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[marie-swriting]

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your car keys into the bowl where his are already resting, the keychain on the keys to his Bronco was the same one you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had gotten him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees.

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with you dad that sunny day at the golf course.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He’d heard about push presents. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[marie-swriting]

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Derek and Emily are the last to get back to the hotel. Derek kicks Emily out for the sake of his ‘beauty sleep’, and she’s left to have to share a room (and bed) with reader.

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; bed sharing, cuddling, mention of emily’s nail biting habit.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.0k

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The smile you give at her presence is a sweet one, though you do look a little dazed as if you were just awoken from your slumber. It was a good dream you were having, snow flurries slowly falling on you, the world around you calm. Her knock was what had pulled you from that dream. Instead of lying on top of a cushion of thick snow, you woke up on the same stiff hotel mattress you fell asleep on as soon after you got back from the local police station.

“Em, wh-what are you doing here.. so late too?” you squint your eyes, vision still blurry and adjusting to the light coming from the hallway she stood in.

"I just drove back with Derek," the raven-haired woman sighs, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her dark striped pantsuit, the other holding onto the strap of her bag that's slung on her shoulder. She’s not able to contain her grin as she takes in your state, the sleep-mussed hair, plain grey sweatshirt, fuzzy heart patterned sleep shorts that are indeed very short, one sock missing. "Derek kicked me out of the room, made up some bullshit excuse about how he can't sleep properly with another person in the room and that if he doesn't get enough sleep, he'll be completely off his game tomorrow.”

“..and you want to sleep here?” Your voice is groggy and your eyes have just begun to adapt to the light. Those same eyes dart down to the bag she carries, and know it makes sense why she’s carrying it.

She nods.

“If it’s not too much of a burden, that is.”

“N-no, you’re never a burden.. come in.”

You open the door wider, gesturing with your arm for her to step inside. Emily’s eyes flicker from the inside of your hotel room back over to the door of the room she was supposed to stay in with Derek.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”

Before she even finishes getting her question out, you're nodding.

“Im sure.. and I’m also sure I’m very tired.”

She huffs, a barely there smile appearing on her lips at your whine, knowing that if you get too well adjusted to being back awake, you won’t be able to get any rest tonight. You shut the door behind her after she enters and watch through the darkness as she sets her bag down at the end of the bed and gets out her pajamas as well as a makeup wipe, hairbrush, and her toothbrush and paste.

You fish around under the sheets for that other sock, putting it on before climbing under the covers. You can hear her getting ready for bed, distant noise coming from behind the bathroom walls. It’s only another 7 minutes before she’s done and striding back out in her own set of pajamas, placing her toiletries back in her black bag.

“Thanks again,” she says in a hushed tone, slipping into bed next to you. The bed shifts, dipping slightly with the additional weight.

“It’s no problem.” Your voice is a barely there whisper, and you’re already close to drifting back to sleep.

Another few minutes of silence pass and you open your eyes back up, witnessing as she fidgets with her fingers above the comforter. You glance down at her fingers, silently inspecting her fingernails. Even though they’ve always looked chewed up, you can tell she’s bitten them quite recently, maybe even today.

You’d put two and two together the first time you met Emily when you originally joined the team and figured she had a habit of biting them. You were right, and she confirmed the suspicion a couple of months into knowing each other when she made an offhand comment about your nails when you came into work after getting a manicure that weekend about how well-kept your nails always were and about how if she didn’t have this nasty habit of biting hers, they could be that same way.

“Em..?” You whisper her nickname, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” She hums, stopping her fidgeting and turning her attention over to you.

“I thought you said you haden’t bitten your nails in a while..”

Emily goes quiet. Her memory takes her back to just a week prior, when she had told you her weekend went well, and that she hadn’t bitten her nails since that last Friday, 2 days. It’s been 11 days now, and it seems like she broke that streak.

“Yeah, I did.. This case has just been really stressful, for all of us I’m sure.”

You nod in agreement. You know that’s not the whole truth, and she can tell you know by it being clearly written on your face.

“I.. I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now.. sorry.”

“Well if you ever change your mind, and you do want to talk, you can talk to me if you’d like.”

Emily lets out a soft sigh, appreciating the understanding in your eyes. She shifts slightly in the bed, finding a comfortable position as she brings her arms closer to her chest, tucking her hands inwards.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot."

You offer her a gentle smile in return, your eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and empathy.

She takes this moment of calm between you as an opportunity to shimmy closer to you, hesitating slightly before draping her arm over you. “Is this alright?”

You answer her with a small nod, letting your eyes fall shut as you curl up into her. She rubs your back languidly, softly lulling you to back to sleep against her as she rests her head gently on your shoulder, the shoulder your hair is draped over, and moves her leg over yours, effectively spooning you beneath the covers.

“Goodnight, y/n.” She whispers beside your ear, and she can hear each soft breath you take and each beat of your heart with how close you are to her, no room between you, bare thighs pressed against her pajama bottom covered ones, her head right next to yours, pressing against the cozy material of your sweatshirt.

“Goodnight..” you mutter back, voice weak as you drift off.

[marie-swriting]

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

[marie-swriting]

Lessons in chemistry - Peter Parker

Synopsis: Your best friend Peter tries to teach you how to skateboard, but distractions occur.

AN: it's one in the morning, and I gave in to the delusions. They have taken me in as one of their own, and they said they would let me go if i posted this.

"You gotta trust me, okay?" Peter's got one foot on the skateboard, holding it steady as you stand a fair distance away, hesitant and unsure why you agreed to this particular day.

Peter had offered to teach you to skateboard, and while the offer seemed perfectly reasonable and fun at the time, being here now was an entirely different story. You were beyond clumsy and hopeless when it came to learning new things. Peter knew this, yet he seemed so certain you could do this one activity.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Peter." You're squinting as the sun beats down at you, and the concrete you stand on currently seems far too menacing to learn to skate on. Peter had originally offered to start you out on grass, but to do that you would have had to go somewhere more public to find some, being in new york and all, and you weren't fond of embarrassing yourself in front of more than just Peter.

"Just c'mere." Peter is waving you over to him, and the gentle smile on his lips is enough to bribe you closer.

"Okay, now give me your hands."

You do as you're told, and he gives your hands an encouraging squeeze.

"I'm holding the board steady. It shouldn't go anywhere when you get on, okay?" He's trying to make you feel better, but the anxiety within you picks apart his words.

"It shouldn't, but it might." You mumble, eyes down on the board, glaring harshly at its existence.

"Can you just trust me madame pessimism?" There's a humorous sigh that falls from him as you get up the courage to step on the board, and when you do, it seems okay.

"See? There you go. The first step is done." Peter squeezes your hand again, and you wobble a little on the board despite Peter keeping it from rolling away.

"Well, this was fun. Time to go home now." It comes off as a joke, but you're more than serious as Peter shakes his head.

"Give it a chance."

You look up at him, and you're oddly close. With your hands in his, it's almost as though you're about to dance under the old overpass at which you stand. "Okay, Parker, I trust you." You mean it, but that doesn't mean you're at all comfortable with what you're about to do. Part of you wishes you'd stayed home, while the other is glad to be here with Peter.

"I'm gonna take my foot away from the board now, okay? It's gonna roll a little, but I got you so don't worry."

"I'm worrying Peter."

He laughs. A beautiful laugh and a wonderful smile accompanying it before he begins the fated count down. "On three, one, two–" he lets the board free, and you don't move much, being on flat ground and all, but still the slight adjustment freaks you out just a little. Again, you sway on the board, and Peter holds you steady.

