#you can tell its the holidays though because some listings that have sat all year (she-ra + bow for 72$) are finally selling

[n7punk]

buddy if you add up the recent sale prices for all of these things individually NIB it's like 37 + 38 + 120 + 39 + 36 and that does not come out even close to 406$. congratulations you scammed yourself

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[twinklelilstarkey]

“Please don’t go” with Freddie Andersen 🥺

"Please don't go" - Frederik Andersen

Words: 3.6k+

Type: ANGST

Warnings: A lot of crying from both Y/N and Freddie. Break up. Mentions of long distance relationships.

It was a tough decision to end your relationship with Freddie.

You two had dated for a few months, after being extremely good friends for years. The whole relationship was a quite sudden decision, but right as it started, it felt so right that you felt stupid for not admitting your feelings sooner.

You feel like it’s fair to say that everything, absolutely everything, was just pure perfection when you were together. And that is why what you two shared will always be kept in your hearts:

All the smiles, all the laughter, all the hugs, all the kisses. The way one would always support the other on whatever decision. Or the way you two believed in one another, no matter what. 

There was just nothing bad about it. There were no arguments. If anything there was just disagreements, which if they did escalate, you two would fix it or just calm down in the same breath. 

Ending it, even though expected, was as painful as anything can possibly be. Both of you cried, constantly itching to comfort one other, feeling as helpless like never before.

You two sat opposites on your couch. Freddie looked at the ground, elbows over his knees as he listened to you, and you stared at a wall to contain your tears. Yet as soon as the first one escaped, you were done for.

Sobs in the middle of sentences, almost as if your heart was pleading your brain to stop you from putting an end to it. To what made you happy. 

An imaginary weight, which would always be lifted off when together, had now set over the two of you again. As well as the cold of familiar loneliness, and the horrible pain of heartbreak.

But it was for the best... right?

You got a huge offer for your job, some kind of promotion, which consisted of you moving to America.

It has been so many years since you started calling the Toronto streets your home, that you just know that this change will be unfamiliar and hard, yet the outcome always seems worth it. 

In your eyes, there’s absolutely no way for you to refuse it.

But for you to have it, you have to lose a lot too since work never makes it easy for anyone to take days off. Especially if those few days are to be in another country. Canada, in your case.

And sure, you had holidays and a week or two offered to you as some sort of vacation in a whole year of work. But not enough for you to try and leave everything behind you intact and act as if it will stay like that while you're away.

Whether you like it or not, strong friendships will become weak, the constant communication with your family will not even seem like half of what it used to be, and when it comes to relationships, trust will be tested. And god, even if you trust someone with your life, nothing can stop your brain from thinking of all awful possibilities. As well as your heart from hurting due to missing them so much.

Long-distance relationships are painful and you do not want to go through them. You would prefer to let the love of your life live his life with someone else, then let them wait for you for only God knows how much time.

That decision is the opposite way of looking at life selfishly. You prefer to go through an immense amount of pain if that means that the ones you love will be happy. Something Freddie always loved about you and sometimes would bring it up in conversations.

He also wouldn't let you refuse such an offer and you know it. The opportunity of you going after your dream was more important to him than anything, because it is your dream. He just didn't really know what would come with it.

He didn't know how much he would cry, how much he wouldn't want to open his eyes in the morning to see an empty bed, how much he would come to hate the silence in his home, or the absence of your perfume in his hoodies. It was a whole list of horrible things that he feels while following the same routine as before, yet all it gives him is pain. 

While you were packing your whole apartment to move far away, fighting off tears, Freddie had to work.

In morning skates, he would find himself skipping almost half his playlist when stretching because everything would remind him of you. He wouldn't look up at the clock in anticipation to go home. Or even be quick with getting off the ice when the last minute of work ends.

Sometimes he would sit on the bench for so long that the lights would eventually turn off around the arena. But he would just sit there. Head hung low with his eyes either closed or staring at nothing in front of him, letting his head run free.

Those weeks were rough. If rough could even come to describe half of what you two felt.

Today is your last day. The day to get on an airplane and not be sure when you're going to step foot into Canadian soil before Christmas. Or even see your loved ones before that too.

Your family and your friends have texted you a lot this morning, letting you know that they'll meet you at the airport. As well as asking how excited you feel.

You truly aren't even slightly excited to leave. All you feel is regret. And it's heavy and painfully stabbing its way into your back while closing its fists around your heart.

Why didn't you start dating way before all of this? Maybe that would've worked out in a way. You two could've argued and hated each other for what you've swarmed it could be forever. 

Or why did you have to meet him at all? Why didn't you ignore him like every other guy that talked to you on that specific bar? It would've made your friendship impossible and he would be nothing but a goalie you would see on the TV.

Getting up from bed today was just as bad to you as it was for Freddie. You two both dragged your feet into your separate bathrooms and undressed, pulling yourselves under the water of the shower. The water would soak you but neither of you moved to actually start doing anything else, you just stood there for a minute.

And with that, a loud sob jumped out of your mouth and you're back into your circle. Back to doing the same things with the same make-up-less face, your eyes swollen from tears and gaze fixed in nothing but the tiles of your floor.

Freddie didn't sob, but he isn't sure if he didn't cry either. If tears fell they left with the water falling from on top of him. The water that is trying to embrace him back to comfort, but failing miserably.

You throw the rest of your things inside your last bag and close the zipper slowly. Your gaze lifts up to the mirror of your bathroom and the reflected image breaks you as reality sets in.

You have to leave.

Walking around the apartment to check on everything was difficult as you continue to battle your emotions and throw all the memories to the back of your mind.

After that, you leave the key on the place you had previously planned with your landlord, and off you went into your Uber to the airport with your last belongings in your bags. Ready to leave home.

The driver was nice. He made small talk about where you were going and how he had gone there with his family last summer. He also must have sensed your uneasiness, so he decided highlight how nice the locals were and how everyone would always be ready to help you.

It relaxed you in a way, but not entirely as that wasn't even what was on your mind in the first place.

On the other hand, Freddie's late. Stuck in traffic to be more precise. His leg bounces with stress as he hides his face under his hat and hood of his shirt. All he could think of is how he won't get there in time.

His driver is silent, bobbing his head to the soft music playing on the radio while he stares at all the cars in front of them.

When taking a quick peek at the lines of cars in front of him, Freddie's starting to lose hope, no matter how hard he tries to be more optimistic.

He unlocks his phone as his fingers itch to text you, but he freezes at the picture of his home screen. He still doesn't have to heart to change anything he had with you, not even his god damn home screen.

A picture just a few weeks old, before you even had told him about the job offer. You were smiling at him behind the camera while holding a puppy up to your chest, eyes bright and wide with excitement. And your smile... just as breathtaking as heart-wrenching.

Freddie blinks harshly at the painful happy memory and looks ahead of him as the car moves ever so slightly. He has to at least say bye to you.

"You're going to love it, I know it!" Your mom says excitingly.

She squeezes you into another hug and you close your eyes at the feeling of her squeeze. Your hands are shaking for some unknown reason so you hesitate before wrapping your arms around her as well.

"You'll meet so many new people and learn so much new stuff."

She's starting to sound more excited than you at this point, yet you don't do anything but a short nod against her shoulder.

When you pull away, you look down at your phone, expecting to see any sort of notification... but there's nothing.

"Hey, I want a hug too." Your friend says over everyone's voices as she elbows her way to you.

You offer her a broken grin and she sadly smiles at you, throwing herself and her arms around you. 

Freddie almost rips the door open as the Uber parks right in front of the airport's main doors, not even realizing that he hasn’t acknowledged the driver verbally ever since he got inside the vehicle. 

His feet feel heavy and his legs tired, even though they have no reason to feel that way, yet he drags them into the building.

He walks fast-paced through the airport, looking through every group of people. His eyes scanning every single backpack, shirt, head of hair, beanie. Everything to find you.

You unwrap your arms from around another one of your friends and she smiles at you while cupping your face in her hands.

"If you ever need anything, I'll be on the first plane to you." She tells you and you grin at her.

"Promise?" You ask.

"I promise."

She kisses your nose and that's able to make your scowl break onto a smile, making everyone around you feel a sudden weight being lifted off the air around them, relief.

You adjust your backpack on your shoulder as you look around the group to see if you've hugged everyone and it sure seems like it. Your heart tightens in your chest and you take a deep breath.

"Are you ready to go?" Your mom asks you, laying her hand over your shoulder.

"I think so." You tell her.

She gives you a light squeeze in comfort and looks over behind her to see the line where you need to do your check-in.

"Well, I believe you just need to go over there," She starts, looking back at you, "and get your-"

She stops talking out of nowhere and you lift your gaze from your bag at her. She’s staring at something behind you.

Your heart quickens and at the sudden bit of hope runs through you. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet Freddie walking towards you.

He's wearing grey sweatpants, a black hoodie, a hat over his head, and the hood of his shirt over it. If it wasn't for all the light coming from the large windows beside you, you wouldn't have noticed his reddened eyes and the broken look he's giving you.

Without any sort of hesitation, you take the backpack from your shoulder and lay it on the ground, taking steps towards him.

Freddie meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you as yours move up to wrap around his neck and cling onto him. He holds you by your waist securely and lifts you in the air to hold you as close to him as possible.

A soft sob you’ve been holding in falls from your lips, sounding slightly muffled by his clothes, and you lay your head over his shoulder. Freddie closes his eyes to stop his tears from coming up again, snuggling his face close to you.

Your family and friends, when seeing and noticing you two, let sad smiles appear on their faces and decide to step aside, giving you two some space and privacy.

"I ran the whole airport to find you." He says, some humor deep in his tone.

A small smile lifts over your face as you cry your eyes out again, more out of relief than anything else.

One of his vacant hands lays on the back of your head, almost as it holding steady and his thumb caresses the nape of your neck, softly and carefully.

"I thought you weren't coming."

You pull your face away from his shoulder and take a look at him, locking gazes with him. Your hands rest over his shoulders and Freddie looks back just as directly.

"I got stuck in traffic." He explains.

Your hands come up to his bearded cheeks, a small pout influencing your forced smile, and your thumbs caress his skin.

His hand also rises up and he quickly wipes the tears off your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, come on.” He tries to tell you in a whisper over the sound of everyone’s loud voices around the airport.

“Sorry.” You tell him almost automatically, voice slightly cracking.

“No, don’t be sorry.” He corrects you. “I just don’t want to see you sad.”

You sniffle, your hands still over his cheeks, and give him a little nod, almost as your way to acknowledge his words since you’re not really trusting your voice right now.

Freddie kisses your palm and you lift your hands to wrap your arms around his neck again. He holds you as well and tries to swallow the ball of emotions at the back of his throat as your body shakes as you let out another overpowering small wave of silent sobs.

His eyes water ever so slightly and he blinks the tears away. 

“Do you feel ready to go?” He asks against the fabric of your hoodie, leaning his head closer against you.

“No.” You tell him.

Freddie swears his whole body reacted to your words. Maybe it was because you said it so close to his ear and that was the reason why he felt all those chills, but in a way, he knows it’s more than that.

He gives you more squeeze and your heart aches over what it could possibly mean. His hand rests over your leg and he leans forward to motion you to get back on the ground.

You do as requested but your body almost acts as if in denial when you order it to let go of him.

Freddie’s hands lay loosely by your waist, while your arms still hug his neck close to you, making him have to lean down over you.

“You still want to go, right?” He asks.

He doesn’t even know if he’s just checking on you or if he’s just hoping for an answer that would mean that you could go back home with him, but either way, he awaits it.

“I think so.” You try to say, but your voice falls in a whisper.

He forces your arms a bit away from him and you lift your head from his shoulder, sending him a look so broken that Freddie swears it broke his heart even further. He stares back into your eyes silently and observes your expression.

Without thinking twice, you close the small space between you two and lay your lips against his.

The sweet kiss is more than welcomed by Freddie, who can’t help but feel the small bit of hope course through his veins. The relief he felt over feeling you just hugging him again was able to destroy so many doubts in his head, and now that you’re kissing him, it’s like he’s falling in love all over again.

His hand rests in the back of your head, not letting you pull away just yet from the kiss he has been thinking about and needing for the past few weeks.

When you do pull away, you two just feel reality wash over you like a ice cold bucket of water. It’s heartbreaking to the point of you to want to gasp for air. 

You feel horrible.

Freddie looks back into your eyes as he pulls away further and he feels his eyes well up in tears again. And this time, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Why do you have to go?

Your hands lay over his shoulders even when he stands upright and his hand continues rested over your head, against your hair, feeling it under his fingers.

He breaks his gaze from your eyes to check the time on the screen a few meters behind you. You follow his gaze, hands now sliding and resting over his chest, and your heart skips a beat at how the time flew since you had gotten there.

You don’t have much time left.

Your eyes go back to Freddie and he looks absolutely broken. And that is not making anything feel any easier for you.

“I love you.” You decide to tell him, “So much.”

He looks down at you and brings his hands back to your cheeks, holding your face.

“I love you too.” He answers.

His voice is so much lower and so much weaker than you’ve ever heard it before, it feels like a nightmare. 

It feels so unreal and so scary that it seems like something only the back of your mind can create to terrify you.

You grip onto his shirt and pull him down to you again, ignoring how the tears are starting to come up your eyes once more. He does as you request him to and this time doesn’t even even think twice before kissing you.

Your lips press against his as he lays various small pecks onto them while holding your wet cheeks in his larger hands.

“Please don’t go.” You hear him plead after a kiss.

You reopen your eyes and stare back at his. A tear has been able to escape his eyes and you’re quick to wipe it with the end of your sleeves.

“I need to go, Freddie.” You tell him, fighting off a sob. “I already signed everything.”

Frederik lays his forehead against yours and looks back onto you.

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

No.

You shake your head at him as a sob escapes your lips again and he fights off your denial with a nod.

“I will. I’ll wait for that contract to end, or I’ll retire early, I don’t care.” He tells you, feeling some more tears wet his face again, “We’ll be together again. I’ll visit you as many times as I can. I promise.”

You wipe his tears and quickly lean back to just pull him into another hug.

You cling onto his shirt, feeling more powerless than anything. 

The pain you’re feeling due to leaving is so strong that you almost don’t feel like yourself. Your body is shaking, you feel light headed, your chest is aching as your heart beats just as fast as your mind runs through all your options. 

You didn’t want it to be like this. For you to feel so sad and in so much pain. 

Freddie holds you back before you pull back, squeezing you close to him.

“Honey, it’s time to go.”

Your mom’s voice.

You quickly wipe your tears and lift your head from Freddie’s shoulder. He lets you go and a sudden rush of cold fills your body. The lack of his warmth is almost able to freeze you.

After that and a harsh and hard swallow of all your emotions, you pull your parents and friends into another set of hugs. Rushing back to Freddie for a last hug.

His hand is over your back, moving up and down to try and comfort you. You lay your wet cheek over his shirt, not caring if you wet it. And as soon as you look at him, your chin over his chest, he kisses your cheek.

A last squeeze later and you step back, offering everyone a small smile. Freddie grabs your backpack from the ground and gives it over to you. You take it silently and look up at everyone once more.

A small broken whisper moves past your lips as a small ‘bye’ to everyone that is looking at you and you soon turn on your heels, and... leave.

You don’t look back. Scared that if you do, you’re not able to keep going. And with that, Freddie stays back, standing right next to your family and friends.

Your mom has her hand over his back, comforting him just like he just did to you, in silence. And as soon as you’re out of the view from everyone’s eyes, she doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug.

“You’ll be together again. I’m sure of it.” She reassures him.

I hate this, but it can’t stay on my drafts for longer than it already has. Hope you like it...?

[mctherofdragons]

In the Afterglow | 2 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy​.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: Angst, cussing, mild sexual content, mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, nudity

Author’s Note: Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list! 

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey  @michaylahpfan27  @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

November 10.

Fall had fully arrived in London, decorating the ground with crunchy orange and red leaves. You pulled a sweater out of your closet and pulled it on. Molly had knit it for you last Christmas. It was maroon with little flecks of grey throughout. Something about it being homemade made you love it more. Being wed into the Weasleys offered you a family you hadn’t had before. One that gave gifts and hugged on holidays; one that shared laughter and drinks far into the night on Christmas Eve; one that cared for you deeply and unconditionally. Your heart jumped a bit when you felt two arms around your waist suddenly.

“Hi honey,” George said, turning to kiss your lips. You kissed back, placing your hand on the back of his neck. A giggle escaped your lips as you moved your hands down to the cool touch of his trouser buttons. The autumn weather had made you more affectionate, seeking warmth in your husband’s arms.

“I have about an hour until I really have to leave. Dinner’s on in the slow cooker, so...I don’t have anything to occupy me for a while…”

But, as was typical lately, George didn’t fulfill your requests.

“I have to go get to the shop,” he pouted. You sighed with an honest attempt to hide your annoyance. When you and George had first married, intimacy was far more...exciting. He would steal you away into the back storage room of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, hoping Fred didn’t come wandering back. You lived in back-arching, toe-curling ecstasy for your first year of marriage. But now, when you actually got around to having sex, it had lost its thrill. George didn’t show or tell you much lately how much he loved you. It hurt, but you were too afraid to let him know that.

You didn’t really have anything to say that wouldn’t have been slightly cruel, so you huffed off to the bathroom to finish your makeup. George followed, leaning against the door frame. “I’m sorry,” he sounded genuine. “But I mean, I have to go to work, honey.”

“I know,” you said, leaning forward to apply mascara to your eyes. He came over and gave you a kiss behind your ear, which only made you grow more frustrated with his lack of fulfilling what you wanted.

“Yup,” you said, moving away from him. The sound of your heels clicking on the tile as you head into the kitchen somehow annoyed George beyond belief.

“You really are being a bit of a bitch about this,” he huffed. His words stung. George was never one for name-calling, and just the sound of the cuss word rolling off his tongue cut you to the quick.

George had grown used to you, you reasoned. He no longer needed to ‘woo’ you because the shiny diamond on your finger had ensured you were his for good.

“Don’t start,” you warned. You busied yourself with filling your travel mug with coffee. The sound of George’s sighing made you look up. He was fastening the buttons of his jacket. For some reason, you felt like crying but pushed your tears back.

“Can we chat about this later?”

You nodded, handing him a paper bag with his lunch in it. He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and left.

You sighed, pulling your phone out of your pocket. Mindlessly, you scrolled to your recent texts and found Fred’s name. You took a type breath as you typed, feeling your heart murmur as you typed.

Thinking of you, Freddie.

But you quickly erased the text, forbidding yourself to continue the thoughts you had started to entertain.

——————-

Later that evening, you stood in the back room of the shop, placing some things onto a storage shelf. It was typical that when you were done with work, you’d head over to Weasley Wizard Wheezes and give the boys a hand. Fred was sitting at a nearby computer, sending an email to one of the suppliers they frequently worked with. He had noticed you and George hadn’t said a single word to one another all night.

“Hey, y/n?”

You heard Fred begin to speak, so you turned to your head, walking over the computer.

“You seem down, is everything alright?”

This was the way of things between you and Fred. He knew you like the lyrics of his favorite song. If the tune was even a little bit off, he could sense it. There were times throughout your time of knowing him that he had used this to comfort you before you could even admit to your own hurt. Often, it so happened, this would be when you and George would get into a fight.

You felt the tears you had pushed down earlier begin to make their way up to the surface again.

“Oh, yeah, Fred, I’m okay.”

You felt Fred place his warm hand on top of yours. His palms and fingers were calloused from years of beating bludgers. The feeling of his touch felt different than ever before. You could sense somewhere deep in your bones that your feelings for Fred were changing as quickly and surely as the autumn leaves. He stroked his thumb over yours, looking up at you, his affectionate chocolate-colored eyes shining behind his long lashes.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I’m fine, Fred,” you moved away quickly, going back to stacking boxes of Whiz Bangs.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

November 29th.

“Happy birthday, Bill!”

Arthur placed a large cake down in the center of the dining table. Molly had allowed Albus to write in icing ‘Happy Birthday Uncle Billy’, which reminded Harry affectionately of his 11th birthday cake from Hagrid. You were sat between Fred and George, smiling happily as you watched him blow out the candles.

Fleur smiled affectionately as she gave Bill a shy kiss on the cheek. You felt yourself wondering if their marriage had also become listless. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe you should talk about how you’d been feeling with Fleur and Hermione, but, you felt a sense of shame. A sense of failure had started to enter your mind - maybe you just weren’t attractive to George anymore. A sense of sadness filled your heart again, so you pushed it away, reaching to George’s hand. He barely held it back. You could feel your knee touching Fred’s, which forced you to take continuous sips of the pumpkin juice in front of you.

Once everyone had finished eating, you chose to clean up so that everyone could continue talking. The truth was, you felt an aching sadness in your chest and needed some time alone. You turned on this sink in the kitchen, smiling at the coziness of Molly’s little kitchen. You allowed the sink to fill with whatever, humming to yourself as you scrubbed. You found your head bopping back and forth as you hummed the Triwizard Tournament theme.

You looked up when Fred appeared next to you, reaching into the water to help you.

“I got it,” you said quietly. Something about his mere presence made you want to scream.

“Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the dishes, but something about his tone and the huskiness behind his words made you think he definitely was not.

Your hands met beneath the water, Fred’s fingers dancing against yours. You moved to give his hand a squeeze, looking knowingly into his eyes.

“Y/n, I…”

Suddenly, you heard Ginny’s voice behind you. “You two need help?” She asked sweetly, grabbing a hand towel to do the drying. You yanked your hands out of the sudsy water with a splash.

“Absolutely, thanks, Gin,” you replied, letting yourself glance over at Fred who was clearly struggling to calm his breathing.

_________________________

The shower at the Burrow was notoriously hard to operate. But nonetheless, you were finally able to find the right temperature. You stood beneath the hot water, letting it run over you. You sighed contently. The heat had allowed some of the stress to melt away. You worked the shampoo into your hair, closing your eyes as you rinsed away a day’s worth of troubles. After you felt clean, you slid the curtain open, flipping over to wrap your hair in a towel. The room had become foggy from the heat, which you noted as you headed over to the mirror to wash your face.

Just then, the door opened. You jumped, nearly screaming at the sight of Fred in the doorway. He shut the door behind him. There was no way he hadn’t seen pretty much everything you had to offer. You couldn’t find a word to utter as he looked your bare body up and down.

Your breath felt strangled as he walked forward, moving so you were flush against the wall. In your chest, your heartbeat had gone wild. You had never felt like this in your life - not even the first time you finally made love to George.

Fred reached over and handed you the towel off a nearby shelf.

“Make sure you lock the door next time, pet,” he said, watching as you shakily wrapped it around you.

“Get out of here, Fred,” you feigned outrage, even though you didn’t mind him being there one bit.

He laughed, using his thumb to wipe smeared mascara from beneath your eye. It had run while you showered.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Fred-”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay-”

But Fred had turned to leave, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell George?”

“Pinky promise.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 24.

You all sat around the fire, warmed from the inside out by stories of the Weasley boys as children, and spiked eggnog. You sat between George’s legs, his arms wrapped lovingly around you. He placed his chin on your shoulder, and you turned to kiss his lips. He tasted like Christmas cookies and nutmeg.

“I’m tired, honey. Are you?”

You shook your head. “No, but go on up. I think I’ll stay up a while longer. Do you think I’ll see Father Christmas?”

George laughed, bopping you on the nose. “Perhaps, but he knows you’ve been a naughty girl.”

Molly gasped, “George Weasley! In front of your own mother!”

The whole room erupted in laughter, watching as your face turned bright red. “Goodnight, George,” you chuckled, giving him one last goodnight hug.

The room slowly continued to clear out. You sat on the floor, sipping more eggnog and flipping through a photo album. You smiled at a sweet picture of Fred and George in matching Christmas sweaters, toothy grins adorning their face as they held up their Christmas presents. On the next page was another picture of the twins in matching onesies, just a few days after they were born. They were always together. They shared everything. You felt a pang of guilt wash over you again. You hadn’t been able to forget about the incident on Bill’s birthday, and what’s more, it had thrilled you.

Eventually, it was just you and Fred in the sitting room. The house had fallen quiet as you listening to the crackling of the fireplace. Fred came to sit next to you, silently watching the fire along with you.

