teasing at the edges of the lace near your skin make you into a whimpering mess within minutes. But instead of giving you that sweet relief, he pulls away, chiding you for how wet you are. “By tonight, these panties are going to be disgustingly soaked. And once the kids are asleep, I’m going to rip them off, shove them into your mouth and fuck you senseless. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Sir. I can’t wait.”

“Good, that means unless you have to use the bathroom, no wiping away that sweet evidence. I want it soaking through the lace by tonight.”

You feel the heat flush between your legs and pull your jeans up before returning outside to Charlotte passed out on the couch. Throughout the remainder of the day, you do the dishes, the laundry, and clean up the myriad of toys that have taken over the apartment floors like a minefield, edging you twice more in the process.

After feeding Blake and Morgan, Spencer pulls you away from starting dinner to bring you in the bedroom one more time before he has to leave for class. When he slides his tongue over the dampening lace, he moans. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper, peeking out from where you stand just near the bedroom door to keep an eye on Charlotte. “Can I ask you to do something for me, Sir?” You whimper just as his eyes lock with yours.

Nodding, he stands up and edges you the rest of the way with his fingers. “What do you need, love?”

“I’m feeling especially slutty today, Sir. I was wondering if I could make you come right now, into my panties, so I can keep you with me while you’re in class.”

Spencer makes quick work of undoing his pants and pulling your hand toward his hardening cock. Stroking, you arch your neck into his open mouthed kisses, quietly encouraging him to mark you with his teeth. Once he’s on the edge, he takes control, making himself come as you pull your panties away from your body and bite your lip. “Such a disgusting little slut,” he laughs. “I’ll be home in a few hours. Keep yourself nice and edged for me. Every hour or so. Don’t come. I’ll know.”

He says it all in clipped tones before redoing his pants, running out of the room and giving Charlotte a kiss goodbye. “Take care of mommy, okay?”

“I will!” She says, waving with all her might.  

---

With Spencer out, you change the babies and return to making dinner for you, Charlotte, and Spencer for when he gets home. You quickly boil some pasta and heat up some sauce on the side. Charlotte likes dipping the noodles into it.

Once their bellies are full, you set them all up on the floor and allow Charlotte to take the lead. She’s very much into playing pretend right now and it’s amazing to watch how her little mind works. “Hold Morgan and Blake,” she instructs. “I’m a bus driver.”

“Oh really?” You ask. “Where are you taking us?”

“School, of course!” She takes her seat in front of you and pretends to drive. Eventually, she decides you’re all in a castle and she has to come rescue you before the babies get cranky again. “Can I help?” She asks when you get up to change their diapers again.

“Absolutely! Follow me.”

She pads behind you happily, entertaining Blake while you change Morgan, who’s now screeching. But once she has a clean diaper she’s good to go again. And Blake was apparently only crying because Morgan was, because his diaper is clean. “Twin thing, huh?”

He looks at you quizzically before farting. “Ewww,” Charlotte laughs. “Babies are gross.”

“But they’re cute,” you reply. “Right?”

Charlotte nods and asks if they can go play again, so you carry them out as she puts her stuffed animals in a circle and tells you where to play the babies. “I’m driving the long car.” She gestures with her arms.

“A limo? The babies are in a limo? Why?”

“Why not?”

“You know what, I didn’t even think of that,” you laugh. “Can you keep an eye on them while I go to the bathroom?”

“Yup!” She gives them both a toy to keep them preoccupied while she takes her place as the driver.

Slipping into the bathroom, you quickly edge yourself. You lost track of time, so this is the only time you’ll be able to do it before Spencer gets home, but you don’t think he’ll mind. Just as you’re about to come, you hear him at the front door, rip your hand away and wash your hands. “Good class?”

He leans in to kiss you. “Yea, great one actually. What’s Charlotte doing?”

“Driving the babies in a limo.”

“Why?”

“She said why not.”

Spencer laughs. “She’s got a point. Have you been doing as I asked?”

“Just now, I lost track of time. But don’t worry, as soon as they’re asleep, you can use my holes in whatever way you want.”

“Fuck, I love you.” He smiles.

---

Due to her midday nap, Charlotte has no desire to sleep, making it especially difficult to get her to stay down for the night, but after Spencer reads to her for nearly an hour, she drifts off. Blake and Morgan are already asleep, completely tuckered out from their big day.

In the hallway, Spencer holds you close, taking a moment to breathe.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yea.” His eyes soften when his eyes lock with yours. “Just taking a minute to realize how lucky I am.”

Cradling his face, you kiss him softly and walk backward toward the bedroom. “We’ve built a pretty amazing little life for ourselves haven’t we?”

“Perfect. More than I ever thought possible.”

He tickles your sides, turning you into a giggly mess within seconds. In an instant, his eyes go from soft to dark, storm-filled, as he eyes your body hungrily.

Without even being told, you strip and get on all fours on the bed. Spencer picks up your panties and once again teases you for how wet they are. “Open up.”

The panties taste of you both. It’s not the most pleasant feeling having them in your mouth, but knowing how desperate you look and how much Spencer loves it that makes you want to keep them in. As he climbs onto the bed behind you, you allow yourself to zone out, sucking on the lace as he slips himself into your sodden heat.

The squelching sound makes your eyes roll back, your hips doing the same in search of the friction you so desperately crave. “Just relax,” he says softly. “Melt into the bed.”

Each time he speaks, you feel yourself being pulled down into that sweet oblivion. He thrusts in and out of you rhythmically, laughing as he watches your wetness slip down your thighs. “Such a little slut.”

“Yours,” you mumble in reply. It’s the only word you know.

Spencer leans forward, pulling the panties out of your mouth and dropping to the floor. He pushes you toward the edge of the bed, so your head is hanging over. “Now keep that mouth open while I fuck you.”

He’d positioned you in front of the mirror, so now you can see yourself, mouth slack and eyes glazed over as he thrusts behind you.

Groaning, Spencer grabs your hands and holds them behind your back with one hand, using the other to scratch your ass. “Gonna make you come around my cock. What are you?”

“Yours.” You sigh again.

As a string of saliva makes its way to the floor, you tremble around him, your eyes rolling back while Spencer holds you steady. You’re still shaking as Spencer turns you over and gets off the bed to stand over your head. “Open.”

Your mouth falls open of its own accord, welcoming the feeling of his thickness on your tongue. Bit by bit, he slides into your mouth, taking it slowly because he knows you’re not in the right space to take care of yourself. He has to do it for you. “Little wider, love.”

Again, your body complies, opening your mouth wider as he slides all the way down. “Such a good girl,” he chokes out. “Can you feel this?”

He places his hand on your throat, where he can feel himself thrusting.

Moaning in reply, he lets go, coming thick into your throat. When he pulls out, you smile. “Yours,” you whisper.

Gathering you into his arms, he cleans you both up and sits next to you in bed, combing his hand through your hair as he replies. “Yours.”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn​ @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid​ @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1​ @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid​ @lazynoodledragon​ @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97​ @grace-superpowers​ @softestlavender​ @ssa-dr-ladylock​ @drprettyboy​ @patricks-fabulous-face​ @tearosaria​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @marvels-gurl​ @gublergirls​

[rubykgrant]

(here is the chapter from my “I Just Have to Say It” story, after everybody has listened to the other messages Epsilon left for them; it includes some crying, some laughing, Grif trying to tell Simmons something important that goes entirely over his head, and Wash forcing everybody to watch the Care Bears~)

When they start coming back out of their rooms (helmets on again), nobody is quite sure what to say to each other. Some of them want to talk… about Church, what he said to them, how it made them feel… but what if the others DIDN’T want to share it all? They wind up shuffling into the living room area again, standing around awkwardly. Grif and Simmons gravitate toward each other subconsciously, because they ALWAYS do that, nobody ever questions it (and nobody suspects that right now, they both want to be as close as possible. They don’t even realize it themselves). Sarge initially stands off on his own, but then there is Lopez by his side, and Sarge gives the robot an agreeable nod (evidently accepting his company).