"I hate this so much." You whine, unable to contain the true depth of your feelings. The situation is so far out of your comfort zone that it feels as though your skin is crawling with you inside it.

"Well, it's not like I can tell or anything. I mean, you look like you're having a great time. You know, with the tense shoulders and genuine panic in your eyes, I would have assumed you were having fun or something." his sarcasm does little to ease you, but it's so truly Peter. So authentic to his person that you can almost imagine yourself standing on flat ground beside him, rather than supported by the wheels of his old and flimsy skateboard.

"Let's just get this over with." You try for a smile, but it's hard to do, every muscle in your body preoccupied with trying to stay as still as possible.

"We're gonna try and move now, just a little."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Peter laughs "fuck."

And just like that, you're rolling along, heart beating quickly as Peter sends encouragements. You're stable for a few moments before you get into your head and feel yourself tilting backward. Letting go of his hands, you rush to grasp Peter's shoulders, his hands falling to your waist as he pulls you toward him and off the board.

"Woah, okay, that was a good first attempt."

You're gripping him tight, too tight, as the board rolls away from you both. Peter will go get it later, but for now he's with you.

"I almost died." You mutter, a death grip on Peter's jacket.

"You were fine." Peter chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. You accept it, despite the fact you're slightly upset with him for making you do this. And when you pull back, squinting up at him you lose all the stress from before.

Peter loses himself entirely, thinking things nowhere near the topic of skateboarding and closer to the topic of kissing.

"You did great... really great." Peter insists one hand running down your back as he tries to stop the thoughts racing through his head. He'd always liked you, as more than a friend. He'd always wanted to wake up beside you, hold your hand, take you to prom. He'd always wanted you.

He clears his throat, and you look away from him, almost disappointed.

"You want to try again?" He asks, trying to get back on track. You shake your head and look back to him, and in your eyes, he sees something different. A sort of confidence.

"What do I get if I do?" You're teasing him. He thinks you are, at least, but the mischief you're offering is tempting.

"What do you want?"

"A dinner date, somewhere where there's pasta." You answer, so sure of yourself, and Peter's brain freezes up.

"A date as in a date or...?" He sounds so stupid like this, and he realizes just how close he still is to you. Where his hands are placed softly on your hips and where your fingers hold fast to his shoulders.

"Whatever you want it to be, Peter. Now, if we have a deal, I would like to try again." You look to the direction the skateboard had gone and see it paused a small distance away, but you don't get to retrieve it. Before you can, Peter's hand comes up to your face, fingers placed gently on your jaw to turn your gaze back his way.

It's not what you expect from him, and in honesty, it's not what Peter expects from himself either but he leans in closer, pausing just long enough for you to pull away if you want to.

"Do it." You whisper, your breath brushing over his lips, as if painting the grin that spreads onto his face.

The kiss is gentle, his nose bumping awkwardly with yours as he leans closer, closing the gap. He can feel the heat in your cheeks when he places his hands there, thumb brushing over the skin as he breathes you in. Your fingers grip his shoulders harder now, moving up toward his neck to hold him closer, and there's something about the way you move with him so perfectly that makes him think this can't possibly be real. But it is, and when he pulls back for air, he examines your features, hoping for your reaction. You speak first, before he can.

"That was weird," you say, breaking his heart a little. "But in a good way. I'd like to try it again sometime, if that's okay with you?" You mend the break easily, and soon he's grinning again, one hand finding it's way into your hair.

"It's definitely okay with me." Peter mumbles, eyes drifting back down to your lips in anticipation.

"Should I book a time with your secretary for our next appointment?" Your head tilts to the side as you watch every expression that crosses his face. He's beautiful, definitely, and his heart is yours.

"As a matter of fact, I have an hour or two free right now. I was skateboarding with this girl I really like, but I think her mind is wandering elsewhere."

You smack him hard on the arm, but before you can remark anything back, he's kissing you again, sending you into a blissful silence.

You're learning very little about skateboarding, but it seems your time is well spent anyway. Peter doesn't care how long he's here for, and he'll forget his skateboard under the overpass in favor of walking you home. He'll hold your hand the whole way there and kiss you goodbye on the doorstep before he leaves. He'll have everything he's ever wanted by the end of the day, skateboard or not, and that's more than okay with him.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MARVEL GENERAL: @5kyyyy

TASM PETER PARKER: @arignipanja574 @winter-soldier-vibes

[marie-swriting]

Hi can I request a fluffy Kate bishop x female reader where reader shows Kate what squish mellow she wants after Kate sees her ogling at some?

This is the best fic idea ever anon

Frost covered window - Kate Bishop

You'd been on a walk, out to get some coffee with your girlfriend Kate by your side, listening as she mumbled on about her latest mission with Clint, and her struggles to house-train lucky, despite having had the dog for over a year now. You were beginning to think such a thing was a hopeless task when the dog had gained such common habits, but Kate was determined to make it work. There was pure love in her heart, and when she changed the subject, broaching the topic of going shopping with you—something you hadn't done together in a while—you could hear the smile playing between her words. It was bright, and when you looked at her, the flash of her teeth and the sweet, reassuring shine in her eye was all it took to convince you to agree. But for now, you were getting coffee, so shopping would have to wait.

Or so you thought. Walking down the wintering streets of New York was no new task to you, but you'd never taken the deepest of time to glance into many of the shop windows. There was one store, however, that had stolen your heart long before any other had the chance when you first moved here, and that was a small retail warehouse with the cutest plushies in the window.

Some were regular stuffed animals, teddy bears, and fluffy dogs that parents would buy their children in the place of a real living pet for Christmas, but they weren't the things that stole your heart. The deep desire you held for the store was due to one thing and one thing only. The Squishmallows that sat in the shop window, all different colours, animals, objects, and sizes. You were absolutely obsessed with the idea of owning one, but one of the plushies, in particular, drew your eyes to it each time you passed the window. It had been there for weeks, the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you were desperate for it. So desperate in fact that you stop in the middle of the street once you reach the store, Kate walking on ahead of you before she realises that she's left you behind.

When she backtracks, standing back at your side with an amused smile, you're snapped out of the trace that the store window had put you in. "Sorry," you mumble taking Kate's hand, "let's go."

You move to talk a step forward, to keep walking toward your trusted coffee shop, when Kate pulls you back to her side. "You want one, don't you?" Her smile is wide as she asks the question, and you don't know if the cold causes the red tint to your cheeks, or if it is in fact, an embarrassed blush.

"No, I was just looking." You tug on her hand again, though your gaze travels back to the window where your eyes lock on that one Squishmallow, staring back at you in the hopes that you will buy it this time. After every passing of the store, it calls to you, that singular plushie, begging you to take it home.

"Which one?" Kate's voice comes again, and you turn back to her, pretending not to long for the thing in the window as much as you truly are.

"What'd you mean?" She's still smiling and as you say it you watch Kate's gaze flicker between you and the window full of toys.

She pulls you closer to the store, an arm around your waist as you both face the glass, looking through its frosted exterior. "Which one do you want?" Her voice is genuine and not mocking at all like you thought it might be. When you look at her, she's eyeing the toys closely, as if examining which one would be best for you.

You give in, and point to the Squishmallow in the corner, the one that had been catching your eye for more than a few weeks. You couldn't believe it hadn't sold yet with how cute it was.

"That one there?" Kate points too as she says it, stepping forward to get a closer look and bringing you with her, arm still around your waist. "It is pretty adorable," She turns her gaze to you at last, her smile still present, "Just like you."