You turned and looked over at him. He still captivated you with his boyish charm. No matter how many times you had looked at him, you never failed to feel some sort of joy deep inside of you. Again, you felt ashamed, because your husband has failed to make you feel this way for a few months now. 

Fred scooted forward, looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You gazed back, hoping that he would find what he was looking for. He was wearing his old, tattered sweater that Molly had made him so many years ago, a big F on the front. It was sweet and nostalgic. It reminded you a Christmas nights at Hogwarts, sharing chocolates and playing pranks in the hallowed hallways. 

“So, what’s been going on? Seriously, y/n, it’s been driving me mad.”

“Well, honestly, things aren’t fantastic with George right now, Fred, s’all there is to say.”

“How do you mean?”

You blushed. “It’s embarrassing,” you admitted, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down around your hands and pulling your knees to your chest.

Fred reached over to tuck a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me, you know that.”

“I just don’t think he finds me beautiful anymore, Fred. He doesn’t touch me like he used to. He...just...I don’t know. I feel like such a normal part of his life. The fireworks have gone. It makes me feel small and ….unbeautiful. I miss feeling wanted. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because...we haven’t started a family yet. Maybe he’s disappointed in that? I don’t know.”

The words came pouring out of your mouth. All at once, you regretted them, staring down at the carpet. You felt bad for talking badly about George, especially to his closest brother. You felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. Sniffling, you used the hem of your sleeves to wipe your eyes. 

“You are so far from unbeautiful, y/n. You’re perfect. George is the luckiest man on this Earth. I...I swear it.”

What Fred didn’t tell you was that the day George had gone through with the proposal, he had locked himself in his bathroom and cried. Full, heavy, fat-teared crying over the fact that his chance with you had been lost forever. Seeing you in white walking down the aisle toward him had taken his breath away, too, until he remembered he was standing next to George as his best man. You were the one that got away, and the hardest part was is that you hadn’t gone anywhere.

He cupped your face in his hands, moving to use his sweater to catch your stray tears. “Do you know how much I hate seeing you sad?”

All at once, your lips were crashing into his. You fell back onto the carpet, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head, propped up by his arms. “Freddie,” you gasped, but before you could say too much, he continued to kiss you.

Your tongues battled for dominance. Fred flicked his tongue across your lip. You felt his hands sliding up under your sweater, grabbing your hips. His hands were colder than you expected, making you jump. Your chest rose and fell, breathing deeply as he pulled away.

“He’s a bloody idiot,” Fred gasped, pressed his forehead to yours. The only sound to be heard in the Burrow sitting room was the shaky breath of you both...and the overwhelming sense that a beautiful secret - like a tapestry -  had just started to be woven together.

[To Be Continued.]

[writing-in-april]

Ghost Story

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Mood board is mine pictures were taken from Pinterest- Message me for credit.

This come from the wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins​ prompt list- go check her out she’s the best!

Warnings: One swear word- and if you’re super scared of ghost stories don’t read.

A/N: I’m really proud of this one! The ghost story is called whispers and I found it on the huffington post, it’s originally about Christmas but I changed it to fit Halloween (Even though it’s August- I’m just really ready for Halloween)

Masterlist

italics are the ghost story

——

“This is a story I do not often tell. I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they remain unsatisfactory.” Spencer’s voice cut through the air in a whisper. The pine green walls of our softly lit apartment gave me a sense of security that Spencer was actively trying to break as he relayed his ghost story.

It was nearly Halloween, the 28th of October to be exact, also known as Spencer’s birthday. Honestly it was the only reason I indulged in his request of reading a scary story, any other day of the year I would have flat out refused. So there I was perched on our leather sofa,  staring a hole into a slice of pumpkin pie that I had made for his special day trying to take my mind off of the story.

“When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night for me to wake up and hear “whispers” as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they were just “bumps in the night” and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people’s voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these “whispers” that I would sleep in my mom’s bed with her.” I now understood why he was so eager to share a ghost story with me tonight, the story paralleled his own journey with his fear of the dark. We both had a shared sentiment of fear surrounding dark corners, but Spencer was far braver than I when it came to the dark, after all he saw the worst of humanity everyday at work.

“I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom’s bedroom was on the second floor). On one such night, around Halloween, I awoke and felt the need to go to the bathroom. I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase “Look!” and to my astonishment, an orange light, almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.” The inflection that he had adopted to tell the story chilled my bones, making me feel as if I was a skeleton in the dead of winter.

The pumpkin pie was no longer enough to stare at so my gaze wandered to the knickknacks that adorned the apartment. The spotlight in the story eerily mirrored the decorations we had strung up, the string of pumpkin lights basked us in an orange glow aiding in the creepy persona Spencer had taken up. Puppets in white shrouds, freshly carved jack o'lanterns, and handmade black construction paper bats also furnished our home to give the appropriate mood for Halloween. Spencer and I had spent a whole weekend that he had off from work decorating our apartment to the nines. I detested the horrifying aspects of Halloween, but that didn’t mean I hated the holiday. I reveled in the fact that for one day a year I could be someone else, letting my imagination take the reigns of my life even though it was only for a night.

“Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Halloween, I KNEW what this light was. IT WAS JACK SKELLINGTON!!!My parents had just let me watch a Nightmare before Christmas, he must be visiting! I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.” My heart felt stuck in my throat as I sat at the edge of the couch, anxiously awaiting the dreaded jump scare that I could feel creeping up around me. No matter how formulaic ghost stories tended to be I was still tricked every time getting sent into a state of fright, my body always getting a stab of panic and a jolt of terror.

“That’s when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father’s (not to say he isn’t masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, “Stop! Right now. Go back up those stairs.” I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH”  As If on cue from Spencer’s voice a loud clap of thunder shattered through our curtained windows, the sudden sound sent me cowering under my burgundy plush throw which swaddled me like a scared baby. My shaking form didn’t even notice that the story had stopped or that Spencer had retreated into the darkness. My eyes peeked out from under the blanket, the apartment was full of blackness- the power must’ve gone out. All I could see was the pale moonlight creeping through the drapery as my eyes darted trying to locate Spencer.

“Spencer?” I murmured into the shadows- no one answered back from the depths.

“Boo!” Spencer suddenly popped up behind the couch causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

“Fuck! Spencer Walter Reid!” I picked up one of our pillows, chucking it in the direction where I believed him to be hiding. His shriek permeated the apartment as he shielded himself from my wrath with what appeared to be candles. He must’ve retreated to find candles we had stashed in our bathroom when the power shut off.

“Most power outages will be over almost as soon as they begin, but some can last much longer – up to days or even weeks. Power outages are often caused by freezing rain, sleet storms and/or high winds which damage power lines and equipment.” He spouted off at me to try and quell my anger while setting down candles on the coffee table preparing them to be lit. From out of his pocket Spencer produced a disposable lighter- I always let him handle them because my fingers often got burned on them. Stroking the wheel, the lighter sparked to life lighting the apartment once more, soothing my frazzled state.

“I guess that’s kind of comforting…”

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” The soft gleam of the candle flickered on my skin, illuminating the cringe that made its way onto my face.

“No thanks Spencer- I’d rather cuddle.” He flashed me a little stupid grin that I adored and joined me back on the couch. Spencer swathed the blanket around us settling into his position as the big spoon, the combined feeling of  my boyfriend and the velvet like blanket made me feel impervious to the outside world. I nuzzled against his neck sinking deeper into the sofa, letting the soft edges of sleep overtake me, Spencer had a way with cuddles that almost always immediately lulled me to sleep. Sometime later when our pumpkin pie had been long forgotten the lights flicked back on, the fluorescent bulbs combined with the still glowing candles lit our sleeping figures.

[snelbz]

The Ranch {19}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Nesta stood in the paint department and looked at the wall of samples in front of her. She wanted something light, but something that stood out, too. She didn’t want anything like her father had chosen back in the nineties and-.

She shook her head, trying to free her head of the deja vu that washed over her and chuckling quietly. She had been here before, had done this before. Things were just...a little different this time.

As if she wanted to remind her mother of this fact, Nesta felt a sharp pain against her ribs and she inhaled sharply through her teeth. Beau looked up at her, brown eyes wide. He hadn’t left her side since the beginning of her third trimester and Nesta had learned to love the constant, comforting presence.

“Your sister is using my ribs as a punching bag,” she told him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand her. He opened his mouth in what Nesta swore was a smile and his tongue hung to the side.

He always smiled when they talked about the baby.

Nesta was floored as she realized how different her life had become in twelve months. A year ago, she’d been deciding whether or not she should give up everything she’d ever wanted, to move home and run her father’s crumbling dream of a bed and breakfast. Now she was about to have a baby, her perfect, little girl, and she was going to marry the man of her dreams, the man who gave her the gift she never thought possible.

“Nesta?”

She froze, recalling how someone had called her name the last time she’d been here, who it had been when she turned. But it wasn’t Tomas, just Azriel standing in his old, torn jeans and black hoodie. Out of all of them, it was Azriel who looked the least the part of a rancher, but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

“Cass said you were running into town, but this was the last place I thought I’d see you,” Azriel said, when Nesta said nothing. 

Nesta, collecting her thoughts, gestured to the wall of paint samples. “Nursery color.”

“Ah,” Azriel said, huffing a laugh as he stopped next to her and looked at the wall. Beau brushed up against his leg, and he gave the pup a loving scratch behind the ears. “What about purple?”

Nesta frowned, looking at the endless samples of purple. She had gone over the lavender hues ten times already. “Too predictable. Pink, too. I’ve ruled them both out.”

Azriel chuckled. “Fair enough. Cass wants to paint it green.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. She had to admit that she had her eye on a neutral olive color, but it didn’t seem right, it wasn't special enough.  “So I’ve been told. I told him no, though.”

It was true. In fact, the night before they’d had a heated debate over what color the nursery would be. It ended in them making love on the nursery’s carpet, but that was irrelevant. 

“How about blue?” Azriel suggested, picking up a few different swatches. “There are a ton of different shades of blue, surely there’s one you two can agree on.”

It was her favorite color, but it limited her decorating choices. Both the camouflage and rodeo nursery ideas were nixed last night as well, and Cassian was still pouting about it.

“I’ve been leaning towards a softer yellow or orange.” She lifted a buttery yellow card from its slot. It was too bright, too rich. She added it to the stack, knowing it may look different away from the fluorescent lights. “Like the sunrise. First light.”

Azriel was nodding. “Why don’t you ask Feyre to paint the sunrise?”

Nesta was going to blame her stupidity on pregnancy brain as her eyes went wide and she said, “I hadn’t even thought of that. She’d love that.”

Azriel just smiled, softly. “Feyre would be honored, if you asked her.”

Nesta nodded, slowly, then picked out a couple different shades of yellows and oranges. “Since you’re here, please take me to get some tacos. I’ll buy. Might even bring some home to Cass, if he’s been good this morning.” Azriel’s grin widened as they began walking toward the exit. “A little cranky, I must say, but I think that’s just because he’s hungover.”

Nesta snorted. After their fight over paints, he’d indulged himself - one beer too many, perhaps. “It doesn’t take much to be hungover when you wake up at five a.m.”

“True,” Azriel agreed. “I could do tacos, though.”

“Good,” Nesta said, putting the paint swatches into her purse as she and Azriel walked out onto the sidewalk, Beau close behind. 

It wasn’t until they were down the street at a taco vendor’s food truck that Nesta asked, “So, when the hell are you going to ask my sister to marry you?”

The bite he’d been in the process of taking nearly came back out. Nesta didn’t even flinch. She’d spent so much time throwing up in the past eight months that partially chewed food didn’t even phase her. She blinked and waited for him to collect himself before he took a drink of the Corona in his hand.

“You just go straight for the balls, don’t you?” He laughed.

She raised her eyebrows. “Have you met my fiancé?”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, but he sighed. “You want the honest truth?”

Nesta suddenly realized she wasn’t sure. She was meddling and the only person who hated meddling more than she did was Elain. But she nodded.

Az took a deep breath and said, “I’ve had the ring for almost six months.”

“What?” Nesta’s eyes must have nearly bulged out of her head, because Az backed up a step. “And why exactly haven’t you proposed?”

His smile was soft but proud, as he said, “I don’t want to take this time from you, or from Cassian. You’re having a baby. Like, Nesta, you’re growing a literal human inside of yourself.” He chuckled and smiled fondly. “Did you know that even when we were in high school all Cass wanted from life was to rope and have a family. You’re giving him one of those things and I can’t ever thank you for making my brother so happy. And I don’t want to take that spotlight from y’all. I want you to have your moment, so that when the time comes, Elain can have hers.”

Nesta hated Azriel for making her cry over her taco, and yet, tears were sliding down her cheeks as she set her taco back down onto her plate and observed him. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, “Elain is a lucky woman.”

Azriel just shook his head as he took another bite. “That woman deserves the world. If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”

Nesta found herself completely overwhelmed. A year ago, she hadn’t believed love existed, but now? Her and Cassian, Elain and Azriel, Feyre and Rhysand...this type of love was rare, Nesta was sure of it, but somehow they all ended up in a fairytale romance. Her sisters were happy, she was happy...it was perfect. 

“Don’t tell your sister that I made you cry,” Azriel went on, shoving the last of his taco into his mouth. “She’ll kick my ass. She’s scary when she wants to be.”

She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a scratchy napkin. “She’ll understand when you knock her up. I cried yesterday during a Christmas commercial.” Azriel waited, knowing that was somewhat common. “A commercial for cattle feed.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Doesn’t change the fact that your sister will punch me in the dick if she finds out I was the cause of your tears.”

They both laughed and Nesta smiled. “Thank you for making her so happy.”

Az gave her that full smile that so many rarely saw. “It’s my pleasure.”

Nesta finished her tacos and ordered some for Cassian for the road. “Word of advice,” she said, getting into her car. Beau already patiently sat in the passenger seat. “Don’t ask her on a holiday. Girls don’t want to share their special day.”

Azriel’s eyebrows raised. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”

Nesta chuckled. “You were going to propose on New Years, weren’t you?”

He nodded once. “Yes, I was.”

She laughed, full and bright, and said, “How about this? You tell me when it’s time, I’ll plan a family dinner and voila, you’ve got yourself a fiancée.”

“Really?” Azriel asked, stopping in front of the driver’s side of the truck’s door.

“Of course,” Nesta said, crossing her arms, the bag of Cassian’s food hanging on her arm. 

“Thank you,” he said, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

Although they were going to the same place, they said their goodbyes and Nesta drove home, slowly. By the time she made it back home to the ranch with her paint swatches, Cassian was mowing the lawn. He was shirtless, of course, and was chugging a bottle of water as he rode the lawn mower across the grass. As Nesta pulled into the driveway, he was waving and putting it in park. 

He was covered in sweat, but Nesta still didn’t stop him as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “The grass was long.”

Nesta nodded. She had wanted to ask him to mow, considering she was too pregnant to do so, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt his daily plans. “I brought you tacos.” 

“Mmm, that’s exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, pulling her onto his sweaty lap and opening the box in her hands.

She squirmed out of his arms, as best as she could at eight and a half months pregnant and said, “I’m going to go hang the swatches on the wall, come see when you’re done?”

He nodded, shoving an entire taco in his mouth.

She chuckled, but shivered as a brisk wind blew by. “Cass, I know the sun is straight on you, but it’s forty-five degrees out. Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

He finished chewing and said, “How else will I keep my tan year round?”

She shook her head and said, “I’ll be inside, call me if you need me. I love you.”

He smiled at her, those hazel eyes sparkling from the joy he felt inside. “I love you too, darlin’.”

She turned and started up the porch steps and heard, “Hey.”

Nesta looked back at him and he asked, the sparkle replaced by his usual mischievous glint, “You got any green swatches in there?”

Nesta rolled her eyes as Azriel pulled the truck in next to her little car. “No.”

She continued up into the house, laughing when she heard Az ask why the hell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She pulled the swatches out of her purse, including the couple of greens she’d snagged on their way out, along with her phone and she and Beau made their way up to her old room.

The room that she grew up in was the same room her daughter would too.

As she was taping swatches to the room, in various lighting, she called Feyre, putting her phone on speaker.

“Hello?” her sister answered a second later.

“Hey,” Nesta said, looking around the room. “I have a favor to ask.” “Ask away,” Feyre said.

Nesta admired the swatches she had chosen before clearing her throat. “Would you mind...helping me paint the baby’s nursery?”

There was a slight pause, then Feyre’s quiet voice came through, “Of course.”

“I was thinking the sunrise,” Nesta continued, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. “Bright, cheery, calming.”

“I can do that,” Feyre breathed. “I can come by this weekend?”

“Perfect,” Nesta agreed. There was a few seconds of silence before Nesta said, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my niece,” Feyre said, then added, “And anything for you. And that idiot fiancé of yours.”

Nesta peeked out the window where Cassian was still mowing without his shirt on. He always acted like it was spring, even in the winter. Although their town stayed pretty mild, winter-wise, there was still a little chill in the air. “Idiot he is, but he’s my idiot.”

Feyre chuckled. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Nesta promised. “I’ll see you then.”

They said their goodbyes before Nesta was left alone, in the silence, observing the room around her. Five minutes of planning in her head passed before heavy boots padded up the stairs and Cassian appeared, now wearing a hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Can I help with anything?”

She was admiring the colors in the direct sunlight. “You can tell me which of these you like best.”

“Hmm.” He came up behind her, pressing his big hands against her belly. Even as round as she was, even at over eight months pregnant, his hands still covered most of it. But then they slid upwards until he was cupping a breast in each hand. He made a show of weighing them and squeezing them gently, and said, “I don’t know, I think I’m pretty partial to the left one.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, and pushed away from him, walking towards the wall. “I meant color, baby.”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” he snorted, coming in closer as well.

It turned out that it was, in fact, not easy.

After forty-five minutes of arguing and an almost silent quickie with the door open to make up, they had narrowed it down to New Spring Chick and Frosted Tropical Apricot.

They would let Feyre make the final decision in the morning.

“Don’t you have to get back out there?” Nesta asked.

Cassian shook his head. “For now, Az has it covered, it’s been an easy day. I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, though.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “Dinner?”

Cassian nodded, then gestured to her belly. “We only have so much more time before baby comes. We should have a date night while we can.”

Nesta watched him for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine. But does this mean I have to get dressed up?”

Cassian grinned. “You could wear fucking sweatpants for all I care, but I’m taking you out.”

She wouldn’t wear sweatpants, but she also didn’t plan on wearing another real pair of pants until after this baby was out of her.

Cassian pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, which he did every chance he took, and left to go take a much needed shower. Nesta got ready, slipping on a pair of comfy black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Cass ended up dressing nearly identically, except he did wear sweatpants.

They hopped in the “play truck” and right before they left, Cassian said, “Shit, I’ll be right back.”

Nesta sat straight up, hands forming a protective cage around her stomach. “What? Is everything okay?”

He jogged into the house and came back out a minute later, backpack tossed over his shoulder. Climbing back into the truck, he tossed it in the backseat and put it in reverse.

“What is that?” she asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“This,” Cass replied, putting his free hand in Nesta’s and rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand, “is our emergency bag. It’s got everything we’ll need in it in case you go into labor. Clothes, insurance paperwork, phone chargers, snacks.” He began a smooth back and forth motion. “Diapers, binkies, onesies, little socks and blankets, and everything else our precious girl is going to need.”

She blinked, and hated that tears were, once again, rolling down her cheeks. “You have truly thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged. “You’re literally growing my child inside of you. As your baby daddy, it’s my job to take as much stress off of you as possible.”

Nesta leaned over the center console and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned, fully satisfied with himself, as he pulled onto the road and headed into town. They drove to a little Italian restaurant because Nesta had mentioned she could use a plate full of breadsticks. Cassian ordered it to go, though, and hopped back into the truck before driving a mile down the road to the old high school. He parked in the parking lot before hopping out and putting down the truck bed.

“Come on, babe,” he called, already taking the boxes of pasta out of the bag. When Nesta came around, he helped her onto the back of the truck before joining her there, his thigh brushing hers.

She ate her alfredo happily, indeed chowing down on an insane number of breadsticks that Cassian swore he didn’t count.

He was rubbing her feet when she asked, voice quiet, “Are you scared?”

He looked at her, at how she was staring off toward the football field, pretending not to notice him staring at her. “Am I scared of doing something stupid? Yes. Am I scared it’s going to be a lot more than we’re expecting? Yes. Am I scared we’re going to get in over our heads? Yes. Am I scared that there’s about to be a miniature version of you running around? Hell yes.” He turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “But am I scared to be a father? No. Am I scared to meet our daughter? No. Am I scared to do this with you? Absolutely not.”

She whispered, “Quit making me cry.”

But he shook his head, softly. “I love you, Nesta. And yeah, I am scared, but I can’t wait. This little girl already has me wrapped around her finger and she’s not even here yet.”

A tear slid down her cheek that he quickly reached up and brushed away. “Are you scared?”

Nesta took a moment to think about it, but then she sighed. “Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”

Cassian chuckled, in full understanding.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect,” she said, after a minute. “I’m not sure how to handle the not knowing.”

“That’s why we have each other, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get home. I have a shitload of furniture to build tonight.”

The egregiously overpriced infant's bedroom suit that Nesta had seen online had been delivered that afternoon. Cassian couldn’t understand how Nesta could justify spending as much as some people spent on a vehicle on furniture that was just going to get covered in shit and baby barf.

Not to mention that it had been shipped from overseas.

They packed up their trash and got back in the truck, heading for home.

“While I carry all of the boxes upstairs, why don’t you take a nice bath, baby?” He asked. “And then when you’re done, you can read me instructions that I won’t listen to while I figure out how to put it all together.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “At least you’re honest.” 

He took her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I am that.”

Nesta had to admit that the thought of a bath sounded incredible, though, so she didn’t argue. Once they got home, Nesta was making her way, slowly, up the porch, inside, and up the stairs while Cassian got to work on gathering the boxed nursery furniture. They had a changing table, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a crib, all of which Nesta had bought from a small French boutique that had always caught her eye in Paris. When Cassian asked why they couldn’t just go into town and buy something that was already assembled, Nesta’s answer was simple: she was getting what she wanted, and she wanted the modern, white, sleek furniture she’d on her walk to work every day.

Cassian didn’t argue. 

While she was soaking in the tub, she could hear Cass moving around in the other room. She’d hear a thump as a box was dropped or something would start dragging across the floor. At one point, she heard a loud bang followed by Son of a bitch!

Nesta laughed quietly to herself and smoothed a hand over her belly, which stuck out of the water by a considerable amount. “Daddy’s getting your room put together, sweet girl, and then we’re ready for you to get here whenever you are.”

She leaned her head back against the cool, porcelain tub, sighing happy. Life had become so crazy lately, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be stressed about it.

Her phone vibrated on the small table by her head and when she leaned up to glance at it, her hand slipped on the slick surface. The table knocked against the tub and Nesta gasped as her phone fell into the water.

“Shit,” she breathed, grabbing it out and tossing it onto a nearby towel. She decided that was the end of her bath and got out drying herself off and getting dressed.

She tried to power her phone back on, knowing she shouldn’t but hoping it hadn’t been in the water long enough to do any damage. The logo popped up in the middle of the screen then it went black and began to make a whirring noise.

“Damn it.” She sighed and made her way downstairs, throwing it in a bag of rice to see if it could be salvaged. Otherwise, it looked like she’d be going into town the next day for a new phone.

Cassian was padding down the stairs a moment later, his brows furrowed. He took one look at Nesta and froze, then looked down at her phone in the bag of rice. “Your phone take a bath, too?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” With a deep sigh, she leaned back against the counter. “I’m pissed.”

“Me too,” Cassian mumbled, throwing open the fridge and grabbing two beers. “I’ve decided that I hate France. Or at least French furniture. Fuck France and their fancy furniture.”

Nesta snorted and came up behind him, attempting to wrap her arms around his waist, but over her giant bump, she hardly managed to reach around his sides.

Cassian's body shook with silent laughter as he turned to face her. “Bump in the way?” He asked, before setting one of his beer cans on the top of it, which only made Nesta roll her eyes.

“It’s not a table,” she laughed. 

“Seems pretty convenient to me,” he shrugged, popping open a can and chugging it down. He brushed his hand over her bump, and just when he touched, baby girl kicked wildly from inside, which only made Nesta groan. 

