#he proposed just before we left for a Christmas party

[labella-instagram]

Christmas Eve 🥰

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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In Verona, you’re an outcast. Bradley’s determined to make up for the day before.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance, professor / student relationship, age gap ( 22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity, them actually getting along for once?, kissing, bradley has a corruption kink and doesn’t know it. wc: 7.35k

…

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now.” His voice grew agitated on the other end of the line. Understandably, he expected a delightful update on your sunny summer in Italy and was blindsided by you bringing up a fight from last year. “It’s been months. We’ve moved on.”

The phone pinned between your cheek and your shoulder, you fidgetted nervously with the band around your finger, inspecting the expensive diamond that sits on top of it. Hearing the annoyance in his voice, you should have stopped there, and told him that it didn’t matter. You hadn’t.

“I know, I know we have,” Your voice trembled. Your fiancé sighed hard on the other end of the line. “But the last thing I remember is being at that party with you. If I hurt you, Malcolm—“

“I asked you to marry me.” He blurted out, abrupt and biting. There was no point lying to you. There never had been, you would never let something like this go. He was upset. You could tell. You had continued anyway.

Your brows knitted together. “No… you proposed to me at my parents’ house. O-On Christmas Eve.”

“I did,” Malcolm breathed out through gritted teeth. Thinking of how you had humiliated him that night isn’t a fond memory. “But I asked you to marry me that night, at that party, without a ring. I told you that you’re the love of my life and I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

You had closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to think. You still don’t know how anyone is supposed to reply to that.

“And you cried your eyes out, then left me standing there like an idiot.”

This morning, you’re sitting silently in a library with a notebook in front of you, trying to fathom how you could have done that to him. You wonder if he told anyone but you about that. You had spoken with your mother about marriage not long before he had proposed on Christmas Eve — you had agreed to marry him enthusiastically that day.

How is it that less than a month before, he could have asked you the same question, and your instinct was to run? — Not only to run, but to kiss another man. To spite Malcolm maybe. To act out. Whatever it was, you can’t pretend that it isn’t a relief to know that Bradley wasn’t the reason.

You hadn’t kissed him because he mattered, just because you were drunk and scared.

He’s standing at the end of the table now. Is long and wooden, not dissimilar to the one in the university library. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and faded blue jeans, speaking confidently in Italian to the restoration technician that you’re here to work with today.

This is one of the first pieces of actual research that the students have been allowed to engage in so far on this trip. You’re not thrilled about it. Trying to piece together some old man’s memoirs so that Bradley can write about it.

Bradley’s in a world of his own anyway, deep in conversation about what’s in front of him. Since he got here this morning, all that he has done in terms of being a teacher was to list eight roles and tell you to decide amongst each other who would be doing what.

Deemed the least intelligent by all of your peers simultaneously, you’re just the scribe. Taking notes on observations that they have, that Bradley could one day use when he writes about this. It’s bullshit, and it doesn’t seem fair, but you won’t argue with them on it. They already dislike you enough.

And you’re still reeling from last night. No wonder Malcolm wouldn’t speak to you for three days. No wonder he hadn’t followed you out into the snow. You’d just broken his heart.

The day of no work passes by exceptionally slowly. Your only reprieve is Pasquale, telling you stories about his mother’s farm. It’s not something that you would care much about if you were back home, but here, it’ll do.

“So, what do you think of Verona?” Pasquale asks as he flicks through an anthology. His role is more important than yours and he isn’t even here for a grade.

You shoot a look towards the end of the table and watch Bradley pull a loose pair of glasses from his pocket, setting them on the bridge of his nose and leaning closer to examine a text. He doesn’t even have a case for his glasses.

“I, uh — haven’t seen too much of it yet. I stayed in last night, and I’ve been here all day today.” You explain to him, tapping the end of your pen absently against the page.

Bradley takes the page carefully from the technician and frowns as he brings it closer to his face. When he’s serious, faint creases appear between his brows, his lips point down. His eyes narrow slightly.

“You really should. It’s the city of love, you know. You could find your husband a souvenir, maybe. When we have time off tomorrow.” Pasquale tells you with a big grin. You offer him a weak grin in return. You’re lucky to even have someone that wants to be your husband after what you did. Either way, Pasquale seems to like you.

He’s about the only person here that does.

That’s only confirmed later when Bradley steps out of the bathroom in a towel and finds Luke buttoning a salmon coloured Ralph Lauren button up.

“Going out?” Bradley questions, walking over to the desk for his cigarettes before he thinks about his clothes.

“Uh-huh. We’re all going for dinner in the city.” Luke confirms as Bradley scrunches his nose at the obnoxious cologne smell coming from that side of the room.

“All of you?” Bradley checks as he puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it. Luke scoffs, angling himself towards the awkwardly short mirror on their vanity. He rolls one sleeve up to his elbow and squints.

“I’m not inviting her. They’ll kill me.” He shakes his head, glancing over at Bradley and trying to remember how Bradley wears his button ups. Sleeves rolled, definitely.

“She wouldn’t be as bad if she had friends to keep her occupied.” Bradley notes, stepping into a pair of blue boxers and draping the damp towel over his shoulder, exhaling through the corner of his mouth.

“And I wish her the best of luck in finding some. It’s not gonna be me. Anyway, I have to go. See you later!” Luke pats Bradley’s bare shoulder and steps around him, heading for the door before they can discuss this further. It swings shut behind him.