The line is so cheesy that it makes you laugh, but before you can respond Kate is dragging you into the store, the dinging of the entryway bell alerting the man behind the counter of your appearance. He's old, wrinkles covering his face like a crumpled piece of paper or perhaps a well-loved map. He seems kind and smiles as you head over to the toys in the window.

"Kate, no." You try to pull your girlfriend back as she reaches for the toy you'd been ogling previously but Kate's stronger than you are, taking the soft thing in her arms before you can even think to leave the shop.

"You want it?" She takes your hand, placing it on the toy and waiting for your reaction, and as much as you hate people spending money on you, the feeling of the comforting plushie, combined with its cuteness is tempting. You smile when your fingers meet its soft fabric and instantly Kate knows the answer is yes. She brings it up to the counter without a second thought, smiling at the old man.

"We'll take this one, please." He grins back at her, darting his eyes to you and scrunching his nose in approval.

"About time, I've seen you eyeing this cute thing up for about a month now, I kept it on hold just for you."

His statement is alarming and both yours and Kate's eyes widen, though for different reasons. "You've kept this on hold for me this whole time?" Your voice sounds just as shocked as you feel, but Kate buts in before the man can answer, her eyes on you and a frown resting heavily upon her features.

"You've wanted this for a month and didn't tell me? I could have got it ages ago if you'd asked."

All you can do is shrug in response and the old man at the counter lets out a raspy laugh, from the cold air outside or his age, you don't know. "Well, you're getting it now and that's what counts." He rings up the item and hands it back to you as Kate pays, and you thank him profusely for putting the toy on hold. That explains why such a sweet thing hadn't been sold earlier at least, and when you leave the shop, Squishmallow in your arms and a smile on your face, Kate pulls you in for a kiss. It's short and sweet, but it warms you up all the same.

"Thank you." You whisper when you've pulled back from her lips, red swarming your cheeks again. "You're the best girlfriend ever."

Kate lets out a laugh, pulling you a little closer, the Squishmallow between you. "That's all you babe, but I've got to ask the question," The tone in her voice has become serious, and the expression on her face has fallen to become the same, and just as you begin to stress, she speaks again. "What are you going to name it?" She looks down at the plush between your bodies and you kiss her again, thinking of possible answers in your head as you do so. You'll get coffee later and sit and talk about all the things you could call your new prize, and eventually, you'll choose one together. Kate will smile at every option you put forward, her grin widening every time you'll squeeze the toy before taking a sip of your drink. It's been a great morning, and the day can only get better from here.

-

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MARVEL TAGLIST: @mellowladyangel @5kyyy @avyannadawn

KATE BISHOP TAGLIST: @t-reblogs

[marie-swriting]

btw. by the way. By The Way. BY THE WAY. if you gleefully boop you can also gleefully reblog edits. you can gleefully support content creators. you can gleefully leave compliments in the tags. i know you are all capable of pressing buttons now!!!!!!!!!!!!! REBLOG.

[marie-swriting]

You're welcome! I really liked your Emily Prentiss one shot 🥰

Need More Fanfics ? Part.2

Marvel

Killer (Kate Bishop x reader) by @upat4amwiththemoon

Clint's Stray (Kate Bishop x reader) by @maximoffsmuse

Never Let Go (Kate Bishop x reader) by @lightupthemoon

Unpacking (Carol Danvers x reader) by @yelenasdiary

Care Bear (Carol Danvers x reader) by @captains-simp

Home For Christmas (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @onceuponastory

In Every Lifetime (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @wkemeup

Bi (Bucky Barnes x daughter!reader) by @alyswritings

Criminal Minds

Starry Night (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @criminalmindswhore

Secret Santa (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @max-the-d0g

I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @bi-bard

Showing The Bird (Spencer Reid x daughter!reader) by @letarasstuff

Sneaking Out (Derek Morgan x daughter!reader) by @rachaelswrites

Top Gun

My Heart Will Go On (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader), Titanic AU by @averagewriter-inthedark (⚠️TW : deaths and light smut, Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Driving Home From Christmas (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Outer Banks

Thunder = Luke (JJ Maybanks x sister!reader) by @alyswritings (⚠️TW : mention of abuse)

Supernatural

Those Christmas Lights (Light Up The Street) (Dean Winchester x child!reader) by @yourmomxx

I'll Always Cath You (Dean Winchester x sister!reader) by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Stranger Things

Fall For You (Chrissy Cunningham x reader) by @tommiruewrites

Say You Want Me Too (Robin Buckley x reader) by @sparklingsin

Come Into The Water (Robin Buckley x reader) by deactivated account

Bridgerton

Angel In The Sky (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @inkedobsidian

Enchantment (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by deactivated account

[marie-swriting]

In Every Lifetime

summary: When Bucky’s first love from the 1940′s is found alive in cyro, he begins to question whether you’d turn from him in fear or disgust. 

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 5k

warnings: angsty angst (with a happy ending), bucky’s sad internal dialogue, 

Bucky had half a mind to wonder whether his heart might truly escape his chest. It pounded infernally against his rib cage; violently shaking against the bones until they splintered and cracked, he was certain he might look down at the SHIELD emblem on his sweatshirt to find blood soaking through the fabric. Or perhaps the bones of his sternum piercing through his skin. Hell, he might have left his heart on the tile a few paces behind him – throbbing on the ground, exposed to the elements.

He hadn’t so much as taken a breath since he caught word of what Stark uncovered in the Atlantic. It was only meant to be an exploratory mission; a simple means of honoring his father’s legacy by scanning the ocean depths in search of a history Howard had idolized in his time. Simple, apparently, to a billionaire with nothing but time on his well-manicured hands.   

Continua a leggere

[marie-swriting]

🚨GOOGLE DOC WRITERS🚨

BE AWARE GOOGLE CHANGED THEIR SHARING TERMS

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[marie-swriting]

Reblog if this sight on your blog makes you smile and you would like your followers to talk to you more. 

[marie-swriting]

I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted - Emily Prentiss Imagine (Criminal Minds)

Title: I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted

Pairing: Emily Prentiss X Reader

Based On: Midnight Rain

Word Count: 1,111 words

Warning(s): mention of failed relationship/engagement

Summary: The team wants to know more about their newest team member, Emily Prentiss. This leads to the reveal of a story that she would've rather kept buried.

Author's Note: Oh my god, we're getting Prentiss back in a few weeks. Y'all. I'm not ready.

MIDNIGHT - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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When Emily joined the B.A.U team, there was a lot of curiosity.

People wanted to know about their new team member. It was a normal thing to have questions about. Emily wasn't upset with them for that. She knew that expecting them to never ask questions would be unrealistic.

Emily just felt like she was a little too busy proving that she deserved to be there at all to start gossiping about her personal life.

Until there was one day when they all found themselves crowded around the little break area. Late night, early morning... coffee was a necessity at this point. Garcia had even waited to enjoy her drink before she ran back to her office. The only one missing was Hotch, who seemed to survive more on paperwork than coffee.

Emily had looked over at Spencer, who was sitting at the end of the little white table. His mug was sitting in front of him as he quickly flipped through the pages of a new book. Emily scanned the cover. Her eyes almost felt like they got snagged on the name printed on it.

"What book is that," she asked before she could even try to talk herself out of it.

"Garcia got it for me," Spencer explained, not pulling his eyes from the book.

"Garcia got you a book of poems?"

This time Spencer did look up, pausing for a moment before answering, "It's a personal joke."

Emily nodded, chuckling a bit.

"Why do you ask," he brought the conversation back to Emily's question.

"Oh, I know the author."

The entire team seemed to snap their heads over to her.

"Really?" J.J chimed in.

"Yeah... (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... we're... old friends."