“That either means that she loves me, or that she’s telling me to fuck off,” Cassian said, which made Nesta laugh. After he kissed her forehead, then the bump with the wild, little Nazari inside, he said, “Alright, baby mama, come upstairs and watch me struggle.”

She smirked and headed for the stairs as he tossed the empty can in the trash, opened the second and grabbed a third to take upstairs. “I already do that on the daily. What’s so different about building furniture?”

She heard him mimic her words in a mocking tone and she laughed as she topped the stairs and made her way into the nursery.

It looked like a styrofoam factory exploded. There were pieces everywhere and screws littering the little catch-all tray he pulled from his tool box. She sighed, realizing it was going to be a long night.

But when she looked out the window, into the starry, cloudless night, and screamed Cassian’s name, she forgot all about furniture and messy packing materials. She forgot all about her phone lying useless on the kitchen counter. She even, for a moment, forgot her own name.

Because the stables were catching on fire.

Cassian was instantly behind her, his eyes wide as he swore violently. “Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone, pulling out his phone on the way out the nursery door. 

Nesta could only stare in horror as Cassian's dark figure, only outlined by the light of the moon, sprinted down the path that led to the stables.

It was quickly going up in flames, all consuming, raging flames. Nesta didn’t understand how it could have happened.

Only moments ago, she had been down in the kitchen and the stables were fine.

Then, the thought that had her heart stopping entered her mind. It hadn’t been an accident, couldn’t have been an accident, but that didn’t make any sense. 

A slow panic crept into the pit of her stomach, she was breathing heavier, her heart beating wildly as she sobbed, holding onto her bump, the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity.

Nesta remembered that Az had told her he’d put the horses in the pasture this morning, since it wasn’t supposed to rain, and she was thankful to whatever god whispered in his ear and told him to do so.

She needed to call someone, needed to get the fire department here. Needed to call her sisters, to call Az. Without thinking, she turned and ran from the room, carefully making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Her phone wasn’t on the counter where she’d left it and she frantically looked around the kitchen. 

She plunged into near darkness as the lights went out and a frightened scream burst from Nesta, followed by a sob.

She needed Cassian.

She screamed his name, her voice full of shaking terror as she reached around, trying to find something to hold onto. Eventually, her hands found the edge of the counter and she told herself to breath, in and out. Stress wasn’t good for the baby, panic wasn’t good for the baby.

But she couldn’t help it, and as if the infant in her womb knew that something horrible was happening, she kicked wildly.

Nesta felt the need to puke but she couldn’t move, not in the darkness, not as far from the city as they were. Even as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she couldn’t see through the endless tears.

She tried one more time to scream Cassian’s name, but her voice came out broken, terrified, and it was no use, he was too far away.

She thought she heard a door open and close across the house and she froze. Her voice cracked as she called, “Cass?”

There was no answer.

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She held onto the counter as she quickly ran for the back door - only to find that it was jammed shut, a two-by-four under the doorknob preventing it from opening.

She began to hyperventilate as she realized that this, all of this, was deliberate. The fire still blazed outside, and Nesta heard a creak from the old, wood flooring in the other room. Her blood chilled as she realized that she wasn’t alone in the house.

She ran for the front door, finding it stuck shut as well. “Please, please, please!” She sobbed, pulling on the door as hard as she could. There were unmistakably footsteps from the dining room and she cried, “Please, I’m pregnant, please.”

She hurried back to the kitchen as quietly as she could and silently opened a drawer, pulling out a large knife. She held it out, blindly as she took shuddering breaths.

Then he appeared, in the doorway, wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but slim.

She knew who it was.

She would be foolish to convince herself it wasn’t him. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted from her, had stalked her for months without saying a word. He didn’t come any closer.

Nesta did not lower her knife.

She tried to convince herself to look unafraid, to sound calm, but she couldn’t help the tears that continued to stream down her face.

Inside of her womb, the infant became utterly still.

Nesta swallowed and lifted her chin. “Leave,” she ordered, the demand echoing in the silence. “Or I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”

Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced they were true.

Cassian couldn’t breathe. There was smoke in his eyes, it was unbearably hot, and he couldn’t stop coughing, but then he was out in the fresh night air, his back hitting the soft grass.

He knew that Az had led the horses out before he left today, had watched him take them out one by one, but he had to make sure. He had to verify that there wasn’t one down somewhere.

He found nothing, not a horse or person inside.

Except the overwhelming smell of gasoline.

This fire wasn’t natural, it was intentional. This fire was set.

He’d called Azriel before his feet had hit the landing of the stairs telling him what was happening and asking him to call the fire department. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could turn on the garden hose and put it out. With as much accelerant was used, it would burn all night.

He knew exactly who it was, he didn’t try to delude himself into anything else.

A truck door slammed and Feyre and Rhys were running toward him.

“What happened?” He asked, helping him stand. Cassian saw that his arm was covered in soot. “I have no idea. We were building baby furniture and the barn was fine, came down to the kitchen so I could grab a beer, and when Nes got back upstairs it was in a blaze.” He coughed, but continued, “Smells like a damn Mapco in there, there was so much gasoline dumped.”

“Gasoline?” Feyre asked, covering her mouth in horror.

Cassian nodded. “Tomas did this.”

Rhysand stilled as Feyre’s face paled.

“I have to go to Nesta,” she breathed, backing away from the fire, even though she wasn’t close to it. She glanced back at the dark. “Is she down at the cabin?”

Cassian’s face fell as he glanced up at the big house, then, he was sprinting.

If Tomas had done this, which Cassian was sure he did, he would still be close. He ran without stopping, without a breath, until he was up the back porch. The door was wide open, a piece of wood sitting off to the side.

Cassian was inside of the kitchen before he screamed, “Nesta?!”

There was no reply in the dark house, no movement or creak or whisper. He frantically flicked the light switch, nothing happening.

“What’s going on?” Feyre called, catching up and coming up the stairs.

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but there was a banging from the front of the house. “Nesta?!”

He was running through the dark house immediately, finding Azriel and Elain on the other side of the front door. It was jammed closed as well. “Move!”

They did as he said and he put all of his weight into the motion as he tried to shove the door open. On the second try, it gave way.

Elain was already crying when she and Az ran in. He said, “Fire department is on the way.”

Cassian was about to say something when Rhysand’s shaking voice called out from the kitchen. “Cass… come here.”

The sound of his voice chilled Cassian’s blood. He hurried back, could see from the glow that either Feyre or Rhys was using their phone’s flashlight function.

He stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself and ran to the other side of the island.

He froze.

One of the kitchen knives was missing from its spot in the open drawer, but it laid on the floor, just a few feet away.

There was so much blood.

She was gone. He took her. By taking her, he took them both.

Cassian heaved over the kitchen sink, everything within his stomach emptying out. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He knew he was sobbing, but no one tried to comfort him. Knew no one was sure how.

Nesta was gone. His baby girl was gone. Tomas had taken them. They were gone, the only hunch of where they had gone written on the kitchen floor: a long kitchen knife and a puddle of blood. 

Cassian was ready to set the world on fire.

“I have to find her,” he breathed, he cried, as his face fell into his hands next to the kitchen sink. “I will find her.”

“Cass-.”

“No,” Cassian interrupted Rhysand before he could even say a word. “He’s out there, and he has my fucking fiancée and child!” 

But Rhysand only shook his head. “I know. I’m coming, too.”

“Me too,” Azriel agreed, then looked to Elain, who nodded.

“We'll take care of things around here,” Elain promised. “Go to the police. Now.” 

Cassian was already near the front door, just as a fire truck pulled onto the grounds. 

“I’ll go talk to them,” Feyre said, and kissed Rhysand quickly on the cheek before hurrying out the back door, Elain close behind. 

Cassian was looking around the house as he walked, even though he’d already searched the entirety of it. Rhysand and Azriel were on his heels as they exited through the front door.

Rhysand’s truck had the most room, and they knew letting Cassian drive wasn’t the smartest. The first logical place to go was the Carlson ranch, only to find it deserted. Cassian looked at the window, where he’d hurled the brick back at him.

“Where would they go?” Azriel asked, kicking something aside as they searched through his workshop.

Rhysand’s phone rang and he answered it. A quick conversation took place, and Feyre said the police needed to talk to Cassian.

They loaded back up into the truck and went back to the ranch. The police were there, along with the fire department and an ambulance, and the second Cassian’s feet hit the ground, questions were being asked.

“What happened?”

Cassian replayed the situation, from the second Nesta had noticed the fire blazing up until the point he realized they were missing. 

“You have to find her,” he told the police, after he told his story. “She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant, nearly ready to go into labor, you have to fucking find her.”

“We will do everything we ca-.”

“Find her!” he yelled, grabbing the cop he’d been talking to by the shoulders. No one reacted, everyone stayed calm, even the cop that was being grabbed.

The young cop simply took a deep breath before saying, “We will look for her, adamantly, starting now.”

Cassian released his shoulders and nodded, and said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, just… I have to get them back.”

He looked over to where the stables once stood. Now it was a smoldering pile of wood and cinders, all that time put in, all those memories. Gone up in a blaze.

They told Cassian he couldn’t stay in their house that night, that they’d be combing through it for any evidence.

He asked a passing officer, “Will you please, please tell me if that’s her blood?”

The dark red hair, the amber eyes. He was a Vanserra, no doubt.

He nodded. “As soon as we know something, we’ll let you know.”

They let Cassian go in, accompanied by Elain, to get what he would need for the next few days. 

Elain did most of the packing, although she cried the whole time. Cassian couldn’t stay focused though, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.

All he could think about was Nesta and their baby, where they were, what he was doing to them.

But per the cops request, Cassian went home with Azriel and Elain to wait for further word.

But he didn’t sleep, didn’t rest.

And he wouldn’t until he found them.

Nesta, and his baby girl. 

[thebookreader12345]

Horse Drawn Sleigh

Pairing: Patrick Flueger x reader

Summary: Y/N and Patrick are finally on break from shooting their respective shows, and Patrick decides to surprise his girlfriend with a fun date for the holidays

Requested: No

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,106 Words

Patrick and I had been together for a little less than a year now. We met while I was filming Chicago Med. He was having lunch with Jesse Soffer, who was doing a guest appearance in one of the episodes, and we hit it off. We didn’t start dating until about a year after that, but it gave us the time to become good friends before we took the next step.

I woke up from my sleep and rolled over, expecting to come in contact with my boyfriend’s body, but I was instead met with an empty bed. I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, untangling a few of the strands that had knotted together while I slept, and then got out of bed. The coldness of the floor didn’t bother me too much, seeing as I was pretty used to the Chicago weather, but I desperately wanted some coffee to warm up. As I got to the doorway to the bedroom, the smell of pancakes hit my nose, and my stomach growled. Upon entering the rest of the apartment, I found my boyfriend standing in the kitchen cooking. That’s not what surprised me though. The rest of the apartment was fully decorated with holiday decor, except for the tree that stood bare on the far right of the room.

“Morning,” Patrick said once he noticed I was awake. “I made breakfast.”

“I know. I could smell it all the way from the bedroom. I can also see that you’ve been pretty busy. What time did you wake up this morning?” I question.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s our first Christmas together, and I wanted to make it special,” Patrick told me.

“You’re so sweet, did you know that?” I ask.

“It did cross my mind,” Patrick spoke with a small smile gracing his lips.

I sat down at our small dining table and folded my hands in front of me. “Did you also happen to notice that there’s nothing on the tree?”

“I did, because I thought we would do it together later, after I give you your surprise,” Patrick answered. At the word ‘surprise’, my ears perked up. I loved surprises, especially the kind that have you waiting in suspense for what’s to come.

“What kind of surprise?” I implore, hoping to get more out of him.

“I’m not going to tell you anything else. All you get to know is that there is a surprise. Now, eat your breakfast,” Patrick said and placed a plate of pancakes in front of me. 

Later that night, I was getting ready to find out what surprise Patrick had in store for me. I put on a cute white knitted sweater, blue jeans, and my black combat boots. On top of that I had my black, woolen button up along with my white winter hat, which had a little puffball hanging off the end of it. Once I had gotten dressed, I waited in the living room for Patrick to finish getting ready.

“I’m so excited,” I chirp.

“I can tell. You ready to get going?” Patrick asked me.

“Um, yes. Lets go!” I cheer and grab his hand, dragging him out the front door to our apartment. Patrick climbed into the driver’s seat with me in the passenger seat, and as soon as we were both buckled up, Patrick started the engine and drove down the street. I stared out my window to help pass the time and calm myself down, and it worked. Chicago was so pretty in the winter, especially when there was a blanket of snow covering the ground, which there was right now. After about a 15 minute drive, we arrived at our destination; Millennium Park.

“Come on,” Patrick said and took my hand, leading me down a path towards the center of the park. A light snow started falling down on top of us as we walked through the park with our hands intertwined, and it made everything look so peaceful. Finally, Patrick stopped walking, and I looked up to see a horse drawn sleigh.

“Oh my god. Is this my surprise?” I ask excitedly.

“Yep,” Patrick replied and led me over to the sleigh. He greeted the driver, a young woman, who commented on how cute we were together, and then we settled down onto the bench at the back of the sleigh. Once we were ready, the woman flicked the reins, and the horses started walking down the pathway. “So, what do you think?”

“This is amazing!” I exclaim and lean into his side. During the ride, Patrick and I stayed close together admiring our surroundings and how they looked covered in snow. We passed the Bean, Crown Fountain, the front lawn, and many other things, and everything looked beautiful, especially since it was somewhat dark out. The ride took about 45 minutes, and I enjoyed every second of it. On the way back to the car, I stopped in my tracks and turned to face Patrick before pulling him down to my height to place a kiss on his lips.

“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him. “It was awesome.”

“No problem. I thought we could both use a much needed break, and this was the first thing that came to mind. You ready to get home and decorate the tree?” Patrick asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

....................................

“Here you go. One cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows,” Patrick spoke and handed me a mug.

“Thanks,” I say and take the mug from his hands. “So, how does it look?”

“It looks amazing,” Patrick answered and admired the tree. “But I think it needs a topper.” Patrick dug the star out from its box and handed it to me so that I could put it on top of the tree. I, however, was too short to reach the top, so I needed a little help. Patrick wrapped his arms around my waist and hoisted me up just enough to where I could place the star on the top of the tree. Once the star was in its rightful place, Patrick set me down, and I turned to face him.

“I had fun today. We should do stuff like this more often,” I confess.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Patrick muttered and leaned down to attach his lips to mine. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Paddy. You in the mood to watch a childish Christmas movie? Maybe the Grinch,” I suggest.

“Have you met me? Of course I want to watch a childish Christmas movie. And the Grinch sounds perfect. Lets do it,” Patrick said.

__________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @anotherfan07​

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Christmas with You~

(It’s days after Christmas as usual I haven’t active or slept  properly yet but I’ve been focused on my store lol. I hadn’t been super on my writing game in a hot minute so I decided to write how your partner would treat you during the holidays. This features EVERY single villain I write for from the list located in my bio IN ORDER. Also I apologize if you don’t celebrate Christmas and this doesn’t apply to you. I hope you still had a great holiday anyway, and I love you!)

~Toga💉-She begins her present shopping early because she wants to find you something that she’s sure you’ll like! Eventually she ends up buying a ton of things, but none of them satisfy her and she’s worried you won’t like any of them even though you will. So finally she settles on making you something instead. She will stay up all night long pushing herself to put together the perfect gift for you and will literally fall apart if you don’t like it. But I’m sure she won’t have to worry about anything like that.

~Dabi🔥-Hates the holidays. He tells you they hold some pretty shitty childhood memories for him and he’s honestly all for avoiding even just the thought of Christmas, but of course he looks at you and that changes. He’s really willing to try and take part in a little holiday cheer just for you even if it’s stupid to him. Call it cheesy, but when he celebrates with you it helps take away from the old bad thoughts. It gives him a chance to replace the bad memories with good ones. So he’ll bake some shitty cookies with you, and poorly wrap presents even if he knows that you know what he got for you. Of course he’s not opposed to a mistletoe kiss or two (or three). You help put the cheer in the holiday for him.

~Overhaul🥀-Hates Christmas. It’s not the holiday, it’s just how many people are buzzing around up until that point. So he gets ALL of his shopping done early. And and all emergencies are to be handled by his men (ex: in case he forgot something on the list). The number one thing he takes super seriously is you seeing your presents. You better hope he doesn’t catch you sneaking around the tree. He will lock you in the bedroom until the day of Christmas itself before he lets you open any of them early...even on Christmas eve

~Shigaraki🤚-Literally wakes you up super early on the morning of just so you can watch a movie with him in a fluffy throw blanket with the hum of his electric heater nearby. He loves this season with you more than any other because he can use the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with you. “Oh well you know I’m kinda small here so I don’t produce a lot of body heat. You should come closer.” Aside from that, he loves the way you celebrate. You make it up to him for not having a childhood at all. Surprisingly enough, he loves doing all the little things with you.

~Tengai🏳-Doesn’t see a point in the holidays and never really supported it before. Now don’t get me wrong, he’s no scrooge. He would rather spend his time the way he usually did around this time of the year: working at charity spots and donation centers. When you find out he spends every holiday season serving food to people less fortunate it makes your heart soar. So if you have the time to join him, then by all means please do so. Help him spread a little peace this season

~Deidoro🍺-Being someone that knows a LOT about different drinks out there, he has never in his life heard about eggnog. It throws you for a loop at first and you laugh at him as he watches you in confusion. “Wait...you’re being serious about this???” So you have to sit him down, make it for him, and let him try it. I mean, how could he be the one person to not know about this when its alcohol related? Well let’s just say that not only does it stick, but Sakaki has been downing eggnog at the Hassaikai Christmas party all night, and now he’s trying to literally eat you in the bathroom while you’re washing your face. It’s ridiculous

~Nemouto✔-This man is 100% proposing to you on Christmas night after a long date with you. For someone that talks about feelings being pointless, he sure does have a lot of love for you. He pays attention to the details and the moods around him. This time was a boost in your happiness and it signaled the perfect time for him to pop the question to you. Add in all those romantic light attractions, and the snow with the carolers etc. Its free romance that he can ride on and use to his advantage. Catch him getting on one knee in the snow after you two are leaving a light show in the city.

~Setsuno💔-Holidays are depressing to say the least. To him, Christmas and Valentines day were the worst 2 days to be alone out of any day of the year. Well WERE until you came into his life. He stares at you unwrapping presents under the tree while he sips some cocoa and he thinks about how lucky he was that you came into his life. Little moments like these help tie together the ideal that holidays aren’t so bad. Thanks to you, he no longer has to fight back tears of sadness in the dead of night as the snow falls against his window and sticks until it melts. Now he has to fight tears of joy blurring his eyes while you two lounge on the couch and try to get through a holiday movie without falling asleep on each other

~Compress🎭-Will do any and everything with you during this day. I mean he’s going to go all out for you on any day of the year, but this one is a little different. So bring in those matching Santa hats, and roll out the gingerbread house kits. Compress is down for it all. It’s not just for you, but all for the sake of letting loose for once during the year and allowing himself to relax as a civilian instead of a villain on the run. He’d rather spend time building a gingerbread house than trekking through the cold forest with the sounds of sirens in the background getting near. 

~Twice👬-This man gets a new ugly Christmas sweater like every year since 7 years ago. The only difference is now he can celebrate with you and his friends instead of celebrating with himself and his clones, alone somewhere in a storage unit. And yes: he’s the number one person to force the league into a Christmas party because he knows you’ll have fun hanging out with him and everyone else (since usually he keeps you away for protection). He’s also the most likely to make everyone engage in secret Santa with each other. Jin is also the one most likely to burn through Christmas movie marathons like it’s nothing at all to him. He runs on peppermint hot cocoa, and marshmallows so don’t challenge him at all

~Kurogiri☁️-Usually he wouldn’t think twice to celebrate it. It doesn’t bother him, but he’s not really focused on being cheerful when there’s work to be done instead. You have to be the one to help him slow down and enjoy the tiny things here and there. He’ll help you string up lights, decorations, and the tree. Believe me, he does an amazing job on it all because he doesn’t half-ass his work in any kind of way whatsoever. He’s also kinda in love with the Christmas sweater/vest combo you got for him (and he’s secretly wanting to brag about it). He’s not one for the sweets like the ribbon candy, or the candy canes but he’ll blow through holiday food that you cook or order. Most of all, he’s invested in seeing you smile 

~AFO💀-Christmas is just another excuse for him to spoil you. However, you have to step up and let him know it’s more than just gift giving that he needs to do. Where you would love some quality time with him, he’s more about giving you 1,000′s of dollars of gifts and handling work that needs to be done. But who can say no to those eyes of yours huh? (Don’t answer that. Just know he’s not one to deny you). He’s not really into the holidays but he treats it like a big important date night between the two of you. He’ll go above and beyond to ensure things runs smoothly. You’ll have to introduce him to ‘stay at home’ dates for once. If not

~Stain🔪- Isn’t down for it until you mention the tradition that some people go out and chop a real tree. For some odd reason, he’s attached to the idea of chopping a tree down. At first you thought you’d successfully got him into the Christmas spirit, but it just turns out he was eager to use a blade for big business for the first time. Either way, you shrugged it off and rode with it. And boy was that a mistake to make...You were shivering out there. Stain had you in the forest for at least an hour now while he hunted down the perfect tree. You swore to yourself that you’d be getting a fake one next year

~Muscular💪-”Celebrate Christmas? Okay, why tho?” You maybe could convince him by disguising it as a romantic time but he’s not big on romance either. You entice him with gift giving. More importantly the idea of hiding his gifts and not letting him see a single one till Christmas day. THAT is how you get him into the holiday. Be warned though, he’s mostly taking part in the other celebrations because he’s wanting those presents so badly.  

~Mustard☣-You’ll be lucky if you can get him to go Christmas shopping with him, let alone celebrate. No offense against the holiday itself but Mustard doesn’t celebrate ANY day. He doesn’t even like to celebrate his own birthday! He seems to be a bit more bitter around the holidays and the cheer isn’t helping. “C’mon don’t be a scrooooooge!” You poke at his cheek while he’s scrolling through his phone on the couch. “Y/N for the last time, kindly piss off.” He glares at you before turning his attention to his phone again. At this point you’ll either have to risk getting put under from annoying him too much, or you’ll have to find another way to convince him to loosen up. Good luck with it

~Spinner🦎-10/10 best person to spend Christmas with. He’s more into it than you are. As soon as December 1st hits, he’s putting up decorations. In fact, he put up the tree a week before Thanksgiving. The holidays remind him of when he was little and he sat in his mom’s lap while she sewed a Christmas tree quilt. Or when he and his sibling would have snowball fights in the backyard (despite his aversion to cold weather due to his quirk). Shuichi will sit down and write out a holiday movie watch list and watch a different Christmas almost every single day with you if you’d allow it. He’s the first to bake cookies, and the first to start buying gifts early. Most of all, he’s happy to spend this time with you. (Oh be prepared for those walks in the park to admire the Christmas lights)

~Katsukame🗿-Big guy is a lot more cheerful than you know, but he knows nothing about Christmas so you gotta show him all those old fashioned traditions. But please don’t tell him to deck the halls because he will pull a ‘Rappa’ move and punch holes in the hallway walls. Aside from that, he’s pretty open to Christmas cookies, and even decorating. But I have to say he draws the line at singing door to door at people’s houses because he hates to sing. He doesn’t even like to hum lol 

~Rappa👊-Hell yeah he’s gonna spend it with you! The big guy is literally sold on just about anything involving you (well as long as he doesn’t have to wear a stuffy suit for it). His excitement stems mostly from his curiosity. He never had a bad childhood but he still can’t remember much of the holidays back then. So who needs old memories when you can make new ones! At least that’s his reasoning after all lol. 

~Hawks🦅-This guy is the WORST at giving you presents. I mean his gifts are amazing, but he always slips up and tells you what they are too soon. In fact, he will buy you something and ask if you wanna see it within the next five minutes afterward. Its gotten to the point where you have to beg him almost to stop letting wanting you to open stuff. He can’t help it though! Keigo just loves spoiling you, and holidays are the exception where he can go crazy with his saved money.