Bradley sighs, leaning his head back towards the ceiling, the lit cigarette dangling between his index and middle fingers.

As much as he would like to avoid you after you’d thrown him off of you last night, the thought of you eating alone in your room just doesn’t sit right with him. Or, even worse, you venturing out by yourself.

The thought of last night makes him want to drive to the nearest beach, dig a reasonably sized hole, and bury his head in the sand. He’s never felt dirtier. The thought that he went further than you wanted him to.

The fact that you’re his student. He doesn’t do that. He isn’t one of the creeps that drools over the girls on campus. Christ, you’re the first girl he’s ever kissed that’s more than a year younger than him. He just needs to put it behind him.

So, he pulls on a pair of faded, light blue Levi’s 501s and a white button up that’s tolerably ironed, then heads up a flight of stairs and down the hall.

You flinch at the knocking on your door.

Bradley blinks as you tug it open moments later. Then, looks you slowly up and down. You’re wearing a cute button up pyjama set. He furrows his brows at you.

“It’s 6pm.” He points out disapprovingly. He really can’t help it. He could have told you that he actually thinks the little hearts on them are kind of cute.

“So? I don’t have anywhere to be.” You answer back, frowning up at him as always.

“Yeah. About that, uh — me either,” He’s trying not to be patronizing about this. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking pity on you. This isn’t necessarily pity. You also just started trying in his class and it would be a shame if you quit now. “Do you want to get dinner?”

“With you?” You gawk.

He shrugs. This is more awkward than he hoped it would be, but he can’t blame you after the way things went yesterday. “Yeah. Unless you know anyone else who’d like to join us.”

“I’ll get ready.” You decide quietly. He gives you a small nod and starts to step back.

“Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… twenty?”

It’s a good thing that he gets down there early, because so do you. You’re more dressed up than he was expecting, but then, so is he. His shirt doesn’t even have any wrinkles in it today.

Bradley looks you slowly up and down as you walk towards him. He doesn’t know what to call the style of dress you’re wearing. Thin straps that tie at the shoulders, a sweetheart neckline and a lightweight georgette fabric. You’re wearing a pretty necklace that compliments the neckline, elegantly small hoop earrings with pearl drops. Those are probably real pearls.

You’ve dressed the outfit down slightly with summery loafers instead of heels. All that does is make Bradley have to tip his chin down to look you in the eye when you’re up close.

“So. Do you know a place?” You exhale, hugging your purse closer to your body. It matches your shoes.

Bradley shakes his head dumbly.

“No,” He answers quietly. Then, he realizes he’s being ridiculous. He’s been on plenty of dates, there’s no reason to be nervous. Except this isn’t a date. Because you’re getting married. And you’re his student. He clears his throat like that will help clear the momentary fog in his brain. “No. But there are a tonne of places around here. We’ll find somewhere.”

The two of you step out into the still warm evening, the sun still pretty high overhead. It’s quiet out, quieter than when you had first arrived. It makes you feel exceptionally alone next to Bradley.

As the two of you walk in a painstakingly heavy silence, you consider briefly if you should apologize for calling him an animal yesterday. After all, you were the one to kiss him. But his hands are big, and they’re heavy, and you could feel them starting to trail along your skin.

You swallow at the thought, shooting a quick glance at the back of his head. His shoulders look wide, and strong, when he’s not wearing a shirt that’s a size too big. Not only could you feel his hands starting to roam, but his tongue too. That, you remember well.

It hadn’t been forceful, or even really too intrusive. Just like he would push his tongue out to wet his lips, he had pressed close to you and gently trailed his tongue along the seam of your lips. That hadn’t ever happened before. Malcolm doesn’t kiss like that. Really, he’s your only point of reference.

So, when Bradley’s tongue had flicked knowingly against your bottom lip, maybe you had parted them. Just a little bit. But then his tongue was in your mouth, trailing against your own and — nice girls don’t kiss like that. Not any nice girl that you’ve ever known anyway.

“How’s this place look?”

You’ve been following him blindly and daydreaming about his tongue long enough now that he has led you down a side street. Peach coloured stone buildings on either side, lanterns on the walls that aren’t lit yet and a string of mostly empty restaurants.

Bradley’s standing by one covered in plants. The awning is practically entirely green with foliage. The railings outside are the same, flowers tucked into small vases on each table. You’re surprised, honestly, that he picked it. It’s pretty.

You turn your head and he’s looking right at you. The first thing to cross your mind is his hands flexing around your waist, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

“This is fine.”

He doesn’t untuck your chair for you, but you wouldn’t have expected him too. This is the same man that would have happily had sex with a married woman on a balcony on a work trip. God, and you let him kiss you.

Bradley catches you grimacing at your menu. “What? — Not a fan of Italian food?”

You look quickly back up at him. There’s a caught look on your face that he can’t quite place. Like you’re waiting for him to tell you that you’re in trouble. “Huh? — No. I like Italian food. What are you getting?”

Bradley looks between you and the menu, wondering if he’ll ever get to a point where he understands you.

“Uh…” He has no idea. He hasn’t even read the menu, he’s just been looking at it so that he doesn’t have to look at you. He exhales. “Do you drink wine?”

Whether the wine helps is debatable. In terms of loosening the two of you up to the point that you can actually have a conversation without burning with embarrassment, it’s a great success. In terms of professionalism and keeping up with boundaries, it is not.