Emily could've sworn that all of them raised an eyebrow at the same exact time. How long until she was able to do that?

"What?"

"Do you realize how much you paused during a sentence that had six words," Morgan asked.

Emily could've rolled her eyes.

"I wanna know everything," Garcia said quickly. "Please."

"It's nothing-"

"Come on, there's gotta be some kind of story," Morgan pushed. Probably only because Garcia had, but that was something to be addressed on a different day.

"Yeah," J.J joined in, effectively catching Emily off guard.

Emily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. "We... God, alright, listen..."

There were maybe two more pushes from Garcia before Emily finally let the truth slip.

"We were together," she explained. The team was silent after that. "Almost... Almost engaged, actually."

Any empty seats at the table were taken in a matter of moments. Emily felt like it was show-and-tell day at school.

"Well..."

She suddenly realized that she had never told this story out loud. She didn't have little safe checkpoints to get to. What was she meant to describe to them?

"We... we met in college," she looked around the team more than she looked at them. "(Y/n) was always a bit of a hopeless romantic... kinda comes with the poet thing, I guess. They were persistent. Not in a creepy way or anything... they just were."

Emily could've cringed at herself. She didn't feel like she was doing a good job explaining this.

"I was dismissive at first. Nice enough to be friendly. When (Y/n) finally asked me, they had worn me down. They... They showed up at my apartment door with a rose. We were broke college kids, so we didn't have a lot of spare money, but they took me on a picnic. I just... I remembered being so calm and relaxed. I spent all of college just getting my work done. With them, I didn't need to do that.

"After that... it's all a bit of a blur. I had never been in a relationship as intense as that one. We were spending the night at each other's place all the time, I was suddenly being cared for every day, there would poems and kind acts and just... everything."

Emily paused a moment, a small grin crossing her face. She didn't need to share every detail with the team, but she couldn't help that her mind suddenly flashed through the kisses and the touches. The nights together and the poems that (Y/n) would mutter to her as they kissed her skin.

She shook her head and kept talking, "(Y/n) gave me a poem to say they loved me. They were a hopeless romantic that got nervous around big romantic moments. I was swept off my feet, completely. Everything simply felt so simple with them."

The happy moments. Emily could lie. Say that they simply fell out of love but at least they had happy moments.

But that would be a lie that the team would probably see right through.

"I think we were together for a little over a year and a half before they proposed," she felt a guilty feeling in her chest. She never realized how long she avoided speaking about this. "It was... It was over dinner at their place. They had decorated... and cooked my favorite foods. There were candles and music and stuff...

"And then, they went to grab the wine and then just... asked. Had a little ring and everything."

There was a pause. A long pause. One where Emily was trying to calm the sickening feeling in her gut.

"And you said no," Garcia asked. Not condescending or upset or anything. Just curious. It helped Emily more than Garcia would ever realize.

"Not at first," she admitted. "I... I don't know if it was just too sudden or maybe I wanted to say 'yes' at the time, but I said yes. And then... I sat up all night... just staring at the ring... and I just... I couldn't do it. I was so focused on my work, and I was worried getting married would... prevent that. So... I got up, grabbed the things I had left there, wrote a letter, left the ring... and I ran."

The team was silent after that.

But Emily didn't see any judgment. It was just a lot of processing. Attempting to understand the timeline that Emily had just given them.

Spencer was the first to move, going to flip through the book pages quickly.

Morgan was the first one to actually speak up.

"You still think about them," he asked.

"Sometimes," Emily nodded. "I doubt the feeling's mutual."

"You're wrong," Spencer said.

"Oh, thanks, Reid," Emily chuckled.

Spencer held out the book to Emily. He was right, she had been wrong about the feeling not being mutual.

In front of her was the last poem in the book.

A simple title.

For Emily.

------------------------

Author's Note: This song always sounded like opening up to a close friend about something at like two in the morning at a sleepover. That's why it was written like this instead of having flashbacks to these moments.

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[marie-swriting]

A good example !

I wanted to take a second to highlight this user in the midst of the "discourse" in spam liking and not reblogging.

When I saw this in my notifs just now, I about cried.

THIS IS WHAT ITS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE.

BE THIS PERSON. THIS IS HOW YOU SHOULD BE DOING IT.

We are not fucking kidding when we say reblogging takes literally two seconds. This user is still liking and sharing!! You don't even have to add tags!! When you spam like we expect spam reblogging for our works!!

This is the bar. The bar is 6ft under yet lots of y'all are literally still going under it and it's fucking insane.

Anyways to you @sjsmith56 I pat you on the head and offer you a cookie. It's snickerdoodle. Hope that's okay.

If y'all don't mind, I'm tagging just a few mutuals in order to highlight this along with my other post.

@navybrat817 @targaryenvampireslayer @fushic0re @bucksangel @eulalielatibule @cocoamoonmalfoy

[marie-swriting]

•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)

[marie-swriting]

I’ll always catch you.

A/N: Different glimpses into the relationship between the Reader and her oldest brother, Dean.

Word Count: 1,447

Warnings: Angst, character death

Support my Blog

Dean was staring at you as tears began to fill his eyes. You are his beautiful little sister. He didn’t want his life to change, he wanted everything to remain how it was. You smiled softly at him and reached towards him, “De, come here.”

Dean locked onto your eyes and he felt his exterior begin to crack. Looking into your Y/E/C brought him back through what was like a time warp of your life.

The Winchester men’s breakfast was interrupted by someone knocking at the motel door. John shot Dean a look, the look of be prepared for whatever comes through that door. John carefully opened the door and was met with a sight he hadn’t been expecting, “Carol?” He asked, confused why a woman he spent a few nights with on a hunt two years back was at his door.

“I finally found you.” She said, pushing her way into the room, dragging a wobbly toddler behind her. “This is Y/N.” She stated, pointing down at the toddler who was now crawling towards Dean. “She’s your daughter.”

John’s eyes went wide and he stared at Carol; she had to be lying, “Yeah…right…listen, I don’t wanna sound like a dick, but you came all the way out here for nothing. Kid ain’t mine.” John said to her.

“Yes. She is, and she’s your problem now.” Carol replied, dropping the diaper bag on the ground and heading out the door.

John was dumbfounded for a moment before following her out the door, shouting a quick, “Boys, watch the kid.” As he went.

Continua a leggere

[marie-swriting]

🟢 You are still a writer even when you haven't written in a while.

🟢 You are still a writer even when you feel like you aren't writing enough.

🟢 You are still a writer when you feel like your work isn't good.

🟢 You are still a writer when other people don't like your work.

🟢 You are still a writer when you aren't published.

🟢 You are still a writer when you only have works in progress.

🟢 You are still a writer if all you write is fanfiction.

[marie-swriting]

Never Let Go

Summary: You had foolishly believed that the holidays away from New York City would do you wonders to forget the feelings you carried in your heart but it hadn’t even been ten minutes since you stepped out of the train station and all you could think about was Kate Bishop. 

Warnings: None, just friends to lovers and fluff.

Word count: around 1.6k

Read on AO3

Author's Note: I am the softest human being ever for Kate Bishop and there is not enough content for her, so I gotta do it myself! Enjoy, guys!

The cool mid-winter air filled your lungs, your breath visible to you as you exhaled. You had foolishly believed that the holidays away from New York City would do you wonders to forget the hidden feelings you carried in every inch of your heart but it hadn’t even been ten minutes since you stepped out of the train station and all you could think about was Kate Bishop. 