~Magne🕶-She has this crazy secret collection that she finally busted out once you’ve gotten close enough to you in the relationship. Her secret collection ended up being a MASSIVE set of sweaters (specifically Christmas themed) While she’s beaming proudly about how she has a different sweater for every day in December, your jaw is almost on the floor. “Mag...don’t...don’t these cost like 50 bucks each? How long have you been collecting these?!” Anyway, you should expect an ugly Christmas sweater party with the League at least once this December 

~Tabe🍡-Forget celebrating the other stuff that comes with Christmas, you already know what he’s excited about...All that yummy yummy food!!! Oh God (if it applies) take him to your family (or friends) for Christmas and watch his face as he enters to see that table full of food. Oh man, he’s going to do his best to be respectful but on the inside he wants to destroy all of the food on that table. Oh and don’t worry about the whole baking cookies for Santa because Tabe is most likely going to eat them...and drink the milk too

~Hojo💎-He starts present shopping in late October, early November so that way he has everything he needs to get for you (which is a lot). He hides your presents at the base so you have no idea where to find them. Thanks to the base being an underground labyrinth, you’ll never see those gifts until Christmas eve (just one), and Christmas day (the rest of them). Hojo goes along with whatever you do to celebrate the holidays. He’s just perfect husband material to be honest. Not too rough around the edges, but willing to beat a man to death if his job calls for it. Who knew he’d be the most willing to celebrate the holidays with you.

~Chronostasis🔫-He will literally defy anyone that stood in the way of spending this holiday with you. That includes his own best friend/boss. Overhauls knows this, and he’s comes to respect your relationship so he purposefully doesn’t schedule Hari to work on Christmas (but he still pays him for the full day since he’s still his friend). Hari will absolutely kill anyone that got in the way of your cheer. Even if you were one of those people that believed in Christmas magic, he would support you. The world is tough, and it shows no mercy so little things like joy during the holiday meant a lot more than anyone could know in your household. He loves to see you happy so if that means celebrating with you, then he’s going to do it. Besides...he secretly likes Christmas himself

~Mimic💰-Literally loves to talk about how unnecessary it is while he’s also excited for it as well. Like he’ll talk down about decorating while he’s decorating. If you try to step between him he’s gonna tell you to: “Back off, you’re messing up my artistic flow here. Go sit on the couch. Make yourself useful and unwrap the candy cane boxes for the tree.” You can see by the way he steps back and puts his hands on his hips to admire his handy-work that he’s taken a bit of pride in things here. 

~Pops🇯🇵-The old man will take part in the celebration with you because he absolutely adores both you AND the holiday itself as well. He might mix in a few older traditions like Elf on a Shelf, and making a popcorn line to go around the tree. Most importantly you can look forward to opening one gift early as per tradition on Christmas eve. Pops is thankful every single year he gets to spend with you. 

~Giran👏-Christmas presents from him are on lock. You see he developed this tactic after brainstorming some ideas. He’s always buying you anything and everything but he realizes that it takes away from his Christmas gift pool. To combat this, he decided to cutdown on his generosity in the months of September, October, and November. That way, it’ll give him some time to get you a bunch of stuff on Christmas that you DONT already own. Or at least some stuff you don’t already need. 

~Geten❄-Of course he’s number one at hiding how he feels about you. Or maybe more along the line of being a total Tsundere, but believe me he loves you. If that means celebrating this holiday with you then he’s willing to endure it. His grumpy face is getting harder and harder to hide from you. Sometimes you can just barely catch a glimpse of his content smile while you guys build a snowman together. Wanna have some real fun with him? Challenge him to a snow building competition. With his quirk at play you’ll surely lose no matter what, but isn’t it fun to see him bragging his ass off about how he ran circles around your ‘shitty snow project’? 

~Slice💋-She doesn’t hate the holiday, but she DESPISES the cold weather. A lot of her clothes are shorter and sexier by far. Summer is her number one time of the year. Besides, winter dries her skin out, and she hates being under wraps of a thick jacket etc. She can’t even wear her open toed heels!!! Besides that, she’s down for celebrating indoors if you want to. Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and a few make-out sessions are her forte. That’s the best way to do Christmas in her opinion

~Nine🌪-Bake cookies? Sure. Volunteer at shelters? Absolutely. Hang lights around the house/apartment? Yes baby, anything for you. I mean Nine is a ‘yes’ man all year round, but he’s especially willing to agree to things during this time of year. He’s completely whipped for you and there’s nothing wrong with that. He celebrates however you’d like him to do so. There is just one thing he wants to do that he suggested first and that’s either driving slowly through fancy neighborhoods to see their lights up, or going to a Christmas themed petting zoo and feeding carrots to the reindeer. Let’s say he’s a child at heart during this time of year

~Chimera🐺-Literally sees no purpose in celebrating it at all. He’ll do the stuff you want but he’s going to complain the whole way. The only thing he’s big on is saving up his cash and getting you something. The only thing that matters to him is making you happy during the entirety of your relationship (which he hopes is the rest of your lives together). The rest of the stuff he’s just grumbling and putting up with so he can see your smile. 

~Mummy🥋-Christmas? For what? Well okay then, if you say so. Really doesn’t get the point but hey, why not. He’s got nothing better to do. He’s never really celebrated it, His family never really celebrated it either so he’s a little interested in how you get down for it. His favorite thing he developed was this odd present wrapping competition with you. You should already know how good he is at wrapping things due to his quirk (I’m sure he’s shown you how good he is at binding and wrapping stuff before). Add a little competition into anything and he’s ready to do it. Baking competition, Caroling competition, Decorating competition. He’ll even challenge you to who can cuddle each other better. Whatever floats his boat I guess lol

~Gentle Criminal☕-He wants to travel during the holidays with you and he wants to vlog it all. Only if you’re okay with it of course! If you give him the ‘okay’ then he’s whisking you away somewhere overseas for a more extravagant vacation. He ends up spending so much time with you and having so much fun that he stop recording like 3 days in. His reasoning behind travelling is that snow must be so much more fun elsewhere, so of course the rest of the holidays must be as well. In all reality he just wants to make sure you have a fun Christmas. Travelling during it and experiencing different places and cultures are a fun new way to experience the holiday. 

~La Brava📸-Handy with the tech, but mostly with the camera. She amasses an entire compilation of you throughout the day and she’ll stay up all night stitching it together. The day after Christmas comes and she sits you down on the couch to watch it with her. Honestly she’s the sweetest and most dedicated partner that anyone could ask for. The way she treats you makes you thankful not just for spending Christmas with her, but for spending any day of the year with her. 

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

I Just Want My Heart Back: Sam Winchester x Reader

A/N: Hello friends! Well, I thought it was time to update my Supernatural masterlist since I’ve been writing so much for Marvel and Harry Potter. It’s been way too long since I wrote something that wasn’t holiday related for Supernatural and after talking to a very good friend, I came up with this! 

BIG shoutout to @calaofnoldor because she gave some wonderful little nudges and suggestions for this and I’m quite proud of how quickly I put this together. The title for this was her idea, as well as this GIF so thank you lovely for all your help!

Warnings: Angst, swearing, breakup, jealous!Sam, mentions of sex, boobs (yep that’s a warning lol) and implied sex but nothing too filthy cause y’all know that’s not how I roll (and I want y’all to use your imaginations too ;))

Word Count: 4,383 

Supernatural Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Tag lists requests are OPEN as well as my inbox!

*Italics are flashbacks and POV*

-Monique

“I don’t think this is working out,” Sam says, coming to you one day after a hunt gone bad.

“What isn’t working out?” You ask, looking up to the taller Winchester.

“Us, you and me. You living and working with us. All of it.” He says, refusing to make eye contact.

“What? What do you mean it’s not working out? What’s the problem? I’ve been living with you and Dean for the last two years! Why is there suddenly an issue?” You question.

“Well lately, (Y/N) you’ve been really reckless on these hunts we’ve been going on,” he answers, still not looking at you.

“What? Reckless? I’m a hunter, Sam. I take chances just like you and Dean do and they don’t always go as planned, like today.”

“Exactly, that was really stupid of you to go in that warehouse by yourself,” he says as you’re taken back to the events of the day.

“Alright, Sam, you and I will scout out the warehouse, see if we come across any vics. (Y/N) I need you to be on the lookout and alert us if someone’s coming,” Dean said, with Sam next to him, guns aimed and ready to fire. But they looked to you and you were nowhere to be found.

“(Y/N)?” Dean whisper yells for you.

“Dean!” Sam says, panic filling his voice. The youngest brother pointed in the direction of where he was looking straight ahead, seeing you running inside the warehouse.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yells as he and Sam run after you.

You were too far ahead to hear them running after you until it was too late. An entire pack of vampires had rushed you, trying desperately to sink their teeth into you. A good dozen or more were surrounding you and you began swinging, taking your knife to slice off the heads of the monsters as they grew too close. Screams of the victims could be heard as you fought hard, soon realizing you went alone. Just as one vamp lost its head, another was right behind you and sank its teeth into your shoulder. You scream out in agony; the venom was quickly spreading through your body.

“(Y/N)!” Sam yells to you, watching as you fall to the ground; the pain bringing you to your knees.

“Sam, we can’t stop, there are too many vamps out here!”

“She’s going to turn into one of them if we don’t help her, Dean!”

“Cas! If you can hear us, get your feathery ass down here and save (Y/N)!” Dean yells and then, a fluttering of wings came down in front of you.

“Hello (Y/N), let me take a look at you,” Cas says, kneeling beside you and carefully moving your collar of your shirt away from where you were a bit. You hiss out in pain as the wound was now exposed to the air around you.

“Alright (Y/N) luckily I was able to get here just in time before it got too bad so I can heal you enough now to transport you back to the Bunker but I’ll have to extract the venom from you later. okay?” Cas explained.

“Just, do it!” You cry and a blinding light flashed around you, causing you to lose your sight for just a moment but the sound of vamps being killed was the last thing you heard.

 “Alright, I admit, that wasn’t the best decision I could’ve come up with but I’m okay!”

“Yeah, but today wasn’t the first time you got hurt really bad on a hunt!” Sam yelled, suddenly making himself seem even bigger than he already was.

“What are you saying, Sam? You want me to leave?”

“Yes. I can’t keep worrying about you getting hurt because you’re too damn stubborn to listen to a damn thing Dean or I tell you! We’re more experienced hunters, (Y/N), we know what’s safe and what’s not. We can’t that burden over our heads,” He says.

You felt the tears brimming to the surface of your eyes but with the words he just spoke, you couldn’t let him see you upset.

“Alright, um, I’ll go pack my things and be out of your way.” You say, brushing past your now ex-boyfriend, but making sure to hit him hard as you did so.

When you reached your room, a photo of you and Sam sat on the end-table beside your bed, the smiling faces just mocking you. Grabbing the frame, you throw it across the room and scream at the broken glass now scattered across the floor.

“Fuck you, Sam Winchester!” You yell, hoping to anyone that he was listening.

You and Sam had always been close and just recently started dating. Sure, it was challenging but you thought since you were in the business too, it would be easier to work out any differences you may face; you were clearly mistaken. Taking a duffel bag from out of your closet, you throw all your clothes and toiletries inside, packing up furiously. When you were sure you had everything, you find a scratch piece of paper and write up a note for Dean. You and he were close too; he was like your older brother.

 Dean,

I am so sorry to be writing you this letter but I’ve been informed that I should not be living or hunting with you and Sam anymore. Apparently, I am a burden to you guys and you don’t want to have to worry about my well-being on every case. I guess I am just like you though; stubborn as a mule. I thought that was a good thing but according to Sam, it’s not. I thought he and I could work through anything because I became a hunter too, but I was wrong about that, too.

I’m not sure where he and I went wrong, but today was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I love him, Dean, I really do, but I guess he doesn’t love me enough to keep fighting for a relationship with me. I have a friend who’s a hunter who offered a place for me to stay and is willing to teach me new skills to improve myself as a hunter and who knows, maybe by then, Sam will actually want me around as a partner.

I’m going to miss eating greasy burgers and staying in cheap motels and watching Western’s with you but this is for the best. I can’t be around someone who doesn’t want me around and Sam has made that very clear that he doesn’t care about me anymore.

Here’s my address of where I’ll be staying at for a while; just don’t tell Sam where I’m at. I need to grieve the loss of one of the best things that have ever happened to me. I wish him well though, please tell him that.

I hope to stay in touch with you; you’ve always been like a big brother to me. I love you Dean and I’ll call you when I get to my new home.

Love, (Y/N)

Folding up the paper, you grab your bag and your keys for your car. Walking past Dean’s room, you slide the letter under his door and knock on it, before rushing towards the stairs out when you heard Sam calling for Dean.

“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asks when he opens his door, noticing the note in front of him.

“I think I found a case for us to work. What’s that?” Sam said, looking at the paper in his brothers’ hand. Just then, the sound of a vehicle starting and driving away interrupted them.

“Who’s leaving?” Dean asked, walking out to the War Room; Sam remaining silent. “What?”

Sam remained quiet for a while until Dean starting growing angry.

“(Y/N) left,” Sam finally said.

“What? What do you mean, (Y/N) left?” Dean asked, still furious with his little brother.

“Where did she go, Sam?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, avoiding the conversation he just had with (Y/N).

Just then, Dean remembered the letter that was on his bedroom floor. He reached for it from his back pocket and opened it.

Sam watched as Dean’s eyes bounced back and forth across the page; he was starting to feel guilty.

“You told her to leave?” Dean asked, in a calm voice but Sam didn’t peak.

“Answer me, Sammy! Did you tell (Y/N) to leave?!” Dean’s voice escalated.

“Yes,” Sam simply answered.

“Great, you know she’s gone, right? She said we see her as a burden? Did-did you tell her that?!”

“Yes,”

“Oh my God, Sam! That’s just great! You know she was the best thing that ever happened to you and you just push her away like that? Why?”

“She was always getting hurt, Dean? What was I supposed to do? Tell her she was doing a good job at constantly getting hurt?” Sam yelled back to his brother.

“Yes! She was stubborn like we are but she was willing to become a hunter just so she could be with you, Sammy! She loved your dumb ass and what, because she got hurt all the time, you stopped loving her?”

“No, I-I never said I don’t love her anymore,”

“Well, she thinks you don’t love her! And you know what else she said in this letter? She said she needs time to grieve the best thing that ever happened to her!”

Sam was quiet for a minute, letting his brothers’ words sink in. The girl he was in love with, was gone forever, all because he hated how stubborn she was and how she never listened. She was just like him and that bothered him. He didn’t want her to be like him, so broken and hurt, but she was also good. She was beautiful and had a positive outlook on life; always bringing happiness to the brothers when they were down. She was young and full of life, always caring about everyone else before herself and maybe that was why she always got hurt. But she loved Sam and he couldn’t understand why, but he felt lucky to have her. Maybe he was overreacting; he got hurt a lot too. It was part of the job to get hurt saving people’s lives and not everyone could do it but (Y/N)? She was good at it because she cared for people so much, way more than he or Dean even could.

“Did she say where she was going?” Sam suddenly asks, growing worried about where she had gone.

“She did, but she doesn’t want you to know. You really hurt her, Sam,” Dean said.

“I know, I fucked up bad. I thought if she wasn’t here anymore, that she couldn’t get hurt, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about her so much. At least, if she went away, she would be safe, but I don’t even know that to be true,” Sam confesses.

“Your plan just completely backfired on you,”

“Yeah, I made things worse, and for what?”

“Because I thought this was the best way to protect her and when she got hurt, Dean, she was almost always near death. I-I couldn’t stand seeing her like that because I knew there was a better way but she always had to go down the harder and more painful path.”

“Yeah, and you know why she did that?” Dean asked.

“Why?”

“Because she was a Winchester. She was stubborn and hard-headed but she is a fighter and she always believed in the best in people. And what did you do? You tried to penalize her for it,” Dean said.

“I know, I really fucked up here. I gotta try and find her, Dean. Tell her I was wrong,” Sam said, going to grab keys for one of the vehicles the brothers owned.

“Dude, she doesn’t want to see you,” Dean reminded him of the letter.

“Well, she didn’t leave that long ago. She couldn’t have gotten too far; I have to try,” Sam argued back.

“Want me to go with you?” Dean asked but Sam shook his head.

“I need you to stay here just in case she comes back home,” Sam says before realizing the Bunker wasn’t (Y/N)’s home anymore. “Just stay here.”

Sam grabbed a jacket and his phone before rushing off to the garage and jumping in behind the wheel of a car. Just before he sped away, Dean came out to the garage with a set of keys in his hands.

“Here,” he said, tossing the keys to Sam.

“Baby? You’re letting me take her?” Sam questioned, surprised that his brother trusted him with his most prized possession.

“Yeah, she’s pretty reliable and will get you where you need to go. Plus, (Y/N) loves her. If you do end up catching up with her, the least you can do is show up in a good-looking car,” Dean smirked as Sam threw the other keys back to him. 

Throwing the car into drive, Sam sped out of the garage, desperate to find (Y/N) and hoping he wasn’t too far behind her. He wanted to apologize to her, tell her he still loved her, and was only speaking out of frustration. Of course, he wanted her to stay and keep hunting with him and Dean but he worried about her a lot, and seeing her hurt all the time, wasn’t good for anyone. Maybe he was being selfish but he thought he was doing the right thing for everyone when he really was hurting the one person who meant the most to him. He pushed the gas pedal down as hard as he could, not caring about the speed limits, and looking around to see if her vehicle had stopped anywhere, as his mind kept wandering off to the letter she left for Dean. Why didn’t she leave one for him? Did he hurt her that bad? 

Sam’s POV

Damnit, I shouldn’t have told her to go and now, I can’t find her. What if I do find her and she doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore? She easily could tell me to go to hell; I mean I did that already but it would be worse hearing it from her. Would she ever let me explain where I was coming from? If she didn’t, I don’t think I would blame her; I wouldn’t let me explain. I hadn’t realized how long I had been driving for but it was starting to get dark. My speed had decreased drastically as I figured I should pull over and rest for the night. It’d be no good for me driving at night when I was this upset over the whole situation. Maybe this still made me seem selfish but I didn’t want to end up dead before I got to her. Seeing a small bar off the side of the road, I go to pull into the parking lot, searching for (Y/N)’s car just in case she had done the same as me. 

Getting out of the car, I lock Baby up and head inside, anxious to see if (Y/N) was there. Looking around the room, I’m met with a bunch of unfamiliar faces. I walk to the bar and order a shot of whiskey. The liquid burned as it went down my throat and temporarily made me feel better but that feeling went away quickly. Just as I was about to order my next shot, I look over out of the corner of my right eye and see that familiar face; the one who had been driving me insane. 

She was sitting at a booth with some guy who couldn’t keep his hands off of her but she didn’t seem to mind. Was she crazy?! This guy is disgusting! How could she be okay with him touching her? I’m the only one who is allowed to touch her. Wait, no, I can’t think like that; I’m the one who broke up with her. But did she have to be looking at him with those big (y/e/c) eyes? And that perfect smile? She used to look at me like that all the time and now? My last memory of her was the look of pure sadness and somber; like I just kicked a puppy or something. No, I just broke her heart. Alright, I hate myself but I need to do something about it instead of just sitting here and watching her fall all over some random guy. I may regret this later but I figure I should go with it and see what happens.

“Hey baby, there you are. I was starting to worry about you,” I say, pulling a chair over to sit on the opposite side of where her “date” was. She looked over at me with a look of disgust but my jealous side told me I was doing the right thing. 

“Go away, I don’t want to talk to you,” she says, turning back to the other guy, so I did the next best thing I thought to do. I stand up and wrap an arm around her waist, hoisting her over my shoulder. She screamed and started cussing me out, causing everyone to look at us. 

“Just our honeymoon is all, she’s a bit nervous,” I lied, looking at the bartender who just nodded his head and smirked; dirty old man. Walking back out to Baby, (Y/N) hits my back several times, telling me I must’ve lost my mind to be treating her like this and she is going to fucking scream when I finally let her down. 

“(Y/N) please, just let me explain,” I say, finally setting her down but still holding onto her arm.

“Why should I Sam? You made it very clear that we were over and that I was a burden to you; why can’t you just let me go? I just want my heart back because you destroyed it,” She says trying to wiggle free from my grasp.

“I can’t let you go,” I say, letting her out of my hold.

“You just did a few hours ago!” She says, growing frustrated with me.

“I didn’t mean anything I said back then; I’m so sorry,” I try to reason with her but I can tell she’s not buying it. 

“Why even say it then?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes at me. 

“I was talking out of my frustration. I hate seeing get hurt; you’ve almost died more than once. I hate that you’re just as much a Winchester as Dean and I are; just as stubborn. But you’re a damn good hunter and we’ve gotten better at this job because of you. I can’t imagine not having you hunt with us anymore; you’re too damn important to me now. I want you to stay; I need you to stay.”

She was quiet for a minute then spoke up, “you told me I was a burden to you, Sam. Do you know how that made me feel? You made me think you didn’t love me anymore. So when you told me to leave, I couldn’t fathom the words that were coming from your mouth. I sat in my car about a mile outside the Bunker and balled my eyes out. Do you not realize what you mean to me? I love you, Sam, but you just tossed me aside like I was nothing.” 

“That wasn’t my intention, (Y/N)! I-I thought I was protecting you!” I yell.

“Okay you really don’t want to be yelling at me right now when you’re already on thin ice here, Winchester,” she warns and I apologize. 

“I promise, that wasn’t what I meant to do. I thought I was protecting you by telling you, you were a burden on us. I knew that if I asked you not to hunt with us for a while, you’d just argue with me about why that’s not fair, so I figured if I told you that it was becoming too difficult for us to always care for you, that you would sit back yourself. And then it spiraled out of control from there and I kept up with the act that I didn’t care about you because I had to make you believe that you weren’t safe hunting. I never told you I didn’t love you; I can’t believe you thought that. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone else and I know that’s a lot to hear because we’ve only really been dating for a short time but we started off as friends first and I knew from that very first day you came to us for help on a case, that I loved you. And then when you told me you had feelings for me too, I was so happy because finally, here’s this amazing woman who understands the business because she does it herself and I love her. But I talked to Dean and he made me realize I probably made the biggest mistake of my life and I am so, so sorry. I only said everything I did because I cared too damn much about your well-being. And I know, it’s dumb and doesn’t make any sense but it’s the truth. I hope you can forgive me and we can go back to just being us. And I am so sorry you cried; I hate when you’re sad. But if you’ll let me, I want to make it up to you.” 

There was silence was settled between us for an agonizing amount of time before she did something I wasn’t expecting. She quickly closed the space between us and grabbed the back of my head to pull me into a kiss. Instantly, I grab onto her hips, holding her into place, while my lips let her know how much I truly missed her. I was growing tired of leaning over so I lifted her to my level, easily able to intensify the kiss. She held onto the back of my shirt like she was afraid she was dreaming and I would disappear at any minute, but I tried to convince her that I wasn’t going anywhere; I was too far invested in this. I broke the kiss for a minute, looking at the beautiful girl in my arms. 

“I have an idea,” I said, setting her down and unlocking the car. She watches me closely as I unlock the door she was standing closest to and open the door to her. 

“Get in,” I say. She does but doesn't understand what I was implying until I grabbed the bottom hemline of my shirt and lifted it over my head. When she realized what my idea was, she followed my lead, lifting her shirt over her head and threw it on the floor of the car. I duck down and make my way inside to the back seat, hovering over her as she lays across the seat. She looked up at me, never breaking eye contact until I kissed her again. My hands traveled down her body, and she reacted to my touch, back arching into me. She pulled away to remove her bra before attaching her lips to mine again. As more and more articles of clothing were being removed, she broke the silence for a minute.

“You know, Dean is going to kill us when he finds out we had sex back here.” 

I laugh, knowing she was telling the truth and thinking what my brother’s reaction was going to be.

“Well, he doesn’t have to know; we’ll get her cleaned before we go back to the Bunker,” I say, trying not to make a big deal out of what we had planned. 

“Oh, I don’t know, plus, how many times has he had sex back here?” She asked and I paused to think about it.

“You know, you’re probably right. I’m sure it’s been numerous times! Wanna just go check into that motel over there?” I suggest, throwing my head to the side to motion to the motel. 

“I mean, that’s tempting but equally as disgusting. You know how questionable those rooms are! If we’re going to have sex, I want it to be special!” She kept her stance on the topic. 

I sigh but realize she was right. I didn’t want to just sleep with her in the backseat of a car or at a dingy motel. As much as I was really wanting to go through with this, I figured we would have a much better time back at the Bunker. 

