#carrie needs one of those dog vests that say ‘NERVOUS’ on it

[creature-of-pizza]

“YTEIXNA tog s’tI”

[the-bau-quinjet]

hiii! i don’t know if you have done this but can you do a hotch x reader where they get kidnapped by tobias instead of reid? xx

4 Months

Warning: Criminal Minds level violence, drugs, torture, rabid dogs

Word Count: 3562

a/n: I decided to switch up some of the specifics, just to make it a bit more fun to read. I hope you like it :) Also, we're pretending Rossi was there bc he is really the father of the group and it fit better than having Gideon 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

"JJ, we have to split up." You barely looked back at her, missing the nervous expression on her face as you ran toward the cornfield. "I'll take the field, you take the barn."

You slowed to a brisk walk as you neared the cornfield, raising your gun in front of you. You couldn't help but think about how pissed Hotch would be if he knew what you were doing.

You shook off the thought, knowing he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

Spotting movement, you moved farther into the corn, trying to spot any signs indicating which way Tobias went. A bent corn husk was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

-

"He's not a witness. He's the unsub." Hotch's eyes went wide as he realized you and JJ were there without backup. "Call JJ, now." He instructed Morgan, taking out his own phone to call you.

Hotch's eyes met Morgan's as both calls went unanswered. No words were exchanged as everyone ran out to the SUVS, putting on bulletproof vests as they went.

Hotch was nervously tapping the steering wheel the entire drive to Hankel's house. He couldn't stop replaying your last conversation.

"Y/N, you and JJ go talk to Hankel. Find out if he saw anything." Despite his stern expression, you could tell his eyes were smiling at you.

"Sure thing." You nodded, mouthing 'I love you' before turning to JJ.

That's it. He didn't even have the chance to mouth it back. JJ would've seen, and even though the team has theories about your relationship, you haven't confirmed anything yet.

He pulled into the driveway, running up to the house, gun out before anyone could stop him.

Prentiss followed Hotch, Morgan and Reid took the left, Rossi and a local cop took the right.

They tore through the house, clearing it with fierce determination, but came up empty.

"It's clear." Rossi called, joining Hotch and Prentiss in the living room. "Where are Morgan and Reid?"

Hotch spared a glance out the window, discovering the barn likely being cleared by the missing agents.

Everyone ran out of the house, arriving outside the barn just as Morgan and Reid lead a distressed JJ outside.

"What happened?" Hotch questioned, glancing over JJ's shoulder into the barn. Clearly you weren't there, but he needed to hope.

"We split up. Y/N went into the cornfield... I had- I had to shoot them." Her voice was detached, eyes glazed over.

"The dogs." Morgan clarified, leading JJ to a paramedic.

"Dammit. The house is clear. No sign of Y/N or Hankel." Hotch ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The worry was nearly overpowering, but it wouldn't help find you.

The sheriff approached, removing his hat. "A deputy two towns over gave directions to a man matching Hankel's description. He's headed for a hunting lodge."

Morgan nodded to Prentiss. "We'll check it out."

-

Your head was pounding. A vile scent reached your nose, causing your eyes to flicker open. You flinched at the closeness of the man in front of you.

"Tobias..." The name slipped out in a whisper.

"They're not here. It's just me now." He stated, calmer than you would've expected.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to portray a fake sense of calm.

"I'm Rafael." He pulled out a revolver, adding a single bullet to the six chambers.

"No. You don't have to do this." Your heart ached, fear gripping your body as he aimed the gun at you.

"It is my duty to enact God's will." He said, right before pulling the trigger.

-

Hotch pulled back into the driveway, leading Garcia into the house.

"His computer setup is in there. If there's even a hint of where they might've gone, I need you to find it." Hotch gestured to the back room.

Penelope nodded. Carrying her own computer bags, she followed Derek into the depths of the house.

"What've we got?" Hotch questioned those remaining around the table.

"He knew he could throw us off, pretend to be looking for a hunting lodge." Emily spoke quickly.

"We've got piles of information, journals, notebooks. We're still sifting through it all." JJ added, shirt still bloody from yesterday.

Just then, Reid rushed in from another room. "The walls in the bedroom, they are covered in the latin phrase 'honora patrem tuum', honor thy father."

"Garcia, look for anything you can find about his father." Hotch gave out orders, but his focus was elsewhere. What was happening to you?

"Over here!" Morgan called from outside.

The team ran around the house to see Morgan opening a cellar door. Nodding slightly, Hotch and Morgan made there way inside.

"Tobias Hankel, FBI." Morgan shouted, receiving no answer.

They quickly found the dead body of none other than Hankel's father. Even the new information did little to calm the worry brewing inside of Hotch.

-

"Confess your sins." He ordered.

"My sins? I don't have any sins." You did your best to hold back the tears, trying to figure out who you were talking to.

"Everyone has sins. Confess, and you will be forgiven." He stared you down, waiting for a response.

You simply shook your head, mouth slightly agape. The smell was getting to you. You couldn't think straight with the pain in your head.

"I- I don't know what-"

"YES YOU DO. CONFESS." He hit you, whipping your head to the left.

-

"Hotch, he took drugs to escape. Dilaudid cut with a psychedelic." Emily relayed the information her and JJ got from Tobias's sponsor.

"We've got something too. The dates in his journals don't add up. He was talking about his father as if he was alive months after he killed him."

"His father beat him, preached about sin." Emily replied, putting the pieces together alongside Hotch.

"Split personality. Profile the father. He could be the key to finding Y/N." Even just saying your name he felt his heart clench.

-

"Who are you?" You questioned him as soon as he walked through the door, trying to figure out who you were dealing with this time.

"Tobias." He moved about the cabin almost nervously.

"Who was here before?" You knew Rafael, but the other personality was a mystery.

"My father." Definitely the most violent. He was who you had to look out for. "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

Tobias looked over you newly forming bruises before pulling off his belt.

"No. No what are you doing?" You felt your heart rate increase as he wrapped the belt around your arm. You could barely register the words he was saying, something about escaping from the pain.

"Please. I don't want it. I'm fine." You begged, tears brimming your eyes. He ignored your pleas, injecting the drug into your bloodstream.

Despite how much you hated it, you felt the relief he was talking about. The pain was gone, even if just briefly. You thought about your time spent with Hotch. It didn't feel like long enough. You wanted more. You had so much you wanted to do with him.

"Aaron..." You mumbled his name between kisses. "They could see us." You did little to stop him, despite your words.

"We should tell them." He whispered against your mouth, holding you close. "They would be happy for us."

You sighed blissfully, forehead pressed against his. "Really? You know they've got a pool going to see when we'd finally get together. Who do you think had money on 4 months ago?" You laughed into his neck, pulling him closer.

"My bet's on Rossi. He knows us both too well." Aaron smiled, a full genuine smile.

"You're probably right, but just to make it interesting, I'm betting Reid. He's too observant not to have noticed." You squinted at the window, knowing Reid was staring at the closed blinds on the other side.

That earned a laugh, one you could feel in his chest pressed tightly to your own.

"I love you." He kissed your head, content to hold you for a little while longer.

"I love you too." You leaned ever farther into him. "We can tell them when we get back from this next case."

"Deal."

-

"Get in here!" Reid called from the computer room, pointing to a screen where you were being broadcast. You were handcuffed and tied to a chair, clearly beaten.

"Pick one to die." The voice of Tobias could be heard, despite him not being visible on the screen.

You shook your head, staring into the camera. You wanted to plead for Hotch to save you, but you knew it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need that on his conscience.

"Choose one, and I will free another."

You shook your head again, trying to think of a clue you could give the team. "I won't let you hunt them like a poacher."

"Now. Or I will kill them all." He threatened, lifting you from the ground.

"I'll pick who lives." You stuttered, breaths coming fast and short. "The right screen."

You were forced to watch as he turned off the camera, leaving the screens to show the heinous murders he was about to commit.

Suddenly, Rossi was talking to you through the screen. The sight of him nearly brought you to tears.

"Y/N. This isn't your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. We will find you, but I need you to be there when we do."

You knew exactly what he meant. You were already blaming yourself, despite Rossi's father like relationship with you, it was hard to believe him.

It did give you the strength to remember the team though. You needed to see them, all of them, again.

-

"He's back!" Morgan called everyone in to view the screens again.

"Confess your sins." They watched as he beat you.

You cried. You begged him to stop. You begged Tobias for help, but nothing worked.

Hotch felt his heart break even more with every word.

Suddenly, you were on the ground, still tied to the chair. You were seizing, Charles Hankel watching as it happened.

The screen went dark, causing Hotch to punch the desk.

"Dammit." He shouted. He didn't care if his worry was beginning to poke through the surface. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now.

"The timestamp." Emily's voice drew him out of his head. "There's only a few minutes between the time of death and when it was posted. He's got to be close to the crime scene."

Finally. Something that felt like progress.

-

They watched the screen as you appeared again.

"Choose one to die." It was Rafael this time.

"I can't. I can't do it." Your face betrayed every emotion you were feeling inside.

"Pick one." He stated again.

"Me. Kill me." You nearly begged.

"You said you weren't one of them. Your team has 7 other members. Choose one of them to die."

You shook your head, fear gripping you once again as he pulled out the revolver.

"Choose." He connected the gone to your forehead, resting it there.

"No." He pulled the trigger, watching as you flinched.

"Choose." You shook your head, tensing as he pulled the trigger again.

Hotch felt his heart in his stomach, internally begging you to just say a name. He couldn't watch you die, not like this.

"Choose." He pulled the trigger yet again at your silence.

"I won't do it." You held firm, knowing you had limited chances.

"Choose one to die."

You opened your mouth, panting as an idea came to you.

"I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Your heart ached even saying it, but you needed to give him a clue. "He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone. He'd go to his grave knowing he was wrong." You winced internally, trying not to give away your plan.

Hotch left the room, trying to understand your words. The two of you had just argued about the definition of classic narcissism.

"I think you're wrong." You laughed at his amused expression.

"Yeah? Or do you just like making me exasperated?" He questioned your motives, pulling you closer as you laid in bed together.

"Maybe a little bit of both." You shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Promise me something?" You asked, a nervous expression on your face.

"What?" He looked at you with so much concern, you felt your heart beat a little faster.

"If... If I die, you can't blame yourself." He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept going. "I know you Aaron. You'd take it to grave thinking it was your fault. I can't let you do that. Not when I know you blame yourself for Haley's death." You felt your heart break for him and the pain he had been through. "Promise me." You were nearly begging.

"I promise." He whispered, his throat tight at the idea of losing you.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Rossi's voice.

"Hotch, you know Y/N didn't mean any of that." Rossi tried gently, unsure of how Hotch was coping with your situation.

"I'm not a narcissist. What's my worst quality?" He looked at the apprehensive looks everyone was giving him. "I'll start, I have no sense of humor."

He nodded along as his team listed his faults.

"None of you said I ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Y/N and I just argued about the definition of classic narcissism." He paced, trying to put it together. "I'd take it to my grave... Grave was a hint."

"What? How do you know?" Reid shook his head, trying to understand the logic.

"I made a promise. It's a long story." He shook his head, trying to clear the memory so he could focus. "Y/N knew I would remember it."

"A cemetary. It's got to be a cemetary." Morgan added.

"No cemeteries on the map." Garcia was typing away on the computer.

"Like a poacher." Reid whispered, staring at the screen.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him, eyes pleading for an answer.

"That's what Y/N said in the first video. 'I won't let you hunt them like a poacher.'" He said it louder, more excited than before.

"Garcia, any reports of poaching in the area?" Hotch asked, the idea of finding you causing hope to erupt in his chest.

"Yes, at Marshall Parrish... and there's a cemetery on the grounds." She gave them the address, watching as they ran out to the SUVs.

-

"I'm sorry." Tobias said it so softly, you were almost certain you didn't hear it at all.

"Wh- why?" Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

"He'll win. In the end, he always does." He rose from the crouched position, slowly injecting you with more drugs.

"Hotch!" You screamed, feeling arms restraining you from behind.

You watched as he went into the hostage situation, unarmed and without a vest.

"Derek. Let me go!" You struggled in his grasp, straining to get free.

"There's nothing you can do, he's already inside." He stated the truth, although it did little to calm your nerves.

You settled down, throat tight with worry. You bit your lip, eyes flitting between the door and windows. You just needed a sign, anything to say he was alright.

The sound of a gun firing stunned you. You were frozen in place, fear consuming you. You had just told him you loved him for the first time this morning. What if you never get to say it again? What if that's all the time you got.

You stared in horror as everyone ran toward the house, only to freeze when a voice shouted everything was fine.

"It's fine." He huffed, carrying the small child out of the house toward a waiting EMT. "Baxter is dead."

"Aaron..." You whispered the name, realizing how powerless you felt when he was in danger. The two of you made eye contact across the yard, a reassuring look in his eye.

"Aaron..." You whispered, blinking rapidly as you slowly came to.

"What about Aaron." Charles. Tobias's dad was back.

"I couldn't stop him. I couldn't keep him safe." You muttered to yourself, not fully understanding the situation.

"Is that a confession?" He asked, voice hard.

"Yes." It was more of a breath of air than a word, but it was all he needed to condemn you.

He unlocked your handcuffs, forcing a shovel into your newly freed arms before dragging you outside.

"Dig." he instructed plainly, watching over you as stray tears wet the ground beneath you.

-

"Clear." Morgan called from one side of the shed.

"Clear" Hotch replied from the other. With the whole team in the small space, it wasn't exactly necessary but it was habit.

Hotch could feel his nerves picking up again as he realized this meant you were still with Tobias. He paced back and forth, feeling powerless.

"Spread out. They have to be on foot." He left without waiting for a response, turning left with JJ to look for you.

-

You did your best to stall, but Charles wasn't the most patient.

"Dig faster."

"I'm trying. I'm trying." You whimpered, movements speeding up ever so slightly. The massive knife in his hands causing your own to shake.

"You're weak. Move." He huffed, throwing his jacket to the ground before ripping the shovel from your hands.

A flash of light in the trees caught your eye. Flashlights. Your team. Aaron.

Your eyes flickered between the man in front of you and the trees, causing him to turn.

You took the split second he wasn't looking to grab the gun from his jacket, swiftly aiming it as he turned back to you knife raised.

"Only one bullet in that gun." He lunged for you, falling backwards after you pulled the trigger.

You dropped the gun, quickly tossing the knife away.

"Tobias?" You cried, moving back toward him.

"You killed me." He seemed surprised, but grateful at the same time.

You felt the tears pouring down your face as you apologized.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You grabbed his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes as he asked one final question.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?"

You barely registered the arms around you, pulling you to your feet. You couldn't take your eyes off of Tobias. He wasn't the one who hurt you. He helped you, or at least tried.

"I killed him." Your breathing picked up, vision blurring.

"Y/N, look at me." You turned to the voice, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

"Aaron?" You took a stuttering breath, trying to make sure this was real.

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." His words were just as reassuring to himself as they were to you. You caught JJ's eye over Hotch's shoulder, quickly moving to hug her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should've-" You cut her off.

"None of this was your fault. It was my idea to split up. I'm so sorry." You cried into her shoulder, knowing how guilty she must've felt.

She hugged you back, tears brimming her own eyes at seeing you alive again.

She lead you to the EMT, not commenting on the look you threw over your shoulder at Aaron. He quickly followed you to the ambulance. JJ left you to talk to Hotch, who stayed beside you the entire time the medics looked you over.

"I didn't mean it." You said when you were finally alone, sitting between the open doors of the ambulance.

"What?" Aaron questioned, his mind not following your own train of thought.

"When... When I had to choose. I didn't mean any of it." You could feel the tears coming, but this time you did nothing to hold them back.

"I know. I knew the whole time." You brushed your tears away, looking you in the eye. "I love you so much." He whispered, his own eyes feeling watery.

"I love you too." You leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. You couldn't help but look over at the team, all of whom quickly pretended not to be watching. You huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think they're going to have some questions." Hotch smiled, glad to see you happy even if just for a second.

"After this case, right?" You looked back at him, confirming you still wanted to share your relationship with the team.

"Deal." He smiled, arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer.

-

You couldn't help but bring it up on the jet ride home.

"So, who had money on four months ago?" You questioned, tucked into Aaron's side on the couch.

"What?" Emily raised a brow at your sudden statement.

"That's when we started dating." You grinned at her shocked expression.

"Dammit Reid." Morgan huffed, handing over the money.

"Don't forget Rossi!" Reid high fived the older man, the two grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Looks like we were both right." Hotch smiled into your hair, trying to hide his laugh.

"Yeah. We make a pretty good team." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"I love you." He murmured, face still in your hair. You turned your face into his chest before responding.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[jojosbizarrefanfics]

fun sex with kakashi? maybe reader teases him with a knowledge of icha icha paradise that he didn’t know she had? i just want him to be laughing and happy for once

oh god I LOVE this prompt for Kakashi so much 👏👏 v excited to write this one!

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late,” you said as you took your next across from Kakashi at the izakaya. You placed a hand on his shoulder as you sat and he looked up at you. You could see him smile beneath his face mask.

“Oh, you’re fine,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Very chatty student,” you said with a chuckle. “You know how it gets.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said in understanding; there were times where he would have paid anything to shut Naruto up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Your drinks came shortly after; you had visited this place enough with Kakashi that he had your order memorized. You thanked him for being on the ball and admired his face as he slipped his mask down to take a sip of his own.

Kakashi was one of your best friends, now the Hokage. And by God, was he beautiful. You’d never told him that, of course, and now that he was Hokage you were sure you didn’t stand a chance. He could have anyone.

“What are you reading?” You asked. Kakashi answered by raising an eyebrow as he sipped his drink. “You have a book tucked beneath your arm,” you observed. “Were you reading while you waited for me?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Kakashi said. The smile that graced his face was nervous. “Nothing I haven’t read a thousand times before.”

You grinned. “A thousand times before? Can I see?”

Kakashi panicked internally but knew it would make it worse as he stopped you from reaching across your table for two. He was grateful that you were in your usual, private corner when you flipped open to wear the book was dog-earred.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you were joking around when you carried this with you everywhere,” you teased. “Ah, but you’re at my favorite part.”

Kakashi thought he was going to choke on his drink. “You have a favorite part?” He leaned forward. “You’ve read those?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. “The next scene is so romantic, don’t you think? When he takes her to the tower and they’re looking at the stars... it’s so dreamy.”

Kakashi’s face turned red. You left out, of course, that they were looking at the stars as the main character fucked his heroine over a desk in a high tower.

“Yeah,” Kakashi said as he cleared his throat. “Romantic is one way to put it, I suppose.”

You handed him his book back. It promptly went in his lap.

“You all right?” You asked Kakashi. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said as he shifted in his seat. Kakashi was not all right, but he needed to play it cool. “Just... wasn’t expecting that from you.”

You smirked. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Kakashi could feel his face heating up and was grateful for the dim lighting in the bar. You still noticed his blush, but didn’t say anything. You just kept a mental note of that.

As you wrapped up your catching up and bar snacks, Kakashi said, “I know I normally walk you home, but I have to swing by the office. I left some things behind. Do you want to come with me before I walk you home?”

“Yeah, it’s a nice night anyway,” you said with a smile.

His mask was back on once you left the izakaya, and he was oddly quiet the whole way. The streets were pretty quiet as it was getting fairly late, but between your skills as a shinobi and Kakashi being the hokage, you didn’t feel anything other than safe despite the silence.

Once you got to his office, Kakashi closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled his mask down; that was odd, you thought. While you had seen his face plenty of times before whenever you’d meet at the izakaya weekly to catch up, he usually still opted to wear it when he wasn’t eating or drinking.

“I... don’t have anything I need from here, actually,” Kakashi confessed. You rose a brow at him and then, once you realized the room you were in, it dawned on you.

Kakashi saw you figuring it out on your face and he was certain you’d be mad, but you just gaped at him jokingly and said, “Kakashi! Trying to get all smooth with me, now, are you?”

Kakashi laughed nervously. “You said you thought that part was romantic. You even called it your favorite!”

You laughed and grabbed a hold of his hand. You lead him towards his desk where you had a better view out the window if you leaned against the back of it. You could see the whole village from here, with a beautiful view of the stars.

“It is lovely up here, though,” you said. You leaned your head against his arm. Kakashi smiled down at you. “Your attempt at being smooth worked.”

“If I had known you liked Icha Icha, I’d have brought you up here sooner,” Kakashi said.

“There’s a lot more to than scene than the stargazing that I like, but this is nice too,” you admitted.

Kakashi laughed. “Whoa! You don’t get to just say something like that and then drop it like it’s nothing.”

You pushed some of your hair back. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m getting at, Hatake.”

“Excuse you,” he replied with a fake gasp of offense at your attitude, “that’s Hokage to you.”