You hadn’t heard much from her since the Bell Tower incident. It wasn’t unusual for her to disappear after one of her mishaps, and for once, you were thankful for her silence. You weren’t sure of when or how your feelings for her changed–you just remembered seeing her make herself at home in your apartment one evening after class, having a moment of realization as she rambled about some charity event her mother wanted her to attend, dark brown locks of hair falling on her face as she spoke. The ocean in her eyes were waves of mischief, and your heart leaped in your chest at the sight of them.  

You couldn’t deny your feelings after that even if you tried. Her energetic personality drew you in like a moth to a flame, oftentimes catching yourself smiling like an idiot watching her do mundane things you had seen her do a million times before. Kate wasn't particularly akin to physical touch unless she felt extremely comfortable, and after so many years of friendship, Kate was constantly pulling you in her arms. With the way your body reacted to her touch, you cursed the day you became each other’s person. 

It became extremely easy for your thoughts to drift into a fantasy world where she also shared your feelings, and it was too painful to come back to a reality where Kate Bishop wasn’t meant to be anything more than your closest friend. You needed to step away, so you went home for the holidays. 

You arrived at your apartment after a short taxi ride, and despite enjoying your time away with your family, you were so happy to be home. You left your suitcase by the door and went to your room to get changed. As you slipped into something more comfortable, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and let your thumb hover over the contact name Hawkling followed by a purple heart and the bow and arrow emoji, pondering the idea of calling Kate and letting her know you were back in the city, not that she knew you left in the first place. You sighed, about to press call when a loud knock on your door startled you. 

"Coming!" You yelled from your room, imagining it would be your landlord giving you your mail. 

You swung the door open, the faintest flash of purple the last thing you saw before you were engulfed in the tightest hug, your traitorous heart letting you know who it was immediately. 

"Kate," You whimpered in the strength of her embrace, snaking your arms around her waist. 

She buried her face in the crook of your neck, "Where were you?" Kate asked, her voice muffled by your shirt, the vibrations making you shudder. 

You closed your eyes, trying to keep it together. "I went home for the holidays." 

"I missed you so much." 

Your stomach fluttered with her words, a deep sensation of warmth filling you up. Kate drew back to look at you, and it was then that you saw the deep sadness in her eyes, as if she was carrying the entire world on her shoulders. You brought your hands to her face, lightly stroking her cheeks with your thumbs. 

"What's wrong?" 

She huffed out a teary laugh. "Do I look that bad?"

"No, of course not, you're beautiful," you brushed her off. "It's just–you seem sad." 

A pink hue covered her cheeks, and she looked down. "There's been a lot going on."  

You grabbed her hand and she looked back at you, the deep ocean of her eyes as tender as ever. You closed the door behind her, pulling her in the direction of the living room so she could sit and tell you what she was up to in your absence.

She told you everything. From meeting her idol to fighting bad guys to having her mother arrested, every word you listened to felt heavier than the last. The more she said, the closer she seemed to move towards you, practically sitting on your lap with her head safely tucked in the crook of your neck by the time she finished telling you her story between quiet sniffles.

"Oh, Kit-Kat, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that," you lamented, your hands softly rubbing her back. "You shouldn't have gone through that all alone, I wish I was–" 

"No," Kate interrupted you. "I am glad you weren't."

You knew it shouldn't have, but her words felt like a knife to your heart, twisting. "Oh," you looked down, chewing on your lip. "You're right. I'm sure Hawkeye was a better company for this sort of thing." 

"What? No," Kate furrowed her eyebrows. "That's not what I meant. I am glad you weren't here because I don't think I could have gotten through it knowing you were in danger." 

"Well, still, I'm never leaving you again," You pointed out, pressing a fleeting kiss to her temple. "I'll take care of you while you take care of New York, okay?" 

Kate pulled back from your embrace to look at you, her eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before. For a split second, you could have sworn she looked down at your lips, but it was so brief you weren't sure it actually happened. For all you knew, it was your imagination, playing tricks on you again. Your heart thundered in your chest, the silence making it speed up, and it was when you realized her face seemed closer to yours. The tip of her nose bumped with yours, her sapphire gaze searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes. 

You thought it was a lie, feeling a kiss on every part of your body. You had kissed enough people to know it was nice, fun even, but it wasn't life-changing or time-stopping in any way. It was just a lie to sell romance novels and movies. But then they were; fireworks. A blown-out fourth of July extravaganza exploded inside you as Kate's lips met yours in a kiss, effectively snatching the air out of your lungs. Kate cupped your face with her hands, sighing contently as you kissed her back, your arms immediately circling her frame. Your lips moved in sync, dancing in a new rhythm that felt familiar somehow. 

A part of you was fully convinced this was all a dream, a cruel fantasy giving you everything you had ever wanted only to disappear as soon as you opened your eyes. You kept them tightly shut, enjoying every second of it. If it was a dream, you'd make the most of it. Kate brushed her tongue over your bottom lip, testing the waters, and your mouth parted open, giving her enough space to slide past your teeth. She explored your mouth, a moan escaping your throat when her tongue met yours. The archer shuffled in your lap, adjusting her position to kiss you better, and her weight on you felt so right there was no way it wasn't real.

You resented your lungs for needing air, reluctantly pulling away. With your eyes still closed, you allowed yourself to savor the moment, your heart beating a thousand miles per hour. You felt Kate's thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, her nose nuzzling the tip of yours. The archer left a quick kiss on your lips again, before pressing her forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered open, the soft blue staring back at you making you dizzy. 

"Hi," was the only thing you could manage to say. 

"Hi," Kate smiled. 

"You kissed me." 

"I did." 

"Why?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, your expression making her giggle. "Not that I'm complaining, because I absolutely am not, it's just that–" 

"Y/N," Kate stopped you, brushing your cheeks with her thumbs again. "I almost died in the last few weeks, several times. My world was turned upside down. And all I could think about was how, if I died, I wouldn't get to tell my best friend how I felt because I was scared I'd ruin our friendship." 

"What?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. 

"I'm in love with you, Y/N, I've always been." Kate's voice shook at the end, her gaze now seeming nervous. "That's why I kissed you." 

"Oh." 

You could tell that your silence was unnerving Kate, but she waited patiently, not moving even an inch from her spot in your lap. A part of you still believed this was a dream, the most ridiculous of them all. But the youngest Bishop was looking at you with those damn blue eyes, expectantly, scared, so full of love. You saw the scrapes and scars on her face, gifts from her battles without you, and you wanted nothing more but to kiss her pain away. 

"Listen, I don't want to ruin our friendship so if I overstepped and I'm making you uncomfortable, please, just say so and I'll go, I never want to make you uncomfortable. You know what, I'm just gonna go and we can pretend that this never happened, and we can go ba–"

You pulled her in for another kiss before she could even attempt to move, hoping you could convey in that simple action all that she made you feel. Kate squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around your neck to kiss you back. You knew right then, that you'd never let her go. 

TAGLIST: @imlike-so-gaydude @sunshadesnrainbowz @ittynyte @hopingforromanoff

[marie-swriting]

Tomber - Katherine Pierce

Masterlist

Résumé : La célèbre Katherine Pierce tombe amoureuse de toi et elle en a peur.

Warnings : vampire!reader, la violence habituelle de The Vampire Diaries, mention de torture, sous-entendu de sexe (pas de scènes de smut), dites-moi si j'en ai loupé d'autres.

Nombre de mots : 3.6k

Version anglaise

Chanson qui m'a inspiré : Labyrinth de Taylor Swift

Les yeux de Katherine sont posés sur ta silhouette alors que tu es allongée sur le ventre, la couverture couvrant la moitié de ton dos nu. Katherine se tourne dans le lit et se met en face de toi. Elle admire chaque millimètre de ton visage qui n’est pas caché par ton coussin, de tes paupières closes à tes lèvres, ces lèvres qu’elle aime tant embrasser. Katherine se perd dans sa contemplation et se remémore votre première rencontre.

