#and uh. hes absolutely not going to go for a job that needs a bachelors degree or more &

[cleromancy]

i would be wayyyyyyy more likely to see tim pursuing higher education if he had graduated high school (~*new earth continuity post*~). bc what he did like about school was socializing with peers and the aspect of normalcy and like... hes absolutely not going to re-enroll back in hs atp. hed have to get his GED. and he... could do that. but he'd have to be motivated enough to want to go to college enough to schedule the GED i think months in advance plus needing to wait for the next semester of whatevwr gotham community college hes looking at to start... And Also the very high chance that he would miss his appointment for the test LMAO like it would be incredibly on brand for him to sleep through it or like be stuck in, idk, brussels or someplace on a mission and misremember the time difference. furthermore after a certain point hes gonna start feeling like he missed his window particularly if what he *actually* wants is to be around normal ppl his age and feel tethered... like at that point just go see if ives has a tabletop rpg thing going u can join baby yk

[cvlutos]

"Kindergarten Teacher"

| 01.30.23 | 1.3K | Rated PG |

DILF!NRC Staff X GN!Reader

Characters 18+ | Fluff | Sweet | Dilfs | Implied Age Gaps (But elusive, So not really) | Vargas being weird| Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |

T.Manor.Notes: @hideousvoid Void. I blame you cause im slightly a Mozus Fan.

You work at your local elementary school, a simple kindergarten teacher. Taking care of kids and children all day and doing your job well. Well enough until you catch the attention of five handsome bachelors.

♡ DIRE CROWLEY

One very energetic five-year-old son, Keiran, who is often getting into trouble. Who is also very spoiled by his father, who you assume is only in his 30s. He’s weird, always the very first parent to drop his son and the very last parent to pick up his son. Who is always kind though sometimes inconveniences you, by arriving later than he’s supposed to. His ex-wife sometimes retrieves their son, and she absolutely despises him. Won't hesitate to speak badly about him, though she seems kind enough.

“Hey-llo!”

His voice is loud and sucks you from your thoughts as you turn from the toy section and dusting off your hands. Dire Crowley has a grin across his lips, the usual gold mask covering the upper half of his face. You aren’t sure why he wears it, nor have you ever asked. You glance at the clock, 30 minutes late, again. He notices the restrained sigh and gives a sheepish grin. “I know. I know—”

You move across the room, gently shaking Keiran’s shoulders, seeing as he fell asleep. “Ill make it up to you. Promise.” The boy mumbles and shifts, before waking up with a soft yawn. “[Name]~ You know i will. How bout dinner?” You usher Keiran towards the door, holding his hand and giving the man a knowing look. You can’t go on dates with parents. “I know that look. Promise. It’s completely professional.”

You watch Keiran, half-asleep, latch to his father’s leg, before looking at the man before you. He has an earnest smile and you sigh. “Only if it’s professional. Nothing else.”

Dire is dedicated. One professional date turned into two, then two turned into five. Which was quickly spread cause of Keiran telling the next door classroom teacher, who teases you profusely about liking the elusive man. While Crowley is more than pleased and very public about him pursing you, while remaining “professional”.

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ DIVUS CREWEL

He has a sassy and quite smart six-year-old daughter, Belle, who many call Bonnie. She’s a real chatterbox and quite popular amongst her peers with impeccable fashion taste like her father. Who is very intimidating and quite punctual. Never a moment late. He’s extremely intimidating, yet most of the teachers gather for his appearance. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Same with his ex-wife, who is also quite intimidating and snappy, like it’s amazing just how well they look together even if they aren’t together.

“[Name].”

Divus’ voice seems to echo as several other kindergarten teachers watch the scene unfold. You kneeling, helping Bonnie fix her dress which some boy ruined, that had her crying, while Divus had his usual unreadable scowl. “Uh—yes.” You’ve seen other students get scolded as if children by Crewel and the last thing you needed is to be dragged to hell and back for his daughter crying. He doesn’t respond, kneeling beside you, and pulling a black and white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his daughter’s tears.

“We save our tears for private and so none receive satisfaction.” He speaks to his daughter, smoothing out the expensive material of her ruined dress, before turning his head to you once she stopped crying.

“I would like to invite you to an event with me and Belle. She really favors you.”

You look at the girl, watching her curls bounce as she nods, a pretty smile spreading across her lips. “I want you to go.” And how could you refuse?

You smile in return, “Id love too.”

Divus is the definition of perfect and an absolute gentleman. After the event with the father-daughter duo, both treat you extremely differently at work. Bonnie was far nicer than she was before and always asks you to visit, while Divus takes a moment to greet you and speak to you, much to the other teachers dismay. Sometimes on the rarest occasions, you’ll find the freshest bouquet of red roses on your desk, which only meet Bonnie’s giggles when you ask.

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ MOZUS TREIN

Now he already has two daughters, but you see him when he comes to pick up his five-year-old grandson, Edward, and his eight-year-old granddaughter, Ana, who’s in a different classroom. Mozus makes a special appearance, always arriving posed and perfect, an older man, who only smiles at the sight of his grandchildren. You’ve spoken to him once about bullying that was happening and he applauded you for helping his grandson, who was an absolute people pleaser.

“Excellent job. I thank you for having enticing programs. I wish half the teacher taught as such.”

Delicate finger picked and plucked at the invisible dust of his refined coat, before flicking him off and looking at you lazily, almost like a cat. You give a sheepish smile.

“Of course—“

“But I do have some adjustments if you don’t mind me sharing,” he trails off, a thin smile across his lips as he watches Edward shove his school work into his bag, a chocolate chip cookie hanging past his lips as he tries to be fast. “Tea. Sometime this weekend if your free. To better enrich your curriculum.”

“I—okay.”

You aren’t into older men, at least, you shouldn’t be. Yet he has the most poise and grace. He never raises his volume, never yells, and finds tactful ways to show his own displeasure. He’s also extremely smart, giving the most useful tips for your lesson plans, all while petting his cat, Lucius, who merely stares at you.

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ ASHTON VARGAS

He’s a lot. And unlike the other teachers, you never see him pick up his son, Adam, never once. It’s only his ex-girlfriend, who is a very quiet and put together woman. You ran into Ashton while at the gym, whether for yourself or a friend, for moral support. He noticed you before you noticed him. Yelling at you with a wide grin, while surround by men. If you hadn’t known better, you’d assume he was gay.

“Ah! [Name]! Just the person I wanted to see.”

You have an uncomfortable grin while he chats away. Questioning you about his ex-girlfriend. If she was seeing someone, if she brought that scrawny dude Johnathan with her when she came. (Which she has, and he was extremely sweet, plus he and Ashton’s Ex have been together for nearly 3 years. But you’re not gonna tell him that.) He grilled you for a good 30 minutes before stopping and looking your over.

“Actually. In better lighting, you are quite attractive.”

After that, you could not get rid of him. He was adamant on picking up his son, who was just as confused as you and his mother. While Ashton flirted with the other ladies, before sending you a wave and enormous smile and going on his merry way.

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ SAM

The youngest man out of all the parents with a daughter, Tia, who is just the sweetest, while also insanely odd. She spends most of her time alone and doing her own thing. And oddly, you’re the only person she smiles at. And often bring you homemade gifts. While her father scares you every time he visits, always popping up from the shadows with a grin.

“Heyy~”

He waves, one of the later parents, always busy and just back from working, which you know from talking with Tia. Who’s also as silent as her father, appearing randomly all prepared to go. Before stopping and waving at you, with a very happy goodbye, which surprises Sam a lot, but nonetheless chuckles.

You run into in his shop for a quick snack after work, which turns into you spending nearly two hours with them. Since Tia needed homework help, and was insistent you help and not her dad, cause ‘he liked making up stuff’ which Sam never denied. You end up spending a lot of time with them.

══════ ♡ ══════

“Now. Who would you choose?”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[abiiors]

Omg omg what about Ross’ reaction finding out that you are pregnant? That man is going to be the death of me 😭😭😭

omg omg omg okay 😭😭

i've already mentioned that you find out you're pregnant with april a week before your wedding. everything is already so stressful and chaotic. every single last minute change and finalisation is happening all at once and you haven't even had the time to breathe until you put your foot down and take the evening off just to relax a bit.

it's anything but relaxing though.

you see the notification pop up while you're scrolling through reels--your period tracking app reminding you to log your period in. it's innocent enough, you know you've forgotten to log it in in the past and received similar notifications but this one makes you sit up.

ross, next to you, also sits up in confusion.

"you alright?"

"yeah, uh... ross. fuck!" you swear so softly that he barely even hears it at first but the way your face goes pale alerts him. "fuck, two weeks!"

"what's two weeks? everything alright? you're scaring me babe!"

you wag the phone screen in front of him as if that's instantly going to clue him in but the confusion on his face remains the same.

"my period! it's two weeks late, it's... shit."

"o...kay?" he takes a deep breath and turns you towards him. "let's not jump to conclusions okay? do you think it could be the wedding stress?"

you wrack your brain to see if this explanation fits. to remember if you did indeed have your period and forgot about it in the middle of all the chaos. but absolutely nothing comes to mind. until... until another memory resurges.

both of you returning home drunk from your respective bachelor parties, coincidentally at the same time. sloppily fucking each other in the living room. and you can't remember if you used any protection.

"ross..." you squeeze your eyes shut as more of the memory plays in front of you. "remember the night of my hen do?"

he doesn't need to answer it because he pales visibly and curses softly under his breath.

"okay. okay here's what we will do, alright? just... i don't know, just lie down and i'll run to the shop and pick up a few tests if you want. how does that sound?"

he says all of it so quickly that you barely have the time to understand but you nod frantically and watch him run out the room.

---

twenty minutes later, he's back home--slightly out of breath and wide eyed but there's unmistakable excitement on his face. and something that suspiciously looks like... hope.

"ross..."

"i know, i know," he says, "we don't know yet but... fuck, okay! just take the test, okay? let's do that first."

and so you do. you do your business and keep the three tests on the counter, trying not to look at them when you wash your hands and as you're setting the timer. when you open the bathroom door, ross is pacing outside.

"alright?"

you nod and then bury your face in his chest. "what if it's positive, do you want it to be positive?"

ross lifts your chin to make you look at him properly and then smiles softly. "do you want it to be positive? i would be honoured to have a baby with you, sweetheart. you already are my family. expanding it with you would be the greatest thing ever."

if you weren't already on the verge of tears, that would have done the job.

"hey..." he wipes them away softly. "i want this baby, love, but that doesn't mean you don't get a say in it. if you're not ready right now, we have the rest of our lives ahead of us, yeah?"

"i know... just," you sniffle, blinking the tears away, "i want--i want a baby with you so so badly. i'm just worried--"

"about the timing?"

"yeah... about that."

"we'll make it work, love. if... if this is really happening," his voice sounds thick with emotion and his eyes shine brightly, "if we are really having a baby, i'll do everything possible to make it easier on you."

you nod, letting yourself feel just a smidge of excitement at the prospect of it.

"and if it's negative?"

"then we can start trying whenever you want." he grins and steals a quick kiss. "we can start trying right now. or on our honeymoon, or at the wedding. i reckon you'd look absolutely delicious in your dress, mrs macdonald."

"can't call me that just yet," you giggle and wipe away the rest of the tears.

"too late," he smiles, "i've called you that in my head for at least two years now."

you're about to respond when the timer goes off and you look at him, part petrified, part nervous, and entirely hopeful.

"let's look together?" he holds his hand out for you to grab and you take it gratefully.

ten seconds later when you look at the definitive plus signs on all three tests, you know your life is about to change for the best.

[specialbluehens]

mother hen

based on this post i made about shane being an older sibling figure to the younger bachelors & bachelorettes. he's the disgruntled mom friend.

1. sam

Shane slumps into a chair and takes off that dreadful cap as he begins his legally designated 15 minute break at work. He knows if it weren't for the literal law that he wouldn't be given a break at all, especially with Morris stressing about customers that never show up. It's the same two or three people from town every day. Morris isn't going to get that through his thick skull, though. Shane sighs as rubs his eyes roughly with his palms, trying to fend off his exhaustion and mild hangover.