It was your turn to laugh. You decided to lay your response on thick. “Alright then, Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi’s stomach dropped at the way you said Hokage-sama. It was part playful, part sexy, and the honorific was unexpected. He couldn’t help himself any longer and kissed you. Your hands found his hair as you melted into Kakashi’s kiss, and he already knew he couldn’t get enough of the way you tugged at it.

Kakashi had struggled for a long time with his feelings. It was hard for him to get too close to anyone these days, but you made it so easy, and your weekly izakaya dates made Kakashi feel like you were his home. Kissing you felt right, he thought, and he was mad at himself for not acting on this sooner since it seemed like you were in the same boat of harboring affections.

“Do you want me to bend you over my desk so we can watch the stars?” Kakashi asked against your mouth. “It’s your favorite part of the book after all, isn’t it?”

“Will all of Konoha see us with these windows?” You asked between kisses.

“And what would they gonna do about it if they could?” Kakashi asked with a smug grin. “I’m the Hokage, after all.”

You laughed. “Well then, what are you waiting for, Hokage-sama?”

That was all Kakashi needed to start stripping you of your clothes. Your vests were first to fall forgotten to the floor, the kunai you kept in yours causing them to hit the ground with a soft clank. You and Kakashi didn’t rush your disrobing, but slowly helped each other remove your garments one by one.

“So did I totally mess up our friendship, or what?” Kakashi asked as he kissed your neck.

“Depends on how you define mess up,” you said. “If you mean ‘never be able to go into my friend’s office and look him in the eye at his desk without having to touch myself afterwords,’ then absolutely.”

He laughed pretty loudly as he cupped one of your bare breasts in his hand. “I think I can live with that. I’d like to think of you getting off to me when you’re alone, all riled up after a meeting with the Hokage. Naughty girl.”

You both giggled at his playful teasing and then Kakashi bent you over his desk. You could see the view out the window of the village and the clear night sky, just like in Icha Icha Paradise.

You felt one of Kakashi’s hands grip tightly at your ass. Meanwhile, with his free hand, he dipped two fingers into you.

“How long have you wanted this?” Kakashi asked as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. “With me?”

It was hard to speak without moaning, but you managed a, “Longer than I’d care to admit.”

He sighed. “I really am a fool, huh? We could have been doing this much sooner. Hey, can you do me a favor and reach in that front left desk drawer?”

His nonchalance as he fingered you was typical Kakashi, but you managed to open it. You could safely assume the box of condoms was what he was looking for, so you fetched one for him.

“Thanks,” he said. “Iruka got me these as a joke when I became Hokage. Said he thought I might need ‘em.”

You held back a snort. “We’ll have to ask him how to perform the foresight jutsu.”

Kakashi laughed. You already missed the feeling of his fingers in you when he withdrew them to unwrap the condom, but it wasn’t long before you were filled with Kakshi’s cock. He started off slow but quickly upped the pace, landing on one when he heard you moan in a way that nearly made him cum early from how sweet the sound was.

The sensation of Kakashi filling you completely, gripping at your hips, and of your nipples rubbing against the smooth surface of his desk combined nearly sent you over the edge. What did you in was Kakashi’s deep voice moaning your name, a pleasure you only thought you’d experience in your dreams.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was convinced that you were made for each other as he felt your pussy clench in orgasm on his cock. He kept thrusting, intensifying your own orgasm the whole way.

When Kakashi came, you both stayed in that position for a moment as you caught your breath. Once he pulled out, he side-stepped to help you stand. Your legs were a bit wobbly, but Kakashi had you in his arms as you stood. He dumped the condom in the nearest trash bin and was quick to walk back to you.

“I’ll clean this up in the morning,” he said as he referenced his desk’s messy state. You helped each other get dressed and along the way, Kakashi would sneak kisses on your cheek here and there.

Your walk home was as quiet as your walk to his office was, except now Kakashi was holding your hand. When you reached your home, you broke the silence.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

Kakashi nodded. “I’d like that.”

[newtonsheffield]

did we see good girl eddie and goose yet?

‘cause bagwell is already scared of Anthony, but imagine if it’s good girls!anthony

We haven't officially seen Eddie and Goose yet!

But let's take a look! Especially at Goose+ Anthony

Matthew Bagwell seemed to spend 90% of his life being sickeningly nervous these days. Ever since he'd gone the the library one Saturday morning, and seen a girl, around his age, be jostled roughly past sending all of the books she'd been carrying back to her table flying. Matthew had leapt forward to help her after the man had shrugged barely apologetically. He's squatted in front of her, and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen looked up at him through wire rimmed glasses.

"Oh thank you, You don't need to help." She'd said a little kindly, still smiling despite the fact she'd just had her possessions scattered everywhere.

"No um, it's fine. I like helping." Matt had said, like a complete bloody moron. And she'd smiled as their fingers brushed when he handed her her books.

"I'm Edwina. What's your name?"

"Beautiful." It had leapt out of his mouth before he could stop it. His mouth dropping open in horror at himself. "Fuck, Matt, I'm Matt. I'm not beautiful, you are. I mean, Shit, sorry, I'm not like a sex pest or anything I-"

And she'd burst out laughing, her beautiful face crumpled with joy, "You're cute, come sit with me." And he'd started what he was pretty sure was going to be the rest of his life.

Matt knew Edwina's older sister, Kate, was at Cambridge. Their entire family was, pretty rightfully Matt thought, very proud of that fact, and she and Edwina were close, Edwina was always telling hims stories about Kate, and the antics they'd gotten up to

"I really want you to meet Kate. You'll love her." She sighed and honestly, the thought made him a little unwell. Because Edwina had said so many times that there was no one whose opinion mattered more than Kate's. And what was worse, Edwina's parents, as lovely as they were, practically gushed about her boyfriend. Anthony was so lovely, such a nice boy, they wondered when he was going to propose, though Matt knew they couldn't be more than 21.

"Kate and Anthony are coming to visit!" Edwina said excitedly one morning, almost as soon as she arrived at the library. And as happy as he was for her, anxiety bubbled in his stomach. "You have to come and meet Kate! Please!" And how could he say no.

The minute he'd met Kate Sharma, he was sure, he'd never met a more intimidating young woman in his entire life. She was tall, and her cheekbones were high and proud, and just as strikingly beautiful as her younger sister, if in a slightly more menacing way, and she was impeccably dressed in a smart skirt and blouse, her blazer hanging over her shoulders. But her smile was bright and kind as she greeted her family and then Matt, she took a genuine interest in his plans to go to Oxford when he graduated.

"Katie, it's a shame Anthony couldn't travel with you." Mrs. Sharma had hummed a little sadly, and Kate had sighed.

"Yeah, he had to work, he'll be down Saturday though." And Matt had immediately formed an image of what Anthony must look like, probably wore a sweater vest and suspenders, he figured.

Matt just happened to be at the Sharmas for tea on Saturday, Edwina had insisted he come, though he felt a little like he was intruding. When the roar of a motorcycle sounded down the street. Kate immediately abandoned the book she'd been reading, dropped it on the floor and sprinted from the living room.

"You'll see." Eddie shrugged rolling her eyes affectionately, and seconds later Matt heard an excited squeal in the hallway as the door opened.

Matt couldn't help peer curiously into the room and what he saw was the most confusing sight he'd ever seen. Kate Sharma, had her legs wrapped around the waist of an absolutely behemoth man. Matt was sure he'd be taller even than his own six foot frame. His hair was braided back, tattoos running up his thick arms, a leather jacket clearly abandoned on the floor as he'd caught her leaping towards him. And yet the expression on his face was nothing short of lovestruck.

"We missed you, Princess." He grinned down at her, accompanied by a yip which, matt was startled to realise , had come from a corgi, strapped into a backpack wearing jesus christ were those motorcycle goggles?!

Matt was roughly shoved past by Mr Sharma as this man set Kate gently on the ground, followed by the dog.

"Anthony, son, how was your ride?" This was Anthony?! This terrifying man was the boyfriend the Sharmas loved so much?! Matt was baffled as Mrs. Sharma bustled past him.

"It was great, thanks Tom." Anthony was saying. Tom?! Matt had hardly been able to get Eddie's Dad to say three words together to him. "Newton had a great time."

"Anthony sweetheart, you look skinny!" Mrs. Sharma was saying, practically dragging Anthony past Matt. Skinny?! His arm was thicker than Matt's neck. "Doesn't Katie feed you up there?"

"He does the cooking, Mary!" Kate was saying, rolling her eyes as Anthony grinned.

"Not at all, Mary, I'm wasting away."

"Oh you poor thing, I'll make you something." Mrs. Sharma said completely ignoring her daughter.

"hey Kiddo." Anthony grinned at Eddie as he passed.

Matt watched, his mind desperately trying to catch up, as Mrs. Sharma placed an entire banquet platter of samosas in front of Anthony not too long after.

"Mary, these are some of your best. Beautiful!" Anthony said happily kissing Mrs. Sharma on the cheek as she past, Kate humming happily in his lap.

'Oh you're sweet."

And finally, Matt was terrified to say, Anthony's attention fell on him. "Who's this then Eddie?"

"Eddie's boyfriend, Mark." Mr Sharma said a little dryly.

"Matt, Dad." Edwina said rolling her eyes.

"Oh right, Matt." Mr Sharma said, still paying him no mind.

And honestly, as if the day wasn't odd enough, Matt had to scoot, his bicycle past Anthony's enormous motorbike, and he was positive, the dog had come out of that sidecar.

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 17

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.4k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Henry’s life is slowly but surely becoming what he originally wanted. He adopted Vanessa a few weeks ago and he never thought he could be so emotional. He cried while he had to sign the papers, he cried the entire way back to the car, to a point where Olivia decided it would be best if she drove back to his parents’ place. He sat in the back of the car, right next to Vanessa, who wasn’t crying, but went out of her way to comfort him. He was just so happy that it was official now.

If—God forbids—something happen to Olivia, Vanessa goes right to him. They don’t have to bother with that low life of a Wesley, she is going right to him. They even changed their will. If something happens to the both of them, Vanessa goes to his family.

But right now Olivia is officially thirteen weeks pregnant and it’s getting harder and harder now to hide her belly. Since she is out of her first trimester, she is been feeling a lot better. She told him that during her pregnancy with Vanessa, she puked quite a lot, but that was nothing compared to how she is feeling with this baby.

But right now, her glow is mesmerizing. She was always beautiful, but seeing her in her underwear before she trows on his shirt at night, he realizes that she is a whole different kind of breathtaking now. After she steps into the bed, he lays behind her, wraps his arm around her waist and sneaks a hand under her shirt. He loves feeling her tiny bump. It’s still beyond him that this is happening, that they’ve created an already beautiful human. He cannot wait to see the more definite changes of her body, the further she gets into this pregnancy.

It’s Friday and they are waiting for Vanessa to walk out of the school. Henry wraps his fingers around her hand and pulls Olivia closer to his body. The weather is getting nicer and nicer, making it even harder for her to hide her little bump. She opted for a pretty midi skirt with a large shirt over it, that doesn’t show anything yet.

Today they are not only going to tell Vanessa about the baby when they are at home, but they are going to tell his entire family, since they are having a little dinner at his mom’s. The school bell rings and it doesn’t take long, before Vanessa rushes out of the school. Thankfully she has adopted a new normal by jumping into Henry’s arms, instead of Olivia’s, like she used to do. She presses tons of kisses on his cheeks, before she leans down to give Olivia a kiss.

Keeping this a secret has been the hardest thing, especially since Henry wants to share this with everyone.

‘Ready to go home, sunshine?’ Henry asks her and she nods. While he carries her to the car, she keeps on talking about how wonderful school was. Though he doesn’t quite understand that she likes school this much (especially with the witch that calls herself miss Sue in front of the class), he likes her stories. He could listen to her for hours on end and not be bored for a second.

Henry helps his official daughter in her carseat and while he drives back home, he holds Olivia’s hand. Once they are home, Olivia pulls Vanessa with her and the two of them sit on the couch.

He leans against the doorframe, wanting to see everything that is going to happen, but also allowing them to experience this. He might be officially Vanessa’s dad now, it’ll take a long time before they will have the bond that Vanessa has with her mother. Their bond is so tight, it’s mesmerizing. ‘Vanessa, sweetheart,’ Olivia says, ‘I have something to tell you.’

Vanessa looks at her mom with a frown between her brows. ‘Okay… What is it, mommy?’

Olivia takes Vanessa’s hand and places it onto her stomach. ‘Mommy is growing a baby in her stomach right now,’ she says in a soft voice. ‘And that means you are going to be a big sister.’

Henry had looked online on how to tell your kids that they are going to be a brother or sister. He saw all those sweet and funny videos online, with cakes, balloons and other stuff, but when he showed Olivia, she simply frowned and said that she just wants to tell Vanessa.

And now when he sees this moment happening in front of his eyes, he knows damn well that it shouldn’t happen any other way than this one.

Vanessa’s eyes light up, as her hand rests on Olivia’s bump. ‘I’m going to be a big sister?’ she asks, just in case.

‘Yes, sweetheart.’

And for the first time since he met Vanessa, she is crying happy tears. They drip over her cheeks, yet a smile is evident on her face. ‘I’m doing the happy tears thing,’ she sniffles.

‘Oh sweetie,’ Olivia says, a few tears in her eyes as well. She pulls her daughter closer to her body and presses kisses on her cheek. She ushers Henry over and he walks over to his two favorite girls.

He takes place on the other side of Olivia and looks at the two of them and he can’t hide his smile.

‘Daddy,’ Vanessa says, looking up, ‘I’m going to be a big sister.’

He wipes the tears from her face. ‘I know, sunshine. You are going to be a wonderful sister,’ he tells her.

She takes his hand from her face and places it on Olivia’s bump, just like her own. ‘Are we going to tell grandma, grandpa and everyone today?’

‘We are,’ Olivia says, stroking through the soft hairs of Vanessa.

‘We do have to tell you something,’ he says to Vanessa.

‘And what’s that?’

He clears his throat. He really wants to tell her this, because he thinks it’s important. He talked about this with Olivia and she agreed to it. ‘We love you so much and we always will, sunshine, but you have to know that a new baby is hard work. Both me and your mom will be pretty tired. There is also a chance that we will not have as much time for you as we usually have.’

Vanessa nods. ‘I know,’ she tells him. ‘Bettie’s mom is usually pretty tired too, when she is pregnant and when she just had a new baby. I can help around the house and otherwise, I can sleep at grandma’s place. I think she and grandpa want to babysit, so you can maybe sleep in.

How is he going to be an excellent father, if Olivia has managed to do this by herself? He is so lucky that this amazing woman is going to be the mother of their kids.

‘Then we have nothing to worry about,’ Olivia chuckles, kissing Vanessa’s cheek. ‘You are such an angel.’

Vanessa smiles. ‘So when is this baby going to be born? Bettie’s mom always knows, but she said something about a flu date?’

Olivia chuckles. ‘Due date, sweetheart. The doctor can guess a little bit. So the due date for this baby is the twenty first of November.’

‘That’s near my birthday.’ She smiles even brighter than before. ‘I kind of hope that the baby will be born on my birthday. That means we are going to have an even bigger party.’ Vanessa looks at Olivia’s stomach and asks: ‘When do we know if it’s a boy or girl?’

‘Somewhere in August,’ Henry says.

‘How can they know?’

Olivia gestures that she should stay put, as she walks over to her purse. ‘The doctors have a machine and what that one basically does is that it can make pictures from what’s inside my stomach.’

‘Oh,’ Vanessa says, ‘like the pictures daddy makes?’

Olivia chuckles. ‘Absolutely not.’ She plops back on the couch and shows Vanessa the picture of the ultrasound.

‘I don’t get it. There is nothing on here.’

Henry places his arm on the back of the couch and explains: ‘This little bean right here,’—he points to the same spot that the doctor showed him, because if he is being fair, he can’t see it—‘is your brother or sister and when we go back there in August, the baby is a little bigger. Right now he or she is as big as… what was it again, sweetheart?’

‘A lemon, so there isn’t much to see yet.’

Vanessa nods. ‘When you go to the doctor to see if I get a baby brother or sister, can I come with you?’

Olivia nods. ‘Of course you can,’ she says.

Vanessa leans down, pushes up her mom’s shirt, as she whispers against the tiny bump: ‘When you are older, you and I are going to eat chocolates at night, but don’t tell mommy and daddy, because I don’t think they’ll allow it.’

≫≫≪≪

Henry is insanely nervous for meeting his family. He knows that they will love it, he is absolutely sure of that. Though it doesn’t stop him from being nervous though. His family definitely knows how babies are made, but exposing the fact that they have been having sex and now she is pregnant…

He holds onto Olivia’s hand so tightly, that she has to whisper that he needs to chill, because he is hurting her.

And he never wants to do that of course.

Olivia came with the idea to involve Vanessa in the reveal to his family and he honestly couldn’t agree more. Vanessa was and will always be his first baby and she means the absolute world to him. The fact that she was already thinking about how she is going to be the best daughter in the world to them, how she is going to help not only her mom, but also himself out whenever she can, speaks volumes about how she is going to handle this big sister thing.

They walk around the house, to enter the garden and everyone seems to be totally happy that they have finally arrived. Vanessa continues to look at Olivia, waiting for the right moment. ‘Everybody,’ Olivia finally says. ‘Our little Vanessa has a little surprise.’

‘Little princess, what you got?’ Charlie says.

She unzips her vest and shows everyone her shirt. ‘I’m going to be a— Oh my God!’ Belle screams, running towards Olivia. The rest is further away from Vanessa, so they haven’t even read it yet, by the time Belle has pulled Olivia in a hug. ‘I’m so happy for you, babe.’

Henry watches as the rest of the family has yet to catch on, but his mother is the first to notice. She starts to tear up and Henry quickly walks over to her, to engulf her into a tight hug.

While his brothers and father are the first to congratulate Vanessa, giving her big hugs and saying how she is going to be such an amazing big sister, he hears his mother sniffle: ‘This is wonderful news, my dear.’

Since he officially adopted Vanessa, he realized that his mother was finally getting what she wanted. A big family, where she would be the grandma of the entire clan, a role that she had been wanting ever since his brothers and he reached the age of twenty. She never pushed them to get married and to have kids, but now she is finally getting the larger family she always wanted. It’s long overdue.

The fact that Olivia already had a wonderful daughter and him being really serious about having kids, made it easier for them to get pregnant, though it wasn’t necessarily planned. A couple like Simon and Belle are not even thinking about children. Well, they are, as in: we don’t want them right now.

After everyone gave him one hug, Vanessa at least two and Olivia a big hug and a kiss on her cheek, he can finally stand next to his beautiful girlfriend again. ‘Can I?’ he asks, letting his hand hover over her stomach.

‘You can always do that,’ she whispers, pressing a kiss on his jaw.

He gently places his hand on her tiny bump and she places her hand on top of his. ‘God, you are so amazing,’ he chuckles.

‘Don’t forget to give yourself credit, Henry,’ she says. ‘Remember, you are going to be a wonderful father, I just know it. You have already proven how much of an excellent dad you are with Vanessa.’

‘Can I take you with me for just a second?’ he asks, looking over at how Piers and Niki are showing off their football skills, though Vanessa doesn’t seem impressed at all.

Henry carefully pulls Olivia with him, until they are inside. He clears his throat and asks: ‘Should I share this with my fans?’ It has been a question that has been running through his thoughts for quite a while now.

Since he met Olivia, he posted pictures of course. After he first met her, he took a picture of Kal on the couch, looking a little sad and he wrote in the caption: Thanks to the greatest veterinarian who did pick up at three in the morning, Kal is all okay now after he vomited over my new carpet, though I was informed that he was kinda fat, so I have to work on that.

After that he posted pictures of Kal, of the Christmas tree and the cookies that he attempted to make for them. But he kept both of them out of the picture and since Valentines Day, he didn’t post anything.

Olivia smiles before she nods. ‘You can, as long as my face or Vanessa’s isn’t splattered on the news.’

Henry scoffs. ‘You think I’d allow that?’ He leans in to press a kiss on her forehead. ‘I just feel like I should tell them that we are expecting.’

‘You should tell the whole story,’ she tells him, grabbing his hands. ‘That you have a girlfriend, adopted Vanessa and that we are expecting.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks. ‘I mean, I know that you two didn’t ask to be in the spotlights like that and I don’t want to force it on you.’

She pulls him closer and gives him a long kiss on his lips. ‘I am one hundred percent sure, sweetheart.’