“Alright, how about we just make out like some crazy teenagers for now and save the rest for later,” I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows at her. She laughs for a moment before reaching down to pick her bra back up but I stopped her.

“Why don’t you just leave that off for now,” I say, eyes trailing down to ger exposed chest before a devilish grin made its way across my face. Her cheeks redden but she throws the bra back and brings me back for another kiss, my hands traveling their way over each breast, savoring the way her skin felt against mine. I missed this feeling; having her with me and exploring every part of each other. And not just for a day or just to ‘scratch an itch,’ but because we loved one another and I needed her to know just how vital she was to my life. Without her, I cannot go on; I know this from experience so I knew I needed to do whatever it took to make her realize that I loved her. 

And after a while and we began our journey home, my hand in hers as she sang along to the cassette tapes Dean had, I knew I finally found the happiness that I thought I couldn’t find because of the life I chose to lead and a life I prayed would never change. It may have been selfish to desire a happiness such as this but I also know I struggled to find peace so now that I have it, it’s like a precious artifact that I will fight to protect at all costs, no matter the risk to my own life, because that I what you do when you love someone. 

Taglist: @tloveswriting @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @440mxs-wife @angeredcrow @baby1967impala @suckmysupernatural @slutforfics @sam-winchester-admiration-league @awesomesusiebstuff @hobby27 @spnjediavenger @polina-93 @simpleb00x​

[thedeevirus]

Nygmobblepot Ficlet; ‘The Direct Approach’

And now for a break in your holiday cheer; an angsty Nygmobblepot fic featuring Batman. Hope you all enjoy! ***

The candles flickered and Oswald felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. On the wall in front of him loomed a foreboding silhouette.

‘Let me guess’, Oswald said, not turning around, ‘He’s not coming. You couldn’t have shown up to tell me that any sooner?’

‘Where’s Riddler?’ the dark figure asked quietly.

Oswald took a sip of whiskey to moisten his throat. Even though he and the so-called Batman had an arrangement, a truce of sorts, the vigilante remained an intimidating figure. He was grateful he had given the staff the night off. The last thing he needed was more traumatised bouncers and waiters.

‘Merry Christmas to you too’, he replied, ‘Help yourself, there’s plenty’.

Batman didn’t even seem to notice the lavish (albeit increasingly cold) feast laid out in front of Oswald as he walked into the Penguin’s line of view. Oswald avoided Batman’s hard stare and distracted himself by mentally listing the items displayed on the table; a turkey with stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce-

‘Where. Is. Riddler?’

‘I. Heard. You. The. First. Time’, Oswald said, irritated at Batman’s theatrics, ‘He’s exactly where he promised me that he wouldn’t be, at the exact time he promised he would be here enjoying this little dinner I spent all afternoon preparing’.

He scowled at the table. Okay his personal chef had prepared it but Oswald had paid him handsomely for the privilege and he had set the table himself. Fat lot of good it had done. They had only started celebrating Christmas at Ed’s suggestion in the first place. Oswald hadn’t done it since his mother had passed years ago. She had insisted on putting up a tree every year. Despite being raised Jewish, she had loved the lights, proclaiming, ‘So twinkly! So beautiful! Like a storybook!’ Another person he loved missing from the table. Oswald’s frustration finally gave him the courage to glare at Batman directly.

‘Couldn’t you have taken one night off?!’

‘He’s taken hostages’.

‘Nobody I know’, Oswald shrugged, ‘Try again’.

 Batman’s eyes lingered on the tall ice sculpture Oswald had selected as a centrepiece for the table. The carved leaping penguin’s eyes seemed to widen under the ‘Dark Knight’s’ threatening glare and the long neck (already melting) suddenly seemed very fragile and the head very heavy. Batman’s leathery fists tightened.

 ‘Look, can we at least discuss this civilly?’ Oswald said, half rising as he understood the threat, ‘I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. ‘Tis the season of goodwill after all’.

‘What do you want?’ Batman asked, folding his arms.

‘I’ll tell you where Ed is, you get the hostages then you let him go’, Oswald said, ‘He comes here to me and you leave us alone. A Christmas amnesty’.

 ‘Not both of you’.

 ‘Then no deal’, Oswald sniffed haughtily, even as his mind raced to come up with an alternative solution, ‘I’m sure he’s sent you one of his envelopes so you’d better get deciphering. Before it’s too late’.

Batman threw something onto the table. A blackened piece of card. Oswald picked it up and could just about make out the GCPD address on it written in Ed’s handwriting. Oswald’s heart sank.

 ‘It was disguised as a Christmas bonus paycheque. Two officers are in the hospital. I can’t ignore this’.

 Oswald gritted his teeth. It was part of their deal. Oswald would not target the GCPD and Batman would turn a blind eye to some of his ‘less savoury’ activities. Oswald had made Ed promise to avoid the GCPD as well, omitting the part about Batman and instead emphasising the logic of such a position. Why attract that level of attention? Why pain a target on your back? It had taken a long conversation but Ed had finally promised Oswald that he wouldn’t target the GCPD. He had promised. Oswald dropped his gaze and inadvertently caught sight of Ed’s empty chair at the table. Just like he had promised he would never miss another dinner.

 Batman extended a hand for the card and Oswald exploded, flinging it at him.

 ‘And whose fault is that?! Up until you started lurking on rooftops, he was stable! Oh fine maybe not ‘stable’ but at least he listened to me! Kept things low key! But now beating you is all he cares about!’

 ‘I don’t have time for his games’, Batman growled dismissively.

 Oswald threw his whiskey glass at the wall. It shattered, casting crystalline fragments around like Christmas confetti. Batman did not react which only made Oswald angrier.

 ‘You think I haven’t told him that?! You and I both know there are far worse things for you to occupy yourself with now instead of Ed. Gotham was always crazy but ever since you flew back into town, it’s gotten worse than ever!’

 Oswald’s words rang throughout the Iceberg Lounge. He stiffened, realising what he had just admitted. He bit his tongue, furious that he had left his ace in the hole slip out but conscious that the only move was to keep going.

 ‘Oh, do I detect surprise beneath the mask?’ he teased with a confidence he did not feel, ‘Yes. I know who you really are. Only one person would have enough money to waste on nonsense like this. And be crazy enough to waste it on Gotham’.

 Oswald knew he was bluffing. Batman’s face (what he could see of it) had remained completely impassive. He might as well have been made of stone. Oswald knew from experience that his punches certainly felt like it.

 ‘You seem sure of your theory’, Batman said.

 The corner of his mouth had kinked. Oswald didn’t know if it was a smile or not. He also didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

 Oswald laughed bitterly.

 ‘Don’t worry, I know nobody will ever believe me. I’m not like Ed. I have nothing to prove and I know when I’m outgunned. Besides, if you are who I think you are, I always had a soft spot for you. We’re both orphans after all. Though we seem to have coped with that in drastically different ways’.

Batman’s ‘smile’ vanished.

 ‘You said you could keep Nygma under control’, he said, the barest hint of accusation in his tone.

 Oswald was surprised to feel shame filling the pit of his stomach at Batman’s disappointed air. He filled another glass with whiskey and knocked it back in one swig. The damned holidays always made him sentimental.

 ‘I used to be able to’, he said quietly, ‘He was taking his medication and we set time aside for date…’ He sniffed hard and chuckled. ‘Why am I even telling you this? It’s not like you care’.

‘I care about innocent people getting hurt. Maybe assuming you would too is giving you too much credit but you obviously care about Nygma. Get him to stop these games and he gets the same deal you do’.

 Oswald shook his head, looking defeated.

‘I haven’t told him about our little arrangement. He’ll never agree to help you. And he won’t stop. It’s who he is. He’s a genius. He’s the Riddler’.

‘Who hasn’t figured out you’re working with me’.

Oswald slammed the glass down, stung by the taunt. And by his own dishonesty. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ed! It was just…easier to be flexible. You had to be practical in this town! There were rules! At least there used to be. Oswald still had rules.

‘Only because he trusts me! I can’t betray him! I won’t!’

 Oswald bit his lip. His voice had cracked treacherously. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. He needed to regain control. Needed to maintain his dignity.

 ‘If you love him, you need to put his needs before your own. He needs help’.

 Oswald turned away. His eyes were moist. He cursed his decision to only use the table candles for illumination. He knew now how Ed could hate Batman so much. Hate him being right.

 ‘You save people’, Oswald said though gritted teeth, ‘Can you save him?’

 ‘He belongs in Arkham’.

The tone was gentler than Oswald knew he deserved but he couldn’t prevent a shuddering sigh from escaping his mouth. Hearing the same thought that had been building and building for weeks spoken aloud was jarring. Was Batman telepathic? There were stranger things in Gotham.

Oswald’s artificial eye ached. It always did when he was stressed and it and it had been getting worse. Just like Ed’s delusions had been getting worse. The obsessions, hallucinations, irritability, lack of self-care, insomnia… Oswald had found his meds in the trash that morning. Unopened for the last two weeks. Ed had sworn he had been taking them. It turned out they were both liars. Oswald looked at Batman and realised with horror that Batman was waiting for Oswald’s response. For his permission. And Oswald’s skin crawled at the relief he felt.

 ‘Is it true that y-that the Wayne Foundation has changed things there?’ Oswald asked.

 He locked eyes with Batman. Searching them. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for honesty or the opposite. He had the awful feeling he was just looking for some way out. Something to help him do what he had to. He loved Ed. He did. But he wasn’t what Ed needed right now.

 ‘Yes’.

 Oswald could endure Ed’s resentment. Even his hate. He had been on the receiving end before. He could do it again. He would do it a thousand times as long as Ed was safe. His artificial eye impossibly pulsed in its socket. He struggled to stop his eye twitching.

 ‘Do you trust the people there?’

‘Yes’.

‘And-and you promise he won’t get hurt? I know he’ll try to hurt you but he’s not a fighter and you know that so please don’t-‘

 Batman held up a gloved hand. Oswald blinked hard as the metallic knuckles on the material caught the light.

‘I promise I won’t hurt him’, Batman said.

 Oswald was startled to find he believed it. And heartbroken that he could believe that more than anything Ed had said recently.

He sat back down in his chair, both hands clasped around his now empty glass.

‘He’s hiding in the old Gotham Gazette office in The Narrows’, Oswald said robotically, ‘There are tripwires at the entrance and the vents are mined but the passcode to his bunker is 1690. Apparently, it’s when the first issue of Publick Occurrences was published‘.

 Batman lifted his arm and began to input what Oswald assumed were coordinates into a hidden compartment in the suit. There was an affirmative beep. To Oswald it sounded like a death knell. He leant down hard on his knees. They were shaking.

‘He’ll know you told me’, Batman said.

 Oswald sneered at the subtle concern in Batman’s voice. Oh now he cared?! How touching. Nobody else did.

‘How? You going to tell him?’

‘No’.

‘Then he’ll just assume you figured it out’, Oswald shrugged savagely, ‘He always says you’re the world’s greatest detective. High praise. Though I’m sure some of those fancy toys give you an edge’.

‘He doesn’t share your theory about who I really am?’

 ‘The answer’s too obvious for him to accept. The one time I told him about it, he thought I was making a joke at his expense. Now get out of here. He gets antsy when he thinks he’s being ignored and I have a mess to clean up’.

 Oswald turned away, signalling that the exchange was over. He leant his elbows on the table, feeling tired and drained.

‘I’ll arrange visitation rights for you’.

 ‘I’m sure you’ll come up with some way for me to return the favour’, Oswald snarled, ‘Now for the last time, get out’.

 Why couldn’t Batman just leave him alone?! What else did he expect Oswald to do?! Wasn’t Ed enough for him?! The only person Oswald cared about?! Did he want him gift wrapped?!

 ‘No need. I know how it feels to miss someone on Christmas’.

 Oswald did not reply and he did not try to catch Batman leaving as he usually did. There was no point.

 The sympathy in Batman’s words should have infuriated him. Batman’s audacity should have had him reaching for the umbrella gun concealed beneath the table. He should have been wondering if his theory about the vigilante’s true identity was indeed correct. 

But he was just too damn tired.

He wanted another drink. He wanted to go to bed and just pass out. He wanted to have never made the stupid dinner in the first place. He wanted Ed. The Ed he loved back.  He needed him here. With him.

 But he had never gotten what he wanted for Christmas.

[icollectyoursins]

Gift Headcanons Melone x Reader

Look. I know the holidays have just passed, but I am unashamedly a SIMP for all of La Squadra and I wanna give them gifts. I just love them. So here, have some (mostly) tender gift giving and receiving for da boyz. I’m excluding Sorbet and Gelato because I know next to nothing about them, sorry!

This one was very hard to keep this one SFW, but I tried!

Risotto 

Prosciutto

Pesci

Illuso

Formaggio

Ghiaccio

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Mostly SFW, second bit is light NSFW, no sex, but lingerie is involved.

Word Count: 1559

Giving:

Melone is uh... gross, so most of his gifts are sort of sexual, even if you don’t know it (like very large heels). That being said, he does give some sweet gifts every now and then! It’s always something you’ve been eying for a while or boasting about and 100% a pleasant surprise that makes the nasty things so worth it.

He loves getting you jewelry! Anything from earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, body piercings, body jewelry that wraps around you. He just loves making you shine! Or, he’ll impress you with fancy drinks in ridiculous bottles (looking at you Crystal Head Vodka), weird things that he can enjoy with you and then use to decorate the house with. Also (unsurprisingly) lingerie. Any kind that looks good on you he will get it.

He’s honestly a mix of both private and open when giving gifts. You’re together and close, but not 100% alone. He wants a few people to see how happy you two are.

     You sat on the couch with a phone in one hand scrolling through social media while the other idly rubbed circles into Melone’s back. He was hunched over his computer, typing various commands with nimble fingers. It had been so far into the relationship at this point that you didn’t even bother asking what he was doing. You were just there to make sure he didn’t mess up his back too much.

     Suddenly, he sat up, stretching out his back before looking over to you, head still tilted back slightly. He smiled in a way that would have been sweet if it wasn’t Melone, but you got the message. You think.

     “I have something for you, mio caro/mia cara. Would you like it?” He purred. There was something about the sparkle in his pretty blue/green eyes that made you curious and hesitant at the same time.

     “That depends. Am I going to like it?” You teased, letting out a light chuckle which he returned.

     “Of course!” He said, voice full of false defensiveness. “When have I ever given you something you didn’t like?”

     “Do you want a list? I can give you a list!” He laughed again, getting off the couch, waving his hand dismissively at you.

     “No, no need for a list. Just stay where you are, I’ll be back.” Melone kissed the top of your head as he passed behind you. “Oh, and close your eyes.”

     You couldn’t even get out a final quip or protest. He was through the doorway with a coy wink and a smile. You rolled your eyes before closing them, waiting patiently for him to return, though you did look at your phone one time while waiting. What can you say? He took a little longer than you expected and so you had some extra time!

     Finally, he came back with two gifts in hand. One long, slender gift bag which you assumed had some kind of alcohol in it and the other was a thin box wrapped in ribbon. The grin on his face said that this was either innocent, harmless gifts, or something a little on the more devious side. You couldn’t quite tell.

     He swiftly made his way back to the couch, placing the box in your hand while he began showing off the mystery contents of the bag. With slow elegance, he pulled out a rather odd and sensual liquor bottle. He presents it to you on an open palm. From the clearness, you could tell that it was probably vodka or something like that. The bottle was a glass-blown pinup of a woman with her arms folded over her head. Definitely vodka. Only people who made vodka would be this extra. And only Melone would buy a bottle of a naked woman.

     The wicked grin on his face told you that he was very proud of this piece. You laughed light-heartedly, examining the bottle in your hands.

     “Well, it’s certainly unusual!” You mused. “As long as the drink is good, I don’t care!” He grinned, licking his lips as his eyes drifted down to the box. This was his favourite part of tonight. Unless something else were to happen, but that was entirely up to you. 

     Setting the bottle down on the coffee table you moved on, pulling the bow apart with ease. Taking the lid off revealed a thin layer of tissue paper with holographic dots on it, how cute. Underneath was-

     “Melone!” You shrieked. He only chuckled. 

     “There’s more than that, amor mio/amore mio. Here, let me!” He reached it, pulling out a beautiful, delicate gold chain that looked as though it wrapped around your torso with smaller chains crossing over your chest. There was a matching bottom too, with glittering gold hanging off what would be your hips if you were wearing it.

     “Oh, Melone!” Ah, there it was, that wonderful joy only he could bring out. Like music to his ears! “They’re beautiful, thank you so much!”

     He swiftly caught you in a hug, pulling you close to him before he brought your face up to his, pulling you into a passionate kiss that left you breathless. Everyone around you who was staring turned away, giving you a little bit of privacy.

Receiving:

Oh my god, does this man love being spoiled. Melone will love pretty much anything you give him. Honestly, probably was sugar baby at some point (or maybe he’s yours), but yeah, happy receiving lots and lots of gifts from you.

I can see him enjoying sweet things with whipped cream and strawberries, lots of sparkly things and shiny things. Basically, anything he would get you, he would also enjoy receiving. If it’s something you can use erm... together *wink wink* he is, like, basically drooling already.

Does not care how you give him the gift, though if you have the guts to give him that kind of gift in front of people, he will absolutely feel something stir in him. But for the most part, he’s happy with anything.

     You adjusted your “outfit” in the mirror while you were waiting for Melone to find your little treasure hunt. It wasn’t much, just a few small notes hinting towards something more and more as he got closer.

     It started at the door with a cookie and a note telling him to follow the trail to his gift. Once he read it, he was excited in more ways than one. He followed the notes around the house. Some told him to do chores like fold the laundry to get to the bottom where the next clue was, or water the plants.

     He loved every minute of it, happily pairing each sock with its missing partner and smoothing out any creases in shirts. A sweet tune hummed from his chest while he sprayed each delicate flower, smelling the sweet scent until he got dizzy and feeling each leaf to make sure it was healthy before moving onto the next. It was agonizingly slow for both of you, though that was the point. If you were going to tease him all the way to the bedroom, then he was going to make you sit and wait.

     Melone’s eyes flicked up to the clock. He’d been there an hour already. Poor thing must be so tired waiting. But, he still has more chores to do, right? His suspicions were confirmed when he found another note, hidden in a succulent, telling him to grab something from the fridge.

     “Di molto! I wonder what that could be?” He asked the air sarcastically before practically skipping to the fridge where he found another slip of paper saying to look for something sweet and light. A hummed chuckle buzzed on his lips. “Hmm, sweet and light. Sweet and light. I wonder what that could be?”

     You rolled your eyes. The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were hidden in the bedroom, so you could hear every exaggerated word that he said. You scoffed, muttering out some kind of insult under your breath.

     “Sweet and- Ah! This will be perfect.” He mused, grabbing 2 things from the fridge. You hoped one of them wasn’t honey, but then again, who would keep honey in the fridge? Honestly, probably Melone. Not for any particular reason, just because!

     The door was closed with a joking hip jerk. He didn’t even bother looking for the next clues. He just made his way straight to the bedroom, calling out to you as he entered. You were nowhere to be found, much to his dismay. However, he did find the box you left for him on the bed.

     Eagerly, he tossed what was in his arms onto the bed, then the box lid as he plunged into the gift. His eyes grew wide as he pulled out a harness he’d only been dreaming about using for years. A sound of pleasure rolled through his body. That’s when you came out of your hiding spot, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

     “Oh, you spoil me, mio caro/mia cara!”

     “I know, just don’t get whipped cream on the bed. Or strawberry leaves.” Melone laughed darkly, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

     “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered against your lips before smashing into them gently. As far as he was concerned, he would do whatever you wanted after tonight!

-----

Translations:

mio caro/mia cara = my darling (masc and fem)

amor mio/amore mio = my love (masc and fem)

[hockeylvr59]

A Christmas Bride || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: I mentioned a Christmas wedding..so here’s a Christmas wedding. Shoutout to everyone who helped with details like nicknames, the dress, and everything else and to those ladies who let me use their names for bridesmaids. See ‘tagged/037′ for inspiration post and first dance song. 

Warnings: I honestly don’t think there’s anything here I need to warn you about. 