He's getting better. He hasn't cut himself off completely, but he's getting better. He can remember his nights now instead of select moments and then blurry images and distant noises. Shane sighs. He has a therapy appointment in a couple of days. He isn't enjoying therapy but it is starting to give him relief in a way he's never felt before. It's better. It's better, he reassures himself, despite the pressure in his chest yelling at him that he's a failure for not going cold turkey.

Shane slouches further down in the chair and tips his head so it rests on the back of the chair. These cushioned armchairs, as cheap and small and obnoxiously colored blue as they are, are the best things JojaMart has ever gotten. He shuts his eyes and listens to the sound of absolutely nothing in the break room. He's saved from the terrible repetitive pop music playlist on the floor. It's just him and the whirring of a nearby fan.

Until the door swings open and Sam comes barging in with a giddy smile and something in his hands. He's going to come over and try and show him isn't he?

"Shane!"

Shane groans and covers his face with his cap.

"C'mon! I gotta show you something!"

"No." Shane grumbles from under his cap. "Go away."

"Please?" Sam asks nicely, "I promise you will like it."

Shane grabs his cap and swings it down onto his lap. "What is it?"

Sam holds out a flier and beams. Shane sighs and snatches the paper and takes a look at it. It's an advertisement for a show in Zuzu City.

"Who's 'Goblin Destroyer?'" Shane asks.

"My band!" Sam says excitedly, hopping from foot to foot. "We got a gig! It's a small show but it's still in Zuzu City!"

Shane blinks and nods. "Alright, cool." He looks up at Sam, who's got the biggest hopeful puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. Sam is giving Jas a run for her money. "Uh… good job." He tries to say it and mean it. It's exactly what Sam is looking for, because Sam somehow grins even wider and giddily jumps up and down.

"You totally gotta come!"

Shane purses his lips together. Go to their concert? He can't remember the last time he'd been to a concert, especially given how tickets usually cost more money than he has. Except, Sam and his band can't be expensive. It's their first show and probably at a small concert venue or in a club in Zuzu City, which most of the time is free. He has no reason to not go other than he doesn't know if he wants (or can handle) being in a potential crowd.

But Sam is waiting patiently and quietly. This means a lot to him.

Shane sighs, "Yeah, I can go. I just need the date and time."

"Really?!" Sam nearly shouts. "And everything is on the flier, plus everybody from here who's coming will be on the bus together. Pam agreed to it," He explains.

"Ah," Shane says, reading the flier again and seeing yes, all of the information is there. "Erm, your mom going?"

"Her and Vince are going, yea," Sam sounds less excited but he's still happy. "I'm not sure Mom will like the music too much, she doesn't like it when we practice in the house, but I think my dad would like it."

"Mmm," Shane hums.

"My dad isn't going to be home until next year," Sam says, his demeanor shifting into what Shane can only describe as sullen. "It's been weird, getting ready for it even though it's a whole two seasons away."

Shane isn't sure what to say to that. He never had much of a family growing up, and what little he remembers of his father are more images than true moving memories. Flashes.

"He's been gone since Vince was a toddler," Sam says. "We had just moved to the valley when it happened." Shane knows all of this already, this isn't the first time Sam has told him about it. Sam tends to repeat it a lot.

"I mean, I'm an adult now, y'know?"

"You're an adult?" Shane teases dryly. He smirks as Sam leans over and gives him a light slap on the knee.

"I'm being serious, dude," Sam says, "I just… I'm doing great things and he's not even here. I've been told he didn't have a choice but then there's so many people whose dads are here and weren't shipped off to the war. Did he have no choice?"

"Sam there wasn't a draft, and there hopefully won't be one anytime soon. So no, your father wasn't forced," Shane states matter-of-factly. He didn't plan on continuing further, but Sam's look of defeat…

"But, by 'no choice', probably meant in looking for a job. People who aren't doing well sometimes feel like the military's all they can do and be guaranteed some benefits at the end of it. Why did y'all move to Pelican Town?" Shane asks.

"It was too expensive in Zuzu," Sam says.

"Do you know why I moved to Pelican Town? Why did I move in with my aunt?"

"Because it was too expensive in Zuzu City."

"Right, and that was just me and Jas," Shane says, "Two of us. Y'all are a family of four. I can't imagine how hard it was."

"... Yeah…" Sam murmurs.

"Look, your old man was doing what was best at the time. He's gonna be different when he comes back."

"Yeah, in his letter he said he was different. I found it in my mom's room."

"Don't go snooping in your mom's room," Shane scolds. He clears his throat to switch off the "talking to Jas aka a child" mindset. "All I'm saying is, maybe this," Shane passes back the flier. "This'll be something he can enjoy when he gets back."

"I hope so," Sam says. "I don't know what I'd do if he doesn't like it."

"He'll like it," Shane says, "And even if he doesn't, he'll still be proud. He's your dad. He'd be crazy if he wasn't proud of you."

"You think so? Sometimes I don't even know if my mom is proud of me."

"She's going to be proud of you when she sees you on that stage. I know I'd be."

"... You would?"

"Mhm."

Sam looks at the flier and his face scrunches, deep in thought. Shane checks the clock and sees he's a couple minutes past his break. He sighs and he stands up, stretching his arms up to try, popping his back. Before he can leave, Sam is wrapping his arms tightly around Shane and squeezing.

"Sam?!"

"Thank you," Sam breathes.

Shane awkwardly pats Sam's back. "Er… you're welcome?"

Sam lets go and hurries off out of the breakroom. He probably wasn't even supposed to be back here, let alone for an entire 15 minute break. Shane sighs as he drags his feet to the door.

"That was weird," He murmurs to himself. He ignores the lightness in his chest. It was weird.

As long as the kid's happy though, right?

Shane questions if it was worth it as Morris yells at him for being late coming back from his break. He sees Sam behind Morris, mopping as usual as if he hadn't gone to the breakroom and is the reason Shane is late. Shane sighs again.

He'll take the blame for it this time.

This time, he tells himself, despite it not being the first time.

It probably won't be the last.

[some-little-infamy]

Missing Signs

(Read on AO3) “I'm worried about you.” It takes every ounce of willpower Buck has to say the words. He knows that Eddie's been better lately, since his last bout of panic attacks - he's been more open, more honest about admitting when things were weighing on his mind. At least, Buck thought he was.

Maybe Eddie truly didn't see it as a problem. He came to Buck with his Marisol concerns about the whole nun thing, after all. It isn't like Eddie’s shutting him out entirely. It's just this one thing… this one really big thing.

Maybe Buck's getting ahead of himself. Maybe Eddie told Bobby, or Frank, or Hen… anyone else at all about this whole Kim thing. He knows that should be reassuring, but considering it only manages to make Buck feel worse somehow. He's supposed to be the one Eddie goes to for things like this.

“Yeah, I'm worried about me, too,” Eddie admits, so quietly Buck almost thinks he imagined it.

That’s when it hits him - Eddie does know how bad this is. He knows how deep he’s in under his head, and not only has he acknowledged it, he’s thought about it enough to be worried about it.

And Buck missed it.

How many signs were there? Has Eddie been quieter than usual around the firehouse, or during their chatter over the comms to and from jobs? What about outside of work… God, Buck can’t remember the last time he and Eddie spent time outside of work besides the bachelor party. They used to get together multiple times a week, and now…

…now Buck spends all of his free time with Tommy. It’s where he was headed before he intercepted the brownies from Kim. It’s where he was the night before, and the one before that. Hell, he would’ve spent more time with Tommy than Eddie at the Bachelor party if Tommy didn’t have to leave.

Buck’s been so wrapped up in the changes of his own life, too distracted by chasing his own happiness, that he absolutely failed to see the spiral Eddie must’ve been in since he first met Kim. There’s no way this hasn’t been on Eddie’s mind, eating away at him. There’s no way he hasn’t questioned every single second he’s kept this from Christopher, or even Marisol.

And Buck wasn’t there for him.

If Buck only paid a little more attention, or been around more often, maybe he would’ve noticed sooner. Almost immediately Buck feels like he’s living through Maddie’s secret all over again - missing all the signs because he was too busy doing things for himself, too busy being so goddamn happy that he wasn’t around to see the obvious signs. The revelation hits him hard, his breath catching in his throat, every muscle in his body tensing instinctively.

Eddie didn’t want to ruin Buck’s happiness by unloading his own issues. Buck gets that… but If he’d known, maybe he could’ve helped, or at least talked this through before Eddie took things too far.

Maybe there’s still time for that. Eddie and Kim haven’t done anything besides go out a few times, if Eddie’s telling Buck the truth.

“Do you want to talk about-”

“No,” Eddie cuts off Buck’s offer before he can get the offer out. “No. It’s fine. Thanks for, uh… for this. And not saying anything to her.”

It’s obvious that Eddie wants to shut any talk of this down, but Buck isn’t so easily deterred. Buck wants to make up for not being here for Eddie sooner. He wants to know that Eddie still trusts him. Buck needs to know that he hasn’t managed to accidentally edge out the person in his life who knows him best, and who he thought he knew best in return.

“Eddie-” Buck begins. “I’m fine,” Eddie says, more forcefully this time. “I know I have some stuff to work out, I just… need time. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, trying his best not to sound hurt. “Yeah. It’s… I’ll just…” Buck flounders, unsure of what he should say when it’s obvious Eddie doesn’t want him to say or do anything. It all feels too little, too late now. “Enjoy the brownies.” Buck doesn’t look behind him as he leaves, not sure what would hurt more - to see pain in Eddie’s expression as he goes, or to see nothing at all.

[sailtomarina]

Are you even aware of your presence?

He had no clue of the effect he had on his surroundings, catching the eyes of witches and wizards alike with his natural warmth and near-effortless ingenuity. Following Voldemort’s defeat and his own role in Nagini’s demise, Neville went on to take the magic world by storm. He started with his herbology mastery, publishing subsequent studies and discoveries of new and existing plant life. 

Together with Draco and Hermione Granger-Malfoy, he founded a potions company that far outstripped any previous and present competitors. They were media darlings, with Neville Longbottom taking the front and center spot as a still eligible and desirable bachelor.

His singlehood certainly wasn’t a result of anyone’s lack of trying.  He seemed impervious to hints and blatant proposals alike, brushing them off with a cock of his head and an endearing smile.

Pansy wondered how he did it. How did he turn down romance without hurting anyone’s feelings? She’d seen the encounters firsthand countless times by now, having worked as head of public relations for M.G.L. (Malfoy Granger Longbottom) since its inception. The denied party walked away often happier than they’d arrived, as if all the weight on their shoulders had lifted.

Just like now.

She watched as a witch, passingly pretty despite her atrocious yellow dress that did absolutely nothing for her complexion, approached Neville Longbottom the moment he stood alone. As with all the others, he gave her his full attention, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners as his lips widened into a genuine smile.

The two exchanged words before he bowed, pressing lips to the swooning woman’s hand, and turned to make his way towards Pansy. 

“What have you done now?” she asked in exasperation once he came to a standstill before her.

He might have grown up to become one of the most admirable wizards of their generation with the good looks to match, but he constantly caused Pansy distress. Some days it was missing accessories and others it was a forgotten appointment. He frequently requested her fashion help for public appearances—by now, she knew his home as intimately as her own and was keyed in to his Floo and wards.

“I was hoping you’d go over my acceptance speech one more time, especially because…” his voice trailed off as he tugged at his coffee-colored hair and grimaced.

“You what?” 

His eyes widened at her rising tone and he backed up a single step. “I, uh, might have misplaced my notes.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath, Pansy fought to maintain control. When she reopened her eyes, she nearly relented at his puppy-dog eyes. 

Circe help her.

“Alright, follow me. I have a backup copy.” She nearly laughed at the immediate way he perked up, recovering his energy as readily as one of her mother’s corgis.

She led the way in her 4-inch heels and midnight green dress robes, legs flashing through the slit running all the way to mid-thigh. Even with her added height and straight-backed stride, she still only came up to Neville’s chin.