≫≫≪≪

girlygirlx2: OH MY GOD?!?! THIS IS SO FUCKING UNEXPECTED!!!

kieralee: sooooo, we are getting Dad!Henry content? because i’m up for it!!!!

julia5487: hold up… he adopted someones kid and now they are having a kid on their own? wth happened?

muziarealm: I really want to see the lucky ass lady who is giving him babies.

kittycat421: OMG THIS IS SO AWESOME?!?!?!?!?!?!

ursula_9903: HOLY CRAP!!!!!! congratulations are in order!!!

[artificialqueens]

You've Got the Love I Need (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Five times Denali and Rosé share their love with a love language, and one time they share it with words.

A/N: So excited to finally finish this! Writing has been so slow for me after finishing up the hunger games fic, but I finally got this done, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it and love hearing your thoughts!

Title from You've Got the Love by Florence + the Machine.

1. Acts of Service

“Denali, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Rosé asks--or rather, she asks the pile of clothes Denali is hidden behind, as she carries an overflowing laundry basket.

“I got it.”

“I think I’d be more convinced if I could actually see you.” Rosé leaves the rice she’s stirring and helps Denali set the laundry basket down on the floor, clothes spilling over the sides.

Denali sighs, picking up a shirt and folding it before tossing it back down. “I should probably finish dinner before I do this. Ugh, and I still need to shower and revise that competition routine.” She rubs at her tired eyes, and Rosé’s heart aches. Denali’s had such a busy week at work that she’s gotten behind in just about everything else. Rosé offered to help her already, but Denali said she was fine, so used to doing things on her own that asking for help--let alone accepting it--wouldn’t even cross her mind.

“Hey.” Rosé gently rests her hands on Denali’s shoulders. “I’ll finish dinner while you take a shower. Then you can finish your work after.”

She sees the immediate protest in Denali’s eyes, the stubborn insistence that she can do everything on her own. And technically she can, but Rosé doesn’t want her to stress herself when she doesn’t have to. Rosé is more than happy to help, and she herds Denali to the bathroom before she can protest.

Rosé hums through the kitchen, organizing the fridge and loading Denali’s dishwasher, arranging all the food on the table as Denali emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp at the edges, her face soft and smile wide.

“This is so good,” Denali sighs around a mouthful of food. “Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

Rosé just laughs. She’s gotten better at cooking over the years, especially in the past few months she’s been dating Denali, eager to try new recipes that would make Denali happy.

They do the dishes side by side, bumping hips and shoulders, and retreat to the couch so Denali can work while a cooking show plays in the background.

Rosé reaches for the laundry basket and starts folding one of Denali’s towels.

“You don’t have to do that,” Denali says.

“I want to.”

“But it’s our date night, you shouldn’t have to--”

“I want to,” Rosé says again. “I like helping you out, taking care of you. I mean it.”

Denali smiles hesitantly, relaxing again as she returns to her work, and it fills Rosé with warmth. It’s special to help Denali like this, to take care of her and ease some of her stress, and it’s even more special because of how stubborn and independent Denali normally is. She’s not just accepting Rosé’s help, but her love as well. Love that Rosé wants to give, give in every folded towel and every dinner she makes, a love made of her care. Love that she hasn’t been able to put into words yet, thinking it was too early for those exact words, that she should wait a bit more to say them.

She finishes the laundry and when Denali finishes her work, they come together on the couch like two waves meeting. Denali snuggles against Rosé’s right side, resting her head on her shoulder, while Rosé slips an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Denali is half-asleep when the show ends, and Rosé carefully carries her to bed and tucks her in, leaving with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

—-

2. Words of Affirmation

Despite the freezing cold of the skating rink’s locker room, sweat beads on Denali’s forehead. This is the first routine she’s choreographed and coached for the eleven-and-twelve-year-old group she just took on in addition to the younger kids. Before that she stuck mostly with five- and six-year-olds, who were encouraged on the ice by their parents and thrilled by the sparkly costumes and idea of jumping in the air. It’s fun, and most of them stop formal lessons when it’s time to move into the next age group. But there’s rarely anyone who would continue to the eleven-twelve group if they weren’t serious about it, weren’t in it to compete and win. They’ll be competing with Denali as the coach now, with Denali to blame if something goes wrong.

What if something does go wrong? What if she didn’t teach them well enough? What if she’s not even a good teacher at all, and all the things she did teach them are wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of her? What if--

“I don’t know what it is about the snack bar here, but their hot chocolate is so good--Denali, what’s wrong?”

Denali’s head snaps up to see Rosé in the locker room, two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate in her hands. She sets them on a bench and comes to Denali’s side, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you nervous about the routine?” Rosé asks.

Denali nods shakily, drawing in a breath. “It’s…bigger than I’m used to. With the little kids, it’s a huge deal if they stand up the whole time. But these kids really want to be great, and don’t even get me started on the parents. I’m just worried I didn’t teach them well enough, that I’m a bad coach.”

It’s a weight off her chest, and it leaves her slumping in relief, leaning into the hands Rosé places on her arms.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rosé says gently. “I was a wreck when I started teaching and we had our first choir concert. But you’re an amazing coach. I know you’ve taught those kids everything they need to know. I believe in you, Denali, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Those kids are lucky to have you as their coach. And if any of their parents give you trouble, they’ll have to go through me first,” Rosé says fiercely, squeezing Denali’s arms.

Denali wipes away a tear, Rosé’s words everything she needed to hear. Denali’s no stranger to anxiety, to the doubts and worries swirling around her head. But to have Rosé, to have those words of trust and support, is sometimes exactly what she needs to quiet them down. Rosé believes in her, and Denali can believe in herself too.

“You’re right,” Denali says quietly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Rosé nods, handing Denali one of the cups. “Let’s have some hot chocolate and go out there, okay?”

Denali nods, the drink warming her just as much as Rosé’s hand in hers as they head out.

—-

3. Quality Time

Ever since Rosé was little, she’s loved blanket forts. It started out as something her parents would do to make movie nights more special, but it quickly became something she asked for almost every weekend, or whenever she was upset. Something about curling up on the living room rug with blankets all around her made her feel safe, made movies even better and soothed any bad days she had at school.

The first time Rosé sheepishly suggested they watch a movie inside one, she hadn’t expected Denali to leap to her feet and run around the place looking for blankets and pillows. Denali had been in some nature scout troop when she was a kid--Rosé squealed at the picture of tiny Denali, teeth missing from her wide smile, wearing a vest and sash covered in patches--and knew how to pitch a tent, a skill she brought to their blanket fort. She used kitchen chairs and the couch for extra support, a canopy of cotton and flannel covering the living room. It stood strong and sturdy while they were nestled safely inside, and it became a movie night tradition.

“How’s the popcorn coming?” Denali asks.

“Almost done.” Rosé shakes the pot as the kernels pop while Denali tends to the hot chocolate, pouring it into two mugs--the one with little cartoon dogs Rosé bought so Denali could have her own special mug here, and the one with pink music notes Denali got Rosé as a just-because gift.

Rosé dumps the popcorn in a big bowl and Denali drops fistfuls of marshmallows into the mugs, bringing it all to the living room and sliding under the blanket fort.

The best part about the fort is that it’s just them inside. They leave their phones on the couch, and there’s no work, no stress, no distractions. Just them together, their attention fully devoted to each other. A time to simply be together with nothing in the way.

Rosé starts Stardust, nestling into the long body pillow perfect for fort nights, letting Denali snuggle up next to her. Rosé takes in her long eyelashes, her warm eyes, her soft lips. She takes it all in, this time to just be with Denali.

It would be a good time to tell Denali she loves her, but it’s so quiet, so peaceful, just their breathing and the movie, that Rosé doesn’t want to disturb the moment. Besides, being with Denali like this, wiping melted marshmallow off her nose, is a love more than words can describe.

—

4. Physical Touch

Denali has always loved touch. Her parents loved her, she never doubted that, but they weren’t ones for physical affection. So Denali treasured every hug or hand on a shoulder she got from them, and sought out touches wherever she could get them. Her skating coach’s arms around her in a hug, congratulating her on her routine. A friend’s legs thrown over hers while they lay in the sunny backyard. Holding hands and interlocking fingers with her first boyfriend in high school, her first girlfriend in college.

She always sought and gave touches in her relationships. An arm around their waist, a hand on their back, her head on their shoulder. Something to let them know she was there, to share her love with them. And every touch she got back let her know they were there, filled her with their love too.

Rosé had told Denali early on that she’s asexual, and it didn’t change the way Denali feels about her, didn’t make her want to stop dating Rosé, just like Denali telling Rosé she’s bi didn’t change things either. If anything, it brought them closer, brought another level of trust between them.

But Denali also wanted to make sure her touches were okay, so they talked about what Rosé is comfortable with, what her boundaries are. Rosé gets a little uncomfortable with hands on her thighs, but she loves pretty much all other touches, loves them just as much as Denali. Hand-holding, bumping into each other while they cook, cuddling while they watch movies—Denali loves it all, and loves receiving it from Rosé especially, being filled with her love. Denali’s favorite is when Rosé wraps her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Denali’s shoulder. Rosé does it now, and Denali melts into the touch. Rosé’s been extra clingy tonight, and Denali knows it’s because she’s had a stressful week, busy with concert rehearsals for her music classes.

“Cuddles tonight?” Denali asks. The touch will comfort Rosé, but each touch will comfort Denali too, letting her share her love and feel close to Rosé.

“Please,” Rosé sighs, guiding her to the couch with her arms still around Denali’s waist. She lays on her back and pulls Denali on top of her, their touches not stopping for a moment. “This week has been so long. I swear I hear those choir songs in my sleep.”

Denali snorts, resting her head on Rosé’s chest and stroking her arm. Her touches are gentle yet grounding, soothing the both of them, giving and receiving love the best way she knows how. She continues the touches as Rosé talks, talks about how much her students have improved, how excited they are. She’s rubbing gentle circles on Rosé’s shoulder as her words slow down and her eyes drift closed.

I love you, Denali thinks. They haven’t said it yet, though it’s not for a lack of the feeling. More that they feel it so much, both in themselves and from each other, that they’ve been hesitant to turn it to words, waiting for an opportunity that would be worthy of such a confession.

Denali could just say it now. She doesn’t need a special occasion to say it, even if it’s the first time. But Rosé has been still for the past few minutes, so she’s at least half-asleep, if not all the way there. Denali can wait. She strokes Rosé’s hair, and when Rosé sighs in content, Denali thinks she got the message anyway.

—-

5. Receiving Gifts

“Rosieeeee.”

Rosé looks up as Denali enters the apartment singing her name.

“What is it?”

“I got a present for you.” Denali has that almost-smug smile on her face, the one she always gets when has something she knows Rosé will love.

And Rosé finds a similar smile of excitement crossing her own face, eagerly accepting the bag Denali gives her. It’s not that Rosé has come to expect Denali to bring her something all the time. It’s not that she even wants Denali to bring something all the time, or that she sees her as nothing but a gift-bringer. It’s that Denali’s gifts, which might be tiny little things to anyone else, make Rosé feel loved. Make her feel known. No matter what Denali brings, Rosé loves it. Sometimes it’s something sweet, a chocolate bar with ruby chocolate purchased because it’s Rosé’s favorite color, shared between them while watching a movie. Sometimes it’s just silly, like the mini unicorn erasers Rosé keeps in a little bowl by her desk. They’re all treasured by Rosé, because Denali saw even the tiniest thing in a store somewhere and instantly thought of her, and it makes Rosé marvel at Denali’s love every time.

It’s like when her parents would surprise her with a new book that became a favorite, or with a new pack of crayons that she used to fill up her coloring books. The purest feeling of excitement, of trust and safety and love.

“Come on, open it!”

As much as she loves to receive the gifts, to receive Denali’s love, it’s equally clear how much Denali loves to give it. She barely makes it five seconds before giving it to Rosé, watching her open it with that proud grin on her face like a parent watching their kid on Christmas morning.

That grin is on full display now, and Rosé smiles too as she pulls the top off a box, one you might use for earrings or a necklace. Inside the box is a beautiful rose keychain, soft pink with gold sparkles. But the keychain is attached to something--to a key, and Rosé looks up in confusion.

Denali looks at her. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place. Just in case, you know?”

Rosé grins. “You’re gonna regret this, Denali. I’ll sneak in your room at six am and give you a singing wake-up call. You’re not getting rid of me now,” she teases, but she squeezes Denali’s hand to show how much it means to her.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Denali says. “Unless you really do show up at six, then I’m taking that key back and burning it.”

They laugh together, and Rosé already plans on going there next week to surprise Denali.

---

+1

“Are you ready?” Rosé asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Denali says confidently, rubbing her hands together. “The real question is whether this place is ready for me.”

She strides into the boardwalk arcade, relishing in the bright neon lights and the hiss of arcade games spitting out paper tickets. Her parents used to drag her out of here as a kid, cutting short her quest to earn enough tickets for one of the big prizes, not just the bouncy ball or eraser you got for a mere 300 tickets. But today, it’s just her and Rosé, and they’ve already gone on the boardwalk rides and stuffed themselves with funnel cake, and now they can stay here as long as they want, clear the place out of tickets and prizes.

Denali hits up the skee-ball racks first, her and Rosé giggling next to each other as their balls fly up the ramps, giving into their competitive sides just a little as they aim for the 100-point slots in the top.

“Your aim could use a little work,” Rosé teases.

“So could your form,” Denali says. “Let me take you to the rink some time, I’ll help with that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” It’ll be another adventure, another night to enjoy, and Denali looks at Rosé, at her beautiful smile that still makes Denali’s heart flutter, and knows there’ll be no shortage of adventures, of nights like this.

She grabs Rosé’s hand and they race across the sticky floor, taking on pinball and balloon darts and Pac-Man, joking and laughing the whole time. At the end of the night, tickets spill out of their hands like tentacles, and Denali looks up at the row of prizes behind the main desk. She turns to Rosé and nods, and they pass out their tickets to the kids scattered through the arcade.

“Ice cream?” Denali asks. “All that winning made me hungry.”

Rosé snorts, but happily leads her to the ice cream stand. The stars are just starting to come out, little twinkles that catch Rosé’s hair, and Denali looks at her and says it.

“I love you.” She doesn’t need a special occasion for it, doesn’t need a worthy moment. Her love is something she can share as often as she wants, in words and in actions.

Rosé’s eyes widen and she breaks into a huge smile, pulling Denali close and kissing her cheek.

“I love you too.”

[barnesandco]

Carnations

A love story told through the four seasons of the year.

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Descriptions of violence and injury, especially in the first few paragraphs.

A/N: Look at me, ignoring my two on-hiatus series while I indulge in thematic one-shots! I had this idea that I couldn’t let go of until it was out her so I hope you like it!

He's brought to you in the dead heat of hellish midsummer, on a stretcher carried by barking Hydra guards, orders being delivered like slaps to the face. You're a trembling leaf on weak knees, so used to only the walls for company when you're bombarded by this explosion of noise, as they demand that you fix him. He - the Soldat - has been struck by a RPG, thigh torn to shreds, white bone glinting between the mauled flesh and you almost vomit. The only thing holding your stomach down is the knowledge that your food is as valuable as gold, not to be wasted with how little you receive.

They're pushing you towards him, cruel hands and crueller words against the tattered fabric covering your skin, and you step closer. Let your own hands - frail and itchy with what they hold within - hover above the mauled flesh of his thigh. You have never healed an injury of this extent, and you wonder if you are capable of it, until actions silence your doubt. The bloody muscle lifts, like magic, to return to its original place, skin drawing itself taut over him like a band-aid. All that is left is a thin gash, as if from a shallow knife wound, blood pippling out. The guards look at you sceptically, before calling for medical supplies and instructing you to dress the wound.

He wakes up mere moments after the minions have left, eyes blank and lifeless like everything else around you. Does not pay any mind to how your hands have frozen where they were pressing the gauze over the wound, and how you now stare at him, a deer in headlights.

"You're the American, right?" You have no idea what possesses you to say this, fractured Russian slipping from your tongue. Sand between fingers.

"I don't know," He answers, voice softer than carnation petals. Perfect English, broken mind. Nobody who walks through these halls is a stranger to heartbreak, but few of them are sympathetic to it. Surprisingly, you don't flinch when he moves to sit up, because the movement is mechanical and self-aware instead of malicious, as you are accustomed to. 

"Does it hurt?" You ask in his native tongue this time, and only then does he notice the wound you are dressing. Shakes his head and you nod yours, securing the dressing. Eyes meet icy blue that unthaws slowly under the heat of your gaze.

---

Autumn is settling, a deep, weary ache in your body as you prepare for the pain that winter pushes like needles into your bones. The only way you know this is by the humid, earthy scent of petrichor, for there are no falling leaves here with which to estimate the time of year. Your hands shake, fingers running across your forearms as you wait.

The Soldat is expected to return from a gruelling mission - the kind nobody escapes whole from - in a matter of minutes. The doctors determined, after your prior success, that your healing was beneficial to the body, strengthened their weapons - their soldiers - further, and so he is your patient. Sometimes, weeks will pass before you seek him, and sometimes months, but one thing remains constant.

The electricity in your veins sparking like a live wire at the touch of your skin on his, not from these powers, but from something greater. Whatever elicits that spark, makes your heart beat staccato, it gives him a color in his cheeks you have only heard of, only dreamt of. Vague memories of pink carnations planted in the boundaries of the neighborhood park come to mind when you recall his blush. Young and pink but having endured vicious pests and survived more years than you would think, blossoming season after season. 

There will be no carnations, now, however, in the dawn of autumn. Falling leaves and petrichor sunshine intermingling with rainbows framed by grey clouds wade through your memory like a sepia-tinted haze. You were eleven when Hydra found you, took you for their own and made you more powerful than you were, yet somehow smaller. The girl who growled back at stray dogs can only whimper at guards years later. 

Those guards break your silence, your reverie, as they guide in the Soldier - James, you've managed to learn - and dump him on the pile of straw they call a bed, along with the first aid kit. You won't need it tonight, so you push it aside and trail a smoldering fingertip along the gash on his cheek, desperately ignoring the softening of his concrete stare. 

Every time, the first word spoken from your chapped lips lets the spell fall away like silk down glass - smooth and quick - but you need to ensure that he is stable. The usual signal is the slowing of his heartbeat, and you settle two fingers over his wrist, letting the pulse thrum through you. His vitals are steady, as is to be expected, super-soldier strength doing its job. Your job - the healing - is but a formality, or a greed for more and for better, as he does fine without you.

"James?" You whisper, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. It doesn't work. "James? It's me. You got hurt on your mission and I'm patching you up. I need to check your torso for fractured ribs. Can you please take your jacket off?" He complies, God how you hate that word, and you're soon looking at his mostly spotless torso, defined muscles and strong structure interrupted by a single blue bruise. You prod gently, can tell by the color that it's nothing to worry about. Help him back into the jacket.

"I don't want to go back," He says suddenly, eyes downcast and the statement a sad declaration rather than a protest. As if he is surprised that he knows what he wants, or rather doesn't want, when, for as long as he can remember, he hasn't wanted anything. Weapons don't have desires, but this one is broken. This one is faulty.

"What do you mean, James?" You ask anyway, well aware of exactly what he means, just as surprised as he is that he voiced such a thing. 

"The tube. It's cold and you're warm. I don't want to go," He says, meeting your eyes, and you don't have words that encapsulate the gravity of the moment. He has become a bluebell, growing between rain-washed sidewalks, rare as can be and just as beautiful, but oh so lonely.

---

The Winter Soldier's lips are as cold as his bionic hand against the small of your back, as the concrete wall he pushes you against. Everything is quiet, as it often is when the world is numbed by snowfall, and you need not be able to see it to know that it is there. Right now, you see nothing, eyes closed, muted gasps escaping from your mouth as his moves lower to your neck, your collarbone. His teeth scrape like howling December winds against your skin, pins and needles sending trails of fire through your abdomen. His hands hold you steady while yours find solid ground between the unkempt strands of his dark hair. Arms surround your waist, a protective fortress as you desperately try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and instead focus on the closed panel in the door that guards can open to check on you.

Deciding that your attention has been diverted for too long, he returns to full height from where he was worshipping your pulse point with that pink tongue, and holds your face gently, softly in his hands. Tilts his head forward, letting his forehead meet yours with an elegant bump, before his lips slant over yours again. You drink him in like he's the last taste of water you'll ever get, like you are sick and he is the cure. His hands are roaming, roaming, roaming, inhaling these last few breaths of freedom to do as they please before they're frozen again or obligated to do worse than reduce a woman to warm sighs.

"James, please," You say, moving those hands lower, lower to pause above your navel, and he pulls away with a stifled groan. Presses his forehead to yours, trembling hands splayed out across your lower abdomen, transferring heat and cold in equivalent waves. When you shudder, it is not from the temperature, but from the power of all the words you want to say. The words you want to spill like a waterfall emerging from a burst dam, swirling and raging and dangerous, just as this is is. 