Caboose’s face is hidden, but everybody can hear the sniffles coming from him and know he’s been crying (they’ve ALL been crying, Caboose is just very obvious about it). Doc and Donut both glance at each other, silently deciding that somebody needs to give Caboose a hug. They walk over, raise their arms up, and Caboose instantly leans down to embrace them (from his point of view, they are asking HIM for comfort, and he’s happy to do it). Carolina walks out to the middle of the room and stops… she hadn’t meant to, she’s not trying to literally be the “center of attention”, but she feels a rather nasty sob threatening to break free, so she pauses and waits for it to pass (it doesn’t actually let go of her, but she at least makes it sound smaller).

Wash starts to go toward her, then abruptly haults… he wants to offer her a shoulder to cry on, the way Donut and Doc are with Caboose, but she might not want that right now (absentmindedly, his hand goes up to rub at his neck… right where the most recent scar is). Tucker walks past Wash and stands with his arms crossed, almost like he’s sulking (he’s actually not upset, just thinking… he wants to lighten the mood SOMEHOW).

Finally, Tucker finds the words.

“Damn it, Church… you really had to wait until you were DEAD to say you liked us? You repressed nerd,”

Everybody around him freezes. Well, he’s got their attention, he might as well keep going.

“No, wait, do you guys think he did this on PURPOSE? Because he freaking WOULD,” Tucker feels a hand on his shoulder. Wash. He also hears something behind him, a little bit like a guilty and amused snicker… also Wash.

Over to one side, Grif and Simmons are trying and failing to control their own laughter (glancing at each other only makes it worse). Sarge lets out a snort while Lopez mechanically chuckles. Caboose has lifted up his head to look at Tucker, Doc turning around slightly to do the same. The only one in the three-person-hug who doesn’t glance in Tucker’s direction is Donut… who is making a sputtering noise that is going to turn into a giggle-fit if he doesn’t stop it. Carolina hasn't moved or made a noise.

Tucker decides that he’s making progress at least. Hearing the others laugh is good, the tension and sadness had been almost SUFFOCATING in here before, but now he can actually breathe. He drops his arms and leans around, back toward Wash.

“I stood around and talked with Alpha YEARS, and he tried to act like he was too damn jaded to be sentimental. Then I stand around talking with Epsilon, and he tries to act like he's not a softie either... and what does he do? Saves all the emotional honesty for when he kicks the bucket. He KNEW it was gonna mess us up, he just had to have the LAST WORD-” he’s suddenly cut-off by a soft voice… but this is a voice he knows means BUSINESS, a voice that can be DANGEROUS… even when the volume was low.

“Tucker, you… just knock it OFF, Tucker…” Carolina sounds tense, her voice is strained, she’s stepping closer to him, and HE HAS MADE A BIG MISTAKE, HE SHOULDN’T HAVE STARTED JOKING SO SOON…

She wraps one arm all the way around him, putting her hand on the one Wash is still resting on Tucker’s shoulder, touching them both. Her other arm grabs on to Tucker as well, and her head leans down against his neck. For moment, Tucker does nothing, he’s just standing there, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. Is she gonna get him in a head-lock? Throw him across the room?

“D-don’t make me la-haha-LAUGH when I’m already CRYING you- you stupid jerk…” she sniffs and shakes against him slightly.

Oh… this was OK? Yeah, it seems to actually be OK. Carolina wasn’t going to murder him. She was still crying a bit, but also LAUGHING. It was making her voice crack. This was happening. Tucker does the only thing he can think of; he hugs her back (as always, careful to put his hands in places that could not at all be confused for trying to cop a feel).

“WOAH, a Carolina hug? See? Do you all see what Church did? He broke her!” Tucker finally feels safe, and the others are laughing much louder now.

“Honestly, I was surprised that Church could be so… nice? And comforting?” Doc says to Donut.

“I know right?” Donut replies. “He was secretly a sweet-heart the whole time!” he and Doc both still have Caboose’s arms wrapped around them. It feels good, being able to just casually embrace each other.

Over in their own little world, Grif and Simmons are talking now too.

“Kinda crazy, huh?” Simmons leans towards Grif, bringing one hand up in a questioning gesture. “I mean, Tucker's right. Every Church we ever knew, he was always complaining and insulting us, but then-“

“-then he goes and pulls a noble sacrifice on us, AND gets all sappy after the fact,” Grif finishes for him. He sounds sarcastic, but Simmons has listened to Grif mumble and grumble long enough to notice the difference between disdain and endearment. “Pick a lane, Church!”

Off to their right, they hear Sarge clear his throat. Grif turns to look, and Simmons snaps his head up to pay attention for any potential orders.

“Well, I wouldn’t have any PERSONAL insight to this kinda thing, but if I had to guess… he, ah- he maybe wasn’t quite sure HOW to tell us anything nice after so much time spent of actin’ like he didn’t really care…” Sarge is keeping his voice casual and calm… which sounds VERY odd, coming from him. It exposes him right away; he actually DOES have some personal insight to this kinda thing. “And he pro’lly thought he’d have more time later to figure out how to be honest, maybe even let us know some of stuff that, ah- that Alpha never got 'round to tellin' us, but then we were all suddenly in a bad situation, and he had to make a choice… so he chose to save us and say everything he really wanted us to hear… even though he’d never hear what WE want to say to HIM,”

Lopez gently pats Sarge’s head. Normally, Sarge would threaten anybody who dared to there-there him, but… well, somehow it seems alright. Coming from Lopez, this isn’t condescending. He chuckles again; he really must be getting soft.

“Imagine that, gettin’ as close as ‘ya can to somebody, and not even telling ‘em the truth of how ‘ya feel…”

Sarge is talking about Church… and himself. Part of him WANTS to just turn to everybody in this room and tell them they MATTER, that they are important to him. He doesn’t, because it still feels like he has to hold that part of himself back… he will though. Eventually he WILL, and internally promises this to himself (and to Church).

Simmons is looking admiringly at Sarge, somehow guessing exactly what Sarge came close to admitting. As much as he’d like to hear praise from the man who has been a very important authority figure for most of his adult life, he’s also used to reading between the lines when it came to what Sarge said.

Grif is looking at him too… because that had sounded incredibly INSIGHTFUL. He doesn't expect to hear stuff like that from SARGE. Just like he didn't expect to hear compliments from CHURCH. Grif keeps playing certain words on repeat in his head… getting as close as you can to somebody… telling them the truth of how you feel… oh, he’s in TROUBLE, he is reading WAY too much into it, why the heck does everything make him think of SIMMONS? He had to stop this feeling from creeping up on him, this sappy and wistful feeling, it was TERRIBLE.

“Hmm… well, speaking of sharing our feelings…” Wash sounds like he has something planned… he leans closer to Tucker and Carolina, who are now standing side-by-side, arms over each other’s shoulders. “You know what I think we should all do? We should watch the Care Bears movie!”