“Parkinson. I just need my purse,” she said to the man at the coat check. She tapped her foot impatiently while she waited.

“I’m really sorry about this, Pansy.” He once again looked contrite, face nearly level to her own with his slouch.

“Don’t be; this is part of my job.” She couldn’t help softening her tone in the face of his embarrassment. Pansy stepped close to press a firm hand to his back, robes brushing against his legs and perfume surrounding him in a distinct, but light, scent. “Stand up straight.”

He snapped to attention, catching her off guard with the sudden movement. In her haste to back up, a heel caught the trailing end of her robe and she started to fall backwards. With the reflexes that first earned him his post-war reputation, he darted forward to catch her, arms circling and pulling her back against his body.

They stood just like that for what seemed like a moment of forever, his arms pressing them close, her hands flat against his chest and soaking in his warmth. They breathed each other in, hearts beating in sync.

Until a cough broke the spell.

“Miss Parkinson? I have your purse here.”

The voice startled them into motion, his arms dropping, her feet stepping away. She accepted her bag with her back to him fully prepared to place Neville at an appropriate distance, but as Pansy turned around she face planted straight back into his stupidly firm chest. Large hands caught her again, this time removing themselves the instant she rebalanced. He didn’t step away.

“Are you even aware of your presence?!” she sputtered, blinking tears away to rub at her tender nose.

“Are you?”

The tilt in his uncharacteristic comment caught her attention and she looked up sharply to see a very un-Neville-like smirk on his face. Bloody Malfoy. First Hermione, and now Neville. The prat was going to have the entire company smirking like him and giving Pansy neverending trouble.

“I am more aware than most, thank you very much.” Reaching inside her bag, she located the correct sheet and pressed it into his stomach. “Here you go.”

“Aren’t you going to listen to me rehearse?” 

The eyes were back and gazing down at her. From their intimate proximity, Pansy felt like they were drawing her up and into their orbit. She couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. “If that’s what you still want.”

Perfect white teeth nearly blinded her from his tanned face, and it was as she was still recovering that he pulled her hand into his, leading her into the nearest unlocked door.

“Do you mean it?” His tone had returned to the strange one from before, expression intent on examining her own. 

“Of course I’ll listen to your speech. It’s literally my job.”

This was getting ridiculous. Pansy felt like they were unsuspecting actors on a stage for everyone’s amusement. Look at how they clash!

“No, did you mean it when you said that you’re aware of me? More aware than others?”

Pansy took in the hand that still held her own, looking more carefully at his present countenance and thinking back on past interactions.

Oh.

“You like me.” The sentence sounded preposterous. It couldn’t possibly be true despite all evidence to the contrary.

“I more than like you.”

“…It’s mutual.”

“I know.”

She swallowed hard at the words. Neville Longbottom liked her, Pansy Parkinson. 

“You don’t need help with your speech, do you?”

“Not really.”

His smile and the glint in his eye compelled Pansy to close the distance between them. They still had half an hour until he walked on stage. “Whatever shall we do with ourselves?”

Did she refer to it as the Malfoy smirk earlier? Correction: the sly grin that grew across his features was very much its own trademark, one Pansy endeavored to claim as her own.

WC 1160 I am utterly incapable of drabble-length fics Twitter prompt from @PanvillePrompts

[irresistiibles]

was that dev patel? oh no no, that was just jonathan sims, a canon character from the magnus archives. they are thirty one years old, use he/they, and are not aware that they are not actually from washington dc. too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here

probably like 8 months but he believes he's lived here 13 years.

what is your character’s job

he works as an archivist for the national archives (and has worked in the past at george washington university as an archivist and honestly preferred that and might wind up going back to it especially once he's aware again)

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

see that's a great question and kinda why he's unaware until i finish this relisten. he's not gonna be unaware too too long but i'm trying to figure out if i want him more middle of the series around season 2 or 3 or more at the end. if other people bring characters i'll probably see about potentially matching that or not to cause problems

has any magic affected your character

memories are gone!

more info:

**i'm going to keep spoilers light though it will mention some abilities jon has which are spoilers for like season 3? but i won't go into details about how or why he has those abilities

so unimportant but according to the wiki both john and jon are fine as spellings and i'll mostly be using jon.

head archivist from the magnus archives it's jon's job to go through statements from people about things of potentially paranormal activity

it's a horror podcast so obviously things devolve pretty fast but i won't get too far into it.

he's not the easiest to get along with in first meeting. he can come across as pretty rude and dismissive and condescending. he prioritizes his work over being nice and isn't the best at being social

but they are nice, they just aren't very good at being nice. jon can get very in his own head and tends to trust himself far more than others, which obviously leads to him being uh, just kinda obnoxious sometimes idk how else to say it

he thinks he moved to dc at 18 from britain in order to get his bachelor and masters in the us and wound up staying there after being offered a good job opportunity he couldn't turn up, so while he didn't grow up in dc he's been here a while

they're aware of the weirdness in dc, and have been doing some independent research on it, though jon is sure there's a reasonable explanation for it all that just hasn't been discovered yet

records all his research on a tape recorder of course.

honestly right now he's easier to get along with than he would be with his memories. yeah, they're a bit standoffish, and too smart for his own good with a tendency to pry, but jon is relatively nice beyond that and can be a bit of a pushover and easy to get around.

has some light powers of compulsion but does not know this at the moment and definitely has the chance to do it by accident. this is mostly used in terms of compelling people to answer questions he asks and we can definitely plot stuff with this is desired

asexual and biromantic

potential plots:

anyone he knows from work. government officials who have gone to him to retrieve records, students, what have you. listen my knowledge on legit archivist work is light but we'll make it work

a roommate as long as they're cool having a cat

some friends? honestly he's not hard to push into friendship if you can deal with their personality

definitely friends that drag him out to a bar or cafe or whatever because otherwise he will work late nights and weekends the guy needs to get out

someone they butt heads with, maybe met through work or something similar. jon is so easy to butt heads with if you take first impressions seriously.

maybe a barista jon sees all the time. he gets a lot of tea and would have a preferred particular order so

someone could absolutely get him hooked on energy drinks

some one off dates either past or present

since he's trying to research washington if your muse is aware and wants to talk about home or any of the crazy events jon would love to do an interview

i'll come up with more as i add him to my plot doc.

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[adam-banks2024]

going to eden hall’s cotillion with adam banks

you were super nervous about the dance

it was one week away and you still didn’t have anyone to go with

at this point you thought you’d have to go alone

and you were excited

this was gonna be different than anything that you’ve ever went to before

yeah, you went to prom when you were a sophomore at a smaller school, and you went to winter formal in january, but you had never gone to anything as fancy as this before

you didn’t even know what it was at first

big thank you to google

as soon as you learned that it was a “fancy french dance” as russ put it, you started picking up more hours at your part time job

you didn’t need anything super extravagant or expensive, but you wanted to look nice and feel pretty

you talked to charlie about it almost everyday, and he seemed as excited about it as you

“i think i’m gonna ask lisa”

“what kinda tux should i get?”

“what kinda flowers do girls like?”

yada yada

you helped him with everything, of course

and he helped you pick out a dress, and a corsage, the whole shabang

and so the only thing left was to get a date

easy right

haha

laugh out louddddd

no.

but charlie was optimistic

he knew that you liked someone, but he didn’t know who it was

julie and connie didn’t even know so he knew there was no hope trying to find out

so you collectively agreed to find someone to go with as friends

you talked to ken first

made a really nice poster board, and made some ice skating puns

he looked super happy, and he laughed the whole time you were embarrassing yourself with your cheesy poster

he said thanks

but apparently...

he was

going with

A SENIOR GIRL

like damn ken okay

i see u

so you were upset

but kinda proud of him

so that meant it was on to the next person

russ? maybe

yeah

he’s be funny, plus it wouldn’t be awkward with him

so you get him some candy instead of a poster board, and walked up to him during lunch

“thanks, but averman, goldberg, and i are going together. kind of like a bachelors thing, yknow?”

you sighed

that takes out one more person

who else who else

DWAYNE

you could ask dwayne, and he’d be a gentleman, and you’d have an amazing time

you ditched the candy, borrowed a cowboy hat, and gave him a sunflower and asked him

he thought the gesture was sweet, and he was obsessed with the flower

“i think i’ll name him bob”

bless his heart

But He Said He Was Already Going With A Girl From A Different School.

cool. cool. cool

fulton! he’s chill!

you’d probably have a comfortable night with him and still have a good time

you game him a card with a hockey puck on it, with some cheesy saying about hitting hockey pucks too hard

you didn’t know

this was like the umpteenth guy you asked

he laughed at the gesture and thanked you for the card

“sorry y/n, but i’m going with portman. date night yknow?”

*sigh*

you understood

because let’s be honest that’s cute

but now that rules everyone out

except for him

but no because you’ve seen a million girls ask him

so you figured it’d be best if you went alone

you even considered going with julie but she’s going with scooter

IGHHSKABDVEIEJTBBRBE

why is this so harrrd

“i could talk to adam?”

charlie kept insisting

you kept saying no because you didn’t want a pity date

“i can just meet you all there”

that sounded a lot less sad in your head

“just ask him tomorrow, please?”

fine.

you decided that you’d ask him

on friday

“y/N tHaTs ThE dAy BeFoRe ThE DaNcE”

itll be fine

except it wasn’t fine

you worked your ass off the whole week leading up to friday

you worked everyday, you had exams all week, and you still had hockey practice

you were dead by friday

sweats to class, energy drink in hand, bags under your eyes

and your slippers

you had zero cares today

then you remEMBERED

charlie would absolutely murder you if you didn’t end up asking

so you said screw it (:

you and adam saw each other every day during 5th hour because you both had a free period then

you guys usually hung out and giggled like little kids

but that’s usually where it ended

if he saw you in the halls he would lend a nod, but that’s about the extent of things

so you thought hey, just ask him then

aha. he did a double take when he saw you walk in the library

“are you feeling okay?”

“yeah just tired. working like hell for this stupid cotillion”

he just looked confused

“not everyone has money to burn, cake eater”

he looked embarrassed now

shit

“nono, i didn’t mean it like that. i- i’m just tired”

he shook his head as he smiled and gestures for you to sit down

uh oh

now is the time

where you have to say the thing

nonono

“hey so,...uh!”

“yep?”

why does he lOOK SO GOOD

“so i asked, like, almost everyone...”

great now you sound pathetic

“...and they’ve just been busy so it’s cool...”

you’re just digging yourself deeper

“...but i still don’t have a date to the cotillion, so... would you— wanna go?”

he sat in silence for a moment

so you’re just gonna take that as a no

“what, no poster board, or candies, or sentimental cards?

w h a t

“you mean you saw all that?”

“kinda, yeah”

“o h”

now you didn’t know what to say. you just felt bad

“but yes. i’d love to go”

you did it.

he said yes?!

bet

YOU GUYS HAD SO MUCH FUN

he took you out to a nice restaurant

complimented your dress

your hair

your face

yes your face

AHHHHH this boy

and he actually danced with you?

some songs he knew came on and you were just jumping up and down in the middle of the dance floor

you guys even...

slowdanced

gasp

he was an awkward distance from you, not wanting to overstep your boundaries

but you pulled him closer

and he thought it was nice :)))))

at the end of the night you two were beat

he even walked you back to your dorm room which was in a building opposite than his was :,)

“well, it’s been an amazing night. and now i get to walk across campus”

and then

then you

INVITED HIM INTO YOUR DORM?

wtf

so yeah

he seemed giddy

and you offered him some sleeping clothes

and you slept on separate sides of the bed

and then you got a little closer

and then a little more closer...

and then y’all were cuddling

need i say more?

so yeah, it was just a really nice night for you two :))))

[imaginewarehouse]

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!  

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure) 

🔆  🔆  🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly. 