Your secret rendezvous, these post-mission meetings that turn into something more after you have done your job healing him. Dangerous doesn't even begin to cover it - it's outright foolish, asking for death. Lack of hope makes people do crazy things, such as finding love where there should be none. Love, in turn, heals in ways that your hands never can, drawing this man, this soldier, out of the mold they have put them in, the bullet casing that he is. 

He pulls back with a heavy sigh, hands moving to grip your waist and pull you upright as he looks at you, swirling blues thunderous October storms.

"I should go, shouldn't I?" He asks with a nervous glance to the door behind him. You rest your hands over his biceps, massaging the stiff muscle on your left and stroking the cold metal on your right as you answer.

"If it was up to me, you'd never leave. But yeah, I guess you should."

"It's been too long already. I'm surprised they haven't come looking yet," He says, still making no move to leave. You smile, a sad, tearful thing, and let your hands rise to cup his cheeks. He tilts his head to kiss your palm, delivers a smile softer than a carnation against your powerful skin. 

"We'll get out of this, doll, I promise," And the spell is broken as your hands slide down to grip the collar of his vest, anger and fear bubbling like lava under the heat of his kisses, of his love.

"If you're planning something-"

"I'm not. Not now, at least," He reassures, but your concern is not so easily assuaged.

"James…" You begin to warn, brows knitting together. Having grown stronger, more stable, more able to recover from the programming - even having certain moments where he breaks free of it entirely - he's growing confident. Confidence breeds free will, and free will could get them killed in a place like this. 

"Doll, I'll be fine. I'm just- I'm getting better, and they don't have the same hold on me that they used to. One of these days, baby, one of these days," He says, enveloping you in a warm embrace, lips embedding the words into your temple, a promise and a threat in equal measure wrapped like a Trojan horse he's preparing for Hydra. 

Your own arms clutch his waist tight, eyes open, steely gaze on the door as you pray he never gets the chance. You pray that Hydra self-destructs before James has a chance to do himself any harm, because you don't know if you'll survive that for long enough to heal him. There is no cure for death - it is only treated by tears.

---

Carnations bloom in the singular pot on the windowsill, a luxury the two of you have decided to afford yourselves amongst the stifling dreariness and humid gray of your Bucharest apartment. The lumpy mattress is stiff and awkward beneath you, but James' lap does a good job of shielding you from it. He sits, back against the wall and arms around you, metal hand holding the journal he is writing in, and rests the brown suede against your ribs that rise and fall with every breath you take. To anyone else, it might be irritating to have to shift and adjust in order to write, but to him, it is a valuable reminder that you're alive, you're together.

After his escape from Triskelion and the catastrophic fall of Hydra, he knew nothing, was nothing but a shell of a man scrambled like crossed wires, short-circuiting and sparking in the confines of his mind. There were two things his broken psyche held onto like a lifeline: Steve Roger's battered face in that helicarrier telling him something he's supposed to recognize, and your rare smile. 

He found you, afterwards. It took two weeks of hellscape recollections and more courage than he had any idea that he possessed, but he found you. In the abandoned ruins of a devastated Hydra base - his devastated Hydra base - he found you, eyes closed and near-dead, but no. You limped out on glowing limbs, healing yourself as he let his first tear in a century fall down his dirt-smeared cheek, yours pressed to his shoulder like a drying leaf between the pages of a cherished book.

Now, he cherishes you, relishes in you and your touch, the finest comfort he has ever had. This - your washed hair against his cheek, your legs a warm blanket straddling his, and your hands stroking a whispered song against his chest - this is a luxury. The pillow of your lips grazes the stubble on his face, a distraction, a reminder, and he let's himself smile against your mouth. Puts down the book and shifts so you're above him, his red Henley slipping down one of your shoulders to reveal the skin he would die to save. Pink lips skimming your collarbone, dainty fingers in his hair, his own clenching and releasing your hips like spring flowers blooming in time-lapse.

"Someone's in a good mood, today," You whisper against his gentle lips, tilting his jaw to plant a peck against them before waiting for his answer.

"Hard not to be when you're treatin' me like I'm made of diamonds," He quips with a swift brush of his thumb over your cheekbone, hand sliding back and down to rest above the small of your back.

"Never seen a diamond, wouldn't know what to do with one," You shoot back playfully, reminding him that you have no use for material items, however valuable. 

"Well, I wouldn't know what to do without my diamond," He says, referring to you, bumping noses and laying a chaste peck against your grinning lips.

These moments - between your gruelling jobs and worse nights, the ones where you wake up sweaty and tear-sodden and disoriented - these moments are all you have to live for. The notion that he might not have you some day is a scary one, especially because you fear how much you need each other.

"We've talked about what would happen if we got separated. We have a plan, in case something happens to me-" You remind him gently before he lays a forefinger across your lips and you resist the urge to nip at it.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, honey. Nothing, I swear," He promises solemnly, honeyed gaze severe under the weekend afternoon sunshine illuminating your otherwise gray apartment. For now, just now, you push away the niggling thought of if something could happen to him, and pick up the notebook that holds the secrets he doesn't yet want to burden you with. You watch him spill the ink left over from the cruel tattoos on his mind into those yellowing pages. Watch him free his past as you try not to worry about your future.

Taglist: @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @geeksareunique​

[splat-dragon]

“We can spend another week at the ranch.”

 Naturally, Homer nearly overturned their car but, as it always seemed to be, it was a nearly, and they raced back to the ranch which, really, they weren’t too sure how welcome they’d be at.

They drove, and they drove, and they drove. The car was filled with mindless chatter - Bart was excited to see Clara again, Marge was looking forward to swapping recipes with Cookie, Lisa was nervous to see Luke after nearly getting his sister killed, and Homer wanted to try his luck with the beavers again.

 But… they hadn’t driven this far, had they? They’d only been an hour gone from the ranch, if that, and was it really 6:47? They’d left from the ranch at 4:21…

 “Homer?” Marge’s eyes went to the clock on the dashboard, eyes going wide when she noticed the time, “I think you missed a turn…”

 Homer looked around, clenching his fingers on the wheel - where had the fences gone? “Nonsense Marge! I’m taking the scenic route!”

 “Dad?” Lisa looked around - were those pronghorn? but they were there and gone before she could say anything, skittering away in alarm - “I think we’re lost…”

 “I’m hungry,” Bart whined, holding his stomach.

 and then it was 7:14, and where had the time gone? They didn’t remember saying anything, didn’t remember the grass turning to trees, but suddenly Homer had to slam on the brake to keep from crashing into the biggest fucking deer he’d ever seen (“ELK!” Lisa screamed), the car swerving from side to side before crashing into a massive tree.

“Is everyone okay?” Marge twisted to look at her kids as Maggie began to wail, Bart and Lisa wide-eyed and holding their arms out in front of her to keep her from being thrown even as they said “I’m okay mom!” at the same time.

 Homer groaned from where his face had been smashed into the wheel, sitting back and rubbing at his nose. “‘m hurt, I’m very hurt!” Marge leaned over and rubbed his nose, the man groaning and whining and generally making a fuss over himself,

 “Oh, it’s just a bloody nose Homie, it’ll be fine.”

They piled out of the car, Marge swaying and cooing over Maggie until she stopped bawling, though still she whimpered and sniffled, wiping at her tears and snotty nose with her dress.

 The car looked totaled - the front was crumpled clear to the dashboard, and it looked a miracle that Marge and Homer hadn’t been grievously hurt. It smoked, and so they hurried to unload their things from it, setting them in a heap off on the other side of the road just in case.

 “Dad… what’re we gonna do?” Lisa whimpered - they were out in the middle of nowhere, thoroughly lost, surrounded by trees to the point that they couldn’t tell where the sun was coming from, no idea which way to walk, their car near to bursting into flames, and it was close to nightfall.

 “It’s okay Leese,” Bart patted her shoulder, “The wolves’ll eat you before you can starve!”

 “Bart!”

 “What?” he grinned, “it’s true!” but then he saw the tears starting to well up in Lisa’s eyes and sighed, grabbing her hand. And if it settled him some… well, no one needed to know. “Hey Leese… you’re gonna outlive all of us, you can eat the grass and the leaves.”

 Despite herself, she giggled, reaching up to rub her eyes.

“Alright kids,” Marge got their attention, holding up some blankets that she’d dug out from their luggage, “we’re going to be spending the night out here it seems, so let’s make the best of it! We’re going to be having a camp out!”

 Homer, naturally, was trying (and, of course, failing) to make a campfire.

 The kids grabbed a blanket apiece and curled up around the sticks that had yet to so much as spark or smoke, shivering already and dreading the night’s cold that hadn’t yet even set in. And then—

 —Lisa gasped.

 “Lisa? What’s wrong?” Marge’s grip tightened on Maggie, the baby’s arms flailing, and she looked around frantically.

 “The trees! If Bart climbs the trees he could see where we need to go!” and Marge shook her head,

 “Absolutely not! He’ll break his neck!” before looking at Homer, “Homer, I’ll set the fire, you climb the tree!”

Homer twisted his ankle falling out of the tree, and Bart scarpered up without a problem. “Oh be careful!” Marge called up, while Lisa yelled after him “What do you see?”

 “Trees!” he yelled down, clinging to the trembling tree, “trees, trees, more trees… and trees! Oh, and a cliff!”

 As one, aside from Bart, the family sighed. “Alright Bart, come down - carefully!” before

 “Wait, I see someone! There’s a road that way!” he pointed a bit of a distance off and began to scurry down the tree, jumping down into Homer’s arms and then they were running, hurrying to catch the person, and they barely made it.

It could barely be called a road; then again, the one they’d been on before had been exactly the same. It was dirt, more dust than that, heavily overgrown aside from two ruts dug into the ground. And it wasn’t just a person either - not some person walking down the path, and not someone driving, either.

 They thought they must, surely, have wandered back to the Lazy-I-Ranch, or something similar. Because why else would a woman be driving a pair of horses (and an odd pair at that!) to pull a wagon? And she looked the part, too, denim pants and vest and a cowboy sort of hat.

 “HEY!”

 “Wait!”

 “Hello!”

 “STOP!”

 Maggie whimpered.

 Homer found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, and they all froze. The woman stared from Homer, to Marge, then to Maggie to Lisa to Bart, wolf-green eyes hard, “What.”

 Homer whimpered, and proceeded to piss his pants.

 “Please, we don’t want no trouble.” Marge brought her free hand up appeasingly, and the kids followed her example, Homer doing the same after a long moment, “We’re lost… my husband crashed our car, can you help us?”

 For a long moment, the woman didn’t say anything. Until finally she looked again at the kids, lowering the gun though still she kept it in her lap, “Where to?”

 “The Lazy-I-Ranch, we were there a few hours ago and we were going to go back, but we must have taken a wrong turn.”

 The woman frowned, tilted her head like a confused dog, “Never heard of it ma’am.” she sounded oddly suspicious, hand tightening on the gun.

 “What?” Bart blurted out, while Lisa came out with, “But we were just there!”

 The woman’s eyes darted to them, “I know this area like the back of my hand, and there ain’t never been a ‘Lazy-I-Ranch.’ I don’t know what trick you’re pullin’, but I don’t appreciate it.”

 Homer whimpered.

 Marge rushed to soothe the woman’s raised hackles, “We’re not trying to pull any tricks. Please, if you know the area, can you take us to the nearest town? Our luggage is just back here.” she took a deep breath, a moment to hitch Maggie up higher on her hip, “Please, I just want to get a roof over their heads for the night.”

 The woman looked them over - her eyes lingered on Homer’s piss-stain, on Maggie’s tear-tracks and the redness of Lisa and Bart’s eyes, before finally she nodded. She swung down from the wagon, boots thudding in the dirt, and walked around to grab the harness of the rightmost horse, a bulky, fat, grey beast, and began to pick her way through the brush, leading them carefully to keep the wagon from catching on the plants and stones.

Their car was gone.

 Their car was gone.

 Their luggage, thank god, was still where they’d left it, but their car, their one ton car, was gone.

 The woman didn’t react other than to raise an eyebrow at the crumpled tree, looking around for the crashed car, as they gaped at where it should have been. But she didn’t say a word, instead led the horses a bit down the road in the direction they’d been going so they wouldn’t have to carry the luggage far, and—

 —“Oh my god!”

 They spun around, the woman with a snarl on her lips and the gun half-drawn, only to stare at Lisa in confusion (the Simpsons in frustrated understanding) as she covered her mouth in disgust, finding herself face to face with the glazed-over eyes of a puma. Looking at the cart closely for the first time, she found it was layered in pelts, the puma’s carcass thrown in it half-hazardly. Marge looked at the woman and then Lisa, hissing “Lisa!” and Lisa knew better - it disgusted her, the casual disregard of life horrified her, but they needed this woman’s favor and so she said, “I just… wasn’t expecting that. Sorry.” and the woman nodded, stooping down to grab one of their suitcases and pitching it into the back of the wagon.

Some half an hour later, and they were done packing the wagon. The woman sighed, taking another look around before setting the gun on the ground, leaning it against the cart and taking a moment to stretch, before tugging free a pelt and tossing it so it sprawled across the front seat of the wagon. They’d tried starting up a few conversations with her but she’d not done much to carry them so finally they’d ended up working in silence.

 “Up you get,” the woman grunted, stooping down and cupping her hands to boost first Lisa, then Bart into the back, Lisa hurrying to clamber onto one of the suitcases, trying her best not to touch any of the furs, while Bart sat cross legged on what he was pretty sure was a wolf pelt (‘cool!’) , before helping Marge up as well, grabbing Homer by the elbow before he could follow, wrinkling her nose at the acrid smell of urine on him. “In the front seat.”

 She stretched the pelt across the seat before boosting him up with a strained grunt, walking around and grabbing her gun on the way, stopping to scratch the leftmost horse, a mouse-colored beast of the same breed as the other, before swinging up easy-as-that and clicking her tongue, the horses beginning to trot down the road.

After a few minutes, Lisa spoke up, “Miss?” and waited for the woman to grunt an acknowledgement, “Where are you taking us to?”

 “Valentine,” the woman said, guiding the horses to take a left at a fork in the road, “It’s about an hour’s ride from here.”

[ladylillianrose]

The Best Laid Plans a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

Summary: 5 times Max tries to propose to Zoey and one successful proposal

A/N: So this idea popped into my head the other day, and since I had trouble sleeping last night....tada!! I hope you all enjoy this fluff!

AO3

I.

Max had it all planned out, a nice early dinner, a romantic walk along the beach to watch the sunset, and then he would ask her to marry him.

He had continuously checked the weather report, making sure that everything would be perfect. Sunny and 73 degrees, can't get much better than that. 

Max had the ring in his pocket, it had been hidden away in his drawer for the past three years. Once he realized that he was no other woman for him than Zoey, he'd asked his mom for his grandmother's ring. It had been waiting there for the perfect moment, and today it was finally here.

Max had been nervous all day at work, unable to focus on any task at hand. What if she said no? She wouldn't...would she? No, he was certain that she would say yes.

He got home before she did, thankful to have a moment to calm himself down.

He opened the ring box and looked at it, imagining it on Zoey's finger. He smiled, a sense of calm washing over him.

"Babe? Are you in here?" he heard Zoey call out.

Shit! He quickly placed the box in his pocket, before heading out to greet her.

"Hello, love," Max smiled, pulling her in for a kiss.

"Mmm, hello to you too," Zoey grinned. She tried to deepen the kiss but Max reluctantly moved away.

"Come on, we've got to get ready."

"Wouldn't you rather stay in tonight? I can make it worth your while," she teasingly ran her fingers along his buttons. 

Max counted to ten silently, attempting to steady himself. "You can make it worth my while, after dinner," he said, grabbing her hands before they slipped any lower.

Zoey pouted, "Fine….I guess I'll go get ready." She threw an extra sway in her hips as she walked into the bedroom to get ready.

Max breathed a sigh of relief and checked the weather again. Still sunny and warm, so far so good.

Dinner went by in a blur, Max was so nervous he couldn't even tell you what they ate. He spent most of the dinner checking his pocket obsessively to make sure the ring was still there.

As they left the restaurant, Max suggested they take a walk along the beach, hoping she wasn't becoming suspicious of his plan.

Zoey smiled, as she leaned on his shoulder, "That sounds lovely."

They made their way down to the beach, stopping to leave their shoes on a nearby rock.

As they walked hand in hand Zoey told him about the latest hijinks at work.

"Can you believe that Tobin actually got his ferret certified as an emotional support animal? She looks adorable in her little vest, riding around on his shoulder. Good thing Joan is too busy running the company to notice!" Zoey laughed.

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to her. He missed working at SPRQ Point, sometimes. But he found his true calling in helping out schools and libraries with their STEAM programs for kids. He was a natural teacher, his job allowed his creativity to flow and the children all adored him.

A cool wind picked up as the sun disappeared behind a cloud. Max glanced up and frowned, those were some very dark clouds overhead. Then he felt the first drops of rain beginning. 

"Maybe we should head back," Zoey suggested.

"It's only a few drops. It's not that bad," Max replied, determined to not let a few raindrops spoil his proposal.

As if the heavens had decided to mock him, the rain began pouring down suddenly.  

Max rolled his eyes at the sky and grabbed Zoey's hand. They raced back to where their shoes were and jumped into Max's car.

"Well, so much for romantic walks in the rain," Zoey quipped.

"Yeah, I don't think they mean this kind of rain," Max dryly replied.

Zoey leaned over to kiss him. "Well, it was still a lovely time. We'll go walk along the beach another day."

Max sighed and nodded as he started the car. He could feel the ring burning a hole in his pocket, he needed to come up with a new plan, and soon.

II.

After the rain fiasco, Max determined that keeping the proposal inside was a much safer option. He decided to surprise Zoey with a trip to the California Academy of Sciences. She loved going there when she was younger and had talked about going back when they had the time.

"Oh Max, let's go to the Planetarium next!" She said excitedly holding the map. He nodded and grinned at her eagerness, and they grabbed a spot line to wait for the next show to begin. Max glanced at his watch, 15 minutes till the show started, plenty of time.

He took a deep breath, "Zoey, there's something I've been…"

"Oh my gosh, Max look!" Zoey pointed at something in front of them.

Max turned to see a couple standing in front of the Planetarium, the man was down on one knee and holding out a box to the woman. A small crowd had gathered to watch the events unfold.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" They heard the woman shriek in excitement.

Everyone burst into applause, except Max who stood there looking gobsmacked. "You have got to be kidding me," he mumbled, annoyed.

"That was so sweet," Zoey smiled at him.

"Yeah, really romantic," Max tried to keep his voice light.

"It was. So, what did you want to ask me?" Zoey said looking at him.

"Oh umm...I was thinking I might want to grow a beard and was wondering what your opinion was," he replied.

"You wanted to ask me if you should grow a beard or not?" Zoey looked at him puzzled. Max nodded, hoping she bought the lie.

"I mean, I hadn't really thought about it before, but yeah why not. I think it could be a good look."

"You do?" He asked in surprise. 

"Oh yes, not like a full mountain man of course. But a little scruff could be very sexy," she smirked, running her hand along his smooth face. 

"Well, then I'm glad I asked that important question," Max replied.

Zoey looked at him oddly and shrugged her shoulders, reading the program about what they would be seeing.

Max rolled his eyes at himself.  Really a beard? That was the "important question?" There wasn't anything better you could have made up? Stupid couple ruining his plan, stealing his proposal idea. 

The happy couple walked by them, "Congratulations!" Zoey called out.

"Wasn't it just so romantic?" The woman sighed, smiling at her fiance. 

"It certainly was. Wasn't it, babe?" Zoey smiled at him.

"Oh yes, very romantic,” Max smiled tightly at them.

"Ooo, come on, the shows starting, " Zoey looped her arm through his and bid the couple farewell.

As Zoey enjoyed the show, Max began formulating a new plan, this one would leave nothing to chance.

III.

"No, I don't want to do the ring in her drink or food. I'll just give you guys the signal and then the violinist can come to the table and I'll propose then. It needs to be at the beginning of the meal….yes I know most couples wait until the end, but I'm not taking a chance with this. Yes, okay, thank you." Max hung up the phone, relieved that all the details were fixed with the restaurant. He and Zoey would go out to dinner, order their food and then Max would propose with the restaurant's violinist played nearby. It was the perfect plan.

Later That Evening

*sirens*

"How crazy is this?" Zoey said, huddled next to Max as they stood outside the restaurant.

"It's crazy alright," Max shook his head in disbelief.

"It's lucky no one was hurt in the fire," She replied. 

"Except the violinist's violin and the waiter's pride," Max reminded her.

"Well honestly, the violinist shouldn't have placed himself there. Maybe then the waiter wouldn't have tripped over him knocking over all those candles. I wonder why he was standing so close to the table near us," Zoey rambled. 