Word Count: 6,914 (~250 of which is a reading attributed to its author as mentioned)

~~~~~~

Sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV your fiance was driving, you took in the city lights of Calgary as they slowly disappeared into the rearview mirror. It was three days before Christmas and the Avs had just defeated the Flames on the road. Cale’s parents had left you behind to wait for their son, declaring that they would see you at home soon. When Cale appeared from behind the locker room doors, he was all smiles. With his arms wrapped around you, he’d kissed you softly and then asked if you wanted to go for a drive with him. 

“Well, you’re kinda my ride so I guess so…” You’d teased, leaning against Cale’s side as he took your hand and guided you to where the second car his parents had driven was parked. You had no idea where you were going, but you trusted that Cale did and just relaxed, his hand in yours over the center console as he drove, Christmas carols playing on the radio. 

You’d been on the road for about an hour when you saw Cale glancing over at you. 

“Hey sweetheart, do you trust me?” He asked. You made a face because of course you did, but you were confused as to why he was asking. 

“You know I do…” You simply replied. It was only then that Cale released your hand for a moment, opening one of the many small compartments in the vehicle to pull out something which he dropped onto your lap. 

“Put this on for me?” He requested and when you picked up the item you realized it was a blindfold. 

“Cale?” You murmured, even more confused now as to what was going on. 

“Just trust me and put it on okay?” He insisted. “I promise it’ll all make sense soon and that nothing is going to happen to you.” And because you trusted Cale with everything, you complied, pulling the blindfold over your eyes before leaning against the door again. Moments later Cale reached for your hand and you sat in darkness with him rubbing patterns over your palm just softly singing to the carols playing. About eight songs later you felt the vehicle stop and Cale squeezed your hand in his. 

“Go ahead and unbuckle and sit up.” He instructed. “But don’t touch the blindfold. I promise we’re almost there.” He added. You followed his directions as the sound of his car door slammed shut and then a blast of cold air hit you as your door opened. “Alright, sweetheart...come here.” Cale breathed, offering a hand out to help you from the car and onto your feet. Two more car doors slammed before his hand was taking yours again. 

“Alright. Just come with me. I promise I won’t let you trip. Just a short walk and then I swear you can take the blindfold off.” You were beyond confused and anxious, but the feeling of his hand was soothing as he indeed started guiding your steps. It was a little more than a short walk, but that was only a minor point and after three doors, an elevator ride, and just a few minutes, you were finally stopping, Cale’s hand falling to your hip. 

“Can I take this off now?” You pleaded softly and Cale’s chuckle filled your ears before his fingers drifted up to pull it off of your face. 

“Yes, but just look at me.” He teased, his features appearing across your vision in the dim space. 

“Where are we...what the hell is going on Cale?” You inquired next and Cale ran his fingers across the back of his neck before handing you a wrapped box. 

“Open this...it will explain everything,” Cale promised, his hands cupping your cheeks to pull you in for a kiss that you melted into, your brain swimming. “But I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Stealing one more kiss, Cale moved back through the door that was behind him, as you called his name trying to understand. 

Left alone, you panicked and immediately reached for a light switch. When the lights turned on and you turned around you couldn’t help but gasp. In front of you, off to the left was a jacuzzi tub and a few more steps into the room revealed a king-size bed tucked behind a dividing wall to the right. 

Running your fingers through your hair you made your way over to the bed and plopped down. Remembering the box in your other hand that Cale said would explain everything, you looked at it, quickly pulling off the envelope attached to the top. Inside was a letter and you felt yourself holding your breath as you started to read Cale’s familiar handwriting.

Y/N,

I’m pretty sure it was on our first date that I learned just how much you love Christmastime. And it wasn’t long after that before your friends and family were telling me about how you’ve always dreamed of a Christmas wedding. Watching you light up this time of year is one of my favorite things about you. 

I know being with me isn’t always easy, I know what my career has caused you to give up, will cause you to give up in the future. Yet through it all, you’ve stayed right by my side. I can’t express to you how much that means to me. 

When I proposed, I promised to make all of your dreams come true if you’d just let me make you my wife. 

But since that day I’ve watched you struggle. I’ve seen the pressure of supporting me and taking care of our home weigh on you. I’ve seen the tears you cry when the media is critical of my play or when people who have no business in our personal life butt in on social media. And I’ve seen you struggle to pick a date, decide on a venue for our wedding. In order to make things easier on me, you’ve been trying to wrap your head around a summer wedding, even though we both know that’s not what you want. 

So...without me rambling too much...I know you have questions. Likely, where am I and what the hell is going on? 

Where are you? The Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel in Banff, Alberta. 

What the hell is going on? Open the box now. 

Tossing the wrapping paper to the floor, you opened the box, pulling out a cotton robe from the tissue paper. Turning it over, you held it up, the words ‘Mrs. Makar’ staring back at you in a forest green script. Under that, in a similar deep red script, was ‘12.23.20’, and suddenly swallowing was a lot harder. Picking the letter up again you continued reading, tears forming quickly and streaming down your cheeks. 

I took note of tonight’s game against Calgary on the road from the moment the schedule was released. And it stayed in the back of my mind until that night at Gabe’s where Mel and Courtney grilled you about wedding planning and you came home and cried yourself to sleep. 

Y/N...it absolutely killed me to know that planning our wedding, one of the happiest days of our lives, was making you so upset. If you’ll recall, the next morning I told you to take a break and that it would all work out. 

That morning, I called my mom and your mom on the way to the rink and told them that I wanted to make this particular dream of yours come true. With both our families on board and a very limited date window I started making some calls and with a name drop or five, some luck, and a LOT of hard work, here we are. 

I suppose I should briefly apologize for my slight manipulation of you with insisting you go dress shopping, come up with your half of the guest list, and taste cakes with me but I hope all of that will be quickly forgiven when you see the results of my efforts. 

I love you Y/N and all I’ve ever wanted was to see you happy because from that first day on UMASS’s campus that’s all you’ve ever made me. 

So relax. Everything is taken care of. You just sit back and enjoy. 

Anxious and extremely excited,

Your soon-to-be husband

P.S. Text your mom when you pull yourself together so she can bring you your bag. 

P.P.S. Shower tonight. Breakfast will be brought at 7:30 with your hair and makeup artists arriving around 8:15. 

Cale was truly the absolute best guy on the planet and it all still felt completely surreal. Just yesterday you were stressing over how you were going to get through Christmas with everyone asking about wedding plans and now..now tomorrow you were actually getting married. 

A quick text to your mom and she was there, wrapping her arms around you after setting your bag on the bed. You hadn’t expected to see her until Cale’s first road trip after the holidays when you had plans to fly home and have a belated Christmas with your family. 

“This is really happening?” You found yourself questioning, still unable to shake the shock you were feeling. 

“Yeah, baby girl.” Your mom assured you. “You found yourself a pretty incredible man who would literally give you the moon if you asked for it.” Once again you were blown away by the weight of Cale’s love and though your eyes still watered, your smile was quickly growing. 

After your mom caught you up to date with a few more details, ones Cale’s letter hadn’t provided, she bid you goodnight and told you that she would be back for breakfast in the morning, urging you to try and get some sleep. 

Keeping in mind Cale’s advice to shower tonight, you quickly but carefully ran through an extensive beauty routine in the shower. Since you were still too anxious to sleep, you only quickly dried your body before moving to the jacuzzi tub. Tucked into the warm water with jets soothing your muscles you texted Cale, unable to help yourself. 

You’re insane and incredible and I love you so much. Also...I can’t wait for you to see the dress. xoxo Your Bride. 

You weren’t expecting a response, so you set your phone aside and just tried to relax knowing that morning was already creeping up on you. Feeling your skin start to prune, you finally climbed out, dried off, and crawled into bed. Though your mind wouldn’t stop racing, you did eventually drift off. 

___

The sound of your alarm going off pulled you from sleep and it took you a moment to remember where you were. Suddenly it hit you that you were getting married today and wave after wave of nerves crashed over you. It was an excited nervous but one that almost left you feeling dizzy all the same. 

Pulling yourself out of bed, you threw on some sweats, just in time for a knock to sound at your door. Moving over to it, you saw that it was your mom and you let her in, hugging her again. 

“Did you get any sleep?” She inquired a warm but nervous smile on her face as well. 

“A little.” You replied. “My mind won’t stop racing though.” You admitted. 

“You’re worried about all of the details…” Your mom mused. “I’m sure Cale’s note already told you this but relax and just enjoy your wedding day baby, Cale has everything under control and he didn’t forget anything. I have never seen a man so detail-oriented regarding his wedding before.” She laughed and it made you giggle as you fell even more in love with him. 

Any further discussion of your nerves was interrupted by the door again and this time it was in fact breakfast. Within minutes of its arrival, your best friends and bridesmaids arrived and wrapped you up in so many hugs, their joy infectious. Catching up with them over breakfast made your heart flutter because it had been too long since you’d seen them. 

“We need to find us men like Cale.” Your college roommate, Rachel, mused a wistful look in her eyes. 

“Good luck with that. He’s kind of one of a kind.” You smiled. “But I mean I can introduce you to his teammates, I think you’d get along well with Andre.” You teased, sending her a wink. 

Breakfast had included mimosas, which was working wonders to take the edge off of your anxiety, causing you to be your usual open and bubbly self. As you finished breakfast your bridesmaids disappeared to grab their own robes to change into as well as to grab their dresses. While they were gone you slipped into your robe as well, your mom already starting to tear up at that sight alone. 

As your bridesmaids returned, dress bags in hand, the hairstylist and makeup artist arrived. They both got to work on your mom, and you turned to your bridesmaids a curious look on your face. 

“So...I know I didn’t pick these dresses. Do I at least get to see them?” You asked. Each of your bridesmaids zipped open the dress bags revealing different style dresses in the same dark forest green color. 

“Cale suggested the color to us and then told us to use our best judgment.” Your childhood best friend, Anne, explained. “We think he was right on point but what do you think?” 

“I think I’m going to have some pretty hot bridesmaids to set up with my hubby’s teammates.” You joked. “I don’t know anything really about this wedding but I’m sure they’ll be perfect.” You added, taking a deep breath to calm the next wave of nerves. 

For the next few hours, you bs’ed with your girls while each, in turn, got their hair and makeup done. At some point, a photographer and a videographer arrived popping in and out of the suite. Before long it was your turn to sit in the chair, and when a mirror was handed to you when they were done, you almost burst into tears at the woman staring back at you, hardly believing that it was yourself. 

“Wow…” You whispered, letting out a shaky breath. 

“Cale isn’t going to know what hit him.” Your best friend from your major, Moni, declared. 

“Yeah...you look smoking hot Y/N.” Rachel agreed. It felt like everything was a blur as you finished eating a quick snack before watching your bridesmaids slip into their dresses. When your mother returned, Cale’s mom was with her, both dressed and ready to go. 

“Oh, sweetheart....you look stunning.” Cale’s mom declared, pulling you into a hug. “He’s gonna lose it. He’s fully admitted he’s sure he’s going to cry.” She laughed. 

“Should we get you dressed?” Your mom inquired and with the photographer and videographer on standby, they helped you into your dress, settling the straps onto your shoulders before zipping you in. It fit like a glove and your friends all gasped, having not seen it before. 

“Y/N…” They murmured, each having tears form in their eyes. 

“You aren’t allowed to cry or I’ll cry.” You chastised, feeling yourself get emotional. This was the day you’d been waiting your entire life for and so many different emotions were swirling through you. Taking a sip of water, you tried to calm your racing heart as you carefully sat on the edge of one of the chairs in the room. Fanning yourself, you saw Laura grab two small boxes, handing them to you with a smile before she took the seat across from you. 

“Cale sent the top one, says it’s your something new and blue. The other is from me and it’s your something borrowed.” Laura explained. Your mom quickly came over with the necklace Cale had given you last Christmas, an eight-sided snowflake so that you would always have a piece of him, or at least his jersey number, with you. 

“Cale suggested this as your something old.” She declared, fastening it around your neck. Opening the box Cale had sent, you couldn’t help but laugh. Inside was a blue and maroon colorado avalanche garter. 

“Oh boy.” You breathed. “Yeah, I guess that works.” Your expression caused everyone else in the room to laugh as you shook your head, working the garter onto your leg. “If this is the only inclusion of the avs besides as guests, I suppose I should be happy.” You teased, dropping your dress back down to hide the garter. Finally, you took the box that Laura had brought and opened it to reveal a diamond tennis bracelet, worn with age. 

“That was my mother’s, she gave it to me when Cale was born, and I plan to give it to you someday.” She expressed. “But I think you should borrow it for today because it just feels right.” Leaning over, you wrapped her in a hug as you thanked her. 

“I hope you know how grateful I am for the man you birthed and raised.” You murmured, trying not to cry. “He is...he is everything I ever could have asked for and I know so much of that is because of you.” 

“Oh honey, you’ve taken the man I raised and made him an even better man. I am so grateful to be able to call you my daughter.” This moment with your mother-in-law was so special and you had to take another sip of water to pull yourself back together. “Now I’m gonna go check on my son because I think it’s time for your dad to come see you. We’ll see you downstairs.” Her words were full of excitement as you hugged her and she squeezed your hands before leaving the room, taking a load full of things belonging to your bridesmaids with her. 

Your grandmother made her way up to the room just before your dad and when she arrived she immediately started crying at how beautiful you look. By the time your dad knocked on the door, you were just trying to keep distracted so you wouldn’t start crying, telling stories about dates with Cale and how you knew he was the one almost right away. You hadn’t expected your dad to cry, but he did get a little emotional as he wrapped you in his arms. With all of these moments captured in photos and videos you knew you would certainly fully cry over them in the future. 

As the clock ticked closer to the ceremony time, you felt more nerves roll over you in waves, slowly becoming overwhelming. Looking at your mom and dad you let out a shaky sob. 

“I...I know Cale doesn’t want to see me before...but I...I need to at least hold his hand for a moment...please?” You requested, now noticing that your hands were shaking. You weren’t getting cold feet, that certainly wasn’t what you were feeling, it was all just so much emotion in such a short amount of time. 

Nodding, your mom reached for her phone and stepped into the hall. After a minute she returned and motioned for you to follow her, your bare feet padding down the hall until you reached an alcove. 

“Cale is on his way up.” She assured you, kissing your head before stepping away to give you some privacy. Nodding, you just focused your breathing until footsteps approached from the hall to your right. 

“Hey, sunshine, what’s up...you’re not getting cold feet on me are you?” The sound of Cale’s voice was music to your ears and you reached a hand out around the corner. 

“No...no cold feet.” You promised. “I just…” You started but paused feeling Cale’s hand lace in yours. “I...I needed this.” 

“Mom says I’m going to lose it when I see you.” Cale breathed. “I’m so excited to finally marry you.” His words in combination with the feeling of his hand around yours, soon had you feeling like yourself again, some of the overwhelming emotions lessening. 

“So I told Rachel I’d set her up with Burky.” You chatted, loving the sound of Cale’s laugh in reaction to your words. 

“I’m sure he’ll have no complaints about that,” Cale replied. “You okay now?” He whispered. “Or do you need a hug because I can just close my eyes.” He offered. 

“I will never turn down a hug from you.” You said smiling. “But I am better now…” You added. 

“Come here then. Quick hug and then scurry along because we’ve got a wedding to get to.” His voice was happy and light as he pulled you around the corner and into his arms, his eyes closed. The hug was quick but settled all of your remaining nerves and when you pulled away you stretched to press a kiss to his rosy cheeks. As you scurried down the hall you noticed the red splotch on his face and called back. 

“Take a rag to your cheek. I love you!” 

Letting yourself back into your room, you noticed that it was basically cleaned out of everything from getting ready. 

“Better?” Your mom asked though it was clearly visible on your face that you were. 

Nodding you moved to slip your heels on, ready to get the show on the road. Now that you had pushed back all of the excess emotions, you were bouncing in excitement and you couldn’t be told fast enough that it was time to head downstairs. When you got there, you were handed a bouquet of red roses and greenery. From the hallway outside the venue, you could hear music playing and you hugged your mom one more time, wiping at her tears before handing her off to Gabe who was escorting her to her seat.

“He’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you Y/N.” Gabe winked. “You look incredibly beautiful.” 

Cale’s mom was being escorted by Matt Calvert and once both mothers had been taken to their seats, it was time for your bridesmaids to make their way down the aisle. Left alone with just your dad you let out a deep breath. 

“Are you ready for this?” He questioned and you immediately nodded your head. 

“I’ve been ready since the moment I met him.” Wrapping your arm around your dad’s, you took one more steadying breath as the music changed. Then the doors opened again and for a split second your mind took in how beautiful the venue was before you turned and were facing a crowd of smiling faces, Cale all the way at the end. Pacing yourself, you walked toward him, his face the only thing you could really focus on. He was crying, just like he’d said he would, and you blinked back tears of your own. When your dad handed you off, you squeezed Cale’s hand, giggling softly when he murmured to the officiant that he needed a moment. 

Once Cale had pulled himself together, you proceeded, his hand now holding yours more firmly as he stared at you with nothing but affection and love. 

“Today we are gathered here to witness and bless the marriage of Y/N and Cale.” You were half-listening and couldn’t help but focus on Cale as he mouthed a ‘wow’  in your direction. 

“Who has the honor to present Y/N to be married?” Your father answered that he and your mother do and hearing his voice you glanced over at him with a reassuring smile. Moni reached over to take your bouquet from you and with two hands free, you held both of Cale’s, smiling up at him. 

“Now close friends and family tell me that this day was only a matter of time from the moment Y/N and Cale bumped into each other on the campus of the University of Massachusetts Amherst. I’m told that right away both secretly expressed that it was the best first date they’d ever been on and that they could see this relationship being one that lasts.” You could remember your first date like it was yesterday and you remembered even then having never felt like you just clicked with someone the way you did with Cale. 

“Speaking with Cale I can see the amount of love and affection he holds for Y/N. I’m sure most of you are in the loop but Cale is the one that planned this entire thing in order to give Y/N the wedding she always dreamed of but was willing to give up to marry him. His teammates tell me the effort included a lot of time on the phone while on the road and even some missed team dinners.” Some chuckles went up in the crowd from the direction of Cale’s teammates and you smiled because you loved that rowdy bunch so much. 

“And though I haven’t gotten the privilege to speak with Y/N...I can see now in the way she looks at him that all of that love and affection is returned. And while I’m sure that there’s more that could be said about the two people standing in front of me I’m pretty sure they’d both like me to just get on with things.” The whole space filled with laughter and you nodded your head like ‘yeah kinda’ as you continued to smile over at Cale. 

“After speaking with Cale, I searched for a reading that seemed fitting of the relationship with Y/N that he described. In the end, I decided on “Blessing for a Marriage” by James Dillet Freeman.” Your officiant paused before launching into the reading. 

“May your marriage bring you all the exquisite excitements a marriage should bring, and may life grant you also patience, tolerance, and understanding.

May you always need one another — not so much to fill your emptiness as to help you to know your fullness. A mountain needs a valley to be complete. The valley does not make the mountain less, but more.

And the valley is more a valley because it has a mountain towering over it. So let it be with you and you. May you need one another, but not out of weakness. May you want one another, but not out of lack.

May you entice one another, but not compel one another. May you embrace one another, but not out encircle one another. May you succeed in all-important ways with one another, and not fail in the little graces.

May you look for things to praise, often say, “I love you!” and take no notice of small faults. If you have quarrels that push you apart, may both of you hope to have good sense enough to take the first step back.

May you enter into the mystery that is the awareness of one another’s presence — no more physical than spiritual, warm and near when you are side by side, and warm and near when you are in separate rooms or even distant cities.

May you have happiness, and may you find it making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it loving one another.”

By the end, the feeling of Cale’s fingers brushing patterns on your palm was all you could focus on. Lost in thought, you just watched him until he started speaking. 

“I love you, Y/N(Full). You are my best friend.” Hearing the sound of his voice, you realized that he was repeating after your officiant one sentence at a time. “Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, when life seems easy and when it seems hard, when our love is simple, and when it is an effort. I promise to cherish you and to always hold you in the highest regard. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our life.” As he finished, he squeezed your hand and you let out a deep breath. 

Repeating the same vows to Cale you laughed at using his full name ‘Cale Douglas Makar’ and then swallowed down the lump in your throat as you attempted not to cry as you continued. Once you’d shared your vows, your officiant asked for the rings and you watched as Cale’s brother handed them over. 

This time, they started with you and you took Cale’s left hand into yours sliding on his wedding band. 

“With this ring, I thee wed.” You stated confidently. Cale struggled just a bit to slide your ring on and you giggled as he spoke those six life-changing words as well. 

“Well...we’ve made it through the vows, you’ve exchanged rings, so I suppose there’s just one thing left to do.” You officiant declared, causing Cale’s teammates and friends to start hooting and hollering. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Go ahead and kiss your bride.” Your officiant spoke over the cheers and as soon as he finished, Cale’s arms slipped around your waist and he leaned down to kiss you breathless. 

“It is my honor to present to you, Mr. & Mrs. Cale Makar.” Taking your flowers back you walked back down the aisle with Cale, leaning against his chest as he kissed you once you were back in the hall. 

“So this is what I could have seen earlier if I agreed to a first look huh?” He inquired, spinning you around so that he could take in all angles of the dress. 

“Mmhmm.” You agreed, your arm wrapped around his as you smiled up at him contentedly. “But I’m kind of glad you didn’t.” You admitted. 

“Me too.” He clarified. “But you’re so gorgeous.” He murmured, stealing one more kiss. 

While your guests hit the cocktail hour, you, Cale, your immediate families and the wedding party headed to have photos taken. Your jaw ached from smiling, but every time Cale looked at you, you couldn’t help but feel your smile grow. You were his wife. You were going to get to spend the rest of your life with him. 

Thankfully, as your stomach started to growl, the photographer announced that you were done with photos. You had to make a quick detour with Cale to sign the marriage certificate but after that, you returned to the same ballroom following your bridesmaids and groomsmen inside as once again all of your friends and family went nuts. You settled into your personal table with Cale and immediately reached for the glass of water, taking a long sip. As you waited for food to be brought out, you leaned into your husband’s side, your hand resting on his knee. 

“So how did I do?” He whispered in your ear and for the first time you took a true look around the venue. There was a Christmas tree on either end of the room in front of the large windows and every balcony was strung with lit greenery. The tables were draped with white, red, or green cloth and the centerpieces were either red roses or poinsettias. It was absolutely beautiful and screamed Christmas. 

“I’d say this is probably the equivalent of scoring a hattrick.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Cale kissed your head in return and the two of you sat watching as your friends and family mingled as food started to come out of the kitchens. Sipping at your wine, you devoured the delicious food quickly, more hungry than you had realized. When your plate was empty you watched as Cale picked his up and used his fork to transfer his mashed potatoes to your plate. 

“I had a heavy breakfast and lunch.” He insisted between bites. “Go ahead I know you’re still hungry.” Nodding, you quickly finished off the additional food your husband had provided you before snuggling back into his side to digest. Now that they had noticed you were finished eating, Cale’s teammates, particularly Gabe and EJ, got obnoxious with the glass taps trying to get you to kiss. You complied the first half dozen times but then just rolled your eyes and glared, enjoying just being tucked into your husband’s side. 

After Cale’s brother gave a speech, your three bridesmaids tag-teamed one, and soon it was time for the first dance. Cale took your hand and led you onto the dance floor as Sam Smith’s version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas began to play. 

“Now you’re just outdoing yourself.” You whispered pecking Cale’s lips as he swayed you back and forth. This...this was everything you had ever dreamed of right here. “And I don’t think I’ve mentioned it but you look very very sexy today.” Almost immediately, Cale’s cheeks took on a deep flush and you giggled running your hands down his chest. “I love how easily I affect you.” You grinned, squealing softly as he dipped you as the song came to a close. 

“You’re a brat.” He mumbled, kissing you again gently before handing you off to your father for the father-daughter dance. Wrapped in your daddy’s arms he asked about you being happy and you couldn’t help it when your smile grew even wider. 

“I’m so so happy.” You assured him. “You know Cale has always been good to me, good for me.” He nodded, agreeing that he knew that but wanting to make sure you knew that you were always his little girl. As you turned slightly, you saw Gabe dancing with Linnea by their table and immediately your brain dashed to the idea of Cale dancing with your daughter someday. You were both young and not ready for kids just yet but sometime in the semi-distant future, you were certain he’d be an amazing dad. Kissing your dad’s cheek as the song ended, you watched Cale drag his mom onto the floor for their dance. While he danced, you stopped to hug your mom before making your way over to Gabe, Mel, and Linnea.  

Immediately Linnea reached for you and though Mel tried to discourage her, you eagerly reached for the toddler. 

“She’s fine Mel.” You insisted. “Thanks for sticking around in town to be here today.” You were sure this was only the first of many times that that phrase would leave your mouth in the next few hours. 

“Like we would have missed it. Cale has been talking about it non-stop for months. We all wanted to see what he was able to pull off.” Gabe smirked. 

“Eh, just his bride’s dream wedding..no big deal.” You declared grinning. 

“Plus now we can all chirp him for months for crying when he saw you,” Gabe added and immediately Mel smacked his head as the two of you in unison responded. 

“No, you will not, Gabriel Landeskog.” Gabe threw his hands up in defense and chuckled softly. The DJ announced that this next dance would start with just the wedding party, then family could join in and by the end everyone else and you bounced Linnea on your hip, looking to where Cale was already working to get Z’s daughter to dance with him. 

“I’m stealing your daughter, you can have her back at the end of this song.” You announced, cooing at Linnea who was enamored with you. Making your way onto the dance floor, you rocked Linnea around, making her laugh. Cale was doing the same with Sophie and when the two of you met up in the middle of the floor you smiled at each other, your shared look communicating the same thing. Someday.

The next few hours were a blur of mingling and dancing, though you certainly did more of the latter while Cale did the former. There were moments that stood out in your head though. First, you remembered how hard you laughed when you introduced Rachel to Andre and saw the expression on his face. You’d threatened him not to break her heart and while you weren’t certain it would be a long term thing, it certainly seemed like they would both at least have a good night tonight. 

Second, you remembered cutting the cake and the rush of heat that ran through you as you licked the icing off of Cale’s fingers as he fed you. You’d both been nice, neither smashing it into the other’s face like Cale’s teammates had been egging you to do all night. Then he’d held you as you shared a full piece making your way from table to table to talk to people that you hadn’t yet. You weren’t so worried about your immediate families, your grandma mentioning that Cale’s family had invited everyone to stay through Christmas to do one big family thing. But teammates, friends, you wanted to make sure you stopped and told each of them how much you appreciated them being here given that it was so close to the holiday. 

Finally, you remembered being pulled onto the dance floor by Matt Calvert. Not only had he and Courtney opened up their home to Cale, but they had also opened it to you, allowing you to spend time with him during a period where everything was changing so quickly that your relationship very easily could have cracked. In addition to that, Courtney had been a lifeline in helping you navigate your way through the life of a better half. 

“You know...when Cale first mentioned you, I had my reservations,” Matt admitted. “But then I met you and I immediately knew it wouldn’t be long before we were standing here. The two of you complement each other so well. I truly don’t think he could have found a better match.” Hugging him, you expressed silently how much those words meant to you. As you continued to dance, you watched Cale with Courtney, his cheeks flushed from alcohol and the day as a whole. To their right, Moni was dancing with Matt Nieto and you giggled to yourself as your eyes went wide. Over by the tables, Josty, who had caught the garter, was chatting up Anne, who had caught your bouquet, making her laugh probably by saying something completely ridiculous because he’d had quite a few drinks today. And though deep down you already knew it, today had proven one thing. You belonged in Cale’s world just as much as he belonged in yours. The two of you just blended seamlessly and it was probably one of the most important reasons as to why it just worked. 

Like your feet had tired hours ago, eventually, the rest of you started to tire as well and you tucked yourself into Cale’s side, leaning against him. 

“Should we make our rounds and say goodnight?” Cale whispered softly in your ear and when you nodded, he started to guide you around the room. Soon, you had said goodnight to pretty much everyone who was left and then Cale grabbed your shoes, walking you up to your suite. 

Popping the door open, Cale lifted you bridal style and carried you over the doorstep, setting you down gently on the bed. 

“Today was perfect, but I’m exhausted.” You breathed, already feeling like you just wanted to melt into the mattress. As much as you wanted to consummate your marriage you just weren’t sure you had the energy. Cale paced around the room for a few minutes and when you finally pulled yourself to sit up, you saw that he had changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and was walking toward you with a makeup wipe in his hand. 

“Let’s just get you ready for bed.” He proclaimed, gently wiping as much of the makeup off of you as he could so that washing your face would be easier. “We have all the time in the world.” He continued. “So let’s just get some sleep and then maybe we can take advantage of that jacuzzi in the morning since checkout isn’t until noon.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You murmured, sitting still as Cale worked to take down your hair so that you could actually sleep on it. When all of that was done he pulled you to your feet, helped you out of your dress, and then into one of his t-shirts. Pulling him close you kissed him, your lips melding together lazily. “I love you. Thanks for everything today.” Your words were muffled against his lips but Cale groaned softly at them all the same. 

“You deserve all of it. I can’t believe you’re my wife.” There was a glint in his eyes that you loved so much and you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Believe it buddy...because I fully expect you to make love to me after we get some sleep.” 

“Tomorrow...for the rest of our lives...whatever you want is all yours.” He agreed. 

“How about we start with some cuddles and go from there?” Tucked into Cale’s arms, you felt your body settle and start drifting off to sleep. 

Though you’d received a lot of Christmas presents in life, you were 100% sure that being married to Cale was forever going to be the best Christmas gift you could have ever received. 

[myelocin]

home found in the autumn rain | hanamaki t.

synopsis: there are some things that have you recalling an old ache you thought you’ve overcome by now. instead of the comforting words you’ve been used to hearing, takahiro instead reminds you the simple reasons of why you remain despite other’s departure.

characters: hanamaki takahiro, you

genre/warnings: comfort fic, fluff, hurt/comfort, 

wc: 1900+

a/n: i,,,just went on a weird headspace bc i’m at that age where i’m adulting yet realizing that the people i wanted to repay aren’t here anymore,, comfort fic for those who kinda vibe w my emo hours

-

“Maybe I’m so adamant on believing that there’s a life after this because I wasn’t given enough time to really know them just yet in this life.”

“What do you mean?” Takahiro asks.

You look at the room; to where the packed up boxes are stacked into the far end of the corner, the two suitcases that held the tangible pieces of your life right by the door.

“I’m leaving, but it doesn’t feel like I’m starting something,” you answer Takahiro honestly. He looks at you, a little perplexed, but opts to stay quiet when he recognizes the expression on your face. If your heart didn’t ache, that would have been something you’d smile at, but now all you see is a cleared desk and empty space.

“You know how when you get to this age, a lot of our peers’ goals is to give back to their parents?” comes your thoughts again.

Takahiro nods.

You sigh, then continue.

“It’s just,” you begin, then pause only to heave sigh again. “—this is supposed to be a big step, you know? I know you along with the friends around me have said they’re proud again and again, but at the end of the day I’m just finishing something temporary and then staring something that could be just as temporary.“

“I can’t call most places home because I’m not even sure if it counted as home. I don’t have pictures on the walls, and my suitcases are just in the corner of my room always half packed and half ready to go. Buying big furniture or decorating my room wasn’t that practical of an idea because everywhere I was was just a temporary.”

The spot you’ve stared every time you sat in your desk for years now stares back at you. You think of the nights you’ve cried into the four walls of your temporary room, a pillow pressed against your face to muffle the sounds, and the photographs of home framed and looking a little faded on your bedside table.

When you look up, there are still a few of the leftover glow in the dark star stickers you hung up there a few years ago, and you smile despite the ache that settles in your chest. The neighbors who sings karaoke a little too loudly than how they should switches on their system next door, and a few taps to the mic can be heard in the room.

Takahiro next to you chuckles softly; he still doesn’t speak, but he could recall the times where you’d text him in the middle of cramming sessions with your complaints said before even the initial hello when he picked up his phone.

The barely noticeable scratch on the window that’s been there since you first moved in all those years ago stares at you, and it’s that coupled the many things that flood in like the clockwork of your usual schedule that makes you smile a somber smile.

“Was this home?” you catch yourself thinking, then when the image of the house you spent your happiest Christmases in flashes in your mind, the nostalgia in your heart mellows and the ache from earlier finds a home in its place.

It wasn’t, you decide.

After they’ve gone, all the places you’ve passed your nights in just became temporary rooms.

“You okay?” Takahiro asks you, shuffling closer to your form and wrapping an arm around you. You think that with the silence and the timing, that by now you’d hear the steady ticking of the wall clock you hung above your desk the second day you moved in, but you don’t.  It takes a little while longer for it to dawn on you that the mentioned wall clock is probably inside one of the sealed boxes in the corner.

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” you tell Takahiro honestly, scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to try to fit it in words,” he says next to you, voice coated in nothing but pure honesty. You smile; that was the very thing you love about him the most.

Hanamaki Takahiro may not have a profound way with words and may not spew poetry from his lips after every eye contact or kiss, but the intention in his words were always as blunt as his presence. Nothing was sugarcoated to the point of exaggeration.

He just—reminded you to be more aware of the pauses in life.

“You think about your sadness a lot,” he continues, and you remain in silence beside him, listening.

He nudges your shoulder and shoots you a smile—which you return—and sigh with your head still leaned against his shoulder.

“Your sadness; the ways to overcome it, the stories behind it, reasons why you shouldn’t feel it…” Takahiro lists. “I just don’t think you ever let yourself feel it, that’s all.”

“But feeling it hurts,” you answer, voice lower than a whisper.

“I know it does,” he tells you softly, kissing your forehead when he turns his head to take a peek at you. “But the thing is, that’s just life. Things will hurt as much as they make you happy. Sometimes the balance is up to us to control, but other times it’s up to the world.”

“A lot of things hurt,” you confess, and you look at him with your hurt visible in your eyes. “And I didn’t realize a lot of things did until now; where I’m at this age and still crying over my friends telling me that they’ll go home for the holidays, or how excited they are to finally be at the stage in life where they can help out their parents with the loan.”

When you feel Takahiro’s hand squeeze your shoulder, you felt safe enough to finally lay yourself bare, so you do just that.

“There’s a lot of things and people I’m thankful for,” you smile, listening to your neighbor’s tap the mic to test the speakers again. “I just think about home a lot, you know? I know I should live for myself because my life is my own, but I was just never given the chance to even see them grow old. I could have done so much for them.”

“People telling me that just by existing and thriving now would have been enough for them, but how would I know if they even thought that?” comes the confession you’ve been denying for years.

Takahiro wraps you in an embrace and rubs circles on your back. Tears can’t seem to find you, but the feeling of loneliness is overwhelming.

Your heart hurts, and you’re even more frustrated because it’s hurting for yourself.

“I never had a conversation with them as the adult I’m trying to be now, Hiro,” you sniffle. “And it hurts because I don’t know if they would even be proud of me.”

As opposed to what others would say, you appreciate the silence Takahiro offers instead of the usual spill from others you’ve heard like a loop. The sentiment—one that’s always appreciated, has times where the words just feed into your false confidence.

“What did they love the most from what you can remember?” you hear his voice ask you softly.

“Flowers,” comes your mumbled reply. “We had a garden back home, and they grew flowers of every kind. They loved coastal towns too; sketching the architecture, taking photographs…” you continue, trailing off.

“I could have given them the world,” you finish, smiling sadly towards the window. They always loved to look outside the window.

“They didn’t bring you here to give them the world, though,” Takahiro says thoughtfully, pulling you tighter towards him as he kisses the crown of your head. “You’re here because they wanted to give you the world.”

“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” you ask, smiling at his choice of words.

“The world was made for us to look at,” he answers with a familiar sense of conviction.

An honest smile finds a home on your features; Hanamaki Takahiro wasn’t a man who could speak with the most profound poetry, but the bluntness of his words always managed to hit a homerun.

“I can’t bring them back for you,” he says, an apology in his voice. “But I can remind you that home is wherever the flowers bloom the most familiar.”

“I hate driving for more than an hour,” he sighs, then releases his hold for a moment to cup your face in his hands and give you a smile. “—but I’ll drive you to the coastal cities Mattsun’s been telling me about so we can sketch and take pictures there.”

“Neither of us can sketch,” you laugh, leaning into the warmth of his open palms.

“We can just remember that they do, then,” he laughs, his happiness ringing like wind chimes.

“I’m sorry if I can’t take the pain away sometimes,” he later tells you when you’re standing by the door with the doorknob on your hand and the handle of your suitcase in the other.

“Hiro—“ you begin, but he cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” he consoles, smiling. “I understand that there are some hurts from your life that I can’t mend, but for what it’s worth I’m always here.”

“I know,” you answer, leaning into him when he kisses your forehead. “You make the bad moments bearable enough for me to remember that there are still things in the world worth seeing.”

“Thank you,” you tell him honestly when you finally sigh and click the door of your past temporary close behind you. The neighbor’s karaoke machine still can be heard, and the handle gripped beneath your palm still feels familiar.

There’s an ache that doesn’t leave, but when you turn around and meet Takahiro’s smile, you come to realize that it dulls.

“Wait here, I think it’s raining,” he laughs, grabbing the umbrella and one of the suitcases and sprinting towards the trunk of his car.

“Need help?” you call out, laughing when he makes a show with his shivers as a cold breeze comes through with the late afternoon autumn rain.

“No, you’ll get sick!” he laughs, waving you off, before shutting the trunk of the car and making his way back to you, umbrella in hand and lopsided smile in place.

“It’s only autumn, Hiro. Not that cold yet,” you say, rolling your eyes, but tug at his scarf anyway to fasten it more snugly around his neck.  He smiles and keeps his eyes on you as he lets you continue what you were doing.

“Let’s go home?” he tells you with a smile, and the tone he says his words with has a new—much warmer—feeling bubbling up from inside.

Home, you think. The word feels foreign.

“Let’s go home,” you answer, testing the unfamiliar set of words with your mouth.

The warmth settles in, then tingles when you think of the plant you and Takahiro bought for your kitchen counter earlier that morning.

Perhaps the room you return to this time won’t be just a temporary anymore; perhaps this time it really does become home.

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Seven

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Seven

Jace knew they were in trouble as soon as he saw Maia’s face. The Cheshire Cat had nothing on her grin as she sauntered into Java Jones Monday afternoon, the last of their group to arrive.

She pulled a chair up between Jace and Simon, spun it around with a flourish to sit on it backwards, and flung an arm around both their shoulders. “So, is this the part where I say mazel tov?”

“I am going to literally murder my sister,” Simon announced.

Lily perked up. “Wait, what happened?” She looked between Simon and Jace, then fixed an intense gaze on Maia. “Did one of them finally break down and call you? Why didn’t you assholes mention anything? Who won the bet?”

“Oh, I got a call,” Maia said. “Not from either of these fools, though.”

Jace drained his coffee cup, wishing it were vodka instead. There was clearly no stopping this, so he might as well just face the music now.

“According to Becky, she and her grandmother caught these two in a storage closet about to get down and dirty, and Jace tried to cover up what they were doing by pretending he was down on his knees to propose.”

“Oh no,” Maureen said through a fit of giggles. “That’s terrible.”

Jace flipped her off, which only made her giggle harder.

“Don’t worry,” Maia said, patting Simon’s shoulder, “Becky said she’s like ninety percent sure your grandma didn’t know what was really up.”

“I can hide two bodies,” Simon told her. “I have a van.”

“And my sister is studying forensics,” Jace added. “I bet she’d tell me how to cover up a crime scene if I asked.”

“Every time you bring up your family, I just have more questions,” Lily said.

“Wait,” Maureen said suddenly, holding up her hands. Everyone looked at her. “If you guys are giving each other clandestine blowjobs, does this mean everyone in our friend group has slept together now?”

“Nope,” Bat said, and Jace shook his head.

“Wait, really?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised.

“We thought for sure you two were hooking up back when Simon and I were dating,” Maureen added, looking at Bat. “Jace was over at your place pretty much all the time.”

Jace stared intently into his empty coffee cup. He wasn’t about to tell them he’d spent so much time at Bat’s because he couldn’t quite stomach spending time in his apartment when Simon and Maureen were there, together.

“Jace was over at my place sulking because he got his ass dumped.” Which was the excuse Jace had given him. “He swore me to secrecy because he didn’t want you guys giving him shit for getting his heart broken.”

“You seem to be a little confused about the whole concept of secrecy, though,” Jace said.

“You could’ve told us,” Maureen said, earnest and sympathetic. “We wouldn’t tease you about something if you were really hurting.”

“Well, I’d tease you a little,” Lily said.

“You had your heart broken?” Simon’s voice was soft, and when Jace met his eyes, he found a confused curiosity there. Which of course there would be, Jace realized, given the conversation they’d had on the drive home, where he’d admitted that he hadn’t been serious about anyone since Clary.

“I wasn’t heartbroken,” Jace said, putting as much disdain as he could manage into the word. “Sasha just had some very strong opinions when I told her I didn’t want to get serious, and I kind of wanted to lay low for a while after.” The part about Sasha wasn’t even a lie.

“Oh,” Lily said, dragging the word out with relish. “You were embarrassed because she told you off in public.”

Bat looked skeptical. “You really expect me to believe you spent three weeks curled up on my couch eating Double Stuf Oreos because your ego was bruised?”

“Of course not.” Jace grinned at him. “That was because you’re a sucker who kept buying me Double Stuf Oreos.”

Maia smacked his arm hard enough to sting. “No taking advantage of Bat’s kind and generous spirit.”

Bat looked unconvinced. “Well, next time you decide to hide out at my place because you definitely didn’t get your heart broken, you’re on your own for Oreos.”

Simon was still watching him. “I would’ve shared my Oreos if I knew you needed them.” His tone was far too serious for a conversation about Oreos. Like maybe he knew Jace was hiding something. Like maybe he suspected what Jace was hiding.

Jace flashed him a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’m taking that as an invitation to steal your Oreos whenever I want from now on.”

“Dude, you can’t just steal Oreos!” Maureen protested. “That’s like rule number two of the roommate code.”

“What’s rule number one?” Bat asked.

“Booze,” Maureen and Lily answered in unison.

“And for everyone who keeps asking how we managed to share a dorm and not murder each other freshman year,” Lily continued, “this is the answer.”

“Truth,” Maureen agreed.

This sparked a lively debate about what did and did not constitute violations of roommate code that lasted until Jace had to leave for his evening class.

Two days later, a package of Double Stuf Oreos appeared on Jace’s desk. He didn’t bring them up, and neither did Simon.