Chicago était plongé dans les couleurs de la nuit alors que tu étais derrière un bar peu fréquenté. Tu étais en train de te nourrir quand des bruits de talons claquant sur le sol goudronné avaient attiré ton attention.

-J’avais prévu d’en faire mon dîner, la voix de Katherine avait résonné dans la ruelle. 

-Trop tard.

Tu avais lâché ta proie, la laissant tomber avant de te retourner et de découvrir Katherine. Tu avais ouvert grand les yeux avant de t’exclamer : 

-Je n’en crois pas mes yeux, Katherine Pierce !

-Je vois que ma réputation me précède. 

-La seule vampire qui a réussi à échapper à Klaus pendant plus de cinq cent ans, ce n’est pas rien. Vraiment épatant. 

-Je sais, avait fièrement souri Katherine.

-En quelle honneur la fameuse Katherine Pierce est à Chicago ?

-Je visite. Je profite que Klaus soit occupé avec les Salvatore et mon pathétique double pour m’amuser. Tu connais des coins intéressants pour se rassasier ?

-Tu as devant toi la guide parfaite. Trois cents d’expérience à mon effectif, avais-tu annoncé en te rapprochant d’elle. 

-Montre-moi le chemin. 

Vous aviez tellement accroché que Katherine s’était retrouvée dans ton lit la nuit même. 

Suite à votre rencontre, Katherine était restée un mois à Chicago avec toi et elle avait même fini par te considérer comme une amie, une amie avec qui elle aime partager des moments intimes, mais une amie tout de même. En ta présence, Katherine arrive à se sentir sereine, protégée, chose qu’elle n’avait plus connu pendant cinq cents ans. Grâce à toi, Katherine a toujours un sourire sur le visage, tu en fais ta mission personnelle de lui faire esquisser un sourire. 

Bien évidemment, Katherine n’est pas quelqu’un qui reste en place. Elle avait fini par quitter la ville tout en te promettant de revenir. Et c’est ce qu’elle avait fait ce soir-là. Elle est revenue à Chicago après plus de cinq mois d’absence car tu lui manquais - bien qu’elle ne l’avouerait jamais à voix haute. 

Alors que tu changes de place dans le lit, ton bras se fraye un chemin jusqu’à la taille de Katherine, la ramenant vers toi et la sortant de sa rêverie par la même occasion. Katherine apprécie ce contact plus qu’elle ne le voudrait. Elle se laisse aller dans ton étreinte tout en inspirant ton odeur corporelle les yeux fermés. Tandis qu’elle grave ce moment dans sa mémoire, Katherine sent son coeur battre un peu plus vite, quelque chose qui n’était pas arrivé depuis un moment ; elle s’assure pour que ça n’arrive jamais. Les pensées de Katherine fusent à toute allure, cherchant une autre explication, mais la conclusion est unanime. Avec horreur, Katherine pense : 

“Uh-oh, je tombe amoureuse.”

Elle ne peut l’accepter. Elle doit éviter les sentiments. L’amour ne fonctionne jamais quand il frappe à sa porte et elle ne veut pas te perdre. Elle tient trop à toi pour ruiner ce que vous avez, alors Katherine fait ce qu’elle sait faire de mieux, elle récupère ses vêtements au sol et fuit, te laissant seule dans ton grand lit. 

Trois mois se sont écoulés depuis la fuite de Katherine. Tu as essayé de lui téléphoner, elle a refusé tous tes appels. Katherine fait tout pour tout oublier alors que toi, tes pensées sont occupées par Katherine. Tu ne comprends pas ce qu’il s’est passé. Bien sûr, parfois, elle peut avoir d’autres choses à faire donc elle ne te répond pas, mais elle te rappelle toujours. Elle te rappelait toujours. Tu t’inquiètes pour elle, craignant qu’elle soit en danger. Tu n’as pas d’autres explications en tête alors tu t’es mise à sa recherche. Tu dois t’assurer que tout va bien. 

De créature surnaturelle à une autre, tu arrives tout doucement à avoir des informations sur l’emplacement où serait Katherine. Katherine est vite au courant de ton plan et elle te rend la tâche plus compliquée en te mettant sur de fausses pistes. Elle a encore besoin de temps seule pour s’assurer que ces sentiments ont disparu. Elle ne peut pas les laisser prendre plus de place dans son cœur. Katherine est perdue dans le labyrinthe de son esprit à vouloir étouffer ses sentiments alors qu’ils ne demandent qu’à être exprimés. 

Toutefois, tu es bornée et pleine de ressources, tu arrives à la retrouver un mois plus tard. 

Tu attends Katherine dans son appartement. Tu ignores quand elle devrait rentrer, mais tu ne comptes pas la laisser filer entre tes doigts. Tu dois lui parler. 

Katherine finit par rentrer au milieu de la nuit. Toujours sur ses gardes, elle savait que quelque chose clochait avant d’ouvrir la porte de chez elle. Elle rentre avec prudence et quand elle voit ta silhouette allongée sur le lit, Katherine fonce, prête à t’attaquer, mais elle s’arrête quand elle te reconnaît.

-Tu es complètement stupide ! J’ai failli t’arracher le cœur ! crie-t-elle en passant une maison sur son visage. 

-Pourquoi tu m’ignores ? demandes-tu de but en blanc.

-Tu devrais partir.

-Non. Pas tant que tu ne m’auras pas répondu. 

-Je n’ai rien à te dire, affirme Katherine en croisant les bras sur sa poitrine.

-Katherine, pourquoi tu m’ignores ?

-Parce que tu es pénible.

-La vérité, ordonnes-tu, l’agaçant un peu plus.

-Mon Dieu ! Pourquoi tu insistes ? Je ne te dois rien.

-Je me suis inquietée ! J’ai cru que quelque chose t’était arrivé ! J’ai cru que peut-être Klaus t’avait fait du mal. 

-Je vais bien, tu peux partir maintenant, t’invite-t-elle en montrant la porte de la main.

-Je reste.

-Lâche-moi, Y/N.

-Répond-moi, Katherine ! t’énerves-tu.

-Je veux que tu me laisses tranquille ! On s’est amusées, c’était bien, mais je veux passer à autre chose donc arrête de me coller. 

-Comme ça ? Sans raison précise ? Tout allait bien et tu t’es réveillée la dernière fois et tu as décidé de partir et de ne jamais te retourner ?

-C’est ça, répond-elle, la voix sans émotion.

-Je n’y crois pas.

-Crois ce que tu veux, ça m’est égal.

-Je te connais et je sais que tu me caches la vérité. 

-Si c’était possible, tu me donnerais mal à la tête, soupire Katherine en se frottant les tempes. Lâche l’affaire, Y/N ! réplique-t-elle, plus fort.

-Non, je ne vais pas “lâcher l’affaire”. Tu es partie sans rien dire la dernière fois, tu as ignoré mes appels et tu as donné de fausses informations pour que je ne te retrouve pas, énumères-tu, ta dernière information la surprend. Je n’ai peut-être jamais été en cavale, mais je sais comment tu fonctionnes. Je sais que tu es en train de fuir, j’ignore quoi, mais tu fuis quelque chose. 