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

~

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

~

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

~

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

~

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

~

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

~

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death.  “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“  

~

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

~

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

~

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 2: Survivor’s Guilt

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Javier is confronted with the stakes of losing an important coworker and friend as the reader gets injured during a chase. But grief and hospitals aren’t really his scene. The reader finds out the extent of her injuries and condition, leaving her shocked to the core.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of injury, angst and some fluff

Masterlist

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DEA agents were hurt and killed almost daily, that was just the way things were with the cartel. Pablo didn’t care about who they were or what their legacy was, married or not, children or not, to Escobar they were just the enemy’s pawns. Javier Peña was well-aware of this and therefore rarely turned his head when another death within the office was called. He didn’t do funerals, he did women and drinking instead. In a time of war there was no time for grieving, he believed it to be a weakness of the flesh much worse than indulging in the warmth of a prostitute or colleague every now and then. This had become a routine for him and while it ate away at his conscience he never once considered giving up his bachelor-lifestyle. Never until today.

The narco screamed as Javier tackled him to the asphalt, brutally bending his arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs around his wrists. He opened his mouth to yell something out to Carillo when he heard the echo of two gunshots, followed by a cry. As his ears registered the pitch and tone, he made it out to be you. His head shot up immediately, already in desperate search of the source of your whereabouts.

Carillo took the detained from his clammy hands, leaving Javier to find you. Everything went quiet and all he could hear in that moment of utter panic was his obscene breathing and rapid heartbeat. When he rounded the corner, seeing Steve’s back turned to him, a pool of broken glass and legs he could only assume were yours he felt his heart drop. Murphy was frantically babbling into his radio as Javier stepped closer, the blood on the floor sickening.

He stood still next to Steve, watching the way your relaxed body laid in his arms, unmoving. “Is she-“

“No”, Steve replied quickly, beckoning for Javier to take his spot. “Stay with her, I’m getting the med kit from the car.”

He hesitantly sat down on his knees, the glass scraping against the fabric of his jeans as he gently pulled you onto his upper thighs. He spotted the burnt fabric on your vest and thanked his stupid teasing for having secured it earlier. It was as if you were just asleep, eyes closed, a peaceful look settling on your features. That’s what he told himself, she’s just resting, it’s been a long day, she’s fine, just tired.

Usually when you were sprawled out in his arms it was after another heated round of mind-numbing sex, naked and glistening with sweat. He thought of the way you looked then, skin glowing with pleasure, lips curled up in the most mesmerizing smile, eyelids fluttering closed as he trailed his long fingers over your chest. Rather than being covered in each other’s sweat, he found his hands stained with your vibrant-red blood and rather than trailing his fingertips across the curve of your breasts his left hand rested on the back of your head, hair sticking to itself from the mixture of sweat and blood.

It was a horror, the otherwise so lively and feisty woman appearing dead. The more he thought of it, the more he started shaking, panicking, checking for a heartbeat despite hearing your soft breaths. He couldn’t stand the idea of never getting to apologize to you, never having you curled up against his chest again, laughing about something stupid. The mere possibility of never seeing you at that desk again, stuffing your mouth with whatever the kitchen had to offer, completely dropping the “ladylike” act in front of your two partners, it tugged right at his heartstrings.

When Steve returned, putting some balled up spare clothes underneath you to keep them from cutting you up even more, Javier was dead silent and pale with terror. He gave his fellow agent a death glare when he gently shifted her body back to the floor, his arms tightening around you. “We need to get her vest off and check her chest”, Steve commanded, Javier finally loosening his grip, allowing you to lay on the makeshift “bed”.

“Ambulance?”, he breathed.

“Still on the way”, Steve huffed as he carefully undid the several buckles and straps on your vest.

As the two frantic men were bickering back and forth accusing the other one of not being careful enough or being a blatant idiot you slowly came to. A soft whine left your lips as you blinked a couple of times, the bright daylight inducing the absolute worst headache you ever felt. Soon the two of them were hovering over you, asking a myriad of questions while you were just trying to put two and two together. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move an inch, your entire body just aching and seemingly on fire. As you registered the severity of your fall, your breathing started to speed up, the two fussing men not helping you with your oncoming panic attack. Javier rested a bloodied hand on your cheek in an attempt to calm you down, he was whispering something to you, in Spanish, fingers stroking back and forth in a gentle motion. You tried to speak but found yourself unable to, a tear of frustration falling out of the corner of your eye.

“Cariño, quédate conmigo, por favor”, he muttered, “Está bien, la ambulancia llegará pronto.” (Stay with me, it’s okay, the ambulance will be here soon).

He hadn’t been this soft with you in weeks and the longer you stared up at him through your heavy eyes, the guiltier he felt about it. With every blink your eyes struggled more and more to open again, your body urging, begging you to just rest. You were defenceless against yourself, the sustained injuries asking just too much of you, and soon you were out again, breathing steadying once again. Javier bit his tongue trying to ground himself and keep calm as he heard the wailing sirens in the distance. Steve had been taken your vest of by now, lifting your shirt to reveal nasty bruises on your chest, the vest had saved your life. Javier said a prayer right there and then, thanking whatever entity up above responsible for saving you, for letting you stay with him.

When the paramedics took over and removed the two of them from the scene they were in a trance-like state. Steve had been through this before, back in the states he’d lost his partner, which had proven to him just how powerful drugs were. Death was just a part of the job, but losing a partner, that shit was personal.

 How they managed to get to the hospital unscathed was beyond anyone’s understanding, but as Steve sat in the waiting room with sweet Connie holding his hand, Javier was angry. It should’ve been him, he had told you not to go, but you just wouldn’t fucking listen. They didn’t even catch the guy, which maybe wasn’t the worst outcome, seeing how Javier would have absolutely murdered him with his bare hands.

“Javier just sit down, this isn’t helping anyone”, Connie spoke up, clearly having had enough of the man’s continuous pacing. “Why don’t you get yourself a coffee or something, you could be here another couple hours.”

She did have a point, you’d been in surgery for little over an hour and with every passing minute his need to just run off was getting more and more prominent. But he knew that the doctor could walk through those doors any minute as well, so he wanted to stay put, for you.

Upon seeing his partner’s lack of movement, Steve stood up. “How about I go get us those coffees then”, he offered.

Being alone with just Connie, a close friend of yours, made him feel even more nervous. Luckily for him the doors swung open before any kind of conversation could be started. Revealing the doctor that had rushed you away earlier. Your two friends went to stand, politely nodding at the doctor.

“The patient is stable, she suffered a broken collarbone which we managed to fix into place during surgery. She also sustained a concussion and a laceration to the back of the head which has been closed up. And uh she has some contusions among minor cuts over the body, nothing to be too worried about.” Javier and Connie sighed in relief. “But I need to speak to Steve Murphy, he was listed as Miss y/l/n’s emergency contact.”

“That’s my husband, he’s gone to get some coffee, should be back any second”, Connie replied, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Can we go see her?”

“The patient’s waking up just now, so she’ll be out of it for a little bit.” With that he led them to your room, carefully opening the dim room, quickly adding that it had to do with the smack to the head you’d suffered.

Javier and Connie sat on either side of the bed, the doctor quickly leaving the room almost bumping into Steve on the way out. When he introduced himself the doctor whisked him away, presumably to have that confidential chat.

A quiet sob drew Javier’s attention back to the scene in front of him, nothing that Connie had started to cry, carefully holding your hand in hers. “Careful with that, we still need that back at the office, evidence”, he joked, eliciting a sad smile from his friend.

“Just look at her Javi, she must’ve been so scared.”

He looked at the IV’s in your left hand and the several bandages covering your body. “She’ll be alright Con, I promise.”

Steve re-entered the room with heavy steps, head hanging low and he looked at his wife. “Connie, a word, out in the hall”, he sighed.

She quickly wiped at her eyes and left the room, following her husband outside. He was alone with you now and felt incredibly out of place. You were the one to make situations less awkward and insufferable, you were the one to lighten the mood with some stupid joke or story about something back in the States. You, you, you – anything and everything was you, it was like his fucking world revolved around it- her. The poor man wasn’t able to deal with the near loss of you and his feelings, so he did what seemed best to him, pressing a quick kiss to your head and booking it, leaving you alone.

The simple touch had its desired effect, eyes fluttering open just as he walked over the threshold of your room, disappearing into the Columbian night. As you blinked a couple of times, vision somewhat blurry, all you could feel was pain, intense pain from your shoulder. Just as you tried to sit up a bit more the Murphys walked in, Connie quickly rushing over to your side and forcing you to lay back.

“Hey, y/n, hey, you’re in the hospital”, she explained slowly, gesturing at the several wires and monitors.

“Ja-Javier?”, you croaked out, throat completely dry and scratchy.

Steve poured you a glass of water while speaking: “He must’ve left. Listen, I know you’re probably exhausted and all but we need to have a chat.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the absolute bomb Steve was about to drop on you, those three little words changed everything. You – are – pregnant. Normally people would be nothing short of euphoric hearing such a confession, but to you – a woman with no partner and a job in one of the most dangerous places to be – it was a death penalty.

You had stayed in the hospital five more days, fellow agents coming to pay their respects, but you were just in a state of utter shock and frankly denial. You had argued with doctors and nurses, demanding they’d take your blood again and do it right. But no matter how much you protested and wanted it to not be true, you were in fact pregnant.

Five whole days of friends and colleagues supporting and loving you, even a call from your fucking parents at some point, but no Javier. Connie and Steve hadn’t pried for information, prioritizing your recovery for now, but you knew fully well your old friend had his suspicions. They hadn’t told anyone else, and as of yet it was just you, them two and the medical staff that was aware, already way too many people for your liking.

On the fifth day nobody visited, as per your request, you’d be moving in with Connie and Steve for the next couple of weeks, your concussion-induced vertigo and left arm requiring almost constant assistance, or as you saw it: babysitting. So, you’d told everyone to fuck off until it was time to go to hopefully get some time to yourself, time that you could spend in your own head. As you sat up on the hospital bed, half dressed, incapable of putting a shirt over your head, you broke down. It wasn’t necessarily the shirt that made you this upset it was just everything; the accident, the fact that you were pregnant and most of all him. He hadn’t even made an effort to visit you, to check up on you.

Or so you thought. You see, while you were out in that bed, life at the office just continued where it left off, Peña and Murphy still sitting at their desks and going out in the field. Only now they only ever talked about three things; new leads, that new bar downtown and you. Well to be completely honest, Steve didn’t really ever mention you but Javi.. he couldn’t shut up about you, bugging his poor co-worker on the daily, trying to get at least some information out of him. Steve had gotten so fed up one late night that he’d tossed the case files at the other man’s head, telling him to go to that damned hospital instead. After that he stopped asking and was left to brood and mull in his bed, kitchen, shower, basically anytime he was alone. Surely you wouldn’t want him there, considering what terms you were on, but would it be so bad for him to just swing by, talk to you for half an hour or so, see how you were doing with his own eyes? He deemed it best to leave you alone and not give you more of a headache. But by Saturday afternoon, the day you were supposed to be emitted, he couldn’t help himself. He got in his car and just drove there, hastily parking his car as he ran up to your room, stopping at the door as he heard your muffled weeping.

The soft knock interrupted your heartfelt moment, you saw his reflection in the windows, unable to turn your head around. “Can I come in?”, he asked with a small voice.

“Y-yeah”, you answered, trying to cover yourself with your good arm.

He wordlessly walked over to you, quickly gathering the shirt from the floor and stepping closer. “Guide me.” Javier tenderly helped you into your shirt, following your every instruction and checking if he was doing okay every time you winced. When you were dressed he sat next to you on the bed, holding the hairbrush you’d handed him just seconds before. “I-I’ve never done someone else’s hair, are you sure you want to look even more of a mess?”, he joked.

You quietly chuckled, fidgeting with the hair tie in your hand. “Can’t get much worse anyways, just be careful with the ends.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as he brushed through your untamed hair, profusely apologizing every time the brush would get tangled, making the both of you laugh a little. It was a small win, just a sweet and innocent moment with the most dangerous man around, at least to you. He struggled to comb it all back, clearly not used to performing even the easiest of hairstyles. Eventually your hair did end up in something akin to a ponytail, at least he tried. After he zipped up your bag for you and checked the room for anything left behind you tried to slip on your shoes, a pair of tennis shoes to be exact, ones you frequented due to the nature of your job. Chasing narco-men wasn’t exactly ideal when wearing heels, so yes, you lived in flats. He soon got on his knees in front of you, helping you in your shoes and tying the laces for you, not able to watch you struggle any longer. The two of you didn’t talk other than the occasional “does this hurt” and “what now”. He offered to drive you home, but you explained Steve would be picking you up in a bit, informing him that you’d be staying over at their place, but a floor away from his own door.