"Who knows, maybe someone had asked him to play nearby, " Max shrugged.

"Hmm, maybe. Well, I'm starving since we didn't get to eat. I think I saw a taco truck down the way," Zoey smiled at Max.

"Sure, tacos sound good."

"Come on, last one there is buying!" Zoey teased racing ahead of him.

Max chuckled, as he chased after her. He needed to stop trying to plan the perfect proposal. He would just carry the ring with him and ask her when the moment was right.

IV.

The park was crowded, though it always seemed to be that way for the summer concerts. Max and Zoey had forgotten about them when they had made plans to take a walk in the park.

At least the paths were clear, everyone was crowding over at the lawn to find a seat before the show started. 

They strolled hand in hand along the pond, quietly enjoying the way the water reflected the sun.

Zoey sighed and smiled as she looked at Max. "It's so peaceful here," she said. "As though we were the only two people here."

Max grinned, this was it, this was the moment. Palming the ring box, he knelt on one knee behind her.

"Zoey…"

"YO, ZO-DOG!" They heard a voice yell.

Zoey turned and saw Tobin walking towards them. Was that Abigail with him?

"Hey!" Zoey grinned and waved at the couple as they approached. 

Abigail smiled at Zoey as she leaned in for a hug.

"Hey bro, trouble with your shoe?" Tobin asked, looking down at Max who was still kneeling on the ground.

"Ummm yeah, just needed to tie it. All good now " Max replied. He slipped the box back in his pocket, before standing up.

"What are you guys doing here? I didn't even know you were seeing each other," Zoey commented.

"Oh yeah, we just started hanging out, outside of work and we just clicked. We're keeping it on the DL for now, but of course, you guys know all about that," Tobin tossed them a knowing wink.

"What? No, we weren't a thing when we worked together," Zoey sputtered as she blushed. 

"Sure, whatever. Anyway, we were coming to check out the concert, but it's some lame dad rock cover band so we decided to ditch. Figured we could go grab some burgers instead," Tobin replied.

"Ooo, burgers sound good right about now. You mind if we tag along?" Zoey asked. She turned and silently asked Max if that was okay with him and he nodded.

Abigail grinned and signed, 'Of course not. The more the merrier!' She looped her arm through Zoey's and they started to make their way out of the park.

"You okay, bro? You seem a little tense," Tobin looked at over at Max.

"Nope, fine. Everything is just fine," Max ground out.

"Well, come on then!" Tobin ran excitedly ahead to catch up with the girls.

Max shook his head, he was beginning to feel like the universe had it out for him. He sighed and went to catch up with the group. Maybe a public proposal wasn't the way to go, too many things could go wrong or interfere. A more private proposal, just the two of them at home, that was the ticket.

V.

It was movie night, they had maintained the tradition even after they started dating. Though once they became a couple there were a few times they had to rewatch the movies because they got too distracted during them.

It was Max's turn to pick and he had decided on,  Big Trouble In Little China . He got everything set up, making sure the popcorn and wine were ready, so they could start as soon as Zoey got home. She'd been working long hours this week, she deserved to have a night where she could just kick back and relax.

Zoey came wearily trudging through the door and dropped her purse, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Welcome home, love," Max greeted her with a kiss.

"Mmmmm," she replied.

"Go put on your comfy clothes and then come sit on the couch. I've got everything ready, so you can take it easy," he told her.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," she smiled at him. Slowly she stumbled to their bedroom to change. 

Max put away her purse and keys and poured her a glass of wine.

She emerged in her PJs and Max led her over to the couch. She snuggled up next to him and took a sip of her wine.

Max hit play and they started the movie.

Zoey was enjoying the film, it was ridiculous and totally 80's, but it was the kind of fun she needed after the week she had.

She glanced over at Max and grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"What was that for?" He smiled at her.

"Because I can," she replied, reaching for more popcorn only to find an empty bowl. 

"I'll go make more," Max said standing up.

"You don't have to," Zoey protested.

"I want to," Max replied, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Just relax, I'll be right back."

Max threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, as he watched Zoey from the corner of his eye. She was leaning on her hand against the armrest, totally absorbed in the film.

He smiled, this was everything he wanted in life, right here at home. It dawned on him that this was the perfect opportunity. He raced into the bedroom and retrieved the ring from his drawer. 

He walked back out just as the microwave dinged. He poured the popcorn into the bowl and made his way back to the sofa.

He set the popcorn on the table and knelt on the floor next to Zoey's side of the sofa. 

"Zoey, there's something I wanted to ask you," he started.

Zoey let out a small snore, causing Max to look up in surprise. She had fallen asleep…. Max shook his head and chuckled to himself. Poor Zoey, she was more tired than she had let on.

He set the box down and scooped her into his arms.

"I was watching that," she sleepily protested, snuggling against him.

"With your eyes closed?" Max teasingly asked.

"Hear better that way," came the mumbled reply.

"Mmhmm, and the snores?"

"I don't snore!"

"No, you're right, my mistake. Must have been someone else snoring."

"Hmph," Zoey responded.

Max gently placed her in their bed and tucked her in. "I love you, Zoey."

"I love you too, Max," she sleepily replied.

Max smiled and headed out to put away everything. He picked up the ring box and sighed, someday he'd get the chance to ask her, and it would be absolutely perfect. 

+ 1

Zoey jiggled her leg nervously under the table where they sat.

"Zoey, are you okay? You look pale..er than usual," Max asked her.

"No, I'm fine. I'm actually really happy*," Zoey replied grinning at him.

"Oooookay," Max said looking at her oddly.

Mo had invited them to hear him perform at a local bar's open mic night, so they went to support him.

"When do you think Mo is on?" Max asked.

"Mmm, I don't know. Oh, look here he comes," Zoey pointed to the stage.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Mo, but I am not the one who will be dazzling you tonight with my voice."

Max looked at Zoey confused, and she shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Instead, my good friend, Zoey Clarke, has a very special performance for you all," Mo grinned and gestured for Zoey to come up.

Max stared at her as she stood up and tossed a wink at him as she made her way to the stage. Mo handed her the microphone, "Thank you Mo. Hello everyone, I'm Zoey Clarke, and Max, this one's for you."

Zoey blew Max a kiss and began to sing.

I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

You treat me like I'm a princess

I'm not used to liking that

You ask how my day was

You've already won me over in spite of me

And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You're so much braver than I gave you credit for

That's not lip service

You've already won me over in spite of me

And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

Max watched, stunned as Zoey sang to him. She began to make her way off the stage still singing, as she walked towards him.

You're the best listener that I've ever met

You're my best friend

Best friend with benefits

What took me so long

I've never felt this healthy before

I've never wanted something rational

I am aware now

I am aware now

You've already won me over in spite of me

And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

The music stopped as Zoey stood in front of him smiling. She slowly lowered herself to one knee. "Max Richman, you are the love of my life, my best friend, and I can't imagine spending another moment without you by my side. Will you marry me?" 

Max slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. "That was supposed to be my line," he grinned. "Yes, Zoey Clarke, I'll marry you!"

Max pulled her up, slipping the ring on her finger before capturing her lips with his.

Around them, everyone in the bar cheered and congratulated them.

They pulled apart flushing and breathless. 

"I guess the universe was trying to tell me something after all," Max grinned. 

Zoey looked at him confused.

"I'll tell you later."

"I'm just glad everything went smoothly. You have no idea how worried I was that something would go wrong or ruin it!" Zoey told him.

"No, you're right, I haven't a clue how that feels," he laughed and pulled her into another kiss. 

A/N: Song is "Head Over Feet" by Alanis Morissette (Listen to it here https://youtu.be/4iuO49jbovg)

*Episode 1x07

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 23

Word Count: 3701

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: Sorry this wasn’t posted earlier. I now have internet back and hopefully it won’t go down again. As always feedback is appreciated. Peace, Love and Hugs all!!!

The whole engagement and party afterward, was everything that you could’ve dreamed of. Tyler had literally made it the most magical moment of your life. You still couldn’t believe everything that he had done, not to mention everything that you’d put him through. Thankfully, both yours and Tyler’s family were staying a few days so you’d have plenty of time to visit with them after the party.

 It was about two in the morning when you finally looked at Tyler and declared you were exhausted. Your feet hurt from dancing and were starting to swell, so when you sank down into the seat of the Ferrari, you slipped off your heels, with a sigh of relief. “Tired baby?”

 “A little, but it’s a good tired. If you know what I mean?” You answered your now fiancé.

 He grabbed your left hand, which was now clad with your beautiful diamond ring; and ran his thumb and index finger around it. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

 “You know, I don’t think I told you how gorgeous my ring is, but I think you went a bit overboard with it.” If you were telling the truth, you were half scared to wear it, for what if you lost it.

 “Nah, I think it’s perfect; just like the woman who’s wearing it.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. It was hard not to blush at his words, even in the darkness.

 “Well not to steal your words, but the guy who got it for me is pretty perfect himself. So much so, I decided to marry him.”

 “He’s one lucky guy that’s for sure.”

 “Mmmm…he’s about to get a little bit luckier when we get home.” You sent him a wink when he looked over at you.

 “I thought you were tired?”

 “Well there’s tired and then there’s I just got engaged and I totally want to make love to my fiancé.” He kept his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t miss the smirk on his face, as you felt the car speed up. “Tyler Seguin! Slow down. You’re carrying precious cargo you know.”

 “Oops, I didn’t even realize.” You just laughed at him and shook your head. “Sorry babe.”

 Even though he slowed down to the speed limit, it seemed like no time that you were pulling into the garage of your home. Tyler came around to help you out of the car, as you tried to put your heels back on. There was no use, your feet were too swollen, so you just got out barefoot. “Still want to marry me, now that I’m barefoot and pregnant.” He wrapped you in his arms immediately.

 “Mmm, I think I want to marry you even more.” Reaching up you kissed him, as your arms entwined around his neck; heels forgotten. His tongue slipped into your mouth, as your body molded to his. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that the two of you were making out in your garage and giggle slightly into the kiss. Tyler pulled back. “Wow…I didn’t think that kiss was funny.”

 “I’m sorry, it’s just we’re in the garage; dressed like this.” You gestured at your gown and his suit. “And we’re literally making out like our parents are going to catch us and we’re not engaged.”

 He laughed with you, at the absurdity of the situation. “Ok, you’re right. It’s not like we don’t have a bed.” With that, he picked you up and carried you inside.

 “Ty, you don’t have to carry me.” It felt like something you said more and more.

 “You have no shoes on, of course, I have to carry you.” Instead of arguing, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head on his shoulder. The dogs were at the door as soon as you walked in. “Shit, I forgot about these guys.” They were jumping around, probably anxious to go outside.

 “Put me down and we can let them out.”

 “Nah” He started walking over to the back door. “Ok, now you open it.”

 “You’re kidding right?”

 “Nope.” Hooking your one arm a little tighter around Tyler’s neck, you wiggled over and opened the door; the dogs headed outside immediately. He started walking you both over to the bedroom, where he laid you gently down on the mattress. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

 As he walked out of the room, he loosened his tie and started to unbutton his vest. His time away gave you a chance to admire your engagement ring again. It fit perfectly, yet part of you felt like you should take it off to sleep; for you’d probably end up knocking Tyler out if you hit him with it in the middle of the night, because the diamond was so huge. You were sliding it up and down your finger, trying to decide when Tyler came back in. “You better not be having second thoughts.”

 His tie was loose around his neck, while his shirt was untucked and unbuttoned as well; jacket and vest already removed as he tossed them on the bench at the end of the bed. “Never! I was just debating whether I should sleep with it on or not.”

 “Well let me answer that for you. Leave it on.”  He no sooner said those words then his body was looming over yours. “Now where were we in the garage?”

 You looped your arms around his neck and brought his mouth close to yours. “I believe we were right about here.” With that, you touched your lips to his. He shifted his weight onto his side, his hand skimming down your dress to your hip; so he could roll you into him.

 “Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” He murmured into your ear, as he nibbled his way down your neck. The hand that was on your hip traveled up the back of your dress, where he began unzipping it.

 A moan escaped your lips before you could say. “You may have mentioned it a few times.” He slid the left strap of the dress off your shoulder, exposing your breast; his mouth leaving a trail of fiery kisses down to your taut nipple. His lips encircled the peak and gasp, hips thrusting involuntarily. His hand reached back down to settle your hips, as his leg attempting to wedge between yours; only to impeded by layers of tulle.

“Babe, as gorgeous as I think you are; I need this dress gone.” Laughter bubbles up in your throat at his impatience. The gown was absolutely stunning but there were way too many layers of fabric separating the two of you at the moment.

 He still had his hand locked on your hip, so you couldn’t move. You kissed him quickly on the mouth before saying. “Mmmm…then you’re gonna have to let me go because I need to stand up to get this thing off.” He reluctantly released you and you rolled away from him so you could swing your legs off the bed. You sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed some of the pins from your hair to let your long locks cascade down your back. As you glanced over your shoulder, you let the other strap fall off your right shoulder; while you winked at Tyler. You then stood up and the whole dress slid down to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Stepping out of the gown, you picked it up and made a move to go hang it up.

 “Babe…the bed is this way.”

 “I just want to hang this up before it gets wrinkled.” You continued to walk to the closet when you felt Tyler’s arms around you and you squealed.

 He plucked the dress from your fingertips and then laid it on the bench with his suit jacket. “This can wait. I can’t.” He twirled you around as he kissed you senseless until the back of your knees bumped the bed. Reaching up you glided his shirt off him and let your hands roam all over his chest. He gently pressed you down into the mattress, never breaking the kiss. His hand skimmed down your body, as he pressed his thigh into your core. You found yourself grinding down on him, as pleasure coursed through your body.

 “Tyler…please.” The friction the two of you were creating was good, but you wanted, no you needed more.

 “I know what you need babe.” His hand glided down and inside your panties, were his thumb drew circles on your clit, moving faster as your hips rocked against him. He sank two fingers inside your wet pussy, pumping them in and out. A guttural moan left your lips and you called out his name as an orgasm rocked your body. Your body felt on fire, as he milked the orgasm from you. You’d never climaxed so quickly before, yet here you were literally shaking just moments after Tyler touched you.

 As you came off your high, Tyler worked his way back up your body. He smeared your cum across your lips then kissed you, the mixture of your own taste and Tyler making your body tingle. You started to unbuckle his belt, undid the zipper to his pants; while he pushed your panties down. Once both of you were naked, you squirmed your way up the bed, Tyler stalking you the whole way; kissing you all over your body.

 “Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful.” Cupping his face, you brought his mouth to yours and kissed him deeply. You spread your legs and run your hands down his chest, where you reached for his cock. Your left hand, diamond and all, encircling his member. He looked down; his cock growing even harder. “That right there is so fucking sexy.” You stroked him and he sucked in a breath, as his hips flexed in your palm. Gliding your hand up and down his length, you felt yourself get wetter in anticipation of what was to come. “(Y/N), I need to be inside you, babe.”

 He placed his hand over the top of yours and guided himself to your entrance; where he rubbed the head of his dick against your wetness. Both of you released him, as he slid about an inch of himself into your pussy. Tyler took your left hand and laced your fingers together, then brought them to his mouth for a kiss as he sunk the rest of the way into you. You arched your back instinctively, pushing him deeper inside you. “Fuck Ty, you feel so good.” He started to thrust in and out of you, building up a slow steady rhythm. He ground his hips down into you and his pubic bone hit your clit, causing you to moan out in pleasure.

 “God you feel so good, baby.” He breathed out. “I can’t believe your mine.” His face was inches from yours, and you both had your eyes locked on one another.

 “I love you…so much.” He started to thrust faster, and you wrapped a leg around his waist; changing the angle so he was not hitting your g-spot. You were so close now. You could feel your second orgasm building. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

 “Oh god.” He growls out as his thrusts became erratic. “I love you (Y/N).” You were both panting now, sweat covering both of your bodies; and as he pulls out and pumps into you one last time, you both start to spiral out of control. Your pussy convulses around him and you can feel his hot cum filling you up. With a few last grunts he collapses rolling to the side and taking you with him, so he’s still inside you. You’re both breathing harshly, as you rested your forehead against Tyler’s.

 Time seemed to stand still, as the two of you just laid there smiling at each other, both of you exhausted yet too happy to let sleep take you. As your hand lay on his chest, you finally spoke. “Thank you.”

 He looked at you a little curiously before saying. “Babe, you don’t need to thank me for sex.”

 A giggle escaped you. “I wasn’t thanking you for that.” When he frowned, you added. “Though it was amazing.” Of course, he smiled at that comment. “I was thanking you for everything you did for me today. You literally made all my dreams come true.”

 “Well, you saying yes made mine come true.”

 Though you’d smiled for hours, as you received all the congratulations from friends and family; you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face when you thought of becoming Tyler’s wife. “I can’t believe we’re engaged.”

 “Believe it, baby, cause I’m never letting you go.”

 His hand now covered yours, and he was idly playing with your engagement ring. “Well, I’m not letting you go either, mister.” Your lips touched his in a quick peck. “I love you, Tyler Seguin.”

 “I love you more (Y/FN). Now go to sleep, you’ve got a wedding to plan.” With that, he kissed you and gathered you closer in his arms, and you both fell asleep.

 The next couple of days were spent with both yours and Tyler’s family, which was nice since the party didn’t allow you to have as much time with them as you’d like. Tyler’s family stayed a couple days longer than yours did, so you were all able to go cheer him on during his game versus the Sharks. The house was eerily quiet the following day, as everyone flew back to Toronto and Tyler left for a seven-day road trip, though the time seemed to fly by as you prepared for Christmas. The designer did most of the decorating in and outside of the house, though there were still presents to be bought and cookies to bake; not to mention you still took some time to check new organizations for Tyler to support. Which meant you needed to get back on social media.

 It had been several months since you’d even looked at your Instagram account or Tyler’s for that matter. You tried to concentrate on looking at only the organizations you were interested in, but eventually, your curiosity got the better of you. When you looked at Tyler’s account everything posted was about the Stars and that was it. Of course, you didn’t know if he had storied anything but you figured he hadn’t or he would’ve told you. You were so focused on Tyler’s account you didn’t even see you had a bunch of notifications where you had been mentioned in other people’s posts. They were mostly wives and girlfriends of Star players, but there were also a few NHL wag sites that mentioned you as well. It was those that you clicked on to see what they were saying. Most were favorable comments, some couldn’t believe you’d taken Tyler back, and still, others couldn’t believe the nerve you had to think you were good enough to be with Tyler. Shaking your head, you moved on from all the comments, as they just weren’t worth your time.

 It was then you noticed how many follow requests you had, which made no sense to you. It was literally over a few hundred people. You were flabbergasted that people thought that because you were with Tyler, your life would be well…interesting. Looking at your meager following of one hundred and eighty-six people you decided it would be safe to post a picture from your engagement since you weren’t going to accept any of your follow requests; this was a way to celebrate one of the happiest days of your life so far. Tyler had hired a professional photographer to snapshots of your whole engagement and you chose a couple that were your favorite. You posted them and then went about your day, baking a batch of cookies you were going to put in the freezer for Christmas.

 About four hours later you realized the mistake you’d made; you’d tagged Tyler in the photo. It was a text from your future husband that brought it to your attention.

 Babe, not that I don’t love that you posted our engagement pics. But you realized you tagged me right.

 Of course, I tagged you, you’re my fiancé. 

 So you wanted it to go public?

 NO! Why would it…..FUCK!!!

 Um, babe, it’s no biggie, don’t worry about it.

 You clicked open the Instagram app and then looked at the comments. Oh, fuck it was worse than you thought. You shot off a text to Tyler.

 Can you talk?

 The next thing you knew your phone was ringing. “Babe, don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

 “Ty have you read some of the comments.”

 “A couple.”

 “Oh, this one’s great. It says…Always knew she was a gold digger….She’s probably trapped him and now he’s going to be stuck with her and a baby….Oh god, I am pregnant. Do you think I trapped you?”

 “Baby, stop! You did not trap me. I wanted to marry you the moment I met you. If anything I’d probably be the one that trapped you.”

 It was just like your Tyler to take on everything himself. “How is that even possible?”

 “If you remember correctly, I was the one that insisted we not use condoms.”

 “Oh my god. That was months ago, and I remember agreeing to it wholeheartedly.” It really didn’t take much to convince you; you hated them as much as he did, and since you were on the pill, you both thought things would be fine. Though here you were well over halfway through your pregnancy.

 “I was still the one who brought it up.” You went to interject, but he continued. “But babe, forget all that. Our baby is the best thing that ever happened to either one of us.” Tyler was right of course. “If you hadn’t been pregnant, you would’ve never given me another chance; and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my life (Y/N). So fuck anyone else who can’t see that.”