-Tu dis n’imp- 

-Vraiment ? l’interromps-tu, exaspérée. Parce que c’est totalement ce que tu fais. Dès qu’il se passe quelque chose que tu ne peux pas contrôler, tu prends la fuite, tu t’isoles de tout le monde. Tu n’as peut-être pas l’habitude, mais tu comptes pour moi donc je veux savoir la vérité, je veux savoir ce qui ne va pas pour pouvoir être là si tu as besoin de moi. Ne m’ignore pas, parle-moi, supplies-tu en faisant un pas vers elle. Je suis là pour toi. 

Tu reprends ton souffle quand tu as fini de parler. Ton regard est planté sur Katherine, attendant une réaction de sa part. Elle n’en a aucune. Katherine est trop occupée à être choquée pour réagir. Jamais quelqu’un ne lui avait tant apporté d’attention. Elle ne sait pas comment réagir. Seul son cœur le fait. Il bat un peu plus vite alors que les sentiments qu’elle avait refoulé explosent une fois de plus dans sa poitrine. 

“Oh non, je tombe amoureuse à nouveau”, se dit-elle. 

Elle pensait qu’elle avait la situation sous contrôle, qu’elle allait pouvoir se protéger comme elle a toujours su faire, mais tu rends la tâche ardue. Katherine veut surtout se protéger à cause de l’amour. Stefan, Elijah et les autres, ça a toujours mal fini. Peu importe combien elle a essayé de garder le contrôle sur la situation. Elle a accepté qu’elle n’était pas faite pour l’amour alors Katherine ne peut pas craquer maintenant, pas même quand tu fais tout pour la garder contre toi. 

Katherine prend une inspiration avant que son visage devient impassible puis, elle te répond séchèment : 

-Je ne veux pas de toi, ni ici ni ailleurs. Je suis très bien seule. Je ne comprends pas comment tu as pu penser que tu avais autant d’importance dans ma vie. Tu n’es personne pour moi alors va-t’en. 

Les mots de Katherine sont comme un coup de poignard dans ta poitrine. Tes yeux te piquent et tu fais tout pour empêcher les larmes de monter. Tu la regardes une dernière fois avant de claquer la porte de son appartement derrière toi. 

Quand Katherine est seule, un sanglot presque inaudible quitte ses lèvres. Elle lève la tête, espérant qu’aucune larme ne coule. Elle ne s’est pas battu pendant cinq cents ans pour craquer face à une situation si peu grave ! C’est Katherine Pierce. Elle a survécu à l’originel le plus cruel, elle ne va pas se laisser abattre car elle ne veut pas tomber amoureuse. Cependant, la douleur dans sa poitrine n’arrange pas la situation. Katherine tente de l’ignorer en se disant que ça ne fera mal que pour un moment, mais que la douleur s’atténura. Elle le doit. Katherine inspire profondément avant d’expirer. Ce n’est qu’un moment dur à passer, elle réussira à t’oublier en un rien de temps. C’est ce qu’elle se dit, mais une partie d’elle sait qu’elle va devoir t’oublier tout au long de sa vie. Le lien que vous avez est trop unique pour qu’il soit laissé aux oubliettes si vite. 

Tu n’as plus parlé à Katherine depuis un peu plus de six mois. Elle te manque. Tu aurais aimé ne jamais perdre ce que vous aviez. Tu n’avais jamais ressenti ça pour une autre personne auparavant. Tu savais qu’être proche de Katherine ne serait pas simple. Nombreuses sont les personnes qui t’avaient dit de rester loin d’elle car elle amène que le malheur, mais tu ne les as pas écoutées. Au début, tu étais ravie d’avoir fait ta propre opinion. Quand Katherine laisse tomber sa garde, tout devient plus simple et vous passez un moment inoubliable. Cependant, quand elle se crée des murs, tout devient douloureux. Tu voudrais bien essayer de lui parler à nouveau, mais elle n’a pas montré signe de vie depuis que tu es partie. De plus, tu es toujours celle qui fait des efforts, c’est à son tour de prouver qu’elle tient à toi. 

Par conséquent, tu reprends ta vie comme elle était avant l’arrivée de Katherine, même si ton cœur saigne à son absence. Certaines choses te semblent plus fades, comme les soirs que tu passes seule, les balades dans la ville sans avoir personne à qui raconter les anecdotes historiques. Tu as du mal, mais tu t’y fais tout doucement. 

Un soir, alors que les rues sont éclairés par les lampadaires, tu apperçois au loin une femme. Tu as besoin de la regarder pendant quelques secondes pour reconnaître Claudia, elle t’avait aidé à trouver Katherine. Elle te fait un signe de tête avant de disparaître quand une voiture passe devant elle. Tu la suis tandis que mentalement tu cherches la raison de sa venue. Quand vous arrivez dans une allée sans issue, Claudia s’arrête et te fait face.

-Pourquoi tout ce mystère ? questionnes-tu d’un ton moqueur. 

-J’ai des informations sur Katherine Pierce.

-Je l’ai retrouvée il y a plus de six mois, tu es en retard, annonces-tu en commençant à quitter les lieux.

-Elle a été kidnappée il y a deux semaines, informe Claudia, ton estomac se tord en l’entendant.

-C’est impossible. On parle de Katherine Pierce.

-C’est ce qu’on m’a dit.

-Et ta source est fiable ? t’assures-tu en cherchant un signe de mensonge.

-Assez, oui.

-Qui l’a kidnappée ? Klaus ? Un des frères Salvatore ?

-Non, c’est Everett Ackland, te dit Claudia, le nom te semble familier. Katherine lui avait causé des problèmes il y a deux cents ans. Il veut une vengeance.

-Pourquoi est-ce qu’il la garde en vie, alors ?

-Katherine lui a causé des problèmes avec Klaus. Il espère pouvoir régler la situation en la lui donnant.

Suite à sa phrase, tu te rappelles de ce que Katherine t’avait dit sur Everett et tu sais qu’il ne la vendra pas à Klaus sans la torturer avant. L’inquiétude laisse place à la colère, sachant qu’il est en train de faire du mal à la personne qui compte le plus pour toi. 

-Où est-elle ?

-Il la retient à Bloomington dans l’Indiana. Je t’enverrai l’adresse précise par message. 

Tu n’ajoutes rien et quittes les lieux. En entrant chez toi, tu te saisis de quelques affaires dont des poches de sang puis tu conduis jusqu’à dans l’Indiana. Sur la route, tu reçois un message de Claudia et tu accelères, voulant arriver à destination aussi vite que possible.  

Tu arrives vers des bois quand tu arrêtes ta voiture, à quelques mètres de la maison abandonnée. Tu te diriges vers un arbre et casses une branche afin d’avoir un pieu. Avec ton ouïe de vampire, tu écoutes et découvres qu’il y a quatre vampires en plus d’Everett et Katherine. Déterminée et en colère, tu marches jusqu’à la maison. 

Tu ouvres la porte silencieusement et commences à avancer. Quand tu arrives sur des ennemis, tu les tues assez facilement. Tu devines alors que ce sont sûrement des jeunes vampires qu’Everett a créés pour éxecuter son plan. Avec le meurtre de ces larbins, tu sais qu’il est au courant de ta présence. Tu restes attentive au moindre bruit tout en te rendant dans la cave où Katherine est. 

En descendant la dernière marche, tu as à peine le temps de jeter un coup d'œil à Katherine qu’Everett t’attaque. Il te plaque contre le mur, te faisant lâcher ton pieu. Tu réponds à son attaque et vous commencez à vous battre. Votre combat dure quelques minutes jusqu’à ce que tu arrives à lui arracher le cœur, non sans lui faire un sourire satisfait. Son corps tombe au sol en même temps que tu lâches son cœur. Tu te tournes vers Katherine et court vers elle.