“I should probably go then – unless you need anything else”, he said, hands in his pockets.

You went to stand, losing your balance a bit and steadying yourself by holding on to the frame of your bed. “Actually, if you don’t mind, can you help me to the entrance, I’d rather wait there.”

With his arm wrapped around your waist, by means of support, totally nothing else, he helped you get downstairs, to the entrance. He’d insisted you stayed inside, telling you about the dangers of being alone. You’d rolled your eyes, reminding him you had worked here just as long as he had, making him jut his hip. It’s then that Steve pulled up out front, quickly walking over to the two of you.

“What the hell is he doing here?”, Steve asked you, eyeing his partner up and down.

“He was just visiting and now he is leaving, see you Monday, Murphy”, Javier scoffed as he patter the man on the back, walking off without another word.

As Murphy helped you in his car he quirked an eyebrow at your messy hair; “Peña do that to you?” You nodded. “What’s that all about?”

“Survivor’s guilt”, you chuckled.

Taglist: @peterhollandkait @pedritomando​ 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Love Poison

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You plan to take extreme measures to catch Loki’s eye. Unfortunately, things backfire terribly. Can something good come of the mess? Warnings: use of a love potion (putting this here because in case that bothers some people) but I think that’s it A/N: For @tom-hlover​. Thanks for requesting and hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

You glanced out the window of Tony’s lab. In the week since you’d been promoted to his personal assistant, you’d seen more of the Avengers than you had in your almost five years of working at the Tower. In fact, you’d seen all but the one you’d really been hoping to. Loki. You had a little crush on the god, you would admit, but you had no hope of getting to know him if he never stopped by the lab. You considered asking your boss about him, but decided that the embarrassment wasn’t worth the risk. So, instead, you kept on waiting.

Your lucky break came one day when Tony sent you to the kitchen to get him some coffee. A large part of you wanted to suggest sleep instead, since he’d pretty obviously been up since you’d left the Tower last night. But you were still too new to the job to be so bold. You were in the middle of pouring Tony’s drink when a certain raven haired god came rushing in, snickering to himself. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you.

“Who are you?” he asked sharply, as if he had been caught in the middle of something. Judging by the box of glowing vials he had with him, you supposed he might be. “How did you get in here?”

“Oh! I, uh, I work for Tony. I’m his new lab assistant,” you responded shyly, telling him your name.

“Ah, I see. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Loki of Asgard. That doesn’t happen to be Stark’s drink in your hands, does it?”

“Actually, yeah, it is. May I ask why?”

Loki peered over his shoulder before turning back to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. You were almost certain your heart would beat out of your chest if you stayed in this close proximity to him any longer, but he finally began to explain himself.

“I was hoping to slip a potion into it. I had been planning on just dumping it into the coffee pot, but it would much easier if you could help me sneak it into the cup. Do not worry, I will not let you get into trouble. I will gladly take full blame. And, before you ask, it is completely safe.”

You contemplated for a minute trying to choose between your new job and Loki. The choice was pretty obvious, though, as you always tended to think more with your heart than your head. Maybe this could even spark a friendship between you and the god.

“Ok,” you nodded. “What’s it going to do?”

“It will make him burst out into uncontrollable laughter,” Loki explained as he set a few vials on the island, looking for the right one. “A harmless prank, really, but all I can get away with these days.”

A few moments later he was saying goodbye and hurrying off to enact his next prank. So much for that friendship you were hoping would bloom. Except, he’d left a potion behind. Maybe you could return it to him, and at least get another conversation out of it. But then you looked at the label and got another plan entirely. It was a love potion.

Ten minutes later you were staring at the bottle of glowing purple-pink liquid. Tony had run out to yell at Loki, knowing immediately who had been responsible for his sudden laughter. There were blueprints to be working on, you knew, but you’d had an idea, and it was proving nearly impossible to get it out of your mind. If you could just see Loki again, find him again, you could give him a drink with the potion in it. Not a lot, just a drop. Just nudge him into having feelings for you. Then once he got to know you, maybe the potion would have worked its way out of his system and his feelings would be real.

Almost without knowing what you were doing, you were pouring some of the contents in a cup of water. You poured yourself a cup of water, too, suddenly feeling very anxious. Was this right? You hadn’t technically stolen it or anything. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the issue. This was crazy. It was manipulative. Everything about your relationship will have started out as a lie. Maybe you just needed another sip of water to calm down.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you realized you’d drunk out of the wrong cup. Your mind went into full panic mode before focusing solely on Loki.

You skipped through the halls of the Tower, looking for your otherworldly prince. He said your name in a question as he almost collided into you. Immediately he knew something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It would bug him until he could.

“Did Stark send you after me?” he questioned. “I do not suppose you would be willing to help me out a second time?”

“Tony didn’t send me,” you brazenly replied. “I’m here to ask you on a date, Loki.”

“And why,” he said in a sharp laugh of disbelief, “would you do that?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. Not only was that an outrageous thing to say because you hardly knew each other, it was unbelievable because he was, well, him. Plus, you seemed a lot more bold than you had earlier. He almost didn’t believe it was the same person. Maybe you had a twin running around. Or maybe it was drugs. But no. He’d seen the effect drugs had on Midgardians before, and this was different. Still, he could not figure it out.

“That is lovely, but-”

“He would love to!” Thor cut his brother off as he appeared from around the corner. “How about you get some coffee? You like coffee, right brother?”

“No.”

“It’s perfect considering how we met,” you giggled as Loki grimaced. “I know a place that has coffee and tea, if you like that better.”

Loki desperately wanted to decline, but it was the last thing he needed for his image. Besides, he was pretty sure Thor would drag him there even if he said no.

“Very well. I shall meet you in the lobby at seven.”

“See you later, Loki,” you giggled as you waved goodbye, leaving to go doodle his name in your notebook.

“Well, well, brother,” Thor said. “I had no idea you had finally realized what an eligible bachelor you are. Good for you, putting yourself out there.”

“I suppose you were not at the same conversation I was,” Loki said wryly. “You put me out there. I was about to say no.”

“Come now, it will be good for you. Why do you seem so dismayed?”

“It does not make sense that they like me. No, they said love, actually. For one, I hardly know them. For two, I am me, don’t forget. Harbinger of destruction in the Battle of New York. Something is not adding up.”

“Just enjoy this, brother. Someone has realized how wonderful you are and asked you out. It is just how things work on Midgard.”

“Perhaps,” Loki mused, wracking his brain. “But I must do some research. There may be magic involved.”

“You know what,” his brother sighed, “I am going to help you just to prove this is real.”

“If you must.”

The search proved fruitless, but Loki was determined to comb through more of his enchantment books later. Right now, however, he had to meet you. For a date. The whole thing still sounded absolutely absurd. Though, he would admit you did look rather adorable bundled in your coat, ready to go out in the cold night air. Being the gentleman that he was, he offered you his arm, which you excitedly took as you giggled. That was another thing, why were you suddenly so bubbly? It was a far cry from the shy, easily flustered person he’d met earlier. He added it to his mental list of possible symptoms of whatever was afflicting you.

About an hour later, the two of you were still seated in the small café you’d brought him to. Loki was, surprisingly, enjoying himself. He had to keep reminding himself that this was not real, that he shouldn’t get too attached, for he was sure he’d figure this out sooner or later.

“Really?” you laughed as he finished his story.

“Yes, the entire chair just gave out from under him,” he recalled, telling you of one of the many times he’d pranked Thor in their youth. “After all, he’d just said to stop gluing him to it. Everything else was fair game. The best part was father never could prove I was behind it.”

“I wish I was clever like that. Or could do magic.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of a Midgardian working seiðr before, but I suppose nothing is impossible. I fear I may not be the best teacher, though. I lack the patience a good teacher should possess.”

“You seem plenty patient to me. Loki, you’re...” you said, nervously casting your eyes down to the floor, “well, you’re amazing.”

He blushed at your words, but accepted them with a small thank you. You’d calmed down considerably throughout the course of the evening, now seemingly fully captivated in your conversation with Loki. And he even found himself thinking that he didn’t mind your company, a rare thing indeed. Maybe Thor was right after all. Maybe this was real. As much as he wanted to believe that, deep down, he still knew something was very, very wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki took you out again a week later. After a dinner out in the city, he had nervously brought you back to the Tower for a movie on his couch. It had been Thor’s idea, though he seemed to have been hinting at something else by suggesting Loki bring you back to his quarters. But, thankfully, you didn’t seem particularly interested in any of those things. Rather, you were content to just sit with Loki and let the movie play. You were curled into his side, cuddling him. It took someone actually wanting to be near to him to make him realize how touch starved he actually was. It alarmed him at first, to have you so close, but he relaxed as you began methodically braiding and unbraiding a few locks of his hair. A small smile played at his lips as he thought of the domestic simplicity of it.

“Hey, Loki,” you said. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I am too. And to think, it all started with a simple prank.”

Loki suddenly stood up from the couch, accidentally pushing you off him. He apologized as he rushed over to his bookcase. Remembering how you’d first met had made him think of something; he’d been searching for an enchantment, but he’d never considered it being the effect of a potion. Reading the page in the book, he realized you were exhibiting all the symptoms. He sighed and checked his potion box, hoping against hope that he would find nothing missing. Unfortunately, he did.

He’d packed up his things so quickly that he must have left one behind and, one way or another, you’d consumed it. And of course it had to be that one of all the options. It was more love poison than love potion, he thought to himself as he scoffed. He sat down and plopped onto the couch, burying his head in his hands.

“Loki?” you hesitantly asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my darling, I am so sorry. It is all my fault,” he apologized, taking your hands as confusion sparked behind your eyes. “It may take a little time, but I will fix this. For now, you should go home.”

“But, Loki,” you sniffled. “I don’t want to. What’s happening? Can I see you tomorrow?”

He hesitated. He really shouldn’t let this continue, for both your sakes. “I... Yes, I will you see you tomorrow. Do not worry about what is going on, I will take care of it.”

You sniffled some more, but acquiesced. After placing a kiss to his cheek, you set off towards your flat, leaving the unfinished movie playing in the background. Loki immediately started preparing the antidote. It would take nearly a week to fully brew, and he tried to figure out what to do with you in the meantime. He feared that if he kept seeing you, you would hate him when you came to. But, if he rejected you now, you might become violent and unpredictable. Better to keep you safe. And, if he was lucky for once in his life, maybe he could have a chance with you once you were in your right mind.

As soon as the antidote finished, Loki prepared to give it to you. He’d found the bottle of love potion hidden in Tony’s lab and concluded you couldn’t have used more than a few drops. He even dared hope for a second that you hadn’t used it, after all, but then he noticed the seal had been broken. The small dosage must have been the reason he didn’t recognize the side effects as belonging to it right away. The larger the dosage, the more intense the effects.

“Hi Loki,” you greeted as he opened the door for you.

“Hello, darling.”

“Is something wrong?” you asked, cupping his cheek. “You seem upset.”

“I am fine. May I interest you in a glass of water? Tea? Anything to drink, really.”

“Oh! I guess water sounds good. Thanks,” you smiled.

He handed you the cup and waited while you took a sip. The effects were almost instantaneous, filling him with both joy and sadness at the same time. You gazed around the room with a dazed look on your face. Loki helped you to a chair as you regained your senses.

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped. “Loki, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, darling? I am the one who left the potion lying around.”

“Yes, but,” you started, wondering how much you could get away with. You decided it was just best to come clean. “I should have returned it as soon as I saw it. Not... not try to give it to you. Serves me right that I accidentally took it myself.”