“… seriously?” Carolina can’t mistake that excited and yet sincere voice Wash uses when he talks about something that’s VERY important to him… but, Care Bears? She MUST have heard him wrong. Tucker’s just glad Carolina questioned him first, because he was about ready to say something to Wash that would sound a LOT less nice.

“Yeah, seriously! The Care Bears were my FAVORITE as a kid!” he really WAS talking about the Care Bears. Oh, and now he was getting on a ROLL… “They literally fight evil spirits and monsters that infect people with hatred and sadness, and they do it with the power of love and friendship, and they all have unique personalities and magical abilities-”

“OH MY GOSH, the Care Bears sound AWESOME!!!” Caboose is excitedly jumping up and down (practically levitating with glee), while still holding on to Donut and Doc, so they have no choice but to bounce along with him.

“Haha, I guess we’re watching the Care Bears!” Donut throws a hand up in defeat. If Wash wanted to do it, they definitely had to; he had recently been hurt… your friends were obligated to comply with your nonsensical requests in situations like that. Even if that wasn’t the case, now that SOMEBODY was on board, they would have to go along with it or suffer a moody and melancholy Caboose. Basically, they had no choice… not that Donut really minded. The Care Bears seemed like something he would genuinely enjoy. Doc also had no complaints… sharing your feelings? Rediscovering comforting things from your childhood? This was a wonderful idea!

“Heck yeah, let’s do this! We’ll watch the original Care Bears movie first, and then we’ll watch A New Generation, and THEN-” Wash wasn’t just on a roll, he was turning this into a MARATHON.

“Dang Wash, how many freaking Care Bears movies are there?” Tucker is mostly just complaining for show… he’s forced them to watch Reservoir Dogs more than a dozen times by now. He can sit through Care Bears (he’s just going to heckle Wash the whole time).

Wash leads the way to the little den area where the TV is, followed by Tucker, Carolina, Sarge, Lopez, Doc, Donut, and Caboose… now the only ones left are Grif and Simmons.

Grif is still lost in thought, and he’s now very aware of the fact that the two of them are ALONE. They’re alone here, together, standing very close, and that FEELING is creeping up again, only this time it seems more URGENT, like he has to say something, he keeps babbling like an idiot but there’s one thing he hasn’t said, one thing he COULDN’T say, he's NEVER said it, but every time he doesn’t say it something happens, something bad that almost gets one or both of them killed, and then he thinks he lost his chance, until it turns out they’re both OK, and he just decides to not say it, it can wait, but now he HAS to, HE HAS TO SAY IT.

“Well, I better go show them how to switch the cords on the TV before Sarge gets mad and punches it…” Simmons sighs, and begins to walk away.

To Grif, that seems like a very BAD thing, and he has to stop Simmons from leaving. If he doesn’t, Simmons will be gone, and then Grif will be alone, and this rotten feeling will KILL him.

“… hey, Simmons?” Grif's voice is so quiet, but he's not letting it shake or squeak.

“Hmm?” he stops, just half a step from Grif.

“I love you,”

There it was. It was out of his head, out of his mouth. He said it. It was done.

“Awww… thanks Grif!” Simmons leans over, giving his friend a little side-hug with one arm. “I love you, too!”

That was nice of him… they usually just joked around, trading insults that were secretly compliments, because deep down they both liked spending time together… they just didn’t want to get so tenderhearted about it, that would be silly. Grif probably got a little shaken-up after listening to Church, and Simmons certainly felt emotionally drained… his friend must have been able to tell that he needed some comforting. The fact that Grif had just SAID it… Simmons really appreciated the effort (especially considering how much Grif hated effort). He said it back, not out of obligation, but because he meant it too! They were best friends, after all.

“AAAHHH! SIMMONS, HURRY!” Doc is suddenly screaming from the other room. “Sarge has his shotgun and he’s swearing at the DVD player!” they can also hear Lopez mutter something ( “Ni siquiera se como hacer que funcione…”).

“I’m coming, don’t worry!” Simmons rushes off, to the rescue… leaving Grif behind.

He stands there.

Not moving.

After a few seconds… Grif imagines he can almost hear what sounds like a cracking noise, very clear in the silence.

It is either the sound of his heart breaking (that was so sappy it was DISGUSTING), or his mind snapping (if he actually had a brain, he NEVER would have done this).

[devil-in-those-eyes]

One Day Part 2- Rudy Pankow

GUYS, I am SO sorry. I didn't think it would take me this long to get to part two, and I would have finished it yesterday, had I not lost my documents to do with this story, so I actually lost a few people that wanted to be tagged, so if you find it and you’re not there, please message me and I will get you added. This part isn't what I originally wanted, I wanted more added but I didn't want to overload you guys, so it’ll be continued in the next part. 

I hope you guys love this part.

Taglist: @thebendslikebendover @awkwardnesshabitat @dpaccione @danicarosaline @infinityspacesuniverse @pogues-never-say-die @poguescollins  @collectiveuniverses @jjmaybankx @diorsfxck @1d5sosddl @k-k0129 @popcrone818 

~

           “You literally promised.”

           “Something came up,” you tried again, looking up from your plate of food and at Henning, who had stolen a chair from a table that an older couple was sitting at and made room for himself as you sat at a little café with Kennedy, Zoe and Jamie for breakfast.

           “Something came up?” Henning echoed, leaning his elbow on the arm rest and leaned closer to you. “You promised me and Jamie you’d come.”

           You did promise him and you couldn’t deny it, but you also couldn’t tell him the real reason why you were suddenly going back on your word. The Pankow’s were having their yearly family cookout and they always extended the offer to you, despite the break up because they adored you. This year, when Jamie and Henning begged you to come, you agreed. Except, when you agreed Rudy wasn’t home. And you two didn’t have an argument on the back porch of Jamie’s cabin.

           There was no way in hell you could go, but again you couldn’t tell Henning that his older brother was the reason why. To Henning, Rudy was absolutely everything. Rudy and Alec were idolized in his eyes, they were the reason the sun shined and the moon and stars came out at night. To you, Henning was still the little kid that ran around pulling your hair and annoying, granted he still actually did it, he didn’t fully understand what happened or why and you didn’t expect him too. You kept him in the dark because it didn’t concern him and you didn’t want to make him feel like he had to pick sides when you were still showing up to his soccer matches and joining Jamie and Penny and Andrew to his high school graduation. He was too young when you and Rudy broke each others hearts and he never experienced love like what was between you and Rudy, he just wouldn’t get it.

           “I just can’t,” you said, lifting your coffee and taking a sip.

           “Y/N, we live in freaking Alaska,” he said in a bored groan, “you work for your mom and dad, what could possibly have come up since two nights ago?”

           “Henning, I just can’t,” you said, your voice a little loud. You closed your eyes briefly before turning your eyes onto Henning and you instantly saw Rudy in him. They couldn’t be more opposite, but he did the same thing Rudy used to do when you guys fought.

           His jaw clenched, as if pushing his tongue against his teeth, before slowly dragging his eyes up to look at you, filled with disappointment. He was looking at you the same way that Rudy looked at you at the party. “Fine, Y/N.”

           You sighed as he pushed the chair back, “Henning, wait.”

           But he was gone, walking away in easy and long strides, heading towards his car. Your chest caved in on itself because you hated disappointing Henning.

           “Y’know that Penny and Andrew are doing it for Rudy, right?” Jamie said softly, to your right. You looked at him to see him lifting his mug, “Penny would be upset if you bailed, especially since she asked if you’d come.”