 “I love you for saying that, but it doesn’t solve the major screwup I just did.”

 “I really don’t care what anyone says, but if it makes you feel better, turn off the comments on the post.” Why the hell hadn’t you thought of that? You could only blame the stupidity of the whole incident on pregnancy brain, apparently, it was a real thing. “And don’t kill me here, but I’m going to post a few photos myself.”

 “But…”

 “No buts hun. I’ll turn off the comments as well. I want the world to know that we’re together and nothing is going to separate us.” Just when you thought your love for him couldn’t grow anymore, he went and said things like this to you. “Now, I’ve gotta run, the bus is probably downstairs ready to go to the arena. I’ll talk to you tonight after the game.”

 “Ok. Sorry for my gigantic fuck up. I love you, babe.”

 “I love you too, and I’ll love you even more if you made sure my favorite Christmas cookies are there when I come home.”

 How did he always know when you baked, even though he was on the road? “Hmmm, you might get lucky there.”

 “And maybe other places too.” You just laughed at him. “Ok getting on the bus now, love you, babe. Talk to you tonight.”

 “I love you too.” As soon as you hung up the phone you turned the comments off on your post. It made you feel so much better not seeing everything people said, even though there had been some truly nice things written. It wasn’t until after you got ready to watch the game with the other wags that you decided to look at Instagram again. Tyler’s post popped up on your screen first. He picked two of the same pictures you did and then another one that was more candid of the two of you dancing. The shot showed how much love the two of you shared and literally made you melt. The photographer had truly captured the intimate moment perfectly. His words were what hit you the most though.

 From the moment I met this woman, I couldn’t wait for this day. Still can’t believe she agreed to be my wife. One step closer to making all my dreams come true with you (Y/N). So lucky that I get to call you my fiancé, but will be even luckier the day I get to call you wife. I love you (Y/N)! 

 Of course, the comments were turned off, but you hit the like button immediately. Then to be a little cheeky, you slid into his direct messages and said. Engaged men are so sexy. DM me when you get back to Dallas and maybe we can hookup. You sent it with a heart and a winky face emoji. Part of you didn’t even know if he would see it since you weren’t one hundred percent sure he was looking at his messages or not.

 You’d just gotten out of the shower, after watching the Stars lose at Fanny’s house when you heard your phone make a weird noise. There was a message on Instagram from Tyler, which is why you didn’t recognize the notification sound. You opened the app to read the message. Hey hot stuff, I’d love to get with you, when I’m back in town. Shhh don’t tell my fiancé” He ended it with the same emojis you did.

 You shot him off a quick dm back. I won’t tell if you don’t sexy, as I have a fiancé too.

 Mmmm. It’ll be our little secret. He sent back to you. 

  Well, I’d love to chat longer, but my fiancé is due to call me any minute. See you when you get to Dallas hot stuff! You sent the message off smiling to yourself as the phone rang, not even two minutes later. “Hi, babe.”

 Tyler was smirking at you on Facetime. “Hi baby, talk to anyone interesting today?” You both burst out laughing. 

[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Eight

Chapter: 8/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tom let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t seem to focus and it was driving him nearly out of his mind with frustration. He’d dropped more things that day than he had for as long as he could remember; books, his phone, his keys, just about anything his fingers touched. He’d gotten lost during conversations; Luke had told him off quite spectacularly when he’d done so during the phone conference that they’d planned for weeks. And, to add insult to injury, he’d had very nearly tripped over Bobby, who’d been demanding a walk since before Tom had been fully conscious; twice. It was utterly ridiculous. But no matter what he did or how hard he’d tried, his mind kept wandering back to his phone call with Rosie the night before.

 It had been wonderful to just be able to talk with her again. To be able to share his thoughts with her and to be able to hear hers in return. To once again have a peek into the world as she saw it. It was something he’d spent so long convinced he’d never have again. Something he’d reluctantly surrendered due to his own massive stupidity and shortsightedness. These last two weeks had honestly been some of the best of his life. Just knowing that she was a part of his world again; that she wanted to be a part of it was so far beyond anything he’d dared to hope for.

 Still the unease he’d felt when she’d causally mentioned her fallout with Jules refused to be shaken. He’d only met the tall redhead a handful of times and in all of those she’d been warm and openly friendly towards him. But that had been before he’d broken her friend’s heart. And knowing just how close the two women were Tom could hardly blame Jules for hating him. He certainly would have. And knowing that because of him, even in such a roundabout way, they’d become estranged made the guilt he still carried that much harsher and harder to bear.

 His kneejerk reaction had been to fix it. To jump right in without pausing to think if he had any right to do so. To do whatever he could to make it right. But the last time he’d gone off halfcocked in such a manner it had blown up quite spectacularly in his face. And, more importantly, he’d hurt Rosie. And badly. He couldn’t do that again. He refused to.

 Tom took a deep breath and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. There was little he could do about what had happened, he knew that. They would fix it on their own and in their own time. His interfering would only serve to make things worse. And Rosie said that they’re okay now, he told himself. Just let them fix it on their own. Let it go, Hiddleston. Just let it go.

 He’d been pacing his living room nearly since he’d walked in the door half an hour previously. Bobby, sensing his master’s nervous energy, had been uncharacteristically whiny and jumpy. After nearly tripping over him, again, Tom finally decided that enough was enough. He knew that if he didn’t do something, and soon, he would surely lose what was left of his mind.

 “Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the spaniel on his head. Bobby looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I’ve got you all out of sorts haven’t I?” The spaniel barked once in answer and Tom chuckled to himself.

 He stood quickly and headed for the side door where he kept Bobby’s lead. He turned back noting with a hint of amusement that the spaniel had followed him on his quest, and held up the lead. “Walkies?”

 Bobby barked and bounced excitedly which caused Tom to laugh aloud.

 “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

                                                      —

 It had taken nearly half an hour for the pair to head out into the unseasonably chilled April afternoon; Bobby bundled in his quilted vest and Tom in his reliable, and mercifully warm, black wool coat. Door locked firmly behind him, he led Bobby down the front stairs and out the gate heading towards the main road.

 The sidewalks were relatively crowded for so early on a weekday afternoon, but Tom played it little mind. The neighborhood was a relatively quiet one and he was hardly ever bothered walking in and around it. He’d made the decision to take them both on a few warm up laps through the quiet streets of his neighborhood before heading towards the ironed gates of the nearby park. The park was only a five minute walk from the house and had been one of the reasons he’d chosen to live there in the first place. It was large and had a long, winding path that was an excellent jogging site and one he frequented as often as he could.

 An hour later saw Tom, and Bobby, making their second circuit around the leafy paved jogging path in the park. His head was markedly clearer but the heaviness that had come with it was still there. Bobby, for his part, seemed completely content. He’d kept a good pace with his master, stopping only occasionally when a particular tree or object caught his attention. A marked change from his puppyhood days where any and everything was both a potential friend and a dangerous enemy all at once. What a difference a few years made, Tom thought to himself with a breathless laugh.

 Tom began to slow as they approached an empty bench along the path. The lace of his left trainer had loosened significantly during his run and he could feel the shoe slipping with each stride he took. The last thing he wanted was for the damned thing to come off or to trip him up. Because he knew that was when a lone photographer would be certain to show and preserve the moment for posterity. Especially given the way his luck had been running as of late. Luke would just find that fucking hilarious.

 With a shake of his head, Tom propped his foot up on the bench, bending to tighten the loosened laces. His breathing was coming in harsh pants, his chest burning with the effort. God, he really was frighteningly out of shape. He’d cut back a bit on his running during the winter months; he still went as faithfully as he could every morning but not for anywhere near his usual distance, and now he was clearly paying for it. Bobby, who’s lead had been tied to the bench leg as he was oft to go ‘exploring’ if left unattended, bounced around Tom barking every so often at a passing jogger or squirrel, it didn’t much seem to matter which.  

 As he bent to his task, Tom heard rather than saw the women who had knelt beside the now jumping dog, scratching behind his ears and telling him in a soft, sweet voice just how handsome he was. The voice was strangely familiar though he couldn’t seem to place exactly why. Laces finally tied, he turned to face the woman and Bobby. Tom worked to quickly school his features into warm, but neutral politeness. He’d had far too many ‘chance’ encounters with women; mostly fans and, thankfully, mostly harmless, in the last few years to not be at least somewhat on his guard. He startled as a strangely familiar mass of red hair caught his attention.

 Surely not.

 The woman raised her head at Tom’s movement and he watched, torn between amusement and alarm, as Jules’ eyes widened in recognition. Speak of the devil, he thought with a flash of amusement. He watched as they quickly narrowed into green slits before slowly relaxing back into a carefully controlled neutrality. Jules stood staring at him, arms crossed at her chest. “Tom,” she stated, her voice a shade too even. Too controlled.

 “Jules,” he responded, his own voice as even as he could make it. He offered her a friendly smile and then, not quite knowing what else to do, he continued, “And how have you been?” As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. His words sounded flippant and dismissive even to his own ears. God only knew how she would take them. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said…

 “I honestly don’t have any desire to talk niceties with you,” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing once more at him.

 Tom felt himself flinch. Her dislike of him clearly hadn’t been exaggerated, not that he believed Rosie would have done such a thing. He let out a resigned sigh. Well there went any hope of a polite encounter. He took a deep breath to gather himself and held his hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I know you don’t like me,” he started, eyes settled on her face. “And honestly I can’t say that I blame you....”

 Jules scoffed at this, shaking her head as she cut him off. “Damn right, I don’t.” She unfolded her arms, letting them drop to her sides before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and continued to glare. She appeared not to care overmuch that they were in a public setting nor how much her voice carried. His eye darted around the surrounding path but no one at the moment seemed to be paying them any mind. “Do you honestly think that just because you smile and act like a gentleman for the fucking fans and the damned cameras means you can treat people, who for some god forsaken reason love you, like they don’t fucking matter?”

 He blinked at her stunned confusion, irritation bubbling steadily inside of him. “Now wait just a minute…”

 She reeled on him, “No,” she hissed, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest. “You are a conceited ass! You expect people to fall all over themselves if you flash them a smile. Well believe you me, I’m not buying it.” She paused, chest heaving slightly. After several moments silence she continued. “I don’t have the first idea what she sees in you. She fucking loved you. Loved you and you threw her away like she was nothing! Do you have any idea what that did to her? Do you?”

 Tom stood, motionless as she continued her tirade, each word slamming into him with the force of a blow. He’d wanted to snap back at her how unfair she was being, how she had no idea how badly doing so had hurt him as well, but knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. She was absolutely right. He had been a complete and utter bastard and nothing he could do or say would change that. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to.

 “She was a fucking mess for months,” Jules hissed. Tom’s reaction seeming to matter little in her need to lay everything out in the open. “She blamed herself, do you know that? She kept saying that if she had just kept her mouth shut then you wouldn’t have left.” She laughed coldly at that.  “God, do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch that? Jesus. It didn’t make one bit of difference what I said to her. How much I told her that it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t listen!” She paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But then she met Bryan. They weren’t perfect but she seemed to be getting better. With him. He made her smile and she was happy,” her voice softened slightly but quickly turned back into steel as her eyes caught his. “And then you just had to come waltzing back in, fucking with her head. I found her after you left, did you know that? She was devastated and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. Again. She’s my best friend and I had to watch her tear herself apart because you just had to have the last fucking say. You were gone why the fuck did you come back? She was happy.”

 Tom swallowed, his throat felt tight and for a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort. He quietly looked down at his hands before continuing, “I wanted to fix it. I wanted to apologize for what I’d done to her. For how badly I known I’d hurt her. I just thought if I could explain; let her know that it was me; it was always me and never, ever, her, that she could know that none of what happened was her fault. That she could have finally have some form of closure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.” He raised his eyes to hers, hoping she could understand. “I just wanted to make it right.”

 Jules stared at him, her eyes narrowed in unadulterated suspicion. “You’ve done a bang up job of that,” she spat. “Do you know that shortly after your little impromptu therapy session she ended things with Bryan?  He was good for her, he wanted to help her, fuck he encouraged her to talk to you, to get all of this,” she gesticulated wildly, “out so that she could finally let you go. He was there for her, cared for her, and she pushed him away. Because of you.”

 He felt his heart stutter in his chest. Rosie had mentioned in passing that she and Bryan had ended, but hadn’t elaborated on the how or the why. And he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to know. Another wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t meant to cause her any more pain or grief and yet that was all he had seemed to do. “I was wrong to do that to her,” Tom whispered, fighting to keep himself focused. “It was stupid and completely selfish of me and I own that without question. And I know there isn’t any way for me to make up for what I’ve done and the hurt I’ve caused her.”

 Tom paused again, gathering himself. “But I need to you understand that I love her. That has not changed. I’ve been an absolute and utter tit about it, but I do love her.” He looked Jules directly in her eyes, hoping she could see that he meant it. Every single word of it. “I don’t know what is happening between us now and I will not speak for her, but no matter what happens I am here and I will not go unless she asks me to. Whatever she wants between us; be it friendship or something more, I will take it and be grateful for it. She’s given me another chance, though god only knows it’s far more than I deserve, and I absolutely refuse to waste it. I’ve already wasted so many.”

 “I wish I could believe that for her sake,” Jules answered, honestly. “But I’ve seen this song and dance before, Tom. And I’ve seen just how it ends.” She paused, shaking her head and laughed humorlessly. “She can’t say no to you and I think you know that. She’ll bend herself over backwards to make you happy and that’s honestly not fair to her.” She laughed again. It resonated with concern and uncertainty. “She’s had a rough few months. Especially with how things ended with Adam. I don’t want her to throw herself into something that could just make matters worse.”

 Tom blinked at Jules in confusion. It took several moments for him to gather himself enough to speak. When he did the name fell from his lips in a near whisper. “Adam?” He lowered himself onto the bench, ignoring Bobby’s incessant barking. He’d never heard Rosie utter that name before but the way Jules spoke of him told Tom just how important he must have been. She never said... He felt an all too familiar sinking sense of dread flood through his gut.

 Jules let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle; her eyes held a look of what he thought was almost pity, but he couldn’t say with any certainty. “They were together nearly two years. Happiest I’ve seen her in the longest time. They’d talked about moving in together and she’d mentioned entertaining the idea of marriage.” She paused again, shrugging. “But he got a job in the states. And with the shop and her life here…Well…He took the promotion and they quietly ended things. She was heartbroken and honestly so was he. It took her a long time to start to bounce back. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Especially, not by you.”

 Tom opened his mouth to respond then, just as quickly, shut it. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth, vaguely aware of Jules’ stare and Bobby’s confused barking. He didn’t know what to think about anything he’d just heard, let alone what to possibly say in response. In the back of his mind, he’d always known there was a distinct possibility Rosie would find someone else; someone far better for her than he could ever hope to be. At first he had thought it might have been Bryan.

 He’d only seen the man once, in passing, and the little he’d known of him had come from Rosie herself. It had hurt, yes, but not as badly as he had always believed it would. Looking back he wondered if it was because he had sensed Rosie’s own uncertainty. She had said she cared for him but never that she’d loved him. And with that he had, unconsciously at least, known that there was still a chance. A remotely possibility. But Adam…Adam seemed something else entirely. And Tom found that being faced with the reality that she had found someone rather than simply the idea of it, another matter entirely.

 He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I don’t want to see her hurt again either,” he whispered, honestly. “I truly, truly don’t. I understand your concern and I know just how important she is to you. And you are to her.” He paused, looking Jules directly in the eyes. “I know my track record is far, far less than impressive, but I meant what I said. I love her. She means the world to me and I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t.” He closed his eyes and took another short, calming breath, “I don’t know what the future holds or even if there is one for us, but I won’t walk away again. Not unless she tells me to and even then I’m not entirely sure that I could. I love her and right now, just having her as a friend is enough.”

 Jules studied him quizzically, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms once again at her chest. “And when it’s not?” Her words were pointed, direct. Tom felt his heart plummet at them. He hadn’t let himself think anything beyond the fact that Rosie had let him back into her life. And how grateful he had been for it. That had been enough. But now the idea was there, he wasn’t sure he could let it be. Flashing Tom a knowing smile and a quirked eyebrow, Jules dropped to scratch Bobby’s ear once more and walked away.

 With her words echoing through his head, Tom dropped himself silently back onto the bench. He loved Rosie, loved her deeply. That was one thing in which he was completely and utterly sure. She had loved him, at one point, and possibly still did despite everything that had happened. But he couldn’t know for sure. There was a history between them, as messy and convoluted as it was. What was less certain, however, was their future. She wanted his friendship, wanted him in her life. And he was happy with that. Happy because he was very well aware of just how it felt to have lived his life without her. Just how lucky he was that she was giving him another chance when he’d blown so many.

 But would that be enough? Could he really be content with that if, when push came to shove, Rosie decided friendship was all she would ever want from him? That she cared for him but not enough for anything more. And if that were the case, could he stand by and be supportive if, he couldn’t bear to think when, she found someone else? Watch as she gave her heart completely to another man? Built a life with another? Married? Had children?

 The idea filled him with an agonizing dread. He ran shaky hands through his hair and forced himself to take several deep breaths. The honest truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he didn’t know what that meant for him or for them.

Next

[ghost-nabbers-imagines]

💀 with either Sal or Larry, maybe so gets bit after saving them

I did both Sal and Larry but Larry's is written for a fem reader because I really liked the idea for his.

Sal

Considering it was the apocalypse Sal made sure you guys had plenty of supplies in the beginning to avoid confrontation with the outise and long as possible.

But of course you'd eventually have to go out and savage for more food.

He insisted on going out but you insisted on tagging along. After about an hour arguing over whether you were staying or leaving with him he finally caved. You two spent a long while going over a plan.

When it came time to go out you were both nervous but Sal more so. He really didnt enjoy being bitten by a dog let alone a zombie.

He grabbed his handgun and a machete, while you had a crossbow and a katana as well as you both having knives.

You both piled into his car and drove to the grocery store where Sal and Larry used to have part time job. Luckily the shutters were still down and the door was still covered meaning no one had been able to get in.

You guys unlocked the door pulling the can as close to the door as you could leaving the back open.

Both of you grabbed shopping carts and began making your way down the isles unloading the cart each time one got full.

You were in one of that isles grabbing as many canned goods as you could fit in the cart.

"So I'm thinking we can probably fit another cart full in after this one and then we can just leave the door open when we leave."

"Yeah good idea love we have more than enough food here. I'm gonna go grab a couple can openers since they're on the end of this isle."

He walked down a little ways while you returned your focus to the canned goods. A few minutes later you heard him yell.

"N-no not you. No!"

You flipped around to see the zombified corpse of Larry stumbling towards Sal.

He sight of him practically broke your heart. He was still dressed in his uniform of khaki pants, the blue shirt, and the neon vest with a now very faded smiley face. His clothing was tathered and dirty. Some of his hair covered his face hiding away his rotting skin. He had a chunk of flesh missing from his shoulder where he had been bitten.

Knowing that Sal wouldn't be able to kill even the corpse of his best friend you took off towards to the two shoving the cart into your old friend's corpse knocking him into the shelf.

You went to grab your knife from your packing only for it to get caught in a tear in the bag.

You struggled to pull it out only for Larry to knock you to the ground pinning you there. You felt your knife go flying in the other direction.

Larry chomped his teeth snarling above you. Sal was trembling trying to force himself to help.

You pushed with all your might trying to get the lanky corpse off of you.

Before you could move him too far you felt his teeth bite into your upper arm.

Letting out a scream you felt your flash tear between his teeth ripping a hole in your flesh. Blood poured down from the would and out of Larry's teeth.

Seeing you hurt Sal jumped into action he took one one of the cans to Larry's head knocking him off you. Once he was off Sal kept swinging till the corpse was no longer moving.

You moved your right hand to the gash in your left arm. You were bitten like for real. This was it.

"B-baby I- I'm so so sorry. This is my fault."

He crouched down to your level.

"No love it's not your fault."

Sal kissed you tears falling down his face.

"What if we cut it off?"

"That might work you dont think it's too late?"

"We have to try I'm not losing you too. I can't lose you. I can't."

He helped you move to the first aid isle laying you down on a sleeping bag hed found in the store.

You pulled off your shirt while Sal cleaned his blade with shaky hands. Once it was disinfected he gently kissed your forehead taking a deep breath.

Even though your arm was burning with pain you forced a smile.

"I love you Sal."

"I love you too."

He got ready to make the first cut but you stopped him.

"Wait wait!"

He looked at you with teary eyes confused as to why you were prolonging this further.

You painfully moved your engagement ring and wedding band over to your other hand.

He smiled weakly with a small sniffle.

"Dont wanna lose those."

He swung the machete cutting deep.