“You were trying to give it to me?” Loki inquired with furrowed brows. “What would you do a thing like that for?”

“Because,” you gulped, “I really do have a crush on you, Loki. I was desperate, I guess. But that’s no excuse, so yeah, I’m sorry. I should go now.”

“Wait,” he called after you before you could run off. You were rather charming, he thought. And he did believe that he got to know a bit of the real you through the potion. Besides, maybe Thor was right, and it was time he put himself out there. “I know we did not start under the best circumstances, but I would like to take you on a real date if you will allow it. Say, tonight?”

“Really?” you squeaked in disbelief. “I would love to, Loki.”

“Just do me one favor, darling. Stay away from potions, please.”

“Believe me,” you nervously laughed, “I plan on it.”

You scurried away to text your friends about the crazy turn of events. Loki smiled after you before destroying the rest of the love potion, happy that some good was able to come out of the whole mess. But there was one thing he knew for certain; he’d be swearing off potion making for quite some time.

[sincerelyella]

RAMifications Prologue - Breakaway

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella); Ella x OC

Song Inspiration: Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks and Ethan belongs to me

Summary: How Liam met Ella and their love story.

A/N: This entire idea came from Burnsy and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake x Alyssa Devereaux. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia. This doesn’t follow much of TRR books, there is still a social season but not all of the players are present. Throw canon out the window! If you have not read unBEARable by @burnsoslow​ (catch up here) I suggest you go and read that first. There are SPOILERS in this series!

Warnings: Except cursing? Not much.

Words: 1129

Ella Brooks was sick of school. 

At 25 years-old, she had already busted her ass and gotten her bachelor’s degree in history and political science.. Her parents, however, were less than thrilled about her choice in majors. She agreed to go back to school and was almost done with her bachelor’s degree in nursing at the University of California in Los Angeles, just needing a semester of an internship for graduation. Ella had already told all of her professors that she wasn’t doing an internship abroad before graduation. It was the sudden break up with her long time boyfriend that made her change her mind and want to get the hell out of California.

A week ago

As Ella walked to her car from campus - she had put in a study session at the library - Ella heard loud laughter echoing from the outdoor bar next to where she parked. That sounds an awful lot like … she narrowed her eyes just as she saw that it was her boyfriend Ethan. He was laughing with a blonde haired woman, his arm around her shoulders, face close to hers as they held onto their drinks.

Unable to contain her anger she stalked over to the oblivious pair and tapped Ethan on the shoulder. He turned and the smile he had on his face immediately fell, his eyes widened in shock.

“Uh … Ella, hey! Wh-what are you doing here?”

Ella grit her teeth and tried to compose herself. “Ethan. I was studying, as you know since you were supposed to meet me.”

“W-well, something came up after the meeting.”

Ella’s arms were folded in front of her, her brow arched. There was an awkward silence and the blonde couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hi! I’m Madeleine. Can we help you?” she said, with an oblivious smile on her face.

Ella looked at Madeleine, then back to Ethan. “Actually no, Madeleine. I think I’m done here.” Ella turned and walked towards her car.

Ethan scrambled to stand up, leaving Madeleine at the bar with a perplexed look on her face. “Ella! Wait!”

She kept walking, absolutely seething and determined to get to her car before Ethan caught up with her.

“Ella!” Ethan grabbed her arm and whirled her around. “I’m so sorry, that’s not what it looked like. W-we’re just … friends, me and Madeleine.”

“This is why you flaked out on the study session and had me sit in the library alone for hours? She was your ‘quick meeting at work?’”

“I DID have a meeting!”

“Your meeting consisted of sitting at a bar with your arm around her? Your face was right next to hers! Oh my God, Ethan! Do you think I’m fucking stupid?!”

“S-she had asked me out for a drink and -”

Ella couldn’t stand there and listen to his bullshit anymore. She wrenched her arm from his grasp and walked to her car. “We’re done Ethan,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m sick of all your excuses about all these different women being ‘just your friend’. I’m throwing out all your shit in my apartment if you don’t come get them tomorrow.” She got in her car, turned the ignition and sped off, leaving Ethan standing in the street.

**

Present-day

Ella dragged her carry on suitcase and personal items past TSA and customs in the Los Angeles International Airport. She stood in line for an hour just for them to wave her throug; she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her long dark hair in two braids, she sported a plain black baseball hat, a plain grey t-shirt, black leggings and Nike sneakers.

Once Ella made it to her terminal she saw people already lining up to board. She presented her boarding pass and went through to the walkway to find her seat. The flight finally took off after a couple stragglers hurried onto the plane and sat down. Ella’s noise-cancelling headphones were a game changer. Damn these were so worth the money. 

Ella thought about her life in Los Angeles and how much things have changed. That was two years of my life I’ll never get back. She knew Ethan was never devoted to her, yet she stayed with him out of … familiarity? Complacency?  

Time for a new beginning. Ella settled into her seat, waited for the snacks and drinks to be distributed before she fell asleep.

**

15 hours later

Ella walked through Cordonia International Airport and went into the customs line.

“Miss Ella Brooks?” the customs agent asked while looking at her passport and paperwork.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You’re here for a study abroad internship?

“Yes sir, I’m with the International Medical Aid program with UCLA. I’ll be a nurse intern in the Children’s Hospital at the capitol.”

The customs agent nodded. “Okay and how long will you be here for?”

“Six weeks.”

“Alright,” he stamped her passport and wrote down the dates on her paperwork. “Just know that if you plan on staying longer than that you’ll need to be employed in Cordonia. You either need to extend the dates or file for Cordonian citizenship. ”

Ella chewed on her bottom lip. Stay? “Right, thank you.”

The agent handed Ella back her documents and she was shuffled off into a van with her classmates from the study abroad program.

**

Five weeks later

In the last five weeks, Ella fell head over heels in love with the little country called Cordonia. The people were friendly, they loved to hear about where she came from and were in awe that she volunteered at a busy ER five days a week. Ella had contacted her university in Los Angeles and requested all her transcripts be sent to Cordonia University. She still had a couple more classes to finish plus her licensing exam to take; she couldn’t begin working as a nurse until those were complete. According to the U.S. embassy, she would need to find a job in Cordonia that was at least two days a week. After six months of steady work, she could file for Cordonian citizenship.

Ella walked outside the Emergency Room of the Children’s Hospital on her lunch break. She loved walking around the capitol exploring the architecture and little shops in the area. There was even a large library next to a fountain of a naked ... person that she sat in for hours. The historical books on Queen Kendra Rys were so interesting, she found herself wondering what it was like to be royalty. The small country was one of the few that was still governed by a monarchy and her political science degree made her even more excited to read the stories.

Ella’s eyes stopped at a shop that sold cronuts and quirked her brow. What exactly is a cronut? She saw two men and a woman sitting inside at a corner table that had what looked like a dozen or more cronuts in front of them. One man had on a black t-shirt with dark jeans and scowl on his face; he was sitting next to a beautiful woman with dark hair and wore a Chicago Bears jersey with jeans. Nice, someone here that knows American football. The other man had on a blue shirt with squids all over it and dark jeans as well. The man with the squid shirt was chattering away with the woman, both seemingly oblivious to the other man’s glowering. Are they going to eat all of that? She shrugged and walked in to try one. Ten minutes later she had eaten two cronuts and had a to-go cup of coffee in her hands.

Time to head back. Ella crossed the street and started towards the hospital. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a small flower truck parked on the curb. A long line had formed right outside the window and whoever was working there looked frantic. She caught a sign on the window that said Help Wanted. Ella arched her brow and stood there thinking for a moment. Oh, why not? She walked over to the window.

“Excuse me! Are you looking to hire someone?”

[hotchscotchh]

The Milk Cooler

Hey y’all! I’m not sure how much I like this one, I also have absolutely no idea where the idea for it came from lmao

Summary: Spencer meets a strange man from the other side of the milk cooler

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Warnings: FLUFF

Word count: 1.5k

Read on AO3

Spencer Reid absolutely, positively, hated his job. It wasn’t that he wanted to work here, he just needed the money and nowhere else was hiring. Now, he wasn’t worried about paying for his classes at Georgetown, he was worried about being able to keep him mom in the Bennington Sanitarium in Las Vegas. Spencer often had a hard time believing he allowed himself to move so far away from his mother and his hometown. Though he didn’t have many good memories of the town, he often found himself missing the warm weather and going into the city to outsmart anyone he could at the casinos. 

Anyway, Spencer had found himself working at a local grocery store that was only a few blocks away from his current apartment. The work was seemingly meaningless busywork. But, if he was making money, he was making money. And that’s what mattered, right? Spencer had just turned 20 last week. He finished his second doctorate, which was in chemistry, the month before. He already had one in math and was about to begin a third in engineering. He also had a few bachelor’s degrees under his belt and was now working on one in psychology. He had big dreams of working the FBI’s renowned Behavior Analysis Unit. His mother was always good at reading people and it was a skill he had gratefully picked up. 

Spencer’s favorite task at the grocery store had always been and will always be restocking the milk cooler. When he was doing that, he didn’t have to face any other people. Spencer had tried being a cashier for a while, but he was just too socially awkward to be able to interact with that amount of people on a daily basis. So, his manager decided he would be better off stocking shelves. This made Spencer’s life a little easier and a lot less stressful. The work was easy, mindless, he could let his mind wander and not be seen as crazy for just thinking and not responding to things around him. He had to talk to a lot less people this way. Sure, the odd person would ask him for help finding something sometimes, and of course he would help them. He didn’t mind little interactions like that. 

Spencer’s world was spun on its axis one day while he was stocking the milk cooler. He never had to interact with people while he was there. But one day, he noticed there was an entire row of half-gallon bottles of whole milk empty. He silently thanked the workers from the shift before, as it gave him an excuse to be in the cooler for longer than normal. It took him a few minutes to locate the half-gallons, but when he did, he set right to work. As soon as he had set the first carton of milk in the slot, the cooler door opened, and a hand reached in to take it out. Spencer didn’t notice this and jumped when the next carton slid all the way to the front of the slot.

 “Well, hello in there,” a deep voice said from the other side. 

“Uh, h-hi,” Spencer stuttered out, shocked that the strange man had noticed he was in there. 

“Havin’ fun back there?”

Spencer gave a breathy laugh. The voice was attractive, and he was unusually flustered by it. “Sure,” he replied, “If you consider picking up on your coworker’s slack fun.”

It was the other man’s turn to laugh. Spencer shifted his position, wondering if he could get a good look at the mysterious man who was talking to him through a milk cooler. “Tryna get a look at me, Pretty Boy? I can see you back there.”

Spencer jumped. “Um, n-no, just uh… trying to get back to work,” he managed to sputter out. He reached up to place another carton of milk in the slot. The man on the other side chuckled and reached out to grab Spencer’s hand softly. “I’ll see you around, Pretty Boy.”

The milk door closed. Spencer tried to shake off the interaction and get back to work, but he ended up being flustered and distracted for the rest of his day.

----

Derek Morgan also happened to be a student at Georgetown. He didn’t have three PhD’s and two BA’s though. He was just working on a bachelor’s in psychology. So, when he went to get a half-gallon of whole milk from the grocery store, he was surprised to find the cute little quiet boy that sat in the back of his psych class stocking the cooler. Derek kind of had a thing for the boy, not that he would admit it. He’d never even spoken to the kid (he didn’t even know his name!), and before today, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t. But after that encounter, how could he not? The kid had been so flustered, just by the little not-even-a-conversation conversation they had. Derek wanted to see him blush in full light, and not half hidden by the shelves in the cooler. He decided that night that he would not go another day without properly talking to this kid.

----

The next morning, Derek got to class early, hoping the boy would already be there and he could talk to him for a minute or two. He wasn’t surprised to see that Spencer was the only one in the room, even before the professor. He slid into the seat next to him. Spencer was lost in a book and didn’t hear the door opening or the man sliding into the seat beside him.

“Good morning, Pretty Boy,”

 Derek said quietly, smirking. Spencer jumped, again, and looked over at Derek, finally realizing that there was someone else in the room. “I- what? Pretty Boy?”