You’ve both eaten, you’ve finished an entire bottle of Malbec and you’re a glass and a have into the second bottle — and Bradley’s a lot funnier tonight than he is normally. There’s a connection between those two things, you’re sure.

Even if it’s just that he’s feeling relaxed enough to actually tell you something interesting about himself for once.

“I was taking a still life art class in Tuscany,” He brings the glass to his mouth and takes a drink of the sweet, red liquid. Relaxed back into the chair, it’s like you’re watching a movie star give an interview when he smiles at you. “Staying with a family outside of Siena. They had a daughter, Maria. She was about a year and a half older than I was, and um…”

He trails, biting his cheek as he sets the glass down on the white table cloth again. The candle flickers in its glass jar between you. With one leg crossed over the other, you’re watching him with your own glass sitting in your hand and a smile on your face. The pale blue of your dress makes your skin glow, your hair is tucked back on one side with a pearl barrette. Verona looks good on you.

Bradley chuckles and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, she — she taught me a lot.”

There’s a brief moment of sense where he sits back and pushes fingers through his curls, shaking his head. Where you can see it in his face that he’s telling himself that this isn’t right. You’re his student.. He exhales amusedly, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

He shouldn’t have had his tongue in your mouth yesterday.

“You can’t leave it on that cliffhanger! Come on, I won’t tell.” You grin across the table at him and he bites his lip, visibly grimacing at the memory.

You laugh at him, watching his cheeks turn red on the other side of the table. Breeze catches your hair and brushes it back off of your shoulders. Bradley feels himself grimacing as he thinks back to that time. He can’t believe he’s sharing this with you.

“Y’know, I was in the middle of the Italian countryside but this girl was… she was experienced enough long before I met her. But her father was the town’s butcher, and he had some livestock of his own, and one day Maria and I were… fooling around in the granary…”

“Oh my god, Bradley, no.” Your eyes go wide and you sit upright, breaking into a fit of laughter again. Red faced and reliving every moment of the embarrassment he had felt on that August day eleven years ago, he can’t help but laugh with you as he covers his face with his hands.

“He came after me with a meat cleaver, screaming about how I’d, uh, deflowered his little angioletto.” Bradley admits finally from behind his hands. Even with his face covered, that red blush is already spreading down his neck and onto his chest. You watch it go between the open buttons at the top of his white button up.

The sound of your laughter in front of him is the only thing that makes him pull his hands away from his face. He’s got to see the smile that goes with it. Blinking, he’s quiet for a moment. Candlelight from the lanterns overhead and from the table bathe you in a warm light. The centuries old buildings behind you. The smile on your face. He smiles back at you.

“You know what I find hardest to believe about that story?” You ask him, smiling as you lean forwards and set the wine glass down, propping your chin against your palm.

“What’s that?”

“That you were taking an art class for an entire summer.” It just seems so out of character. He’s all about facts and analysis, using sources to come to a conclusion. Sure, his focus is literature, but so far he hasn’t seemed especially creative.

Bradley chuckles, giving a quick shrug of his broad shoulders. “I can draw. I learned some interesting stuff, got kind of good. Painting… not so much. I failed that class.”

The admission makes your jaw go slack, eyes widening in excitement. He just sits back, lips quirked in amusement as you hit the table and point across at him.

“You hypocrite! Putting love before your studies!” You accuse, grinning at him. He laughs, really laughs, leaning his head back and shaking it at you. Your mind starts to wander in the absence of his eyes on you. Him, at your age. Here in this place, taking an art class.

Maybe the two of you would have liked each other. Maybe in another universe, you would be the kind of girl to be kissing him hard in a granary on a summer day.

“I wouldn’t call what Maria and I had love.” He’s still smiling as he makes the decision. If there was ever much of a decision to make in the first place. Bradley knows what being in love feels like, both in written fact and in personal terms. Head over heels, heart-thudding devotion.

“Sex. Putting sex before your studies.” You correct yourself, still grinning as you take a sip of the wine. Bradley watches your tongue leave your mouth to catch a droplet of the aged red intoxicant from your bottom lip. He studies you from the short distance between you. Sun kissed and with the kind of smile on your face that threatens to have you spilling over into laughter again any minute now.

There’s a small silence between the two of you. The bustle of Verona at night just a few streets away. The two of you, tucked away here. It feels private. Even with the wait staff, the few other guests, Bradley hasn’t looked at anything but you in a while now.

“I just don’t get it,” Bradley says softly, staring across at you like he’s searching for his answer on your face. On a good track to finishing this second bottle of wine, you take another drink from your glass and simply raise your eyebrows at him. “Why you’re waiting until you marry this guy.”

The wine sits on your tongue, still, as you blink at him. Shit. Bradley lifts his palm in defense. This is nice, the last thing he wants is to argue with you.

“It’s none of my business, I know — and it’s your decision. I just don’t get it.”

He watches you swallow the wine in your mouth and look down at your knees, silent for a moment. While you’re thinking, Bradley’s thinking too, of a million ways to apologize and change the topic as quickly as possible.

“There are two reasons.” You tell him quietly, sounding uncertain in yourself already. Bradley’s watching you intently when you look up. “But if you tell anyone then I’ll call you a liar to your face and make this entire trip hell for you. Understood?”

His lips twitch, almost smiling. “Understood.”

“The first reason is that it’s what’s expected of me. I’m a nice girl, from a nice family and nice girls don’t have bad reputations.”