You let out a loud painful scream.

With his second hit you had fainted. Once the arm was off he began applying pressure to the wound with the sterile pads.

When you woke up you were in pain still but no fever. You reached your hand up to feel where your arm had been only to feel an empty space.

You forced your eyes open to see the ceiling of Sal's place. The place was dark telling you it was late. You could hear soft snoring coming from your side. Each snore was followed by a sad whine or sob. Sal was no doubt having a nightmare about what had happened and was crying in his sleep.

Slowly and painfully you moved your arm over to where his head was rested next to your stomach from sleeping sitting up on the floor. You moved your fingers through his soft blue locks making him stir in his sleep.

He shifted so he was sitting up. Once he rubbed the tears and sleep from his eyes he noticed you were in fact awake and not a walker.

"Love you're ok!"

"I think so babe!"

He hugged you tightly but carefully holding you close.

Larry

You two were in the middle of a run when you had gotten over run by a smaller horde.

You ducked behind a car door readying your barbed wire covered bat. At least Steve Harrington had taught you a few pointers in all those Netlfix binge sessions.

You jumped up swinging knocking one of the roaming corpses to the ground. You dodged around the body taking off in the direction of the apartments.

"(Y/n) love over here!"

You spotted Larry with his back against an overturned uhaul truck. Weaving in between cars and taking out a Walker or two you made your way to your fiance. You could feel the baby kicking in your much larger stomach hinting that he or she was just exhausted of running as you were.

You placed a hand on your growing belly taking a couple deep breaths now that you were back by your husbands side.

He hugged you placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

"We're almost home love. Just another mile or two."

You nodded but you couldn't say you were ready to run another 2 miles especially not in this weather.

After another breather you two set off again taking out a couple more of the living dead. After another few minutes you both stopped in order for you to catch your breath.

You let your back rest against a car.

As you struggled to catch your breath you felt a sharp pain Rip through your stomach. You knew for certain it was a contraction.

"Shit not now!"

"What's the matter love?"

"I think I'm in labor."

"Shit fuck! Not now! Are you sure?"

"Yea I think I can make it to the apartments."

You kept running but after a few minutes you felt a worse sharp pain making you scream out in pain leaning against a car. You grabbed onto the open window squeezing it in pain. Your water broke with this contraction.

A moment later you felt something tear into your wrist making you scream out in pain.

"No!"

Larry pushed you out of the way stabbing his knife into the skull of the Walker.

You looked down at your wrist shocked. You were bitten and in labor.

You had been bitten right at the wrist so your arm was bleeding heavily, considering the physical strain and the heat it just took everything out of you. You fainted falling right into Larry's arms.

When you woke up you were back in what looked like the apartments. You had woken up to that ceiling and poster covered wall everytime you spent the night at Lisa's place.

You could feel throbbing burning pain in both your arm and a dull burn in your stomach.

Even though it was muffled and fuzzy you could hear Larry talking to someone near by.

Once you slowly forced your eyes open completely you were met with the rest of Larry's room.

You moved your arm over feeling the space where the rest of your right arm should be.

Next you moved your hand to feel your stomach. You slowly moved Larry's Sanitys Fall shirt up tracing your stomach where there was a giant stiched up wound.

"She has her moms eyes."

"I know shes beautiful just like her mom. Wait till she wakes up and meets you kid. You're gonna love her. And she's gonna love you so fucking much."

"Want me to hold her while you go check on (y/n)?"

"Sure. Here (daughter name) go see grandma for a minute."

A moment later the door opened up to an exhausted looking Larry.

His eyes were sad and tired his hair a mess. His hands were slightly still colored red from what you could assume was your blood.

Once he saw you were awake he jumped to your side.

"Holy Fuck knuckle love you're awake!"

"What happened?"

He stroked your hair moving it from your face while holding your hand.

"You got bit and we. We were so far from home. I -i had no choice. I c-cut it off and carried you the rest of the way. You weren't conscious to push but thankfully that doctor Morrison showed mom and Todd how to do a c section just in case before he left."

Larry let a few tears fall down his cheek as he talked.

"So the baby is ok?"

"Not only is she ok but she's so beautiful and happy already."

"Can I see her?"

Larry got up kissing you sweetly before going to the door and calling his mom in.

She came in smiling handing you your daughter.

"Shes beautiful."

"I told you just like you."

"Fortunately for her she pulls off Larry's nose a lot better than he does."

"Fuck off little dude!"

Everyone shared a laugh happy that everyone was ok.

Later that night you two laid in bed the baby between you both wide awake Larry's arm draped over both you.

"I love you so much. I was so scared I was gonna lose you."

"I love you too Larry. You saved me. Both of us really."

"I cant take all the credit. You fought for keeping our baby alive even if you didnt know you were doing it. I need you to do me a favor ok?"

"Sure what lar bear?"

"That you won't go out as much anymore. I need you safe and she needs at least one of us alive. At least take it easy for a little while even after you've healed."

"Ok love I'll try."

He leaned forward kissing you then your daughters head.

Lex💛

[aliencowboyqueen]

FIC: The Rules to Accidental Dating (5)

Pairing: Alex/Kyle

Summary: In which Kyle and Alex accidentally pretend-date their way to love.

Rating: Teen+

Find Chapter 1 here. | Find previous chapter here. | Fic Masterlist.

Chapter 5

Kyle knows instantly that the Manes son he sees leaving Jesse's hospital room is not Alex, even from the back. He knows the shape of Alex's shoulders, the way his hair is longer than the standard military cut these days, long enough to almost obscure the freshly pierced ear. He knows the sort of energy Alex emits when he visits his father.

Before the Manes brother, whichever he is, turns to see Kyle, Kyle changes the trajectory of his fast-paced walk down the hospital corridor. He almost collides with a nurse but that still seems less unpleasant than walking into that man.

Yet he feels someone's gaze on the back of his head.

He feels it all day.

When he leaves the hospital, he feels it still. The hair on the back of his neck stands at attention. He feels on edge, being at the end of a double shift doesn't help, the nervous rhythm of his heart reminds him of the night a few weeks ago, when Jesse Manes…

Though he's barely standing on his feet after so many hours at the hospital, he stops by at a store. He chooses Space Supplies for his trip, knowing most Manes men hate it on principle. He makes his way past the tourist trap section with all things alien and then spends too long looking at the milk at the back of the store. He wishes he had his bulletproof vest on. He almost, but not really, wishes he had bought that gun. He wishes he wasn't alone. He wishes his heart stopped bouncing around in his ribcage and his palms sweating. But at least he can stay longer in the public setting, hoping the sensation of being followed fades away.

Then he almost jumps out of his skin when Flint Manes knocks their shoulders together.

"Interesting thing you did with our father…" Flint hisses. He has his arm pressed against the length of Kyle's and Kyle wonders if there's a gun within reach of it. He doesn't dare to look. The knife of fear under his ribs is enough to keep him in place.

Though if Flint approached him in public, he probably won't get murdered tonight.

"If you mean I made sure he had the best possible medical care… You are welcome," he says. Angry men with guns are like wild animals. Like irritated dogs. Don't provoke them, but don't show fear. He is afraid he is dangerously close to provoking.

Flint's intake of breath could be a snort. "Careful, Valenti," he says. "That tone, someone might think you have something to hide."

"Thanks for the warning."

Flint doesn't move away. Kyle feels the heat radiating off him, the scent for his aftershave, senses Flint's intake of air when his arm moves just a little with his breaths. These same things are always a familiar comfort coming from Alex. From Flint, not so much.

But Kyle feels as if his feet have been screwed to the floor. His chest aches where the Jesse Manes' bullet hit him.

"You've been spending a lot of time in my brother's company, I hear," Flint says.

Kyle blinks. It's not a turn he expected the conversation to take. "What is it to you?" he asks.

"People tend to get hurt around Alex," Flint replies, casual.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm just warning you. Alex is my little brother, I…"

And somehow that snaps Kyle out of his frozen state. He spins to face Flint. "Is he now?"

He is surprised that Flint startles and actually takes a step back. He doesn't have a gun. At least not a visible one. Kyle wouldn't put it past him to carry a concealed weapon somewhere on his body.

"Because you always did a miserable job of being a brother to him," Kyle hisses. "Where were you when… Ten years ago, during that daily taunting?" He was the one doing much of the taunting then, but he doesn't want to bring that into the conversation. He takes another step towards Flint. "You were conveniently pretending you didn't have a brother at all, weren't you?" Later, Kyle will wonder if his own old shame plays a role in this incident.

Flint doesn't back away. Instead h comes closer and Kyle finds himself staring at his chin.

He doesn't back out either. "So don't dare threaten me with this scary big brother routine now. You should have done that then. You should have been there for him then. When your father was abusing him. When he bullied Alex into joining the army. Maybe you wouldn't have these problems now."  And maybe he is speaking to himself, too.

"You don't know," hisses Flint. "You have no idea what it was like growing up with him."

Kyle doesn't know if Flint is referring to Jesse or Alex. It doesn't matter. His hands coil into fists.

"You don't deserve to call yourself Alex's family."

ooo ooo ooo

By the time his mother calls him in, his lip has stopped bleeding but it's swollen. The throbbing ache is a constant reminder of how stupid he's been earlier. He let himself provoke Flint.

At least he didn't throw the first punch. Or a second one. Flint's knuckles connecting with his jaw knocked sense into him.

"You wanted to see me?" he asks, already feeling like a chastised boy.

Michelle gives him a withering gaze. "What's gotten into you?" she asks. He remembers the times she looked at him years ago just like this. When he was the golden boy of Roswell and only his mother sometimes looked at him with concern and asked whether he was alright. "Why did I hear about you getting in a fight with one of the Manes boys at a store? That doesn't sound like you at all."

"It wasn't a fight," Kyle protests. "Just some exchange of opinions." His lip starts bleeding again when he tries to smile. He takes out a tissue.

"Was this about Master Sergeant Manes?" Michelle prods. "I hear he hasn't recovered yet."

"No, he is still in a coma."

Michelle's piercing gaze makes him wonder if he's being interrogated by his mother or the sheriff. "I would assume that once the barbiturates he so mysteriously overdosed on were out of his system, he would wake up."

"His condition baffles everyone."

"If I didn't know any better, I would think someone was giving him additional medication to keep him under."

Kyle holds her gaze. "That'd be irregular and possibly illegal," he says truthfully. "It would be also very easy to trace."

Michelle sighs. "Is that what you and Flint were fighting about?" She leans forward against her desk, her expression open. Inviting. The good cop. The caring mother. "Did it have anything to do with those letters your father left?"

"No, not at all," Kyle shakes his head. "It was about Alex." Except not really. It was about Jesse, but Flint felt the need to throw Alex in Kyle's face when the original bait didn't take. Kyle is sure of that.

Michelle startles. She leans back in her chair. "Alex Manes?"

"Yeah." Obviously.

She looks at him for a long time, then she shakes her head and expels a heavy sigh. "If you're not pressing charges… Try to stay out of trouble."

↳ Next Chapter

[batfamily-trash]

Elf Adventures

December, every little kids favorite month only because Christmas existed. It was a wonderful month, but a stressful one too. People panicking about gifts, students stressing over finals, and superheroes, vigilantes and bad guys slipping on ice. What a wonderful month!

Elves ran from station to station carrying toys and trinkets with them. You were one of those elves, but you weren’t exactly working. Nope, you were looking over a map of Gotham City. Why? Because it was your job now to deliver gifts to the children there this year.

Each year, Santa hand-picked a group of elves to help him on his expedition and this year you were one of them. You considered yourself lucky, as Santa always chose the most well-behaved elves.

You drummed your fingers against your leg as sat outside of your assigned workshop. You were nervous. You have only left the North Pole once in your life, but that was only for a few minutes. Now you were leaving for an unknown amount of hours, and your assigned city was supposedly one of the most dangerous cities in America. Maybe the world. What a joy.

Once you were done being nervous, you dusted off some snow that had landed on your shoulders and entered the chaotic workshop. You ducked as toys flew over your head. You spent your life in that workshop and you could never get used to the flying toys or magic. You didn’t realize you had zoned out until you felt some harsh tapping on your shoulder.

“Y/NNNNN wake up!” your best friend shouted.

You snapped out of your daze and turned your attention to the elf in front of you. “Yeah?”

“It’s almost Christmas you should be heading to Gotham,” B/F/N said handing you a paper. You sighed and quickly read the paper which turned out to be a list of all the children in Gotham. When you finished reading the paper you folded it up and placed it in one of your vests pockets.

“Right…"

B/F/N quickly gave you a hug and wished you luck before running off to continue their work. This was going to be a long night.

Christmas night was usually a quiet night in Gotham. Usually. Villains would spend time with friends and family and not cause chaos. Which is a nice gesture on their part.

But there was someone causing trouble. On accident.

You ran as fast as you could from two dogs. Two dogs who were really close to ripping you to pieces. You would use your magic to get away but it currently wasn’t working.

"I’m a friend, not an enemy!” you cried out as an attempt to stop them. After a few minutes of running, you quickly glanced over your shoulder and skid to a stop. You weren’t being chased anymore.

Just when you thought everything was fine someone tackled you. You yelped when you felt something sharp press against the back of your neck.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” your attacked asked.

You moved your head to the side and glared at the person on top of your back. “I’ll give you answers if you could kindly get off me, thank you.”

“No.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine, my name is Y/N, and I have no clue what am I doing or where I am.”

When the person, who you now concluded was a kid, finally got off your back you got up and fixed your clothes. “Right, sorry for trespassing but I must go now. Bye!”

Before you could even move, you were surrounded by what seemed to be part of the Batfamily. You looked up at Batman and caught him glaring at you with amusement.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, why did you break into Wayne Manor?” Robin asked.

“And why are you dressed as an elf?” Red Robin added. You glanced down at your clothes before turning your attention to the vigilantes.

“So this IS Wayne Manor. I thought I was in a dead zone for magic,” you said, whispering the last part to yourself.

“You never answered our question.”

You rubbed your eyes and groaned. So many questions, so little time to answer them. “Ugh, I’m one of Santa’s elves and I was helping him deliver gifts when my magic failed and I landed here. Satisfied?”

Robin and Red Robin started laughing when you finished speaking. You rolled eyes and put your hands on your hips. “Don’t believe me?”

“N-no,” Red Robin laughed. You sighed in annoyance and reached into one of your pockets and took out an envelope. The envelope looked any other but it was directed to Batman or Bruce Wayne. Santa had given it to you in case something happened and you needed help.

“This is for you Mister Wayne, ” you said handing the envelope to Batman. Robin and Red Robin stopped laughing and looked at you in confusion. You only smirked as Batma- Bruce read the letter.

When Bruce finished reading the letter, he placed it back in the envelope and handed it back to you. “They’re telling the truth.”

Damian glared at you as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, if elves are real, then is Santa real?” Tim asked you. You just shrugged your shoulders.

“Come on, we don’t need anyone else knowing of Y/N’s existence,” Bruce said, walking past you and his sons. You quickly followed after him with Tim and Damian following close behind.

Once inside the manor, you were greeted by the two dogs who had chased you earlier and a group of people.

“Who’s the walking Christmas tree?” The tallest of the group asked. You ignored his comment and turned towards Bruce.

“I should really be going, any chance there’s a spot here that isn’t, I don’t know, anti-elf magic?”

“Not that I am aware of, sorry.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“Bruceeeeee, who’s that?” Asked another person. You turned to face the rest of the Batfamily who were curiously looking at you.

“Oh, sorry, guess I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N, and as I have explained to Mr. Wayne and Drake, I’m an elf.”

“An elf?”

“I’m not explaining myself.”

“But…”

“Drop it, Dick.”

After explaining your situation to everyone, they agreed to help you finish your rounds and get you home. But that wasn’t the last of your adventures together.

Whenever you weren’t busy or needed in the North Pole, you would go to Gotham and help the Batfamily in missions. Your presence would always confuse the bad guys. Always.

“Let’s go on a simple mission she said, it’ll be easy she said,” you exclaimed. “You lied! Steph! You lied!”

Stephanie laughed as the both of you ran from the burning warehouse. “It was the only way to get you to come! Besides, I’m the one that got caught not you!”

You sighed at Stephanie’s childish act as you caught up to her. You looked over your shoulder and admired your guys work. At least you two managed to prevent Black Mask from distributing weapons for a while.

“Although you gotta admit, their reactions when they realized you were in the room were hilarious,” Stephanie said coming to a stop.

“True, but the next time you plan on dragging me on a dangerous mission don’t lie. And invite Cass.”

“Whatever you say elfie.”

[norabrice1701]

An Accidental Demon

A “Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them” AU fanfic

Pairing: Vet Student!Newt Scamander / Demon!Percival Graves 

Summary: All Newt wanted from IKEA was a bookshelf. Instead, he left with a demon that he accidentally summoned while trying to pronounce furniture names. Lovely. 

Rating: General  Audiences - nothing to fear here [full warnings on AO3 link at bottom of the post]

A/N: This was born from a post on a friend’s FB page, and I had to let it out. I might continue this?? It’s proving to be too much fun, but for now, it’s a one-shot. Also, the demonology here is pretty general.

Oh, dear. Shopping at IKEA should not be so stressful. As if assemble-it-yourself furniture wasn’t intimidating enough, there was also the indignity of trying to pronounce the furniture names.

But there was nothing for it. This was the third bookshelf that Dougal – his Great Pyrenees rescue – had taken out in as many months while chasing his sweet Niffler cat around. Honestly, one would think after a year of cohabitation, the dog and cat would be used to each other. But the sad, destroyed remains of Newt’s bookshelf told a different story.

That’s how he found himself back at IKEA. But this time, a simple replacement wouldn’t do. He needed something more robust. Hopefully, something that might be spared catastrophic damage during any future high speed chases. Maybe even something wall mounted? Perhaps those modular shelves that he could pick, arrange and mount well above Dougal’s sizable height? Hm, that might be just the ticket.

But now, as he wandered through the aisles, trying to match the product names from his internet search to the various tags of assembled, display furniture – maybe it would be simpler to just get what he got last time. Even if Dougal would likely destroy it a fourth time.

Newt ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he looked back down to his loopy handwriting. “No, not Ehk-t…Lix-hult. That looks familiar.” There was certainly a time and place to appreciate cultural and language differences, but navigating the aisles of IKEA was not it, in Newt’s opinion. He just wanted to buy shelves, go home, assemble them and change out of his fur covered scrubs. Yes, he loved his vet school clinical rotations but Dougal, Niffler and the others tended to be a little possessive when he was home.

He moved for the next row, holding up his paper to compare more names, mumbling under his breath. “Let’s see – oh, there’s Lix-hult, Li-xhult…err, Mos-torp. Sval-na. Um, Best-aa.”

A just barely-there puff of air brushed his cheek, carrying an odor. A rather…unpleasant, rotten odor. If Newt didn’t know better, he’d swear it was the smell of rotten eggs. But that was impossible in the middle of a furniture store. That’s when he noticed the dark shape in his peripheral. A dark shape that he distinctly didn’t recall before.

He turned, keeping his eyes down, but he couldn’t help but take in the man now standing next to him. Refined and polished, his sharp suit and shoes alone must have cost at least a year of Newt’s sad student job salary. And that was to say nothing about the sleek black overcoat that teased a luxurious white lining. The man’s dark eyes, thick brows, strong jaw, and dark hair streaked white at his temples, completed the unfairly attractive, imposing picture.

Newt – with uncombed hair, scrubs covered in all manner of animal fur, and a worn blue overcoat – felt like a downright slob by comparison to this man who looked fresh from a magazine cover. Newt blinked quickly, trying to quirk his lips in a polite smile. Small talk with strangers was always the most excruciating. Especially when the stranger was so handsome. “Um, hi…please, excuse me. If I’m in your way, that is.” He stepped back, not daring to meet the man’s gaze, feeling his cheeks flush. Curse his fair skin that betrayed him at every turn.

The dark-haired man said nothing, but Newt could feel the weight of his stare. It made him want to fidget even more than normal, and he chanced a lingering glance at the man’s face. The man studied him with an otherworldly intensity in those dark brown eyes. It reminded Newt of a predator studying a prey, learning their habits to plan a more effective kill. He wrenched a nervous swallow, suddenly wondering if he could outrun this man.

The man blinked, licking his lips quickly. “Hello, Mr. Scamander.”

The blood froze in Newt’s veins, every survival instinct kicking into gear. “H-how…do you know my name?” Sure, it was the obvious question, but it had to be asked. “We’ve never met before. And I certainly don’t know your name. Are you…have you been stalking me?” The words poured forth, more a nervous tic than anything. But still true. Newt would never have forgotten such a striking face.

“No,” mild astonishment and irritation colored the other man’s gaze, “I was quite content to mind my own business until you summoned me.”