“You seemed to like it when I called you that from the other side of the milk cooler last night.”

Spencer’s eyes widened and he blushed a furious shade of red. “That was you? Wait you, someone who looks like, well, that, thinks I am pretty?”

Derek chuckled. “Sure thing, Pretty Boy. Do you have a pretty name to go with your pretty face?”

“I’m not pretty,” Spencer insisted. “But my name is Spencer.”

“Oh, you definitely are pretty. It’s almost a crime that anyone would let you think otherwise. My name’s Derek. Any chance you would want to get coffee with me after class?”

“I’d love to Derek, but I have plans to go sit in on Alex Blake’s linguistics lecture. Unless you want to come with me, that is.” Spencer couldn’t believe how easily the words were flowing from his mouth. He had never been able to speak to someone like this before. There was something about the way Derek looked at him that put him at ease.

“That sounds wonderful, Spencer.” Spencer blushed redder, if that was even possible, and ducked his head. Their professor starting his lecture ended their conversation. 

----

An hour and a half later, Spencer found himself sitting in a coffee shop with two caramel lattes and Derek Morgan in front of him. He still couldn’t believe that someone that looks like Derek Morgan would be attracted to someone that looks like him.

 Derek pulled him out of his thoughts by saying, “so, what are you studying at Georgetown?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Spencer replied with a small giggle. “I have two PhD’s, one in mathematics and one in chemistry, I’m starting one in engineering next week. I also have a couple odd BA’s, and obviously I’m working on my psych one right now.”

 “What are you, some kind of genius?”

Their conversation continued like this until their lattes were gone, and then some. Derek asked Spencer if he could walk him home. Spencer blushed and nodded. When they made it out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his.

“This okay, Pretty Boy?” Spencer nodded again and squeezed Derek’s hand. 

They walked the few blocks back to Spencer’s apartment building in silence, enjoying the company and the beautiful day, only stopping when they reached Spencer’s door. 

“I’d love to do this again sometime, Derek,” Spencer said, surprising himself. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote his phone number on Derek’s arm. 

When he was done writing, he looked back up at Derek and gave a big grin, proud of himself. Derek reached his hand up to Spencer’s face and cradled one cheek. 

Spencer leaned into the touch. Derek came a step closer. “Can I kiss you?” Instead of giving an answer, Spencer leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, giving him a soft, chaste kiss. “No more until you call me,” Spencer said after he pulled away, slipping into his apartment and leaving a shocked Derek Morgan outside. 

Taglist: @peachpitfics @wheelsup @endingsbeginnings​ @ssa-kassidyhughes​ @criminalmindsfan13​ 

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Or on FF

Tagging:   @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda

Chapter 6: Muscle Memory

Emma woke with a headache and a slew of questions from Ruby.

Why is there a painting in our room?

Who the hell is Walsh?

Just what are you doing all day when you disappear?

Emma just grumbled about rich stalkers and stumbled to the bathroom for a warm shower. As she stood under the hot water, she hoped the steam would blow it all away and make the annoyances of dealing with Walsh disappear.

Unfortunately, the painting staring back at her as she opened the bathroom door brought her back to the immediate reality that this man she barely knew, gave her a painting that he just bought for more money than she made in months because he thought she was beautiful.

His attention made her uncomfortable, it unsettled her. She wasn’t sure why he continued to pursue her, but she was going to make sure he understood that his gift was not appropriate.

Stepping out of her room, she ran into August who was limping along the hallway. “Need assistance?”

“Emma, you are a welcome sight.” He grinned and she stepped up beside him to offer her shoulder to lean on. “I’m on my way to the medical bay.”

She gave him a knowing glance and pursed her lips together. “Hmm, this seems to be happening often.”

“Hey, I’m an injured man.” He replied incredulously.

“With a very pretty and attentive nurse.”

“Is she pretty?” He said with a smirk, “I never noticed.”

“Mmhm, you know if you lie, it makes your nose grow.”

“That’s a child’s fairytale, you don’t scare me.” He teased, reaching up to tap his nose. “See, no change.”

They reached the medical wing and August’s face brightened when Tink walked up to them. “There’s my favorite patient.”

“Good morning, Ms. Bell, my friend Emma made sure I got here safely.”

“Hi Emma. Nice to see you again. Your friend is in good hands, I’ll make sure he gets back to his room safely, in case you have plans.”

“Oh yes, August definitely thinks that you take great care of him, I leave you in his charge.” She winked at August as she left the room.

She turned the corner and ran directly into a man in uniform. “Emma, what a pleasant surprise.” He looked in the direction she had come from, concern slipping onto his face. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, just dropping my friend August off for his daily flirting session.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, I think my friend has a crush on one of your nurses.”

“I suppose you know what the ship’s name stands for right? TLC, tender loving care. Seems only fair that he be taken care of properly.”

She laughed lightly. “Well, I think he’s a satisfied customer then.”

“Happy to hear that my crew is meeting expectation.” His gaze scanned her face, causing her body to heat up suddenly. “Well, I must continue on my duties. Captain’s job is never done.”

“Of course, you do have an important job here.” Disappointed to see him leaving, she started to walk away when she felt his hand on her elbow.

“I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me on the sky bridge this evening. I hear tonight will offer a beautifully clear night for star gazing, a favorite activity of mine while at sea.”

“Star gazing with the Captain, I don’t remember seeing that listed as an option on the excursion board.” She teased. “I’d be honored.” His mouth turned upward slightly, her heart pounding in her chest when his tongue darted out across his bottom lip.

“I’ll see you there, Miss Swan.”

Emma was in a haze the rest of the day, flitting about from activity to activity with anticipation. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to get more alone time with Killian. Stargazing was lovely, but she wanted nothing more than to gaze into the galaxy held within his bright blue orbs.

Emma practically skipped to the dining room to meet her friends for dinner that evening, but as she rounded the corner, her eyes caught sight of the one man she wanted to avoid. Walsh.

He looked up and she knew he had noticed her approaching him, there was no avoiding this. She marched up to him and he immediately stopped her before she could speak.

“Emma, I do hope you liked my gift.”

“Actually, I was coming over here to tell you that I think it’s inappropriate to send me something that cost so much, considering we don’t even know each other.”

“Emma, it was not my intent to offend you. You liked the painting, and I wanted to get it for you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“But I wish to get to know you better. Can’t you allow me that much?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, you knew I was with someone the night we first met.”

He looked around. “I haven’t seen him with you since. Seems if a man had such a beautiful woman on his arm, he would be foolish to leave her alone so often.”

“That is clearly none of your business.”

“Please, Emma, surely my gift has granted me some favor, perhaps you could join me for dinner.”

“I have plans.” She stated simply and turned to walk away. “I’ll make sure you get your painting back.” Without turning around, she made her way to her table.

“There she is.” David announced as she sat down. “We were wondering where you have been all day.”

“I helped gimpy down to the medical wing, took in some trivia, a couple other activities, and then I needed to take care of something.” She looked over at Ruby and Will who both knew about the painting.

“Bloody shame, you could sell that thing.” Will huffed.

“Sell what?”

“Emma’s has an admirer who gifted her a very expensive painting last night.”

“Oh, are you finally warming up to the idea of this cruise?” Her brother mused.

“Absolutely not, and I’m returning the painting, the guy creeps me out.”

“I apologize, should I leave?” Graham looked apprehensively at the table as he approached them at the end of Emma’s sentence.

“Sorry, I was talking about this rich guy that won’t leave me alone.”

Graham wiped his brow and took a seat beside Ruby. “Do you need me to have him arrested.” He grinned.

“I don’t think you have jurisdiction out here on the water, but that’s not necessary. He’s harmless, just determined.” She groaned.

“Well, if he doesn’t back off, the Captain of the ship can take care of issues like that, he has maritime jurisdiction.”

Emma’s head shot up at the mention of the Captain. “Seriously guys, I took care of it. I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need to run to the Captain just because some guy acts like a jerk.”

She would prefer to use the Captain for more erotic activities.

The subject was interrupted when dinner was served, and Emma welcomed the change of discussion to keep her mind from wandering into a place it didn’t belong before she met with Killian tonight.

“So, Emma, a bunch of us are going to the dance club tonight, want to join us?” Graham looked over at her and Emma smiled politely.

“What time are you guys heading over? I planned to go to the gym for a bit, but I can meet you guys there.”

“Why the bloody hell are you stepping foot in a gym while you’re on vacation?” Will argued. “You’re on a cruise ship, who works out on a bloody cruise ship?”

“A lot of people, William. It’s kind of nice, the view is amazing.”

“Suit yourself, I think you’re quite mad.”

Emma had no plans of meeting the group this evening. All through dinner the only thing on her mind was spending time alone with Captain Jones. While she found that she enjoyed his company, it was the butterflies amassing in her stomach that surprised her. She was both nervous and excited to get to spend more time talking to him. As much as she detested the premise of coming on a ship to hook up with eligible bachelors, she couldn’t deny her attraction to the devilishly handsome Captain. Nor did she want to. The anticipation of his body in close proximity to hers was enough to have her squirming under the table.

“Emma are you alright?” Emma jumped, banging her knee under the table.

“Sorry what?” She glanced up to see everyone staring at her.

“I asked what you were thinking of wearing tonight.” Ruby sat staring at her curiously while Emma stammered about needing to go through her closet to see what she had.

~*~

Killian was pacing on the bridge thinking about his upcoming evening with Emma Swan. He hadn’t been this delighted about being alone with a woman in years. Well, perhaps delighted but also anxious and positively full of nerves.

“Captain, I looked up the woman you wanted me to find, but there is no one on the ship by the name of Emma Swan.”

Killian stopped pacing. “Are you quite sure?”

“I had them check twice just in case. Anything else you need from me, Captain?”

“No, thank you for checking sir.” Killian dismissed the man and frowned. How did a woman he had physically spoken to, not exist on the ship?

He pulled the pocket watch from the chain on his hip, time seeming to slow to a stop the closer it got to meeting with Emma.

“Somewhere to be, Captain?” He looked up to see his First Mate approaching him. He nodded. “Captain, we have things handled here.”

“Thank you, Smee. Let me know if anything is needed.”

He excused himself from the bridge and returned to his quarters. He tried to calm his nerves as he stood on his balcony, watching the sun falling toward the choppy waters at the horizon. When the ball of fire finally dipped into the surface of its lover, he left his room to wait for Emma on the top deck.

As he approached, he realized he was not alone on the sky deck.

“Emma?”

She turned, her golden hair glowing in the moonlight.

“Hey, I uh, was hiding out so I thought I’d come up here a bit early.”

“And what, pray tell, would you be hiding from?

“Doesn’t matter.” She approached him, her eyes glimmering as she met his gaze. “I believe I was promised star gazing.”

“Aye.” He took her hand and guided her to the corner of the deck, sitting down in the large lounger and patting the spot next to him. She stood thinking for a moment before joining him on the chair, melting into his side.

“So, Captain, what are we looking for?”

He took her hand and pointed it toward the sky, “Right there, you see that bright star?” She nodded. “That’s Deneb, the star sits at the tail of the constellation, Cygnus.” He turned toward her, meeting her eyes. “That’s the Swan. Mythology says that the Cygnus is actually Zeus in disguise on his way to a tawdry tryst.” He laughed, then traced her hand across the sky. “That star, that’s Albireo, it sits at the Swan’s head and if you are lucky enough to view her from a microscope, you would be blessed with the sight of not one, but two stars huddled together.”

“Where did you learn all of this?”

“My mother used to take Liam and I to our rooftop at night, she would tell us tales of the constellation and the Gods. After she passed, it was the one thing I took solace in, in a way, I suppose it allowed me to continue to communicate with her in some way.”

“That’s beautiful. When did you lose your mother?”

“Oh, I was but a young lad of four.”

“I’m so sorry, are you close with your father.”

“No, it was just Liam and I, my father left shortly after my mother died.”

“So, you were all alone?”