“Having sex with your long-term boyfriend would give you a bad reputation?” Bradley questions, brows drawing together. It’s times like these that you believe he grew up in California. He doesn’t understand the social lives of these North-Eastern socialite mothers.

“Yes.” You deadpan, sitting up a little bit straighter. “And the second reason is that we tried, once. And never again since.”

“Tried.” Bradley repeats to you, squinting his eyes slightly. He mulls over the word, then wets his lips with his tongue. He’s preparing to speak again.

You beat him to it, giving a calm shrug. “We were eighteen. I wasn’t the problem. That’s all I’ll say.”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. Your hot shit boyfriend couldn’t keep it up. Bradley’s smart enough not to say anything else on the matter, and instead asks you how you’re liking the book that Pasquale gave you. The two of you finish the bottle of wine in polite conversation.

Bradley calls the waiter over and asks for the bill. It sounds like he’s polite about it. Once it has been set down between the two of you, you’re both quick to reach for your wallets.

“I’ve got it.” Bradley waves you off, opening up a brown leather wallet. You look at him through your lashes, squinting dubiously.

“Since when are you a gentleman?” You play, lips quirked. A week ago, this would have started an argument. Maybe you’re growing on him. He just smiles and shoots you a quick wink, dropping the notes onto the bill.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He jokes back, starting to close his wallet on the other side of the table.

“What’s that picture in your wallet?” Your eyes linger on the black and white photo booth picture in his phone. Bradley’s gaze shoots between the picture and you. He pulls it from the sleeve and passes it across the table to you.

Briefly, your eyes widen. The man in the picture looks so much like Bradley that you think the woman in the picture must be an ex. And then you look across to the woman, and somehow he looks even more like her than he does the man.

He watches your lips quirk softly into a smile as you inspect the grainy picture. No explanation needed, you know exactly who they are.

“You look like your mom.” You tell him gently. Her blonde hair is settled into short curls in the picture, the man at her side is practically beaming. He looks happy in a way you’ve never seen Bradley match, maybe that’s it.

“Really? — Most people say I look like my dad.” He comments, resting his forearms on the table to lean over and examine the photo for himself. You smile at him, lifting the picture up and holding it next to his face.

There’s a brief quiet between the two of you. Bradley’s still, trying to keep his face neutral as you study the differences. His lips twitch. The serious look on your face just makes him smile. Once he’s smiling, your decision is made.

“You do,” You nod, glancing between him and the picture. “You’ve got your mom’s lips. And her eyes, I think. She’s really pretty.”

You look up, picture still between your index and thumb. He’s pretty. Tanned from days strolling around northern Italy, the golden colour to his skin just makes his freckles more pronounced. It makes his eyes less dark, more of a golden honey colour. Everything, just a little bit warmer.

Bradley’s silent for a moment, watching you watch him. You can see the idea cross his mind. He smiles and reaches out for his picture back, pushing up from the table as he sets it into the wallet.

“You want to see something cool?” He pushes the wallet back into the pocket of his faded blue jeans and the look in his eye tells you that this night is far from over.

Your instinct should probably be to reconcile with your fiancé. To apologize, maybe. But, Malcolm told you to come back with stories to tell, and hiding in your hotel room isn’t much of a story.

The smile on your face is answer enough, Bradley nudges his elbow into yours and rests his hand against the small of your back to guide you in the right direction.

“It’s not that far, I promise. Across the bridge and up some steps.” Bradley tells you, dropping his hand from your back once you’re walking at his side.

He’s right. It’s really not that long of a walk at all. Not with him being your tour guide every step of the way. He walks you across the Ponte Pietra, which is a stone bridge built in 100 BC, making it the oldest bridge in Verona.

From there, it’s a short walk through some more paved streets and up some steps to the Castel San Pietro. Of course, not without first hearing a brief recount of its history. Bradley doesn’t really know much about this spot, much more than he has picked up as a visitor in past visits anyway.

Still, he’s a firm believer in leaving a girl impressed on the first date. He’s able to answer every single one of your questions with ease. As he had hoped, you sit at his side on a stone wall, facing the city, impressed.

It’s after a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you that you ask him a question of your own.

“Do you believe in fate?” Your cheek presses into the muscle of his shoulder, staring out over the lights of the city. Bradley exhales an amused noise from beside you. Like the notion itself is something to laugh at.

“No. Do you?”

“I haven’t made my mind up yet,” You tell him, kicking your feet just slightly. There’s more of a breeze up here, a slight chill now that the sun is down. “Plenty of intelligent people believe in fate.”

He nods at your side. “Of course.”

“Shakespeare did. Romeo and Juliet’s all about fate.”

He makes a sound, but doesn’t shake his head. “It’s about human will and making the wrong choice.”

Bradley has a way of replying when it comes to discussions like this that makes it sound like he’s correcting you when he’s just stating his opinion. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead lift your head to look at him.

“Okay, so the prologue of the play tells the audience exactly what’s going to happen. It doesn’t just foreshadow, it explicitly tells us that the two families hate each other and that the lovers will die. Right?”

“Right.” He confirms to you with a brief nod.

“‘Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife’. The feud would never have ended if they weren’t to fall in love and die. The entire structure of the play is this tragic fate that neither one can escape from.”

Bradley’s eyes flicker over your face. He turns his head towards the city and smiles. “I know. I wanted you to explain it and I feel like I can’t get a straight answer from you unless I piss you off sometimes.”