           If Jamie wanted to jab a little harder and add a little guilt trip into it, then adding about Penny was the freaking way to do it. You all but groaned at his words as the guilt suddenly washed over you.

           You were totally aware that Penny would be upset if you bailed. You were also aware that it was for Rudy, you just didn’t know it when Jamie and Henning asked you to be there.. You didn’t know that Penny and Andrew were planning it in celebration for their son in the beginning, but now you could see it clearly. You also knew Penny would be upset if you didn’t show your face. Penny was like the mother of all mothers, in everyone’s eyes she was perfect. She was the one anyone could tell anything too, she was your mom when yours wasn’t picking up the phone. She had all but adopted Jamie when he and Rudy met in elementary school. She opened her arms wide when Rudy came home and announced you were his girlfriend and she kept those arms open when you broke up.

           Penny and Andrew never made you feel awkward, or as if their son was better off without you. She was always warm and had a colorful aura about her, it was like she ignored the heart break you felt because all she wanted to do was act like the break up never happened. Sometimes you wondered if she was still silently rooting for you and Rudy and it made it harder, because you had to stop wishing for it.

           “Jamie,” you started but then stopped yourself, looking down at your food. In all actuality, you didn’t know if you could see Rudy after two nights ago. It brought back too many feelings, too many memories and for some reason, you just couldn’t shake him, even years later.

           Why would you subject yourself to it? Subject yourself to his judgmental eyes as he questioned your taste in men? He couldn’t judge, or speak on who you decided to date because it wasn’t his concern, he made it perfectly clear the type of friendship he wanted to keep with you. And that was the type of friendship that never spoke.

           “You don’t even have to speak to Rudy,” Kennedy tried, trying to smile but failed miserably.

           “What the hell, yes she does. It’s his party, dumbass.” Zoe argued before looking at me, “Listen, pull on those big girl panties and just go, for Penny.”

           Zoe’s jab about quit being a pussy was softened by bringing up Penny, almost made you smile. Nothing bad could come out of going, right? Alec was finally home and you hadn’t seen him in years, it would make your week to see Penny and Andrew. And who knows, maybe Rudy will be so busy with talking with family and entertaining Chase that he wouldn’t even notice you there.

           All you had to do was go, show your face to his parents, shove it in Henning’s face and stay for an hour. Tops. Then you can retreat back to your safe haven of a home and pretend like you were well on your way with moving on from Rudy.

           Lying to yourself will get you no where.

           You ignored the little voice in your head and said softly, “Fine.”

           Jamie and Zoe looked all too smug that they had guilted you into it. Kennedy just sat there, raising her glass of water to her mouth, using her swallow of water to hide her smile. She might not have done as much as the other too, but she sure as shit was happy you’d be there.

           While they went on with their conversation, talking about what they wanted to do this summer as a group, besides work and prepare for an upcoming final year of school. While this happened, you sat there silently and couldn’t help but start to feel like the world was sinking around on you.

           What good would this bring you? Zoe and Kennedy understood where you stood with your feelings on Rudy, but for some freaking reason they were pushing and you didn’t understand what they were pushing for. Were they that blind, did they honestly believe Rudy would somehow stay longer than a week? Or two weeks? No, he wouldn’t. His life was now in California and yours was here, thousands of miles away. You were living separate lives and it was too different to pull off long distance… right?

           Typically, summer days went quickly for you. It had a lot to do with the fact that you were either working or with your group of friends finding things to do, but today just seemed to drag on. You were stuck inside your head and couldn’t get out, wondering how tonight would go with Rudy somewhere nearby, your stomach was constantly swirling with nervous butterflies, heart thumping heavily as you slowly pulled up to the Pankow residence. Hands trembled and knees shook as you parked your car among the others that littered the street.

           Just breathe.

           It wasn’t like Rudy would be upset that you were going to show your face. It wasn’t like you and Rudy left Jamie’s porch angry at one another, in fact you heard the pain inside his voice and saw the sadness drowning his blue ocean eyes. You saw the way his eyes avoided you, could barely look at you as Tucker wrapped his arms around your shoulders, as if he could barely stomach the idea of you being with someone that wasn’t him.

           Rudy being home threw you off so deeply that you hadn’t really talked with Tucker the last few days. You’ve been so stuck in the memories and living in the world of what if that Tucker hadn’t been on your mind, but he didn’t seem to mind. You and Tucker weren’t officially together, he wasn’t your boyfriend, you two were just dating and having fun. Or attempting to have fun.

           Just breathe.

           The backyard of the Pankow residence was swimming with people. Lots of them you recognized from his family, his uncles and aunts and cousins and family friends, teachers that Rudy had bonded deeply with. But no where did you find the familiarity of Zoe’s deep green eyes, or Kennedy’s blonde hair, of Jamie’s laugh that seemed to calm you as you stood, sticking out like a sore thumb.

           You wiped your sweaty palms over the thighs of your ripped jeans, tugging your light sweater closer to your chest, looking around for them.

           A blur of short, light colored hair and blue dress moved around you but then whirled around after seemingly catching sight of you.

           “Well, well, look who decided to grace me with her presence.” Penny teased, coming to a stop in front of you while carrying a big bowl of salad.

           Your cheeks flamed as she grinned at you. “Hi, Penny.”

           “Aren’t you a sight,” she said, taking you in. “You aren’t the skinny little seventeen year old anymore, are ya?”

           “Oh, god, please stop.” You groaned, your hand covering your cheek, attempting to stop the blush. You hated when she did this, giving compliment after compliment when she saw you. You didn’t think you changed too much since seventeen, but apparently you did. You gained a few pounds, thank you college, hair longer and better choices in clothing.

           Penny laughed and stepped towards you, “Bring it in, hon.”

           Penny balanced the bowl on her hip and opened an arm wide, you couldn’t help yourself in feeling giddy. You always loved Penny. You had a great relationship with your parents, but Penny was Penny, and the idea of seeing her smiling at you was part of the reason why you got out of your car.

She rubbed your back and pulled away, “You’re not leaving this house until we catch up, so have some wine and food and I’ll find you.”

           “Deal,” you promised her and watched as she walked away.

           For the first time all day, your lungs opened up and a steady breath filled your body. It released in a heavy puff, but you finally felt somewhat comfortable being here. Now, all you had to do was find your friends.

           “They’re in the kitchen.”

           You nearly fell over by the sudden voice that appeared behind you, startling you and making you whirl around to find Rudy standing there, with his hands in the front pockets of his light jeans. Your heart screamed at you as one hand reached up and slid through his hair and rested on the back of his neck, “Kennedy and Zoe dragged Jamie inside to make margaritas… that’s who you’re looking for, right?”

           He looked so handsome in his jeans and white button up shirt, that was tucked into the waist of his jeans. You felt your heart thump to a soft murmur of his name. Rudy.

           “Why am I not surprised?” you said, finally finding your voice.

           “Yeah, apparently Zo and Kenn don’t like beer?” He asked, “and my aunt brought long island mix and that’s out of the question?”

           As Rudy spoke, your face twisted into a grimace and your stomach twisted. Rudy smiled immediately at your face and you said, “We learned real quick at college that long islands are not our thing.”

           “Yeah, Zo said something about snow angels in the dead ass of winter?” Rudy said, seeming to get rid of nervous tension in his shoulders and relaxing as he looked down at you, still grinning.