“Liam took good care of me. He did the best he could being a young man himself. But he raised me right, taught me to sail, he joined the Navy after I came of age and of course I followed him. Everything I have, all of this, I owe to him.” She was lost in thought beside him. “And what of your parents, are you close?” She laughed but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh which caught him off guard. “Just who are you, Swan.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

“It’s not a pleasant story.” She said as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“You and I have that in common it seems.” He said sadly.

She sighed and relaxed beside him. “I never knew my parents, they left me, wrapped in a blanket on the steps of a police station when I was just a few months old. No note, just dropped me off like I was a donation at Goodwill or something.”

He swallowed hard; it was not a pleasant tale to be sure.

“Anyway, the Nolan’s adopted me, gave me a last name. But they passed when I turned 16, car accident. But my brother, David, he raised me, he’s a good man and he tried to do the best he could with an unruly teenager.”

“Is that why I couldn’t find you in the ship’s register?”

“You were looking me up?” She mused.

“I was merely curious.”

She narrowed her eyes before continuing, “I used the name Swan when I ran away from home.”

“Well, aren’t you a surprise? Your brother must have been distraught.”

“He was, like many sad stories, I met a guy, who I thought meant something to me. I mean, I wanted him to mean something so of course, he disappointed me. And it sucked and it changed my life.” She turned toward him, rolling slightly in the chair to face him. “You ever want something to work out so bad that your whole world falls out from under you when you lose it?”

He nodded, “Aye.” A lump forming in his throat.

“That’s what happened to me when Neal left. Things got hard and he ran, and I thought my world was over. But…” She stopped talking, looking back up at the sky.

“I was married.” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“I was married for two years.” He said softly.

“But you’re not married now?”

He shook his head sadly. “She died three years ago. Aneurysm. One day she was here, and then…just gone.” He snapped his fingers.

“Oh God, that must have been terrible.”

“One of the worst days of my life.” He felt her fingers trace the flesh at his arm and he turned toward her, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Life isn’t fair.” She said sadly. “Is it?”

She was staring at him, sadness sitting behind the green in her eyes. The wind was blowing across the bow, sending her hair in waves across her forehead. He reached out and brushed the strands from her face.

“Do you want to kiss me?” She whispered, reaching out to grab his hand before he pulled it away from her face.

“Does the lady wish for me to kiss her?” He asked, his heart speeding up in his chest.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you kissed me on the bridge.”

“I was afraid I had overstepped.” She sat up, her eyes meeting his.

“I hadn’t been kissed in seven years.” She said softly and all he could think of was what a damn shame that was. “Why should everyone else on board this ship get to have fun except for us?”

“Is that what we’re doing? Having fun, Emma?” He paused before continuing. “I do wish to kiss you, again. I just…”

She frowned, “I understand if…” He pressed his hand to her lips, silencing her.

“It’s been three years, Emma. I’m rusty.” The corner of his lips turned up, “But I think I’d like to figure it out.” Her lips puckered, kissing the pad of his finger that was resting on her lip and he felt shivers race down his spine. His thumb pressed against her jaw line, sliding his hand to her neck, and bending forward to capture her lips with his. Her fingers slid into his hair, eliciting a light moan from his throat.

The kiss was intoxicating, she tasted of chocolate and honey and the moment her tongue slipped from her mouth, he allowed her entrance, their tongues tangling in a heat of desire, his hands exploring the curves of her torso. When his fingertips touched skin at her waist, she moaned wantonly into his mouth and he dropped his head against her neck.

“There may be others on deck.” He breathed against her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

She pulled back, staring at him. “Perhaps the Captain can give me a tour of a more private location?” She said softly and he chuckled.

“I think that can be arranged.”

~*~

Emma couldn’t believe what she had said, did she really just ask him to take her somewhere private? Did she intend to sleep with him, a man she had only met a few days ago? Emma was not a reckless person, having Henry at such a young age had taught her to be responsible, never stepping outside of the lines she had set for herself.

And now she was stumbling down the hallways of a cruise ship, her mouth pressed against the Captain of the ship, her body on fire, burning to have him touch her, take her, devour her. She needed this, needed him. She never allowed herself a moment to have something she wanted, everything she ever did was for Henry. With her back pressed up against the door, his hand in her hair, his tongue hot against her ear, she decided that she could have one moment to take something she wanted.

The door pushed open and she fell backwards into the room, his hand steadying her at her back. “Woah, sorry, I think I’m a bit anxious.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.” She looked around the room. “Holy shit, is this your room.”

He chuckled. “It’s a bit much, I know.”

She wandered through the room, finding a full living room, doors heading off in both directions. “How many rooms do you have?”

He held up his hand, counting on his fingers, “Living room, dining, bedroom, guestroom, and two bathrooms. It’s a bit obscene.” He laughed before stopping to lean against the wall of the door frame, his eyes dark and wanting. She walked slowly toward him. “Shit.” He swore and she stopped in her tracks. “I apologize, Lass, I am out of practice. I’m afraid I don’t have any protection with me, I had no intention of…”

She stopped in front of him, her lip turning upward. “Well, lucky for you, my best friend was determined, even under my direct protest, to ensure that I was prepared.” She opened her purse, displaying a full line of condoms. “Unless you’re not interested…”

He advanced on her in one move, pulling her against his body, the bulge pressing against her hip all the answer she needed. The nervous energy and concern she had before they got to the room were gone, replaced instead with curiosity and desire. Emma hoped that the few memories she had of sex would soon replace her inexperience from lack of practice. They stumbled in the dark, tripping over furniture, and Emma could barely hide her embarrassment when her bra clasp got stuck in the threads of her shirt. Standing in the darkened room, one arm free from her strap and the other encumbered in her sleeve. Despite her attempts at trying to look sexy she was the picture of inexperience.

“Perhaps I should rescue you.” He chuckled against her neck, reaching down to assist her, his teeth raking against her flesh causing goosebumps to appear along the length of her arms. “Relax love.” He whispered.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly experienced in hooking up with men.”

She felt his smile along her jaw, “I haven’t done this for 7 years, but I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed since then.” His fingertips slid from her neck down to her breast. “Perhaps it’s all muscle memory.” His voice was thick in her ear as his thumb rubbed against her nipple, eliciting a groan from her throat. His light chuckle at her response combined with his hot breath in her ear had her dripping with want.

She had only had sex with one other man before. Neal. He was not a talkative lover nor a patient one and while she found sex pleasant, she considered it something she could live without. Emma knew her own body and how to scratch the itch when the feelings arose. Men were never a necessity.

However, as Killian’s hand slid between her thighs, lightly teasing her before he reached up to push her shorts down, she felt her knees give way in anticipation of what was to come. He pushed her back toward the bed, the back of her knees bumping the mattress.

She sat back on the bed, his eyes staring down at her as he stood in front of her. With shaky hands she grabbed his belt, pulling the leather through the loops and sliding it to the floor beside her. Her heart was pounding as she fumbled with the buttons, pushing the pants from his hips to his ankles. He pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him in his boxers in front of her.  His thumb hooked under her chin, pulling her eyes up to meet his. “You really are quite beautiful, Emma.”

She gulped, sliding her hands up the bed to pull her body upwards. She felt the bed dip as his knees pressed into the mattress. He pulled her foot up his body, massaging her calf with his hand before bending to press his lips where his hands had been.  His fingers continued their way toward the apex of her thigh, his mouth not far behind, peppering hot kisses to each part of her flesh. Emma’s entire body felt like it was on fire as he slowly inched toward her most aching desire.

Their eyes connected before he dipped between her thighs, her entire body tensing when his tongue slid between her folds. She could barely stop herself from reaching out and gripping his hair in her hand, the other tightening in the folds of the sheet as her head fell backwards on the pillow, her moan echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

If this was what he was like without practice, Emma dared to think what he would be like after a few more tries. Squeezing her eyes shut she pushed away thoughts of continued activities with the man currently pumping his fingers inside of her. This was a fleeting moment, a one-time thing she deserved to experience, however when his teeth raked over her bundle of nerves, his thumb following with pressure, his fingers sliding in and out of her as she screamed out his name, she thought that maybe she really did owe it to herself to make this a two- or three-time thing before she got off the ship.

~*~

Killian was sure that the sound she made as her body tensed and fell apart under his hands was something he could play over and over again and never tire of hearing. Though he hadn’t pleasured a woman since Milah, watching Emma fall over the edge was like cracking a safe, it was intoxicating and worthy of the treasure it provided.

He slid slowly up her body, his teeth nipping at her soft flesh, sucking against her supple skin in ways that he knew would leave a temporary bruise in the morning. He knew he shouldn’t take pleasure in knowing he was marking her body, but it excited him all the same. He was eager to slide into her, to feel her beneath his body, writhing, moaning, all for him. His body was on fire and only she could put out the flames. When their mouths met, she hitched her leg around his hip, and he swallowed her moans, his erection twitching against her mound.

He moved away from her and she whined. “One moment, love, we aren’t going to get far without one of these.” He lunged for the condom on the bed, tearing the corner open with his teeth and reaching between them to sheath himself.

She bit her lip, watching him, the anticipation of what was about to transpire creeping into his brain. She blinked slowly; her hair splayed out on his pillow. He pressed his lips lightly to hers, “Are you…”

“I want you.” She whispered, the moonlight framing her face. His heart was racing as he pressed against her legs, she opened further to him as he positioned himself at her slick opening, slipping slowly inside of her. “Oh God.” Her legs squeezing him, pulling him toward her as he pushed forward, fully seating inside of her.

“Christ.” He grunted, before their lips met hungrily, his tongue slipping into her mouth before he began to thrust into her. Her nails pierced the flesh at his back, bucking her hips into his, sending his body into a frenzy. As if a switch was thrown, their motions became frantic, desperate, and messy, the sounds of moaning, heavy panting, and strangled screams invading the normally serene ocean sounds around them.

Just when Killian was sure he wouldn’t last any longer she shoved his shoulder, pushing he over onto the bed and sinking down on top of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would last like this. Her blonde hair cascaded down her naked form, the moonlight glowing on her milky white breasts, her chin tilted toward the ceiling with her mouth open, soft moans falling from her lips.

“Emma, look at me, darling.” He reached out, taking her hand, and bringing it between them, intertwining their fingers against her clit. Their eyes made contact and she screamed out, squeezing his cock in her warm slick until he could hold back no longer, spilling into the condom as he bucked into her body. When her hips finally stilled against his, he reached up, his hand trailing her spine, pulling her down to him and twisting her to her side, his lips pecking softly at her jaw.

“I hope that was at least as good as you remembered sex to be.” He smirked.

“Oh God no.” She exclaimed before laughing and he frowned. “I mean, I’ve never experienced anything like that.” She added.

“My apologizes, for your past lover then.”

Her head fell back on the pillow as she broke into a fit of giggles that was almost music to his ears. “I don’t know what I find more attractive, the sounds you were making a minute ago or the ones you are making now.” He said lazily and she pulled back to stare at him before she started fumbling around for her clothes.

“You are welcome to stay, if you would like.” She turned to look at him.

“I would, but Ruby would ask a million questions if I didn’t come back to the room tonight. She’s already going to wonder why I didn’t come to the dance.”

He sat up, kissing her bare shoulder as she tried to gather her clothes to dress. “Emma.” He said softly against her skin. “I want you to know that I do not normally behave this way.”

She laughed again, “You mean have sex with your passengers?”

“Well that yes, but…”

She turned, “Killian, I wouldn’t be here if I thought that of you. You don’t have to explain. I find you attractive, I enjoyed the evening, we are two consenting adults.”

“I’d very much like to see you again.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we are stuck out here on the ocean for another week then. I can’t see how we wouldn’t see each other.”

He narrowed his eyes, “That is hardly what I meant.”

She leaned forward, nudging her nose into his neck. “I’m just teasing you.” She nipped at his ear. “I want to see you again too.” His arm went around her waist and he pulled her backward onto the bed. Their mouths connecting hungrily.

“It’s still early, Swan. I don’t have to check in on the bridge for another hour.” She giggled into his mouth, “It would be a shame to waste all those condoms.” When he felt her hand wrap around his cock, he thought perhaps he could be a little late to the bridge.