Your mouth gapes. Bradley flinches as you jab a finger into his ribs and laugh at his side, making him turn back towards you grinning. He chuckles along, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you just quoted Shakespeare at me. I’ve been busting my balls trying to get you a C in my class and you’ve got passages from Shakespeare memorized.” He muses. When he turns his attention back to the city this time, he leans back on his palms to observe it. Your cheek presses softly into his shoulder once more.

He feels you squeeze closer to him for warmth.

“My grades weren’t ever bad. I still got into an Ivy League. I’m not dumb.” It’s playful in the way that you say it, but you’re not joking.

“No, you’re not dumb.” Bradley agrees. You’re just wasting your potential on being nothing but that kid’s wife. He keeps his mouth shut. Even though the two bottles of wine are telling him that you need to hear it, he’s got enough sense not to.

Bradley lifts his palm and drapes his arm around your shoulder. You shift closer, pressing into the warmth of his torso. Silently, the two of you look out over the city.

You set the curve in your English literature classes once upon a time. Back when you were still trying. Your work was showcased at school fundraisers. It’s easy to convince yourself that you have wholeheartedly believed in every decision you have made so far. That at this age, you have no regrets.

If that were true, you would have been happy the first time that Malcolm had proposed. You wouldn’t have kissed Bradley. You wouldn’t have done it again yesterday.

This doesn’t feel like the right decision either. It can’t be, when it would cost you everything back home.

A light turning on in a bedroom across the river catches your eye. From here, you can’t see much other than her silhouette. A woman, changing alone in her room.

Turning your attention instead towards the sky, you think about the fate Shakespeare wrote about. Ill-fated love that ultimately leads to death, but is inevitable.

Malcolm wouldn’t lead you to your death. Life with him would be safe and comfortable. Close to home with a pleasant income — in-laws that get along with your parents just fine. And yet, that fate does nothing but make your heartbeat thud in your ears.

“You know that Shakespeare wasn’t the first to write about the Montagues and the Capulets?” Bradley interrupts the silence and almost makes you jump out of your skin. Your fiddle with your cuticles, staring down at your knees.

“Really?”

“Dante.” Bradley answers quietly. “This poem he wrote in the fourteenth century that he wrote, the Divine Comedy, he wrote about two warring Italian families. The Montagues and the Capulets.”

His thumb strokes softly at your shoulder as he nods his head. “Like two hundred and fifty years before Shakespeare did.”

“So?”

“So?” Bradley scoffs, pulling his arm back from your shoulder and squeezing playfully at the nape of your neck. You turn and find him looking at you. Your lips twitch. “So, I’m sharing a fun fact with you. So. You’ve got an attitude, you know that?”

The sun is down now and the thin tie straps, the soft georgette fabric, neither does much to ward the chill of the evening air from up where you’re sitting. Even pressed into Bradley’s side, the cold grazes you suddenly and makes you shiver.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He squeezes your nape playfully once more and gestures his head back the way you had come. Standing up, he almost drapes his arm around your shoulder again out of instinct. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his faded Levi’s.

Neither one of you really says anything, but the walk is far from quiet. It’s like he can hear you thinking. The soles of your cream coloured loafers are quiet along the paved streets, you trail just slightly behind him. He knows you’re just taking in the scenery, but it’s not in his nature to let someone walk alone in a foreign city after dark. He finds himself slowing to the point that he’s dawdling by your side.

“You know we have three more days here, right?” He tells you.

“I know, it’s just pretty,” You answer back, not bothering to turn your gaze back towards him. He watches you taking everything in. “Why, you have somewhere to be?”

“No, but you’re cold.” Bradley points out.

You just roll your eyes and stop walking to correct him. He bumps his shoulder into yours and grabs either side of your waist with both hands, guiding you abruptly forwards.

“Don’t argue. You’re shivering.” He leans forward to tell you softly. Biting your cheek, you push your elbow back into his stomach. He scoffs and nudges you forwards again. His hands are still on your waist when he’s guiding you through the hotel lobby and up the stairs.

Your floor is one up from his, but neither one of you says a word when he skips his all together and keeps walking. Bradley wouldn’t dare call this a date, but he has never let a woman walk home alone after a first date. He walks you to your door wordlessly.

As he opens his mouth to thank you, and tell you goodnight, he watches you pluck the silver key from your bag and push it into the lock. The latch clicks compliantly and you walk inside, leaving it open behind you. Bradley glances down at the threshold, and back at you.

“Here,” You breathe out, crossing to the small dressing table in the corner and picking up the sheets of lined paper there. Bradley rests his forearm against the doorframe, apparently taking the vampire approach after his overstep yesterday. “I finished the practice exam.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He blinks. The expectation is that you’ll turn and bring the paper over to him any second now. Instead, you turn your head and look at him over your shoulder.

“Are you going to come look?”

Fuck. Bradley nods. He swallows and dips his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he walks inside, a silent reminder to keep his hands to himself. You had told him no yesterday, and one mistake is more than enough. He’s old enough to know better.

His shoulder brushes yours as he leans around you to get a look at the paper. Reaching out, he rests his thumb beside the line that the first question begins. Glancing back, you watch his eyes scan the paper for a few moments.

“The first three are right.” Bradley notes. All that he can focus on is your perfume. The sweet notes, the expensive, layered undertones. You turn towards him, sitting down on the edge of the vanity. He swallows.