           “Listen, the bartender was really nice but we didn’t know that those contain every liquor on shelf.” You defended, remembering the first winter break you guys had come home from college and ended up at a bar outside of town where the bartender didn’t card. “It didn’t hit us until Jamie and Collin tried getting us home.”

           Rudy chuckled lowly, “god, what a sight that probably was.”

           “I don’t actually remember doing the snow angels, but I woke up shivering and throwing up, massive hangover.”

           This time, Rudy’s laugh was loud and you suddenly felt a swell inside your chest that resembled proud. Proud that you made him laugh like you used too, the type of laugh that had his head tilting back and his eyes closing briefly. He looked back down at you and shook his head, “Baby-” Rudy caught himself, quickly recovering, “Y/N, come on. You shouldn’t have trusted the bartender.”

           You almost didn’t catch it, but you were paying such close attention to him that it was clear as day. The last few minutes felt too closely to old times that it showed you he still hadn’t broken the habit of calling you baby, you almost begged him to say it again, just to hear it roll off of his tongue.

           The idea of hearing it again had you blushing and looking down. You cleared your throat before lifting your head and motioning to Rudy’s porch, “In the kitchen?”

           Silently, still watching you, he nodded. You moved around him and started making your way inside. Rudy followed you, and suddenly you went from being calm to your palms sweating, all because he called you baby.

           Your friends were where he said, standing in a corner of the kitchen next to the blender. Jamie stood with Rudy’s friend, Chase, with beers in their hands while the two girls looked excited for the mixed drinks, a bottle of Patron sat next to the blender.

           Kennedy was the first to see you and a broad grin broke out on her face, “Best friend!”

           You laughed as Zoe’s head whipped around, her arms widening at the sight of you. “Bestie!”

           “Friends!” You exclaimed excitedly and left Rudy, bouncing towards your friends and giving Zoe a tight hug, despite just seeing them this morning.

           “Good lord, we just saw her,” Jamie said as you let go of Zoe and faced Jamie. You felt less nervous as you were surrounded by your three friends, despite Rudy took the spot between you and Chase. You reached and grasped either side of Jamie’s face and planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Yeah, yeah, get off.”

           Despite telling you to get off, Jamie’s arm wrapped around your waist. You laughed and smiled at him, “Good to see you, Jamie.” You said as his arm finally unraveled and rolled his eyes. You finally took your spot between Rudy and Zoe again, your arm accidently brushing against Rudy’s warm skin and almost halting you, but then you felt the light glide of his fingers through the sweater and shirt, against your lower back.

           “You must be Y/N,” Chase said, turning his eyes onto you.

           “Hi,” You said, giving him a smile, which only made his warm one grow. “Chase, right?”

           He nodded, “Nice to finally meet you. Rudy’s told me a lot about you.”

           You almost groaned with a slight grimace, “good things?”

           Chase grinned, “great things.”

           You slowly lifted your eyes to look at Rudy, and could have sworn that his cheeks had gone pink but he covered it up by lifting his beer and taking a sip. He didn’t meet your eyes and you felt a small twinge of disappointment, so while your friends went on to make plans for hiking tomorrow, you faced them and tried to engage in the conversation about wanting to show Chase around.

           Rudy slowly leaned in, his heat filling up your side as his mouth dropped to your ear. “How could I not talk about you?” He whispered, making your heart stop inside your chest. When he pulled back a few inches you tilted your head to look at him, no smile or humor filled his face. His bright eyes were just watching you, taking in your eyes and blushing cheeks, pausing to look at your parted lips while the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

           “I always talk about you,” he whispered again, finally drawing his eyes up to yours.

           It was like you could hear his heart pound with two words. One Day.

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 11

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, AO3

~*CS*~

Vancouver, May 30th

Emma stared out at the large, empty space in front of her feeling exhausted and exhilarated.  She was sitting with her feet dangling off the edge of the stage, her heels drumming against the wall without any discernible rhythm.  Her hair was still damp with sweat from the show and her arms ached from the intensity that she’d played but she didn’t care.  Even the roadies working around her barely paid her any attention, they all knew she was merely basking in the moment.

Her tour was officially done.  Seventeen cities in a month and every one of them had been amazing but there was always something extra special about the final show.  It was as though everything and everyone had come together to create a perfect moment in time that they capitalized on to give the best show possible.  Her playing had been spectacular, the others had been just as great, better even, and the audience had loved every second, sang every lyric, cheered their hearts out.  They’d ended up doing two encores.

As her gaze swept across the thousands of empty seats she let out a contented hum.  They had sold every ticket for every show and each venue had been just as big.  It boggled her mind that every person that filled those seats did so because they loved her music, connected with her lyrics, and appreciated what she was trying to communicate through her art.  She only wished she could have personally thanked each and every one of them for it.

The bustle behind her continued on as she soaked it all in.  She took no notice of the footsteps approaching her until a pair of familiar, well worn boots stopped beside her.  Looking up at Will with a smile she patted the stage next to her.  Lowering himself next to her she noticed that he’d taken a shower, the smell of his body wash still strong.  With a pang she realized that Killian had used the same brand.

“‘Nother one in the books, eh?” Will grinned, knocking her shoulder with his.

“Yeah,” she sighed happily, “Tonight was really great.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Clearly.  You haven’t done two encores in ages.  Then again, you haven’t been too keen on doin’ the planned one lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, frowning as she adjusted herself so she was facing him.

“Well-” he leaned back and gave her an unimpressed look, “Ever since LA and the shit with Killian you’ve been phonin’ it in a bit.  Tonight was the first show you actually looked like you were havin’ fun.”

“I haven’t been phoning it in!” She protested a little too loudly, some of the crew behind her stopped to look over at them.  Blushing she gave them a wan smile before glaring at Will, “I played my heart out at every show, asshole.”

“Not possible,” Will negated, his grin unfurled again, “You left that thing back in LA.”

She felt a pang of longing and regret again, even as she scrunched up her face in distaste, “That was really cheesy and absolutely not true.”

“Oy, you’ve put cheesier lines in your songs,” he accused. “Besides, I’m just the purveyor of truth in these troubled times.  Admit it, you’ve not been givin’ it your all.  Especially in Oakland.  That was a rough one.”

She opened her mouth to refute and couldn’t.  Will was absolutely right and she kind of hated him for it.  Oakland had been more than rough, it had almost been a disaster.  It had taken an intense pep-talk from Ruby and Tink combined to just get her to the venue.  She’d been able to put on a convincing enough show but the second she’d stepped backstage between the main set and the encore she’d nearly had a complete breakdown.  More than once during the show she had looked over expecting to see Killian grinning back at her and found Ruby instead.  Every little thing she’d pushed aside had hit her as she’d moved offstage and it had taken everything she’d had to get back out on stage to finish the show.

“Yeah, well...  Why didn’t anyone say anything?” She asked accusingly. “Regina didn’t even bring it up and you know she loves to find something to critique.”

“Eh, the shows haven’t been complete shite,” he said with a shrug. “No one’s posted a rant or got a new hashtag trendin’ and you know I’d tell you ‘bout those.”

She snorted, “I don’t know why you’re so fixated on social media.  Hasn’t Belle broken you of that habit yet?”

“Ah, but she loves me for all my charmin’ qualities,” he said with a wink. “I’ve her almost convinced to join Instagram.  Told her other nerds’ll love to see her books and all those plants her dad’s given her.  They like seeing all those uninspired posts you do of your piano after all.”