~~~

Jace wasn’t sure exactly how they started studying together on the couch instead of their separate rooms. It might have been that one group study session where everyone else had to bail early. But somewhere along the line, he’d started dragging his textbooks and laptop out to the living room any time he needed to get work done. Half the time, he found Simon already there, and the times he didn’t, Simon usually joined him pretty soon after.

And it was…nice. Comfortable in a way Jace tried not to think about. Just another item on his ever-growing list of things not to think about. Conveniently, his assigned paper on the Thirty Years’ War didn’t leave room for thinking about much of anything else.

Which was probably why it took him so long to notice on this particular evening that he and Simon had somehow migrated from their usual spots at either end of the couch to sharing its center. And once he did notice, all thoughts of the Second Defenestration of Prague went out the window, the warmth of Simon’s leg against his own and occasional bump of their shoulders as they worked driving him to distraction.

It was stupid, really. It wasn’t like they never touched. In fact, Jace would bet they’d spent more of their time together over the past few months touching than not, in increasingly creative ways.

But they didn’t touch like this, without teasing or seduction or intent. It made Jace feel twitchy. Restless. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into it, to let the warmth of Simon’s touch seep under his skin. But a far greater part was telling him to pull away, to retreat back to his end of the couch. Or maybe to turn and press Simon back into the couch cushions and turn this into something far more familiar. Something safer.

“Hey,” Simon said, making Jace flinch in surprise. If Simon noticed, he didn’t let on. “I was gonna make stroganoff for dinner tonight, and I’m pretty ready for a break. Any chance I could talk you into slicing mushrooms for me while I start on the beef?”

It took Jace several seconds to process the question, so far from what he’d been thinking. “Um. Yeah. Sure, sounds good.”

Once they made their way to the kitchen, Jace was grateful to be back on familiar ground. They didn’t cook together often—didn’t have much time for cooking at all, really—but they’d done it a handful of times, and they worked well together in a kitchen, which was not something Jace could say about most of his friends, or his family.

It was also, he realized as he stood next to Simon at the stove, boiling egg noodles while Simon stirred the roux, acutely domestic. It was another addition to the list of things he wasn’t going to think about.

When they returned to the living room, bowls of saucy noodles and beef in hand, Simon sat right back down in the middle of the couch, where he’d been before they got up to make dinner. Jace hesitated only an instant before reclaiming his spot next to him. Simon flashed him a quick smile before pulling his financial analytics textbook over to balance precariously on his knee so he could read while he ate. Jace tore his gaze away, turning his attention half-heartedly back to his notes.

By the time he finished eating, Jace had realized two very important things. First, he needed to make another trip to the library if he wanted to have enough sources to back up his thesis. Second, it would be far too easy to get used to nights like tonight, and that wasn’t something he could allow himself to do. Before he could make himself do something about it, though, Simon shifted, half-turning to pull his knees up onto the couch and letting his head rest back against Jace’s shoulder.

“This okay? The light’s better like this.”

Jace took maybe a second too long to answer. “It’s fine.”

He placed his empty bowl on the coffee table—gingerly, so as not to jostle Simon—and returned to his reading. When he shifted a few minutes later, tossing one arm over the back of the couch and letting Simon rest against his chest, it was just a matter of comfort, really. Letting his hand come to rest on Simon’s chest, fingers absently toying with the neckline of his shirt, was not, but Simon didn’t object.

When his fingers encountered skin-warm metal, it took Jace several seconds to realize it. By the time he did, his fingers had already followed the line of the chain down to the center of Simon’s chest, where the object that hung from it rested beneath his t-shirt. He recognized its shape at the same time he felt Simon go unnaturally still.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Simon said in a rush.

Jace traced the shape of the ring through Simon’s shirt. His ring. “It’s a good place to keep it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, flattening his hand against Simon’s chest. The ring pressed into his palm, the telltale beat of Simon’s heart thrumming behind it. He wondered if his own were beating just as fast.

“You know,” he said slowly, “Alec is getting married next month.”

Simon relaxed against him with a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that in the approximately five hundred phone calls you’ve had in the last couple weeks.”

“A best man’s work is never done, apparently.” He took a breath, let it out. “But, I was thinking, you should come with me.”

Simon craned his neck to look at him. “Like, to play your boyfriend again, or…?”

As my date. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. He wasn’t ready to risk that he might be reading this wrong. He’d done it before, and for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, it felt so much more dangerous now.

“I mean, it would be weird if you didn’t, right?” he said instead. “Since my entire family thinks we’re together still.”

“Right.” Simon looked back at the book in his lap, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Jace could almost imagine he sounded disappointed. “Totally weird. I think Clary’s expecting me to be there, anyway.”

“Cool. I’ll RSVP you as my plus-one.”

Simon made a soft noise of affirmation and returned to his reading. Jace tried to go back to his, but he found himself unable to concentrate. After reading the same paragraph five times and not retaining a single word of it, he gave up and let his head loll against the back of the couch, cheek resting lightly against the top of Simon’s head. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

Jace was pulled out of sleep sometime later by gentle fingers stroking through his hair. He scrunched up his face and made an unhappy noise; he wasn’t ready to be awake.

“If you’re going to sleep, you should go to bed.”

Jace cracked an eye open to find Simon watching him with a fond smile. Still half-asleep, it was easy to smile back, something warm and soft settling in his chest. Sometime while he slept, they’d shifted again so Simon was leaning back against the arm of the couch with Jace sprawled half on top of him. Simon’s books were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Jace wondered how long they’d been there.

“‘M comfy.”

Simon chuckled. “You won’t be if you stay here all night and wake up with a sore back.”

Jace thought that spending the night with Simon as his pillow might be worth waking up with a sore back, but the fog of sleep had lifted enough that the feeling of impending danger was returning. He pushed himself up to sitting and immediately missed Simon’s warmth.

“I think I’m a couple decades away from waking up with a sore back from one night spent on the couch.”

He reached for his dirty bowl, still sitting on the table, but Simon stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Leave it. You’re tired; I’ve got the dishes.”

Jace frowned at him.

“Go to bed,” Simon insisted with a laugh. “You’re obviously exhausted.”

It was the laugh that got him. The way Simon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. The way he always smiled wide enough to show teeth. The way it never failed to tug at something inside Jace, urging him to smile back no matter how much he might resist it. Except this time it was less of a tug than a wrench that threatened to break him wide open.

Jace remembered, with sudden, vivid clarity, that drunken conversation he’d had with Maia last year. The one he tried to forget ever happened.

They’d all be hanging out at Maia’s new apartment, a tiny studio that wasn’t really big enough to host a six-person housewarming party, but they’d made it work because she was so proud of finally making good enough tips she could afford to live in her own place off campus.

Everyone but Jace had early morning classes that semester, so he’d stayed behind to keep the party going with Maia while the others had headed home. Jace didn’t remember how many shots it had taken for him to start complaining about Simon’s propensity for wandering around the apartment in only a towel, but he absolutely remembered Maia’s knowing grin.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

“It’s not a crush,” Jace had insisted. “He’s just annoyingly hot.” If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have spoken the next words. He wouldn’t have even let himself think them. “And I bet he’d be stupidly easy to fall in love with, too.”

And then Maia had laughed so hard she’d fallen over onto her cheap, beige carpet that still smelled faintly of new plastic while Jace was left to deal with the slowly dawning realization of what he’d just said.

“Before you fall asleep again,” Simon prompted, snapping Jace’s mind back to the present. Where Simon was smiling at him with an indisputable fondness that made Jace feel raw and exposed.

“Right,” Jace said, practically jumping up from the couch. “Bed. Thanks. For,” he waved his hand vaguely, “dishes and whatever.”

“No problem,” Simon said, bemused. “Sleep well.”