“When you failed that art class, did you know you were going to fail it?” You ask him. It’s eating you up, the thought that this might all be for nothing. You don’t know what you’ll do if you fail again. This time, it’ll hurt that much more. It’s one thing to fail because you hadn’t even attended. To fail after you have actually tried, that’s another thing entirely.

“Yeah.” Bradley breathes out, offering you a smile. He nods his head just to provide additional confirmation. “I couldn’t even paint a sunflower. I knew.”

For once, he doesn’t take a shot at the effort you’ve put into this class. You’re trying. He sees that.

“But you could draw.” You recite back to him.

“Yeah.” Bradley smiles. The top three buttons on his shirt are undone, you can see that he’s still wearing that gold necklace. His father’s necklace, his dad is wearing it in that photo. His cheeks are terracotta red, warm.

“Could you draw me?” Maybe it’s not the best effort at flirting, but you don’t have much experience with that. Your first kiss was with the man that you intend to marry. You shouldn’t flirt with him. Most days you’d rather hit him than kiss him.

But, your bed is right behind him and yesterday he had you pressed into that mattress by a fraction of his weight, and his hands on your waist, in your hair. You inhale softly, met with the increasingly familiar scent of his cologne.

Bradley doesn’t touch you, but he might as well have. His hand curls around the vanity beside your knee. He leans in just a little closer and gives a small shake of his head, smiling like something’s funny. “Sorry, honey, my specialty was human form. Posing nude.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, see how old-fashioned you really are. Maybe you’re growing used to that by now, it doesn’t take you a second to come up with a comeback.

“Did Maria teach you that?”

Bradley’s eyes don’t move, staring right at you with that smirk on his face still. He chuckles softly, then taps your knee softly. “Alright. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you—“

“Wait,” You close your eyes and ransack your brain looking for what comes next. You know he’s still standing there, you can’t hear him moving. “What, um, what did she teach you?”

Bradley’s not stupid. Nor is he oblivious to the fact that for one reason or another, women seem to like him. He’s used to being flirted with. And he knows exactly what you’re asking of him. He’s smart enough not to tell you that the things he did with Maria would have you clutching your pearls.

Still, he’s not going to tell you no. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he looks downwards at your knees politely pressed together. Bradley reaches out tentatively, glancing up at your face as he curls his fingers into the hollow of your knee. Your eyes are just on his face, compliant as he tugs your leg just slightly to the side to make room for him to step closer.

Between your knees now, Bradley’s hand abandons your leg. He brings both up to cup your jaw, angling your head so that you’re looking up at him. He exhales softly. You close your eyes in anticipation. He doesn’t keep you waiting long.

He leans in close and kisses you softly, tenderly. Nothing like yesterday. It’s slow, just his lips on yours. Once more, another. Then, he pulls back and gently strokes his thumbs across each of your cheeks.

He swallows softly, opening his eyes. His intention is to search your face for doubt, annoyance — whatever had caused your freak out yesterday. His mouth twitches. Your eyes remain closed, lips pursed ever so slightly, waiting for him to kiss you again.

You lift your hands cautiously from your sides, resting them against his stomach over the cotton of his button up. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands keep your face exactly where he wants it as yours ball loosely into the fabric of his shirt.

This time when he pulls back, you chase after him, a small sound slipping your lips. Bradley bites his cheek, tenderly tracing over your jaw, reminding himself to be polite.

“You really want me to show you more?” He murmurs, lips grazing your cheek. Your daren’t open your eyes, fearing that it will give away your entire being. If you look at him, he’ll be able to tell how much your heart is pounding in your chest.

He’s already got a good idea, given the fact that you still haven’t uncurled your hands from his shirt.

“Mhm.” You manage, quiet.

He leans forwards once more and kisses you again, soft, slow. You lean into him, fighting a frown as he pulls away all too soon.

“Open your mouth, just a little, sit still.” With your eyes closed, all you’ve got is his voice. You’re okay with that. It still makes you shiver. You obey, parting your lips just a fraction.

Bradley’s eyes fall down to your lips. He blinks, studying the plush skin. But again, he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He presses closer, as close as he can get to the vanity, and tilts his head just slightly. He kisses your bottom lip, trailing it with his tongue this time.

Your thighs bracket his as you try to press them together. The next kiss he comes in for, it’s the same thing. His tongue doesn’t dare venture into your mouth, or brush yours. He’s just teasing you.

His hands are still cupping your jaw, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Then, finally, he kisses you again, deeper this time. His tongue dips just a bit further, slowly, gradually.

You’re taking the sit still instruction a little bit too literally.

“Copy what I’m doing. Just slowly, like that.” He mumbles against your mouth, his lips on yours again the second that he’s done speaking. Slowly, gradually, and his tongue touches yours once more.

It strokes along the tip of yours and curls just slightly. Nothing to complex to keep up with. One of his hands slides from your jaw to the nape of your neck, sliding his fingers into your roots.

Your tongue lets his do most of the work. He’s surprised when you’re brave enough to actually copy him and curl the tip of your tongue into his. All too soon, he pulls back and goes right back to the pecking. More urgent this time, still he finds time to be tender. Soft, with you.

And yet, you pull away from him with a soft frown.

“What? — What’s the matter?” Bradley’s face creases with concern, his thumb swiping softly over your jaw as he looks for the answer on your face.

“You stopped. Was I doing it wrong?” You ask meekly.