-Kat’, tout va bien ?

En entendant ta douce voix, Katherine relève le visage, une expression soulagée se dessinant sur son visage. Tu inspectes son corps et remarques les différentes chaînes qui la maintiennent sur la chaise ainsi que les premiers signes de dessèchement. Elle a besoin de se nourrir rapidement.

-Je suis là, ça va aller. 

Tu continues de la rassurer tout en brisant ses chaînes. Quand Katherine est enfin libre, elle laisse son corps tomber sur le tien. Tu la retiens de justesse alors qu’elle tente de s’accrocher à toi comme à une bouée. En faisant un peu plus attention, tu remarques qu’elle n’a plus son collier pour la protéger du soleil.

-Où est ton collier ? demandes-tu alors que Katherine te pointe une table placée dans un coin.

Katherine toujours appuyée sur toi, tu récupères son bijou et le lui mets. Tu replaces son bras comme il faut autour de tes épaules et la soutiens jusqu’à ta voiture où tu l’aides à s’installer au côté passager. Avant de fermer sa porte, tu vas dans ton coffre et récupères deux poches de sang puis, tu lui en donnes une. En moins d’une seconde, elle la boit jusqu’à la dernière goutte. Quand Katherine va mieux, tu lui donnes la deuxième poche puis tu vas du côté conducteur. Pendant qu’elle se nourrit à nouveau, tu démarres la voiture. 

Vous êtes sur la route depuis plus d’une heure. Tu es concentrée sur ta conduite tandis que Katherine n’a toujours pas dit un seul mot. Son regard est perdu dans le paysage défilant. Tu n’oses pas commencer une conversation, devinant que Katherine a sûrement besoin de réfléchir alors tout comme elle, tu restes silencieuse. 

Vous êtes sur le point d’arriver dans l’Etat de l’Illinois quand la voix rauque de Katherine brise le silence : 

-Arrête toi. 

-Quoi ? demandes-tu, pas sûre d’avoir compris.

-J’ai dit arrête toi, répète Katherine plus fort. 

-On est bientôt arrivées.

-Je t’ai dit de t’arrêter, putain ! 

Tu freines brusquement, choquée par son ton sec. Tu n’as pas le temps de mettre la voiture au point mort que Katherine a déjà ouvert la porte. Elle marche rapidement, déterminée. Tu sais qu’elle peut utiliser sa vitesse vampirique à n’importe quel moment alors, tu te dépêches de l’arrêter dans sa lancée en te saisissant de son bras. 

-Laisse-moi partir, s’énerve-t-elle en enlevant son bras de ta poigne.

-Et tu veux partir où exactement ?

-Je ne sais pas encore. Je verrai en cours de route. 

-C’est ridicule, rentrons à la maison, l’arrêtes-tu alors qu’elle s’apprêtait à repartir.

-Ce n’est pas ma maison. Laisse-moi, je peux me débrouiller toute seule. Je n’ai pas besoin de toi.

-C’est ce que j’ai vu ! rétorques-tu, sarcastiquement. Tu avais totalement la situation sous contrôle quand tu t’es fait kidnapper et que tu étais enchainée. 

-J’aurais fini par trouver une solution, comme toujours. Je suis une survivante, je sais me sauver moi-même.

-C’est vrai, tu as réussi à survivre pendant des siècles seule, mais ça ne veut pas dire que ça doit toujours être le cas. Accepte que tu puisses avoir besoin d’aide comme maintenant.

-Tu m’as libérée une fois, n’en fais pas tout un drame, s’exclame Katherine en levant les yeux au ciel.

-Je n’en fais pas tout un drame ! Je veux juste te montrer que je suis là pour toi quand tu en as besoin.

-Je n’ai plus besoin de toi alors lâche-moi.

-Pourquoi est-ce que tu insistes autant pour me repousser ? interroges-tu. Je sais que tu m’as dit que je ne suis personne pour toi, mais on sait toutes les deux que c’est faux. Ce qu’on partageait était réel et sincère et pour je ne sais quelle raison tu as décidé de tout gâcher. Peu importe le nombre de fois que tu dis le contraire, je sais que c’est faux, insistes-tu en te rapprochant de Katherine. Autrement, tu n’aurais pas perdu autant de temps avec moi. Autrement, tu ne serais pas restée avec moi toutes ces nuits et ces journées. Autrement, tu ne te serais pas autant confiée sur ton passé. Autrement, tu n’aurais pas osé être aussi vulnérable que tu as pu l’être. Autrement, tu n’aurais pas essayé de te réfugier dans mes bras quand tu m’as vu arriver. Alors pourquoi ? Pourquoi est-ce que tu…

-Parce que je t’aime ! t’interrompt Katherine en criant.

-Quoi ?

-Je suis amoureuse de toi. Je suis amoureuse de toi et ça m’effraie, avoue-t-elle en te regardant dans les yeux. Toutes les fois où je me suis autorisée à ressentir ces émotions, ça n’a amené qu’à ma perte. À chaque fois, j’ai fini par perdre la personne et je ne voulais pas te perdre, toi. J’ai peur d’être amoureuse de toi et de te perdre, car je sais que si ça devait être le cas, je ne m’en remettrais pas alors j’ai préféré prendre la fuite plutôt que de te faire face. 

-Je t’aime aussi, confesses-tu en tentant de prendre sa main sans succès.

-Ne le dis pas parce que je l’ai dit. Je n’ai pas besoin de ta pitié.

-Je te le dis parce que je le pense. Je t’aime aussi et c’est pour ça que je ne peux pas te laisser partir. Je t’aime trop pour te perdre aussi. Et je sais que ça ne sera pas facile, car tu as dû vivre des choses horribles donc tu ne fais pas confiance facilement, mais je saurai être patiente, affirmes-tu en arrivant à prendre ses mains dans les tiennes. 

-Tu dis ça maintenant, mais tu finiras par détester qui je suis vraiment comme les autres.

-Je te connais, toi. Je connaissais ta réputation bien avant de te rencontrer et ça ne m’a pas empêché de devenir proche de toi. J’ai appris à te connaitre réellement et ça ne m’a pas empêché de tomber amoureuse de toi. Je te veux, toi avec tout ce que ça implique, tes bons côtés comme les mauvais. Tu peux essayer de me repousser autant que tu veux, mais je n’irai nulle part. Je serai toujours là pour toi car je t’aime. 

Tes mains de part et d’autre du visage de Katherine, ton regard plongé dans le sien, ton ton déterminé, le cœur de Katherine ne le supporte pas et se met à battre la chamade. Elle ne s’attendait pas à cette réaction de ta part. Elle ne s’attendait pas à autant de conviction de ta part pour ce que vous partagez. 

Alors que les yeux de Katherine cherchent une preuve, même infime, de mensonge dans tes yeux, elle ne voit que de l'honnêteté, de l’amour et la peur que tu as de la perdre. À ce moment-là, une seule pensée lui traverse l’esprit : 

“Oh, je tombe amoureuse”. 

Elle qui pensait faire face une nouvelle fois à une cause perdue, voir encore un amour tomber, tu viens de lui prouver que cette fois, ça pourrait être différent. Cette fois, elle peut s’autoriser à réellement tomber amoureuse sans avoir peur, tu seras toujours là pour la rattraper.

Katherine pose sa main contre la tienne, la caressant délicatement avant de t’embrasser avec passion. Tu réponds à son baiser tout en la rapprochant de toi autant que possible. Katherine se perd dans votre baiser qui, pour une fois, n’a pas le goût d’une future trahison, mais d’un amour pur.

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