“It’s the only thing I’m comfortable sharing,” she mumbled.

Will stared at her for a moment before nodding and looking out at the empty seats.  She waited for him to finally say what he’d stayed behind to say instead of going back to the hotel with Belle.  He loved to tease and stir up trouble but she knew that when he got serious that it meant something.  There was no way he’d waited until nearly everyone else had left just so he could not so gently criticize the last few shows.

Instead of saying anything he began humming.  Emma rolled her eyes and focused on watching the last of the equipment being packed up and cleared off the stage.  It wasn’t until Will began singing under his breath that she recognized the song.

“Backstreet Boys?  Really?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Show me the meaning of being lonely,” he said instead of singing, “So many words for a broken heart.  Right, luv?”

She recoiled, “My heart’s not broken.”

“Could have fooled me and everyone else ‘round here.  Even Belle noticed somethin’s off with you.”

“She did?”

Instead of answering Will looked back out over the empty seats, leaning back on his hands as he did so.  He continued to recite the lyrics of the song, as though it was a masterpiece in verse instead of a late nineties pop song written with the sole purpose of being a hit.  She watched, impressed and amused by his unabashed performance, spoken in a voice that carried to an audience of one.

Just as she was about to press him about what it was about her, that definitely wasn’t a broken heart, that Belle had noticed he fell silent.  His mouth quirked up at the corner as he tilted his head to look at her.

“Have I ever told you how I met Belle?” He asked, his gaze soft.

She blinked, “Uh, no?”

“Broke into her shop,” he said proudly, the other side of his mouth ticking up into a boyish smile.

“You broke into her shop?” She asked slowly, not quite believing him.

“I was quite pissed at the time.  That’d be drunk to you, you bloody yank,” he teased and she rolled her eyes, “Had the bright idea that a certain book was all I needed to set things to right.”

“You broke into her shop,” she repeated, “to steal a book?”

“Never said I was stealin’ anythin’,” he said with mock innocence. “I’m not sure I like what you’re implyin’.”

She huffed, “Fine, you broke into her shop to not steal a book. Did you meet her when she knocked you out before she called the cops?”

“Not exactly.  You know those squishy little settees she’s got round the children’s nook?”

“You mean the beanbags?  Yeah,” she said nodding.

“Well, I tuckered meself out picking the lock, findin’ that bloody book, and drinking far too much whisky.  Decided to take a little nap before movin’ along,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“So you passed out and Belle found you in the morning?” She surmised.

“The cops found me first, not fifteen minutes after I’d set off a silent alarm.  Belle was livin’ above the shop then.  She had no idea anythin’ was amiss until after they’d cuffed me and had her come down so they could explain what’d happened-” he ducked his head at that.  When he continued his voice was fond, “The constables were telling her what I could be charged with and she just kept lookin’ at my sorry ass.  Drunk as all hell and mouthin’ off, as I’m wont to do.  When they finished their little spiel she calmly told them that I was a friend and she’d forgotten that she’d offered me her couch to sleep on.  Mind you, I’d never even stepped foot in her store before that night.

“Well the officers didn’t take too kindly to that.  Blustered and threatened but she never backed down.  I was at least sober enough to go along with her tales, who was I to ruin a perfectly good lie on my behalf?  Finally, they removed the cuffs and took their leave, not without dire warnings and some more threats.  As soon as the door closed behind them Belle invited me up for tea.”

“And you fell in love.  Cute,” Emma tried not to sound bitter but failed completely.

“Nah,” he said with a click of his tongue, “That took a while yet.”

“Okay… so why are you telling me this?”

Will eyed her, “You’re askin’ the wrong question, luv.”

She frowned.  There were a dozen questions she could have asked, least of all why Belle put up with him.  He watched her patiently which only pissed her off.

“I give up,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re obviously trying to tell me something so just spit it out.”

“You should have asked why I thought I needed a book that bad in the first place,” he stated, as though it were obvious.

“Fine then, why?”

“To broaden my horizons, of course,” he said cheekily with a wide grin.  When she glared at him he grew serious, “Books always have the answer, yeah?  Thought I’d find a way to win back my ex in one of them.”

There was only one ex Will could have been talking about and she’d done a number on him.  The poems he’d written about her were terrible but the broken heart he’d suffered and lashing out he did was worse.  She was still surprised he hadn’t ended up in jail from the stories he’d told her over the years.

“Ana.”

He nodded solemnly, “This was about a year after she’d ended things.  I’d already started playing with you lot but I was still hurtin’.  Probably didn’t help that we rehearsed across from her new husband’s office.  Used to see her stoppin’ by to see him every few weeks.  Couldn’t escape her, even if I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly.

“Why didn’t you tell us about what happened with Jones?” He shot back, though not unkindly.  Shrugging he pushed himself forward and set his elbows on his thighs, his hands dangling between his legs, “Self preservation mostly and, yeah, a bit of enjoyin’ the wallowin’.  Then Belle invited me for a cuppa instead of pressin’ charges.  She’d seen my blusterin’ for what it was because she’d had a bit of a rough go of it herself.  A couple of abusive exes will do that to ya.”

She nodded.  Belle hadn’t told her much about her romantic history but what she’d told Emma was enough.

“Anyway we drank the tea, I sobered up, apologized, and that was it.  I went on my way expecting nothing to come of it but another tale to spin for people over a pint-” the soft look returned, “Then a week later I ended up back at the shop.  When it was open of course.  Looked around a bit, chatted with her and then left.  Kept doin’ that a couple times a week for a month or so before I realized I was stoppin’ by every time I’d seen Ana visitin’ her husband.  Stayed away for two weeks after that.  Belle took it all in stride, of course, welcomed me back with another cuppa and a book of poems.”

Emma smiled, knowing exactly when that was.  He’d suddenly stopped writing his own poems and started reading them instead.  She’d noticed that he’d seemed more settled, less angry, and she’d written a song about it.  Will had demanded a writer’s credit as a result.

“That’s when I realized I was fallin’ for her.  Thing was, I had always believed I’d love Ana forever, even if it meant I spend the rest of my days pinin’ after her like a lovesick fool.  Had a real close look at what I was doin’ with my life.  Only stayed away a week that time and asked Belle out to dinner before the door to her shop had closed behind me when I went back.  She said no.”

“She said no?” Emma gasped, having fully expected a cutesy story of their first date to follow.

Will’s smile was enigmatic, “You see while I was having my little crisis of faith Belle was havin’ one of her own.  All she knew about me was I was a terrible thief who played in a band and had an affinity for poetry.  That was enough for any woman to be wary of trusting me and with the number both of her exes did on her she had no trust left to give.  She wanted to say yes but couldn’t bring herself to put everything on the line if there was even the smallest chance of it shattering beneath her.”

She shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to her hands that were perched in her lap.  Unless Ruby or Regina had blabbed no one else knew exactly what had happened with Killian.  All she’d told Will and Tink was that things hadn’t worked out, end of story.  They hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation and she’d thought that was that.  Clearly she was wrong.

“Does Belle know you’re telling me all this really personal information about her?” She asked accusingly, unable to keep herself from lashing out before he prodded a really vulnerable spot.

“Like I said, luv, she noticed there was somethin’ off with you-” he pointed a finger at her, “and before you go accusin’ me of blabbin’ about you to her I haven’t said a word.  I can be a wanker but I do know how to respect a person’s privacy.”

“Why didn’t she say something?”

He sighed, “You two are friendly but you’re not exactly the sharin’ type are ya?  She didn’t feel it was her place to butt into your life.”