He almost smiles, but decides against it. A sincere shake of his head works instead. He leans in and kisses you once. “No. No, you weren’t doing it wrong. I just… like to go between tongue and no tongue, I guess.”

Bradley sounds uncertain. He hasn’t ever had to explain himself like this before. This is clearly a foreign process to the both of you.

“Okay.” You breathe out. As long as you’ve got the hang of it, you like the sound of that too. You sit upright, stretching up to kiss him again. Bradley leans down. You are rendered silent once more as he kisses your forehead.

“I should go.” Before this goes any further. Before you ask me for more, because I’m really not sure I could say no. Bradley blinks as you look up at him. He almost leans in one last time.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, barely a whisper. He’s more than close enough to hear you perfectly. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest. “Okay.”

He swallows. “I… I had a really nice time with you tonight. Thank you.”

You’re acutely aware that he still has one of those giant paws of his on the back of your neck. That he’s still standing between your knees. That he’s close enough to kiss if you reached for him.

“So did I.” You answer.

Bradley trails his thumb down until he reaches the top of your spine. He finally lets go, dropping his hand back down to his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right.” You agree, curling your fingers around the edge of the vanity as he takes a step away from you. Bradley offers you a small smile, and takes another big step.

And you leave it at that. He leaves, closing the door to your hotel room behind him, wandering back down to his own room. He should probably feel guilty.

Any guilt that he should feel hasn’t hit him yet. It won’t. If it doesn’t go any further than teaching you what french kissing is — then, what’s there to be guilty about?

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[spotsandsocks]

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

Tagged by (and I might have missed some people sorry) @exhuastedpigeon @jamespearce9-1-1 @heartshapedvows @thekristen999 @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @wikiangela

Links to all 23 fics I’ve written which I’ve just realised coincidentally matches the year maybe I shouldn’t work on that Christmas fic after all 🤔 All under the cut cos that’s quite a few and your dash does not need to be bothered by that! 😆😆 I will forget to tag someone I know it, so if I do I didn’t really and you’re tagged too cos you’re wonderful

💕💜💕Thank you to each and everyone of you who talks to me, tags me, supports and encourages me, reblogs and likes. Sends asks and questions and prompts and love in my direction. Thank you for sharing your time, talents , your words and creative skills with us all. You make my days brighter and more fun. I adore you all and wish you all a happy kind and peaceful 2024. 💕💜💕

January

Home Wanted 6k established Buddie new pet based shenanigans 🐀🐁🐀

Could Have Should Have Would Have 3k my biggest hit this year angsty then sweet

Who You Gonna Call? 9k Eddie calls Buck and works out how he feels

February

This Must Be Love 5.7k fluffy valentines fic featuring pea puns 🫛

March

Just another minute 1.2k 6x10 spec

No Place 8.4k coma!buck spec fic with a few similarities to what we got actually

It's Such A Feeling 1.8k couldn’t remember but apparently hand appreciation fic that gets smutty 😉

April

Date Night 2k I got stuck on bus for almost 3 hours and this happened - surprisingly popular considering I had no plans to write it until traffic hit!

The Answer I Needed 2.4k Buck is always there for Eddie 5plus 1 across time till love strikes

Always There 1.6k Tía Pepa sees all at Christopher’s birthday party

May

Everything But (temptation) 4.7 5plus 1 of Eddie being a flirty tease and driving Buck crazy

Worth the wait5.7 same fic but from Buck’s perspective

July

Good Knight Sweet Prince 167,316k ahh my best beloved started in 2023 and finished this year. I adored writing and sharing this what turned out to be epic length fantasy au. Knights princes dragons thwarted love and a happy ending what can I say if that’s your thing give it a go.

Let me stay by your fire (for nothing warms me like you do)4.5k couldn’t let go of mediaeval theme so knight Buck this time coming home to his blacksmith friend Eddie. Oh and bees. 🐝

August

Something Worth Staying For 21k an enemies to lover (although not really enemies) small town newspaper au where Buck turns up and Eddie hates him until he doesn’t. Featuring my real life computer disaster 😆

Tied To You From The Start 13.4k a challenge I took on and did rather well if I say so myself 😆😆 paranormal mysterious shenanigans. Buck in peril and on the run Eddie trying to save him from his own self sacraments and hot sex.

September

The Comfort of Your Hands 2.9k inspired by an anon talking about Eddie running fingers through Bucks hair. No plans for this one it just happened and again was well received. Maybe I should stop planning fics and just see what happens.

October

The Price of Love (is high) 7.7k autumnangstfest drama. I put them both through it. All past traumas coming back to cause trouble.

Your heart or mine? Yours every time 3.6k a hungry vampire!Buck and Eddie get stuck in a lift … things occur

November

100 word fics added a short fic to this little collection i actually love doing these. It’s a great challenge

Only one answer 590 couldn’t remember.. had a look and went oh yeah that was cute. Proposal fic in under 600 words

In my defence I was left unsupervised 1.3k Buck gets bored with sissors Eddie likes the results … who could resist buzz but Buck… not Eddie it seems

Nov/Dec

The Lost and The Found wip 5/10 48k this was not meant to be this long but guess what.. got carried away and plot is plotting and demands around 100,000 at least in the end I suspect. 5 chapters out number 6and 7 before Christmas this counts as 2023 doesn’t it? Come join me for the ride

@daffi-990 @shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @the-likesofus @stagefoureddiediaz @yelenasbuddie @hoodie-buck @buddierights @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @ronordmann @caroandcats @spaceprincessem @disasterbuckdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @housewifebuck @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @elvensorceress @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @wh0re-behavi0r @princessfbi @jacksadventuresinwriting @ci5mates @katries @megsvstheworld @like-the-rest-of-la

[jaozendry]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL: Holidays with Gar

Pairing: Garfield Logan x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: On the 25th of December, your siblings are left alone back home. Your parents ask you to babysit them. Gar decides to ditch the Titans' Christmas party and accompany you on this special night.