Jace understood what that feeling of danger was about now. It seemed there was some truth to that old adage about finding answers at the bottom of a bottle; it had been so easy, he wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen in love.

~~~

“You’re sure this is a classic?” Jace eyed the grainy opening shots of the movie playing on Simon’s laptop with some skepticism.

They normally did movie night out in the living room, on the flat-screen TV that had probably cost more than every other piece of furniture in their apartment combined, but Simon insisted a film this old would look ridiculous on a large HD screen. Considering how bad it looked even on Simon’s old laptop, it was probably the right call. And Jace wasn’t going to complain about having to squish together on Simon’s bed so they could both see the screen, even if that did make it feel perilously close to being a date.

“Cult classic,” Simon corrected. “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama is, like, peak so-bad-it’s-good 80’s horror comedy. And they’re making a sequel with the original cast, so you have to watch the original.”

Jace grabbed a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in Simon’s lap. “You mean so you can drag me to the sequel when it comes out?”

“Exactly.” Simon grinned at him. “Thanks for offering to see it with me.”

“That’s not what just happened,” Jace said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Agree to disagree.”

The movie turned out to be surprisingly entertaining, film quality and 80’s aesthetics notwithstanding. And the atrocious special effects. And, well, the entire plot, really.

“Do you think sororities were really like that back in the 80’s?” Simon wondered as the titular sorority babes outlined the hazing their pledges would undergo.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of them still are,” Jace said. “But Greek life isn’t really my thing, even if I have seen the inside of a few sorority houses in my time.”

“Was that supposed to be a flex?”

Jace ignored that comment and pulled out his phone. “Alec might know, though.”

Simon leaned in to watch Jace type, resting his chin on Jace’s shoulder. “I know I’ve only met your brother once, but I’m having trouble picturing him anywhere near a sorority.”

“Alec was in a fraternity in college,” Jace explained.

“Yeah, no, still not seeing it.” Even after Jace sent the text, he didn’t move away.

Alec’s response came only moments later.

why would I know that Phi Beta Kappa is an academic fraternity and sorority girls are well outside my areas of interest

“Okay, that makes sense.” Simon slid the bowl of popcorn off his lap so he could lean more fully into Jace’s side.

maybe ask Iz

Jace snorted and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He reached for the popcorn and gave an irritated huff when he found it just out of reach.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Simon grabbed the bowl and moved it to Jace’s other side. On impulse, Jace caught his hand and laced their fingers together. They hadn’t talked about that night on the couch—not about the casual intimacy or Simon wearing Jace’s ring around his neck or Jace falling asleep on Simon or any of it—but there was no question things were different between them since. Or maybe it was just Jace that was different, knowing how deep he was in this just making him more reckless with his heart.

Simon’s fingers curled around his, his arm coming to rest draped over Jace’s hip as he let out a small, contented sigh.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Jace. But Jace wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He could probably have written an entire treatise on navigating hookups, but he had no idea how to navigate…whatever this was. The only experience he had with actual romantic relationships was with Clary, and despite how fucked up they’d both been back then—or maybe even because they’d both been so fucked up—there had never been any ambiguity about how they felt, no questions about what they were to each other. No wondering if she knew she could do so much better than him.

It was different with Simon. Simon, who never seemed fazed by the shit life threw at him. Simon, who actually dated, and always seemed to leave a breakup on good terms. Simon, who held him like he was afraid Jace might break, who fucked him like he wanted him to break.

Simon, who had to know he could do better than Jace.

“Let me guess,” Jace said as the two characters he’d mentally tagged as the protagonists ducked into a closet to escape a demonic minion, “the nerd and the hot bad girl are the only survivors, and they get together at the end.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “You don’t get any points for guessing that. This is a comedy made in the 80’s that leans heavily into the tropes of the era.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I guessed it. I just figured you’d be into the whole ‘nerd gets the bad girl’ thing.”

“That’s not why I like this movie,” Simon said. “But Spider might have been part of why 12-year-old me liked this movie,” he admitted.

“Thought so,” Jace said smugly.

“You’re the worst.” Simon’s arm tightened around Jace’s waist, belying his words. “I’m seriously questioning why I even like you right now.”

“Because I’m charming, witty, and great in bed.”

The smile Simon flashed him probably shouldn’t have made Jace’s stomach do a pleasant little flip, but it did. “Those are some pretty great selling points.”

“Watch your dumb movie,” Jace said, trying and failing to hide his own smile.

When Jace’s phone buzzed several minutes later during a particularly tense scene, they both jumped. Jace pulled it out to check his new messages, then chuckled and turned the screen so Simon could read Alec’s message.

Magnus says there was at least one sorority exactly like that five years ago also I’m now being subjected to this atrocious movie, so thanks for that

“I knew Magnus would have good taste in movies,” Simon commented.

“I’m disturbed you can even talk about this movie and good taste in the same sentence.”

“Oh, come on,” Simon said reproachfully. “Didn’t you once tell me that any movie with boobs and explosions was a good movie?”

“Yeah, but this movie doesn’t have any—” On screen, the nerd threw a Molotov cocktail at a possessed sorority babe. Jace sighed. “Objection withdrawn.”

Simon flashed him a smug grin. “Admit it, I’ve got fantastic taste.”

Jace smirked. “I do like the way you taste.”

“Not what I—” He cut off as Jace illustrated his point by licking a line up Simon’s throat.

Simon let out a hiss. “You’re going to miss the end of the movie.” He didn’t pull away.

“Told you,” Jace murmured, scraping teeth along his jaw, “I already know the nerd and biker girl are going to survive. I don’t need to see the end.”

Simon turned his head to catch Jace’s lips with his own in a surprisingly gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup Jace’s cheek. They stayed like that for what felt to Jace like hours but couldn’t actually have been more than a minute or two judging by the tinny screams coming from the laptop speakers.

“What do you need?” Simon whispered when he finally broke the kiss. His tone was teasing, but the way his thumb caressed Jace’s cheekbone was all sincerity.

“Just this,” Jace whispered back, and it was the truest thing he’d ever said.

Then they were kissing again, slow and soft, and Jace thought he might drown in it, thought he might want to drown in it. He kissed Simon like he’d been wanting to for weeks, for months. Maybe longer. He put everything he felt into the kiss—his hope and his love and his fear—and prayed that Simon would understand, that he wouldn’t pull away.

He didn’t.

They kissed until they were breathless with it, until the last strains of the movie’s closing credits had long since faded away, until there was no room for anything in Jace’s thoughts and heart and dreams but Simon. He knew he was grinning like an idiot when they finally broke apart, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially not with Simon grinning back at him.

“See?” Jace combed a hand through Simon’s curls. He couldn’t stop touching. “Way better than that movie.”

“You don’t know that,” Simon protested. “You didn’t even watch the end. It could have been twenty straight minutes of boobs and explosions, and you’d never even know.”

“Weirdly, I think I might like kissing you even more than I like boobs and explosions.”

“Wow, high praise.” Simon was still teasing, and Jace suddenly needed him to understand how much he wasn’t really joking.

“No, seriously.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Simon’s neck, drew him close enough to feel his breath. “I—” Words he meant far too much—that would be too much—stuck behind his teeth. “I’m not really here for the movie,” he said instead. “No matter how many boobs or explosions it has. You get that, right?”

“I—yeah.”

There was something subdued and almost vulnerable in Simon’s voice, something that didn’t quite track with the conversation they were having, but before Jace could even catch the thread of it, he was being pushed back into the bed and kissed breathless once again. By the time Simon was tugging his shirt over his head, brushing calloused fingertips over a peaked nipple and making him gasp, Jace thought he must have imagined it.

Simon took him apart slowly, deliberately, maintaining a calm focus even when Jace teased, never altering his pace even when Jace begged. And Jace did beg, edging on desperation before they even got all their clothes off. By the time Simon had him spread out on the bed, opening him up with slick fingers and teasing his dick with strokes far too light to even approach enough, Jace wasn’t sure he was capable of anything but begging.

“Simon, please.” He scrabbled ineffectually at Simon’s shoulders, trying ineffectually to drag him close. The angle was bad for it, but Simon was also strong, something that was easy to forget until they were like this. It was also seriously fucking hot. “Please. Fuck. Need you in me already, please.”

“You’re so beautiful.” There was an edge to Simon’s voice, but Jace still thought he sounded far too composed for what they were doing, for what he was doing to Jace. “God, do you even know?”

Jace couldn’t even begin to answer, because Simon chose that moment to press his fingers very deliberately against Jace’s prostate, and the only words Jace was capable of anymore were garbled curses and Simon’s name.

“You have to know.” Simon withdrew his fingers and all Jace could do was whine in protest. “I bet people tell you all the time.”

Jace shook his head, not sure if he was disagreeing or just objecting to the sudden tragic lack of Simon’s hands on him and in him. Simon pressed a soothing kiss to his knee before pulling away to roll a condom onto his own dick, which took way too long in Jace’s opinion, but it was enough time for Jace to find his voice again.

“Please, Simon.” His voice was half a sob, and he didn’t even care. “Need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Simon breathed, the faintest tremor in his voice as leaned in to line his cock up with Jace’s hole and brushed the lightest of kisses against his lips.

“Yes,” Jace whispered. “Yes, please.”

And then Simon was finally, finally pushing inside, and Jace was rocking down against him, desperate and greedy for everything Simon was willing to give him. It took exactly two thrusts for Simon’s composure to crack completely, and Jace swallowed down his moans as greedily as he took everything else, licking into Simon’s mouth to chase every sound.

Jace would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came after that, lasting maybe a full ten seconds after Simon wrapped a hand around his dick, except that Simon was right there with him, following him over the edge with a barely audible, “Fuck, fuck, Jace, oh god.”

After, they lay next to each other on the bed, catching their breaths. This would normally be when one of them left to go back to their own room, or went to take a shower, or make food, or anything, really, to keep this thing between them from seeming like more than it was. Except it was more for Jace. Maybe for both of them.

“You’ve got me.”

Jace wasn’t sure if Simon had meant the words the way Jace wanted him to, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the possibility that he did. Trying not to overthink it, he curled into Simon’s side, resting a hand on his chest.

For a few seconds, Simon went absolutely still, and Jace thought for sure he’d fucked everything up. But just as cold dread was beginning to claw its way up his throat, Simon let out a shaky breath and cuddled closer, pulling the blanket up to cover them both and covering Jace’s hand with his own. Jace smiled into Simon’s shoulder.

“You’ve got me.”

He would hold onto that for as long as Simon let him.

[marveloussupernerd]

im going to come thru and request one of your holiday prompts!! please do jumin saying number twelve 💀💀 but like it’s the penthouse

Christmas Lights and Bruises - Jumin Han

This is from my Christmas prompt list , requests are currently open so feel free to request :)

Prompt: “I fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights”

Summary: Jumin really wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. If that meant he got a few bruises along the way... well... that was okay by him

FIRST OF ALL after a Google search: a fall from over 50 ft will almost def kill u and Jumin lives on the eighth floor at least (80 ft up min) so he would die. I’m not trying to kill him SO we’re just gonna say that the penthouse ceilings are high and he had to use a ladder to line the ceiling w lights

ANYWAYS ty for requesting bb I love you and literally everyone has requested seven for these prompts but you ? Just saying this is like everyone else erasure (no h8 to those requested seven tho :))

You were going to go for a nice day out while Jumin finished up some work at the home office. He didn’t have too too much, but he still sent you to the hairdressers because you were in need of a cut, and he wanted to get your nails done too while you were at it. You opted for the cut first.

Christmas was only in a few more weeks; you were so excited! This was your first Christmas with Jumin by your side (more notably as your HUSBAND by your side), so you wanted to make it special. The past few Christmases had been meh for you so you really wanted to make this one fun. You had already ordered his present and it was on its way. Soon you wanted to put the tree up too!

You hadn’t opted to get too too much off for your haircut, a little over an inch (2.5 cm) or so, but you were still excited to have it look all nice and fancy. Plus the hairdresser was always soothing. After she had washed your hair you made you way over to the seat to start the cut.

Not even half your head cut later and you were getting a phone call from one of the building’s security guards. He knew where you were at the moment so you figured it was important. You asked your hairstylist to wait a moment then picked up the call. “This is Mrs. Han.”

“I’m so glad I got a hold of you. Uh, your husband has had a fall...”

“A fall? Is he okay?” Your hairdresser raised her eyebrow.

“He refuses to lay down and rest. I swear I heard something crack so I called the doctor...” he sounded concerned.

“Alright. I’m on my way.” You took off the cape and stood up, hair still wet and half-cut. “I’ve got to go. Can we finish this later?”

With all the money she was getting paid? Of course she wouldn’t say no. She nodded and wished you the best. You flung on your heavy coat and headed out.

“Would you like me to send Driver Kim?” The guard asked.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You hightailed it to the penthouse. How did he fall!? He was supposed to be working. Your face was cold; it was below freezing out and your wet hair certainly wasn’t helping. Maybe you should have brought a scarf.

You rushed into the building, heading up to the penthouse floor and to the front door. The security guards were waiting for you. “Mrs Han.” They greeted you, standing at attention.

“Is he okay? Where is he?” You questioned.

“He’s likely at his desk right now, Ma’am. The doctor should be here in about 15 minutes.”

You rushed through the door, not bothering to take off your coat (you were cold enough already granted) and rushed to the office, knocking before opening the door immediately.

Jumin was at his desk, typing away at his computer. He looked up to you and smiled, then winced. “You’re home early.”

“Jumin!” You rushed by his side, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay? You had me worried.”

“Oh,” he waved his hand to disregard what had happened. “You heard about that. I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be strong around me,” you cupped his cheek in your hands. “Won’t you lay down until the doctor gets here?”

He sighed. “I suppose if you’d like me to.”

You grabbed his arm as he stood up, carefully guiding him to bed. “Would you care to tell me how you fell?”

“Well... I might as well since you’re about to find out anyways. I... fell off the roof putting up Christmas lights.” He sounded dejected. You helped sit him down gently in bed.

“The roof!? Jumin we’re on like the eighth floor!?” You were shouting. You were just so shocked.

“Oh... not the roof. The... ceiling? I tried to line the ceiling with Christmas lights for you in the living room. But... I fell off the ladder.” You pulled the blanket over him.

“Oh Baby,” you stroked some of the hair out of his face. “You didn’t have to put those up. We can pay someone to put those up.”

“But... I know how much you love Christmas and I wanted to make it extra special for you.”

“I know. I bet it looks great,” you kissed his cheek.

“Not really... the lights are hanging around only half lit up.

“Well I’m proud of you anyway. Now where does it hurt?”

He looked kind of uneasy, as though he still didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. He had a tight frown on his face. “My... chest. I don’t know. Right here?” He pointed under his chest. Men were never very good at injuries, huh.

“Your ribs? We’ll have the doctor check them out. You might have a concussion too if you hit your head.” You gently pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re so sweet. But please, let me help next time. You had me worried sick.” Your eyes were glossy. What a stupid thing to cry over. But you were quite upset. What if he had gotten severely hurt? What if he had actually tried to do this outside?

“Okay. But I’m okay, alright?” He reached forward slightly to unbutton your winter coat, pushing it off your shoulders. “Oh my,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh my what?” Your voice was just as soft to match his.

“Your hair... has looked better. I thought I had paid to have it done.” His hand reached out to touch your hair, a crunching sound being made as soon as he touched it.

“Oh, it probably froze. I, uh, left as soon as I heard. She only had time to cut half of it. But, I’ll get it done later! So long as you’re okay. You know, I can actually just have them come here so I can stay with you if you-“

“Honey,” he cut you off. You looked back at him. He had a warm smile on his face. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I’ll make you some tea while we wait for the doctor. He should be here any minute though.” You stood from your spot, but Jumin caught your wrist before you could leave.

“Stay here with me. Call the Chef to make tea or something. I just... want you here for now.” His eyes looked sleepy. How could you refuse? You sat down on the side of the bed, shifting so you could stroke his hair. He shut his eyes as you waited.

The doctor said he had bruised a rib. He probably also had a minor concussion and should rest as much as possible and avoid stressful work. He clearly didn’t know Jumin. Still, you’d try your best to keep him resting for the next few days. He lived and worked in such a fast-paced environment that the doctor worried any work could set him off and make his conditions worse.

“Watch Christmas movies with me?” You asked, after the doctor had left. You had put your hair up so that you didn’t have to look at it, half-cut, every time you passed a mirror. If the hairdresser didn’t get here soon you’d cut it yourself. It was that annoying. Still, for the sake of Jumin, you tried to ignore it.

“I haven’t seen very many,” he commented, eyes locked on you as you climbed into bed, pajamas and fuzzy socks on. “Christmas movies.”

“For real!?” You took the remote from the bedside table and climbed under the blankets, scooting closer to your husband. He was on his back, head propped up by pillows. He wanted to switch to his side but you wouldn’t let him. It would hurt!

He pulled you closer by the waist until your head was resting on his shoulder. “For real. I’ve only seen... hm... A Christmas Carol. It’s A Wonderful Life...”

“That’s all!?” You moved yourself off his shoulder to look at him in disbelief.

“And Rudolph.”

“That’s still all!? We have so many to watch.”

“But my work-“

“Nope. I’ll arrange for someone else to do it. We have to watch Elf. And The Santa Clause. And Frosty the Snowman. And The Polar Express! And.. so many more!” You snuggled back next to him, using the remote to pull up the first Christmas movie of the night.

He sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I cannot believe you rolled your eyes!” You teased. “What have you done for 27 years without me!? Without these movies!?” He flinched. “Oh! I’m sorry,” you pushed away from him slightly. “I hadn’t realized I was hurting you.”

“No, come back.” He was POUTING. Pouting. You had never seen him pout like that. You didn’t move though. “I don’t mind it.”

You huffed at him.

“Okay.” He scooted closer to you. “If you get on the other side we can cuddle and it won’t hurt. Because it’s my good side. How about that?”

You climbed over him, sitting on his other side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Better?”

“Better,” he sighed. He grabbed your hand in his. “Now start the movie. It seems I have a lot to catch up on!”

With all the movies and excitement and you, how could he possibly go back to work?

Bye writing for Jumin is my element I was so happy writing this. Ik I write for him a lot and if I write for any character too much it’s like blah. But he rlly is my favorite character :) I love him

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

12 Days of Christmas with Jack: Day 1

Pairing: Jack Whiskey Daniels x OC (kind of, written in second person though)

Rating: PG (general rating for the whole series)

Warnings: FLUFF the whole series is fluff, brief mentions of family passing

Word Count: 1,589 (this was suppose to be a drabble series y’all)

Author’s Notes:*cracks knuckles* here comes a hella long note section to start this off with. My lovely friend, Charlotte ( @clint-aww-no-barton​ ) and myself came up with this little series idea. I promised myself if I ever did a longer series I would not do it as a reader name insert so I came with with an OC kind of. Legit just has a name. I did try to make it more gender neutral but it may lead slightly more a female. Most things I tried to keep in mind or not add in so everyone could read it and enjoy it, plus it was a lot easier to write out with a name inserted. This series will be posted over the next 12 days with the last day posted on Christmas Eve. I am serious pray to the writer gods I can keep trucking it to get it completed for all of you. The beginning of some days may not have all this mess before it, I’m not sure how I will go about that yet but gosh I hope all of you enjoy this. It has been fun (and stressful cause its me let's be real). Charlotte thank you for putting up with me during all this and already thank you for putting up with me in the future. I am going to put this in its own masterlist under Jack’s name so you will click on it and it will take you to another one with all the parts. I will also link the previous part because it will have a connection throughout. Now that I typed another story I hope you all enjoy!!

Series Summary: Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels of Statesman agency has not been a fan of Christmas for a long time. Ever since the day he lost his wife and unborn baby the holiday always left him alone and cold. His coworker Ryder finds this out and is determined to make him fall in love with the holiday again. Follow Ryder as they set up different holiday activities to bring the Christmas spirit back to Jack’s life. Will feelings blossom? Will Christmas end up being Jack’s favorite holiday after all? 

  “Wait you’re telling me Jack doesn’t celebrate Christmas at all?!” You stared in shock at Ginger who sat across the break table from you.

  “Hasn’t for awhile as far as we all know. He has no family to spend it with so he either goes off somewhere tropical or covers Statesman for emergencies so we can spend time with our families. We have all tried to invite him to things but he won’t have it,” she shrugged her eyes full of sadness as she spoke.

  “That’s so sad. Someone needs to revamp his Christmas spirit,” a smirk played on your lips and Ginger stopped chewing to look up at you.

  “I mean you can try Ryder but I don’t know if he is going to take to it.”

  “Oh he will. I’m going to make sure of it. That man deserves to have a good Christmas and I’m going to make damn sure he does,” you smacked the table under you lightly.

  Ginger let out a laugh at your determination.

  “I wish you all the luck.”

  You gave her a smile and continued your lunch. When you were finished you went back to your desk to work on some more paperwork for Tequila. You had been working for Statesman for a few years now as a secretary. You helped the agents with the paperwork and the rest of the desk work some of them couldn’t sit still long enough to do. You loved your job. They were all incredibly sweet to you and treated you like one of the family. Jack and yourself especially had taken a liking to one another right off the bat. Constantly flirting and finding excuses to be together or hang out but as Christmas grew closer you noticed a slight change in the usually perky cowboy. You had finally broke down and asked Ginger about it exposing Jack’s distaste for the holiday season. You understood completely and didn’t want to overly push the ordeal on him but you wanted to at least try to bring his spirits up. You sat a notepad in your reach so when a thought ran across your mind you could jot it down. After the day came to a close you had twelve ideas to bring Jack’s Christmas spirit back and you were going to give all twelve a shot.

***

  There was two solid rings before his southern drawl interrupted the third one, a smooth hello making you smile slightly.

  “Hey Jack. Are you busy today?” You asked cautiously.

  “Not a thing darlin’ what’s wrong?”

  “Weeeell there is a leak and I’m not sure where it is coming from or how to even fix it.”

  “I’ll be right over alright,” Jack was urgent with his words and you could already hear him getting up and moving around.

  “Thank you so much Jack it sure would be a big help,” you tried to hide the smirk in your voice.

  “It ain’t no problem darlin’ see you in just a few.”

  You spoke your goodbyes before hanging up and glanced over your apartment. Everything was already set up for your little plan for the day. You almost felt bad lying to Jack but you weren’t sure if he would come over if you told him the truth of your plans for the day.

Your normal all out Christmas decorations were out and soft Christmas music played from a bluetooth speaker in the kitchen which was already set up as well. You thought Christmas cookies would be something small and simple you could ease Jack into this little plan you had for him. You were just finishing up getting things out and tying an apron around you when there was a knock on the door. You smiled before hurrying to the door and opening it. Jack stood there in casual wear but still topped off with a cowboy hat, his toolbox in hand. His eyebrows knitted together at the sight of you.

  “Okay I lied to you to get you over here,” you gave him an innocent look as you moved for him to come in.

  “What is going on Ryder?”

  “Ginger may have told me how you were always alone on Christmas and never cared for it because of it so I thought maybe I might do a few things for you so that you are not alone and to well maybe get you back into the spirit,” you fidgeted with your hands and looked up at him.

  “Oh Ryder you don’t have to do this darlin’,” he shook his head and gave you a chuckle.

  “No I want to. I can’t even think of you being alone on Christmas Jack or even during the season. I know what it’s like and I’m not letting it happen,” your voice was firm and a smile tugged at his lips.

  “So what’s first on the list then?” He glanced you over as he set his toolbox down and took his hat off.

  “Christmas cookies, small and simple,” you smiled and pulled the apron you had been hiding behind you out for him.

  He chuckled before putting on the apron and following you to the kitchen where you had already made the dough and had it rolled out and ready to cut.

  “I did the worst part but now we get to cut them out and decorate them,” you were beaming and Jack couldn’t hid the smile that spread across his face at your excitement.

  “I think I can manage doing this,” he glanced over the cookie cutouts that were spread all over the counter next to the dough.

  He picked up a Christmas tree one and carefully placed it down in the dough moving it slightly to get it all the way through before carefully pulling it up. You smiled even wider as he picked up the Christmas tree and smiled showing it to you.

  “See perfect!! Now just place it behind you on the pan and after we get enough we will bake and decorate!”

  The two of you cut out cookie after cookie, re rolling the dough when need be until the two pans you had prepped were full. You slid them carefully into the ready oven and then it was time to wait.

  “You can fix yourself a drink and relax. I’m just going to clean up a bit,” you spoke brightly to Jack before moving around the kitchen and dumping bowls in the sink.

  You had gotten everything used in the already soapy warm water when Jack came up next to you.

  “You wash and I’ll dry?” He gave you a smile and you couldn’t help to return it.

  “We can do that.”

  You started to wash things off and then handing them to Jack. You realized after a few moments that he was humming the Christmas song that was playing and you couldn’t help smiling to yourself. You washed the last bowl off and handed it over to Jack whose hand brushed yours and you swear you felt a shiver run down your spine. You glanced up at his eyes when he didn’t move his hand away either and caught him watching you. The two of you stood there froze in a stare down and you felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach. You let your eyes move from his to his lips for a mere second and then he was leaning in slowly. Just as the two of you were a few short inches apart the timer on the oven went off causing the both of you to jump and clear your throats. Jack took the bowl from you finally and began to dry it off as you rushed to the oven to remove the now baked cookies. You planted them on the counter and looked back at Jack with another wide grin. You pushed your little moment to the back of your mind for later and made yourself focus on the task at hand again.

  “Time to decorate!!” You were all too excited and Jack let out a laugh as he came back over.

  You moved around the kitchen quickly getting the icing, the sprinkles and metal tips for the icing. You fixed some icing up for Jack before handing it to him and getting a very questionable look from him.

  “I’m going to show you. I promise it’s not super hard.”

  You fixed your own icing and started to instruct Jack on how to pipe the icing onto the cookies. You watched him and smiled at how well he was doing. You couldn’t help but to giggle slightly watching this cowboy pipe icing.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “Just seeing you of all people pipe icing is just wholesome,” you shrugged and elbowed him earning a smile from him.

  The two of you kept decorating until all of the cookies were done and you stepped back to look over your creations.

  “I don’t think they are half bad,” Jack spoke with excitement.

  “I think we did good too. Now to eat them!”

  You both grabbed one and very softly hit them together before taking a bite and sighing at how good they tasted. You quickly fixed the both of you some milk and you finished your cookies and downed the milk. 

  “Hey Ryder I really appreciate this,” Jack turned to you as he set his glass down.

  “You’re welcome Jack. Trust me I have much more up my sleeve,” you gave him a smirk as you turned to him.

  “Oh darlin’ of course you do.”

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