“Oh, but it’s yours?” She asked harshly.

“We’re a horse of a different color, you and I,” he said with a conspiratorial air, “Seein’ as our love of music unites us.”

She smacked him in the arm and he gave her a wink in return.  He wasn’t wrong.  When they first met they got along like oil and water but she’d needed a drummer and he genuinely liked her songs.  It had taken a slew of dive bars and a cramped van to tolerate each other and a little over a year before he was one of the few people she considered a tried and true friend.

“She could have talked to me,” she said petulantly.

“And she still might if this-” he waved his hand between them, “here doesn’t take.  But I haven’t finished my story yet.”

“Sorry,” she said, feeling anything but, “continue.”

“Where was I?” He asked cheekily, chuckling at her glare. “Right, I’d decided to woo Belle and she’d wisely decided to protect her heart.  Let me down gently, of course, my Belle.

“I was a bit disappointed but I also knew why she’d said no.  Stopped goin’ round the shop, thought it’d be best to take a step back.  She didn’t need me hangin’ around makin’ things awkward.  Surprised the hell out of me when a month later she showed up at one of our gigs and asked me to dinner as soon as the set was done.  She said that no one had actually listened to her or respected her decisions before, especially her exes, and that even if she didn’t know much about me she was willin’ to give me a chance.  Celebrated three years back in March.”

“I know, you posted it all over Instagram,” she said with only a hint of the frustration she was feeling, “Is that it?”

“Almost,” he said with a chuckle, “Long story short-”

“Too late,” she muttered.

“Belle knew somethin’ was off with you ‘cause she’s been there before and she wanted me to tell you ‘cause she thought I could get you to see what’s in front of your face-” he said with a touch of impatience. “If you broke things off with Jones because he was bloody awful or your personalities didn’t mesh or whatever that’s one thing.  If you did it because you’re scared then that’s somethin’ else.  Okay, now I’m done.”

Emma sat, stunned, as Will stood up and stretched.  He gave the few crew members still clearing the stage a genial wave before offering her his hand.  With a scowl and some reluctance she grabbed it and let him haul her up beside him.  She gave him a wary look, girding herself against more pointed jabs at her emotional expense, but he just spun on his heel and started walking off stage.

“That’s it?!” She called after him, a bit disgruntled.

“I said my piece, luv,” he parried back without turning around. “Besides I’ve my lady love waitin’ for me back at the hotel.  She’s a rare one but I don’t think she’d be too forgivin’ if I spent the whole night with another woman.  Even if it’s you.”

She rushed after him, “You’re not going to try to convince me to call him or… or tell me about how much of a great guy he is or something?”

“I ain’t gonna tell you what to do, luv.  You’re the one that has to decide if you want to keep bein’ miserable or not-” he pulled his phone from his pocket, “I’m orderin’ a Lyft, you wanna ride with?”

“I’ve got a car waiting,” she said absently, still trying to figure out his game.

“Excellent, you got anythin’ you need to grab?” He asked without looking up, tapping away at his phone, “I can wait.”

“No, Ruby grabbed it all for me-” she grabbed his elbow and swung him around to face her, “You’re really not going to say anything else?”

He sighed, “You’ll do what you want and if you actually listened to what I’ve told you then you know there’s nothin’ else I could say.  Now, do you want to stay here until we’re kicked out?”

She looked back across the stage but the magic of the moment was gone.  Now it was just a big empty space with the last of the equipment being rolled out through the wings by the sweaty road crew.

“Fine, let’s go.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet.  Will had clearly said everything he’d wanted to, spending the whole ride furiously texting someone.  For her part she was too pissed off at him while trying desperately not to think too much about what little lesson he’d been trying to get her to understand to say anything remotely close to nice.  When they reached the hotel he stopped her from leaving the car with a hand on her arm.

“One last thing-”

“Really?!” She snapped. “I just want to go up to my room, drink the champagne that I know the label sent, and not think about the emotional vomit you dropped in my lap tonight.”

“It needed to be said,” he stated without a hint of remorse.  Then he squeezed her arm gently and sighed, “Look, I’m gonna send you somethin’ and you need to promise me you’ll look at that first.”

“First?” She asked warily, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.  She’d never taken it off silent and saw that there were way more texts and calls than she’d expected to be there, “What is it?”

“Nothin’ too terrible,” he hedged.

His gaze darted over her shoulder.  When she looked she saw a few paparazzi waiting by flanking the front doors of the hotel.  She turned back to him and saw his jaw ticking.

“Will-”

He ignored her and leaned towards the driver, “Hey, mate, mind pullin’ round the back so we don’t get ambushed?”

“Of course, sir,” the driver said with a nod, immediately pulling away from the curb.

“Will,” she put every ounce of frustration she could into his name.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said absently, back to tapping madly on his phone, “And you know what, don’t look at it until you’re in your room.  Can you do that?”

Just as she was about to grab the hand that was on her arm and twist it until bones cracked the car stopped again.  Looking outside she saw they were at some kind of loading dock and one of the doors was propped open.

“Brilliant,” Will said happily.  He let go of her and fished in his pocket, pulling out a couple of bills that he handed to the driver, “Cheers, mate!”

“Thank you, sir,” the driver said with a nod.  He caught her gaze in the rear view mirror, “Ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.  Will was already out of the car and she scrambled out after him, “Wait, you can’t be all cryptic and then just leave me like that.  What the hell is going on?”

“I know you want to punch me in the face-” he squinted his eyes at her, “Nope, you’re ready to murder me on the spot.  Just trust me, luv.  Besides, it wouldn’t do to make a scene out here and bring ‘round those vultures we made a point of avoiding.”

“Fine,” she huffed, pushing past him. “But you’re so on my shit list right now.”

“I’m always on it, luv,” he said with a laugh.

The hotel was five star but the door that had been left open led to a not so pretty hallway.  She’d worked plenty of shitty jobs to know what a service corridor looked like.  There were several stacks of empty milk crates and egg cages lining the walls and from the delicious smells wafting towards her it wasn’t hard to figure out that they were near the kitchens.  She turned back and gave Will an unimpressed look.

“It was this or the paps,” he said unapologetically.  He pointed ahead of them, “That way and then the second right will get you to the lobby.”

“And where are you going?” She asked suspiciously.

“Got a mate that’s holdin’ a bottle of champagne for me that way-” he hitched his thumb to the left. “I’ll let him know you said thanks for sneakin’ you past those vultures.”

He strolled past her, with his hands in his pockets, whistling the damn Backstreet Boys song he’d been singing earlier.  She was torn between wanting to strangle him or begrudgingly thank him.  In the end she settled for glaring at his back and muttering obscenities until he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight.

Twenty minutes later she was finally holed up in her room, freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes with the bottle of champagne in her hand.  All should have been well except for the litany of messages she had.  Will’s wasn’t the most recent and she would have ignored it if he hadn’t said anything but she had a feeling that whatever he had sent her was the reason behind all the other texts and calls.  Her thumb hovered over his message, calculating how much it was going to ruin her night if she ignored it, before she scoffed at herself and tapped on it.

Scarlet: whatever you do don’t kill the messenger ie me

There was a second message, which was a link to YouTube.  She hesitated again, even more so with his ominous message.  When she tapped on the link she felt a momentary flash of panic, nearly closing out the app, because she knew without a doubt that watching the video was going to destroy any semblance of finishing off the night on a high note.