“Summoned….I beg your pardon, summoned you?” Had Newt gone to IKEA or the Twilight Zone? Who just went up to strangers and said stuff like that? Newt blew an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “Look, if you really have nothing better to do than prank defenseless people at IKEA, then I’m sorry for you. But truly, this has gone on long enough, and I’m genuinely not amused.”

The man raised a brow, affronted. “You’re genuinely not amused? I assure you, the feeling is quite mutual. So, let us conclude our deal here, and then I’ll gladly return to my previous business.”

“Deal?” Newt echoed, shaking his head. “We have no deal to conclude. I don’t even know you!”

“Your mistake if you spoke my incantation without knowing who I am. Which, I will confess – is rather reckless of you, Mr. Scamander. In fact, no protection charms, no summoning circle,” the man’s lips curled with a devilish air as he took a step forward, gazing down Newt’s body with a calculating assessment. “Mm, the fun I could have with you right here.”

The purred words should in no way race a tingling shiver of anticipation down Newt’s spine, but dammit, they did.

Newt licked his lips, holding his ground. “A summoning circle, protection…why should I need protection from you?”

“You really don’t know who I am? Or what you’ve done?”

“Well, you said I summoned you. But I didn’t…I was just…,” Newt shook the paper with the shelf names scrawled on it, “I was just trying to pronounce the names of these shelving units-.“

“And instead, you summoned a demon. Please stop wasting my time, Mr. Scamander.”

Newt registered nothing of the man’s bored tone, stunned at the admission. At the possibility. A demon? A real, live demon?! Weren’t they just supernatural make-believe? But this man before him, pulling a silver pocket watch from his suit vest and flipping the cover back with an irritated gesture, was so very real. Newt’s eyes lit with possibility. “A demon. Truly? That’s what you are?”

“Yes,” the self-professed demon huffed mildly, “now, please, to the business at hand?”

A grin cracked Newt’s face. “I don’t even know what the business at hand is. But a real demon. My goodness.” This was far better than any Christmas morning. A chance to learn about a whole new species - a whole new creature. A supernatural creature! If everything the man said was true, then Newt wanted to learn everything there was to learn. His wild curiosity begged for so much more. Where did the demon come from? Did he have powers? What was his purpose here? “I-I have so many questions.”

“None of which I’m inclined to answer. Especially not here.” The dark eyes glanced around shrewdly, taking in the movements of other unsuspecting shoppers.

Something in the man’s - demon’s - assessment suddenly made Newt self-conscious, glancing around with a nervous edge. Goodness, what a picture he must make standing next to this man. This man, dressed to the nines, clearly many years older than Newt - supernatural implications notwithstanding - who could at best pass as Newt’s friend, and at worst a sugar daddy. Heat flamed unbidden in Newt’s cheeks at the thought.

He shook his head, physically trying to shake the thought away. “Yes, yes, of course. We should probably leave. Well, that is, assuming you’re bound or stuck to me, or something...until whatever brought you here is concluded.”

Irritation flashed in the demon’s eyes, staring back at Newt as if trying to convince himself that Newt was actually real.

Newt waited for the demon to respond, shifting his weight on his feet. Anything to lessen his discomfort under the scrutiny of those intense eyes. Annoyance bubbled as the older man said nothing and Newt puffed a sigh. “Alright, very well. If you’re coming, that’s fine - if not, then...then, good day.”

He’d been plainly aware since his arrival in New York for veterinary school that his accent and manners didn’t fit with the vibrant American hustle and bustle. But they were something he hadn’t wanted to lose. There was no cause to bring more ugliness to the world, and everyone deserved well-mannered treatment. Demon or not.

Even if the man had interrupted his bookshelf buying outing. 

But if Newt did indeed now have a demon to contend with, perhaps replacing a damaged bookshelf was now the least of his worries.

The well-dressed man fell into step beside him as Newt turned to thread his way through the rest of the labyrinth store. It...this was just too absurd. And certainly not what Newt had planned for his Thursday night after clinicals. He cast a sideways glance, surprised to note that the demon was actually a couple inches shorter than he was. Something about that amused him, and a lopsided grin lifted his mouth. “You know, we haven’t properly met yet. It sounds like you already know, but I’m Newton Scamander. Newt, though, if you please.”

The man nodded almost imperceptibly. “You may call me Graves.”

Newt’s brow furrowed. “Just Graves?”

“Mr. Graves, if you prefer.”

“Don’t...don’t you have a first name or something less...severe?” The demon stared over at him, blank and hard. “Right, Mr. Graves it is. I...I take it that’s not your real name?” The smell of the cinnamon rolls and other food from the eatery reached his nose as, thankfully, they neared the exit.

“I’ve had many names over the millennia. Street. Dandridge. Clayton. Each served a purpose, just as Graves does now. And if you don’t already know my true name, then me telling you is certainly not advantageous.” Graves’ coat flared in the cool, late afternoon air as they exited into the fading sunlight. He looked completely unbothered by the transition from inside to outside, paying Newt no mind while Newt fumbled with the buttons on his coat. They were in for a chilly subway ride, after all.

Newt glanced over to Graves, intrigued. “Does... the cold not bother you? Or...or the sunlight?”

Graves’ face pinched with obvious irritation, even bewilderment. “I’m not a vampire.”

Newt’s eyes widened, excited. “Do those exist, too?”

Graves’ hand clenched at his side under the flared sleeve of his overcoat, a condescending disapproval hardening his gaze. It was impressively intimidating. Especially considering the man stood shorter than Newt. Without a word, Graves turned with a sweep of black and white fabric, and stepped forward on the curb, raising a hand at the passing line of taxis.

“No, no,” Newt moved after him with an obvious air of panic, “we’ll do better to take the subway. See, I don’t exactly live all that close. And with traffic at this time of day, well - a taxi won’t be cost effective. I don’t...I don’t know if you understand about money-”

“I understand plenty, Mr. Scamander.” The words were snarled with a coiled frustration that froze Newt in place. “I understand that you ripped me from my previous business without a purpose. I understand that you’ve initiated a contract that you don’t know the first thing about. And I understand that if I must endure New York City until our business is concluded, I will never set foot on the subway.”

A yellow cab stopped at the curb and Graves stepped up to it without waiting for Newt to respond.

Oh dear. Newt worked a hard swallow down his throat as he debated following the demon or just bolting for the subway station. Would that make things worse? Could things get worse?

The cab door stayed open behind Graves as he settled against the black interior, glancing back at Newt. The silent command on the demon’s face was unmistakable.

With another nervous swallow, Newt stepped forward and climbed into the taxi.

Full fic link to AO3! 

[winterisakiller]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Eight

Chapter: 8/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T (for now)

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER EIGHT  

Tom let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t seem to focus and it was driving him nearly out of his mind with frustration. He’d dropped more things that day than he had for as long as he could remember; books, his phone, his keys, just about anything his fingers touched. He’d gotten lost during conversations; Luke had told him off quite spectacularly when he’d done so during the phone conference that they’d planned for weeks. And, to add insult to injury, he’d had very nearly tripped over Bobby, who’d been demanding a walk since before Tom had been fully conscious; twice. It was utterly ridiculous. But no matter what he did or how hard he’d tried, his mind kept wandering back to his phone call with Rosie the night before.

It had been wonderful to just be able to talk with her again. To be able to share his thoughts with her and to be able to hear hers in return. To once again have a peek into the world as she saw it. It was something he’d spent so long convinced he’d never have again. Something he’d reluctantly surrendered due to his own massive stupidity and shortsightedness. These last two weeks had honestly been some of the best of his life. Just knowing that she was a part of his world again; that she wanted to be a part of it was so far beyond anything he’d dared to hope for. 

Still the unease he’d felt when she’d causally mentioned her fallout with Jules refused to be shaken. He’d only met the tall redhead a handful of times and in all of those she’d been warm and openly friendly towards him. But that had been before he’d broken her friend’s heart. And knowing just how close the two women were Tom could hardly blame Jules for hating him. He certainly would have. And knowing that because of him, even in such a roundabout way, they’d become estranged made the guilt he still carried that much harsher and harder to bear. 

His kneejerk reaction had been to fix it. To jump right in without pausing to think if he had any right to do so. To do whatever he could to make it right. But the last time he’d gone off halfcocked in such a manner it had blown up quite spectacularly in his face. And, more importantly, he’d hurt Rosie. And badly. He couldn’t do that again. He refused to. 

Tom took a deep breath and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. There was little he could do about what had happened, he knew that. They would fix it on their own and in their own time. His interfering would only serve to make things worse. And Rosie said that they’re okay now, he told himself. Just let them fix it on their own. Let it go, Hiddleston. Just let it go. 

He’d been pacing his living room nearly since he’d walked in the door half an hour previously. Bobby, sensing his master’s nervous energy, had been uncharacteristically whiny and jumpy. After nearly tripping over him, again, Tom finally decided that enough was enough. He knew that if he didn’t do something, and soon, he would surely lose what was left of his mind. 

“Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the spaniel on his head. Bobby looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I’ve got you all out of sorts haven’t I?” The spaniel barked once in answer and Tom chuckled to himself. 

He stood quickly and headed for the side door where he kept Bobby’s lead. He turned back noting with a hint of amusement that the spaniel had followed him on his quest, and held up the lead. “Walkies?” 

Bobby barked and bounced excitedly which caused Tom to laugh aloud.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

                                                      —

It had taken nearly half an hour for the pair to head out into the unseasonably chilled April afternoon; Bobby bundled in his quilted vest and Tom in his reliable, and mercifully warm, black wool coat. Door locked firmly behind him, he led Bobby down the front stairs and out the gate heading towards the main road. 

The sidewalks were relatively crowded for so early on a weekday afternoon, but Tom played it little mind. The neighborhood was a relatively quiet one and he was hardly ever bothered walking in and around it. He’d made the decision to take them both on a few warm up laps through the quiet streets of his neighborhood before heading towards the ironed gates of the nearby park. The park was only a five minute walk from the house and had been one of the reasons he’d chosen to live there in the first place. It was large and had a long, winding path that was an excellent jogging site and one he frequented as often as he could. 

An hour later saw Tom, and Bobby, making their second circuit around the leafy paved jogging path in the park. His head was markedly clearer but the heaviness that had come with it was still there. Bobby, for his part, seemed completely content. He’d kept a good pace with his master, stopping only occasionally when a particular tree or object caught his attention. A marked change from his puppyhood days where any and everything was both a potential friend and a dangerous enemy all at once. What a difference a few years made, Tom thought to himself with a breathless laugh. 

Tom began to slow as they approached an empty bench along the path. The lace of his left trainer had loosened significantly during his run and he could feel the shoe slipping with each stride he took. The last thing he wanted was for the damned thing to come off or to trip him up. Because he knew that was when a lone photographer would be certain to show and preserve the moment for posterity. Especially given the way his luck had been running as of late. Luke would just find that fucking hilarious. 

With a shake of his head, Tom propped his foot up on the bench, bending to tighten the loosened laces. His breathing was coming in harsh pants, his chest burning with the effort. God, he really was frighteningly out of shape. He’d cut back a bit on his running during the winter months; he still went as faithfully as he could every morning but not for anywhere near his usual distance, and now he was clearly paying for it. Bobby, who’s lead had been tied to the bench leg as he was oft to go ‘exploring’ if left unattended, bounced around Tom barking every so often at a passing jogger or squirrel, it didn’t much seem to matter which.   

As he bent to his task, Tom heard rather than saw the women who had knelt beside the now jumping dog, scratching behind his ears and telling him in a soft, sweet voice just how handsome he was. The voice was strangely familiar though he couldn’t seem to place exactly why. Laces finally tied, he turned to face the woman and Bobby. Tom worked to quickly school his features into warm, but neutral politeness. He’d had far too many ‘chance’ encounters with women; mostly fans and, thankfully, mostly harmless, in the last few years to not be at least somewhat on his guard. He startled as a strangely familiar mass of red hair caught his attention. 

Surely not. 

The woman raised her head at Tom’s movement and he watched, torn between amusement and alarm, as Jules’ eyes widened in recognition. Speak of the devil, he thought with a flash of amusement. He watched as they quickly narrowed into green slits before slowly relaxing back into a carefully controlled neutrality. Jules stood staring at him, arms crossed at her chest. “Tom,” she stated, her voice a shade too even. Too controlled. 

“Jules,” he responded, his own voice as even as he could make it. He offered her a friendly smile and then, not quite knowing what else to do, he continued, “And how have you been?” As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. His words sounded flippant and dismissive even to his own ears. God only knew how she would take them. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said… 

“I honestly don’t have any desire to talk niceties with you,” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing once more at him. 

Tom felt himself flinch. Her dislike of him clearly hadn’t been exaggerated, not that he believed Rosie would have done such a thing. He let out a resigned sigh. Well there went any hope of a polite encounter. He took a deep breath to gather himself and held his hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I know you don’t like me,” he started, eyes settled on her face. “And honestly I can’t say that I blame you....” 

Jules scoffed at this, shaking her head as she cut him off. “Damn right, I don’t.” She unfolded her arms, letting them drop to her sides before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and continued to glare. She appeared not to care overmuch that they were in a public setting nor how much her voice carried. His eye darted around the surrounding path but no one at the moment seemed to be paying them any mind. “Do you honestly think that just because you smile and act like a gentleman for the fucking fans and the damned cameras means you can treat people, who for some god forsaken reason love you, like they don’t fucking matter?” 

He blinked at her stunned confusion, irritation bubbling steadily inside of him. “Now wait just a minute…” 

She reeled on him, “No,” she hissed, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest. “You are a conceited ass! You expect people to fall all over themselves if you flash them a smile. Well believe you me, I’m not buying it.” She paused, chest heaving slightly. After several moments silence she continued. “I don’t have the first idea what she sees in you. She fucking loved you. Loved you and you threw her away like she was nothing! Do you have any idea what that did to her? Do you?” 

Tom stood, motionless as she continued her tirade, each word slamming into him with the force of a blow. He’d wanted to snap back at her how unfair she was being, how she had no idea how badly doing so had hurt him as well, but knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. She was absolutely right. He had been a complete and utter bastard and nothing he could do or say would change that. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. 

“She was a fucking mess for months,” Jules hissed. Tom’s reaction seeming to matter little in her need to lay everything out in the open. “She blamed herself, do you know that? She kept saying that if she had just kept her mouth shut then you wouldn’t have left.” She laughed coldly at that.  “God, do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch that? Jesus. It didn’t make one bit of difference what I said to her. How much I told her that it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t listen!” She paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But then she met Bryan. They weren’t perfect but she seemed to be getting better. With him. He made her smile and she was happy,” her voice softened slightly but quickly turned back into steel as her eyes caught his. “And then you just had to come waltzing back in, fucking with her head. I found her after you left, did you know that? She was devastated and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. Again. She’s my best friend and I had to watch her tear herself apart because you just had to have the last fucking say. You were gone why the fuck did you come back? She was happy.” 

Tom swallowed, his throat felt tight and for a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort. He quietly looked down at his hands before continuing, “I wanted to fix it. I wanted to apologize for what I’d done to her. For how badly I known I’d hurt her. I just thought if I could explain; let her know that it was me; it was always me and never, ever, her, that she could know that none of what happened was her fault. That she could have finally have some form of closure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.” He raised his eyes to hers, hoping she could understand. “I just wanted to make it right.” 

Jules stared at him, her eyes narrowed in unadulterated suspicion. “You’ve done a bang up job of that,” she spat. “Do you know that shortly after your little impromptu therapy session she ended things with Bryan?  He was good for her, he wanted to help her, fuck he encouraged her to talk to you, to get all of this,” she gesticulated wildly, “out so that she could finally let you go. He was there for her, cared for her, and she pushed him away. Because of you.” 

He felt his heart stutter in his chest. Rosie had mentioned in passing that she and Bryan had ended, but hadn’t elaborated on the how or the why. And he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to know. Another wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t meant to cause her any more pain or grief and yet that was all he had seemed to do. “I was wrong to do that to her,” Tom whispered, fighting to keep himself focused. “It was stupid and completely selfish of me and I own that without question. And I know there isn’t any way for me to make up for what I’ve done and the hurt I’ve caused her.” 

Tom paused again, gathering himself. “But I need to you understand that I love her. That has not changed. I’ve been an absolute and utter tit about it, but I do love her.” He looked Jules directly in her eyes, hoping she could see that he meant it. Every single word of it. “I don’t know what is happening between us now and I will not speak for her, but no matter what happens I am here and I will not go unless she asks me to. Whatever she wants between us; be it friendship or something more, I will take it and be grateful for it. She’s given me another chance, though god only knows it’s far more than I deserve, and I absolutely refuse to waste it. I’ve already wasted so many.” 

“I wish I could believe that for her sake,” Jules answered, honestly. “But I’ve seen this song and dance before, Tom. And I’ve seen just how it ends.” She paused, shaking her head and laughed humorlessly. “She can’t say no to you and I think you know that. She’ll bend herself over backwards to make you happy and that’s honestly not fair to her.” She laughed again. It resonated with concern and uncertainty. “She’s had a rough few months. Especially with how things ended with Adam. I don’t want her to throw herself into something that could just make matters worse.” 

Tom blinked at Jules in confusion. It took several moments for him to gather himself enough to speak. When he did the name fell from his lips in a near whisper. “Adam?” He lowered himself onto the bench, ignoring Bobby’s incessant barking. He’d never heard Rosie utter that name before but the way Jules spoke of him told Tom just how important he must have been. She never said... He felt an all too familiar sinking sense of dread flood through his gut. 

Jules let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle; her eyes held a look of what he thought was almost pity, but he couldn’t say with any certainty. “They were together nearly two years. Happiest I’ve seen her in the longest time. They’d talked about moving in together and she’d mentioned entertaining the idea of marriage.” She paused again, shrugging. “But he got a job in the states. And with the shop and her life here…Well…He took the promotion and they quietly ended things. She was heartbroken and honestly so was he. It took her a long time to start to bounce back. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Especially, not by you.” 

Tom opened his mouth to respond then, just as quickly, shut it. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth, vaguely aware of Jules’ stare and Bobby’s confused barking. He didn’t know what to think about anything he’d just heard, let alone what to possibly say in response. In the back of his mind, he’d always known there was a distinct possibility Rosie would find someone else; someone far better for her than he could ever hope to be. At first he had thought it might have been Bryan. 

He’d only seen the man once, in passing, and the little he’d known of him had come from Rosie herself. It had hurt, yes, but not as badly as he had always believed it would. Looking back he wondered if it was because he had sensed Rosie’s own uncertainty. She had said she cared for him but never that she’d loved him. And with that he had, unconsciously at least, known that there was still a chance. A remotely possibility. But Adam…Adam seemed something else entirely. And Tom found that being faced with the reality that she had found someone rather than simply the idea of it, another matter entirely. 

He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I don’t want to see her hurt again either,” he whispered, honestly. “I truly, truly don’t. I understand your concern and I know just how important she is to you. And you are to her.” He paused, looking Jules directly in the eyes. “I know my track record is far, far less than impressive, but I meant what I said. I love her. She means the world to me and I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t.” He closed his eyes and took another short, calming breath, “I don’t know what the future holds or even if there is one for us, but I won’t walk away again. Not unless she tells me to and even then I’m not entirely sure that I could. I love her and right now, just having her as a friend is enough.” 

Jules studied him quizzically, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms once again at her chest. “And when it’s not?” Her words were pointed, direct. Tom felt his heart plummet at them. He hadn’t let himself think anything beyond the fact that Rosie had let him back into her life. And how grateful he had been for it. That had been enough. But now the idea was there, he wasn’t sure he could let it be. Flashing Tom a knowing smile and a quirked eyebrow, Jules dropped to scratch Bobby’s ear once more and walked away. 

With her words echoing through his head, Tom dropped himself silently back onto the bench. He loved Rosie, loved her deeply. That was one thing in which he was completely and utterly sure. She had loved him, at one point, and possibly still did despite everything that had happened. But he couldn’t know for sure. There was a history between them, as messy and convoluted as it was. What was less certain, however, was their future. She wanted his friendship, wanted him in her life. And he was happy with that. Happy because he was very well aware of just how it felt to have lived his life without her. Just how lucky he was that she was giving him another chance when he’d blown so many. 

But would that be enough? Could he really be content with that if, when push came to shove, Rosie decided friendship was all she would ever want from him? That she cared for him but not enough for anything more. And if that were the case, could he stand by and be supportive if, he couldn’t bear to think when, she found someone else? Watch as she gave her heart completely to another man? Built a life with another? Married? Had children? 

The idea filled him with an agonizing dread. He ran shaky hands through his hair and forced himself to take several deep breaths. The honest truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he didn’t know what that meant for him or for them.

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