Her panic quickly turned into longing and heartbreak at the sight of Killian on her phone screen.  He was sitting with his guitar in a room she’d never seen before but knew without a doubt was from his place in Boston.  If pressed she wouldn’t have been able to explain how she knew but from the small bits of decor she could make out in the background and his sense of ease in the space were big clues.  Her attention was drawn back to him as he cleared his throat and addressed the camera.

“Er, hello all,” he began sheepishly, his fingers nervously scratching behind his ear as the tips of his ears turned pink.  His hair was in disarray and there were slight shadows under his eyes but he looked good, she would have even said great if there had been anyone around to ask her.  He gave a rueful smile, “I’ve never done one of these, honestly never thought I would seeing as I seemed to have missed the metaphorical boat with this whole video blogging thing-”

Emma snorted in amusement despite herself and muttered, “It’s like he’s three hundred not thirty-three.”

“Aye, I may be belying my age but as you can see I’ve retained my youthful glow,” he said with a cheeky grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

The quip seemed to bolster him, the tension in his shoulders disappeared and he seemed to breathe easier, but it only lasted for a moment.  His smile faded and he dropped his chin, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath.  When he looked back to the camera the look in his eyes made her own breath catch in her throat.

“As many of my fans-” he paused and then gave a mirthless laugh, shaking his head, “Well, let’s be honest, a lot more than just my fans know my story.  My exploits, my tragedies, missteps and extended stays in rehab are just cannon fodder for the gossip mongers that dwell on the internet.  All of that led to my taking a much needed step back from the spotlight that’s lasted a good while.  In that time I’ve continued to play, the creative soul in me would never stand for me not to, but I never thought I’d put pen to paper with the intention of writing a song ever again.

“The accident, yes that fucking accident, took more from me than just my brother and my love that night.  It took the part of me that knew the right words to tease the desired emotion from an audience, how to hook them with a few notes and reel them in with lyrics that sprung from my heart and soul.  Without that-” his voice cracked and he paused again, closing his eyes.  After a few deep breaths he opened them, looking straight into the camera, his pain bare to see, “Without that it’s a wonder I didn’t drink myself to death within six months.”

Her phone screen went blurry and it wasn’t until a drop of water fell onto her hand that she realized she was crying.  Impatiently brushing away the tears she focused back on the video.

He had begun idly picking at the strings of the guitar, “Getting sober was the first step to getting my life back.  One of many.  It’s been a hard road and every day is a struggle in one way or another but it’s a battle I’m willing to fight.  My life, quite literally, depends on it.  Next was getting serious about playing music again.  I’ve spent the past few years not doing much more than recording backing tracks for what seems like every artist under the sun.  I was in a rut and my agent convinced me that it was a sign that it was time to return to the recording booth.  This time as the headliner, as it were.  With no true argument against it I agreed, thinking that if anything I would enjoy a middling solo career out of it.  What I hadn’t counted on was it leading to something that would turn my middling life upside down in the most unexpected of ways.

“You see, I had thought that I would be hoisted off on a producer and bundled to a cabin to write as many songs as possible before being shepherded back to a recording booth.  Handled but not inspired.  Before that could happen, though, another much more appealing opportunity presented itself..  A friend called needing a favor.  One that my agent and the label approved of, though I would have done it regardless”

His finger picking continued as a wistful smile played at his lips.  She couldn’t figure out what he was playing.  It seemed somewhat familiar but his playing was too slow for her to catch the tune.

“In doing this favor I met someone-” he focused on the camera and gave a slight shake of his head, “You know, I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... until I met her.”

Emma nearly dropped her phone in shock.

“For the first time since I thought I’d lost everything I felt like there was a possibility for me to find it all again.  I found myself wanting- no, needing, to write again.  I think I filled the first notebook within a week.  She inspired me in a way I hadn’t been before.  Then, I was privileged enough to become a part of her life.

“Unfortunately even before we met I had decided that there was no need to share with her what was to be a fairly big change in my life.  I figured, why tell her about making a return to music when I hadn’t truly wanted it to happen in the first place?” he scoffed.  He stopped playing, clenching his hand into a fist, “It was a selfish decision on my part, wanting to bask in the simplicity of what we had for as long as possible before I had to give myself over to the machinations of creating an album.  What I failed so spectacularly at was considering her feelings, her expectations and hopes as to what we could be.  By omitting that truth from the beginning and trying to shield her from it, even believing that I was doing the honorable thing, hurt her far more than telling her from the start.”

She could see the frustration and self loathing in his gaze.  It made her want to soothe him and shake him at the same time.

He blinked, seemingly remembering that he was being filmed and gave a brittle smile to the camera, “It should come as no surprise that it all came ‘round to bite me in the arse.  I’ll admit that I spent a good amount of time as the living embodiment of a Morrisey album.  Listened to a few of them ad nauseum to boot.  It took a good friend knocking some sense into me and a few words of advice Liam had given me long ago: ‘A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets’.

“I deserve every second of her silence, every ounce of her anger, and I will respect her decision regarding us, whatever it may be, but I have one final plea to make.  She may never see this, the bloody idiot that told me to do this will also be editing this and might cut this all out, but I’ve laid myself bare so that she perhaps might come to understand why I’d done the things that hurt her so.

“Sw-” he cut himself off, looking down as his jaw ticked in frustration before he took a breath and looked back to the camera, his gaze sincere and open, “Love, I’m sorry for lying to you.  I’m sorry for making you feel used and unimportant and as though you were dupe in a scheme designed to benefit everyone but yourself.  It was never my intention to make you feel that way but my actions and my lies did so all the same.  I’m sorry, love, for everything.”

Her tears were falling freely but she made no move to brush them away.  They were too quick and numerous for her to bother.  In the video Killian had started playing his guitar again, his fingers plucking out the notes of a tune she still couldn’t place but that he seemed to know very well.

“I wrote this after an eye opening night in Chicago.  This is my truth, love, it was then and it is now.”

With that he began to play in earnest.  She could hear echoes of the songs he’d written with Milah and Liam, a distinctive style that even the chasm of a decade couldn’t erase.  There was something more to it though, a longing in his voice she’d never heard before but it was far from melancholic, she could almost feel a wellspring of hope bubbling within it.  Then she actually listened to the lyrics he was singing.

And all of the steps that led me to you

And all of the hell I had to walk through

But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say

My love, I'm in love with you

The phone tumbled from Emma’s suddenly numb fingers.  The video kept playing but the audio was muffled in the folds of her robe.  Scrambling to pick it back up and muttering curses while desperately trying to hear the rest of the song she fumbled with the phone for what felt like minutes before it was back in her hand and facing the right way.  With a shaking finger she scrolled back until the point where he started to play and began watching again.  When he played the final note she scrolled back and watched it again.  After the fourth time she let the video keep playing, though she could barely focus on it through the sobs she was holding back.

Killian gave the camera a pained smile, his hands folded over his guitar.  He seemed on the verge of saying something and she held her breath.  Instead he shook his head and leaned forward, reaching towards the camera.  The video ended there, an emotionless black screen with links to a few of the more popular music videos that Realm of Jewels had made.  Emma sat staring at the thumbnails in a stupor, her mind whirring with too many thoughts to even begin to process what she was feeling.  It was only when her screen went dark from inactivity that she made a decision.  Unlocking her phone she brought up her contacts and tapped on the name of the person she’d been avoiding talking to for days.  They picked up on the second ring.

“I know it’s late but I need a favor.”