Author's note: merry christmassssss <33 (i love gar)

______________________________________________________________

"I have a party tonight, you know that? Isn't there another way?" you say on the phone. Gar clearly notices that something is wrong and approaches you, waiting for the call to end. "I have to go. Yeah, don't worry, I'll be there at 5. Love you too." you say before sighing and hanging up the phone. "What's up?" Gar asks, hands in his pocket. "Oh, nothing." you reply, leaning against the wall. "It's just that my parents are going out and they need me to babysit my siblings." Gar raises an eyebrow. "How old are they?" he asks while you sigh. "One of them's 8, the other's 5. I can't leave them alone." you reply, checking the time. "Ugh, I have to go. It takes almost an hour to go to my house." you sigh. "Tell Dick I won't be able to make it tonight."

Gar puts his hand out of his pocket and caresses your arm. "You know what? Make that two." he adds, earning a giggle from you. "I'm sure you don't want to hang out with me and my annoying siblings on Christmas." He takes you by the hips, turning your frown upside down. "Maybe I do." he whispers. "I'll tell Dick we'll be going out for the night." he adds before breaking away from you. "God, I love you." you tell him, smirking. "I know you do." he replies while heading to the living room.

______________________________________________________________

"What's in the bag?" you ask Gar while sitting in the passenger seat. "Oh, just money and food." he repiles while driving. "We both know that's BS, Garfield Logan. Come on, what's really in the bag?" you ask, playfully hitting his arm. "It's a surprise." he replies, smirking, before you scoff sarcastically.

"You know you don't have to come, right? You can have fun with the rest of the Titans tonight." you explain. He reassures you: "I can't have fun without you. Honestly, I'd rather be with you and your siblings tonight." You blush a little and immediately look at the window.

"Are the gifts in the back for your siblings?" he asks. "Yeah." He looks at you, waiting on a red light: "Who's the third one for, then?" he asks, smirking. You giggle. "It's... for my mom." you reply, still laughing softly. "Mhm, mhm." he adds sarcastically when the light turns green.

______________________________________________________________

"Y/N!" a little girl screams while running at you and hugging you. "Heyyy, where's your brother?" you ask your little sister. "He's in the kitchen with mom." she replies. "I just gotta go talk with mommy and then we can play together."

You turn to Gar. "Why don't you get to know Gar over there?" you add, pointing at him while Gar jokingly stares you down. Your little sister runs to Gar while you head to the kitchen.

______________________________________________________________

"Alright, so we'll come back at around midnight, just get them something to eat and it's bedtime by 8." your mom says, packing her purse. "Also, take care of him. He's kind of cute." You giggle. "I know, mom. I got it. Have fun." you say before your parents leave for the night.

You close the door behind you and turn to Gar. "So, what now, Tiger Boy?" He laughs. "I guess we can hang out with your siblings?" he proposes. You laugh. "You did this to yourself, Logan. Alright, go play some video games with them while I make a snack." He crosses his arm while smiling in confusion. "I did not sign up to play with your siblings, did I?" You turn around a jokingly hit his arm. "You wanted to come, didn't you?"

He shakes his head while smiling. "Alright. Just for you." he says after kissing you on the forehead.

______________________________________________________________

Gar turns to you while you walk down the stairs after putting your siblings to bed. "So what, we have a whole four hours just to us now?" You giggle and feel his abs. "I guess we do." He blushes a little and reaches in for a kiss.

"I gotta give you something." you say after the kiss. You stand up and pick up a gift bag. "I thought that was for your mom." he teases. "That one is in my room. I was going to give it to you during the party, but here we are." He giggles and takes your hand. "Thank you, Y/N." You smirk at him. "I know, I'm amazing."

He stands up and picks up his bag. "Well, since we're at it, here's yours." You tilt your head and tease him: "I thought there was money and food in there." He opens his bag and takes a wrapped gift out of it. "I'm not the only one with secrets." he whispers while sitting down. "Here." he says while handing to you the gift. You open it up and a brand new computer reveals itself before you. "Since when did you know my computer broke?" you ask while smiling like a complete idiot. "Rachel told me." he adds. "This. Is. Amazing." you look at him, your eyes lighting up like fireworks. "Thank you." you say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He caresses your face before grabbing his gift. "All right, it's not as amazing as a new computer, I'll give you that." He looks back at you while opening up the gift bag. "If it's from you, it's amazing." He pulls out a green hoodie from the bag. "Look at the back." you tell him while he does just so. "It's our initials. In a heart. And there's also your paw symbol on the sleeve." His eyes light up. "How- how did you do this?" You giggle. "I've got some sewing skills." He laughs and hugs you. "This is amazing, Y/N." You hug him back and the two of you go on for a few seconds. He immediately puts on the hoodie and takes your hand. "Thank you. So much." You reach in for a kiss. "Merry Christmas, Gar."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N. This is the best Christmas ever."

[slowburningechoes]

Me again 😜

Can I get uh virgin spencer that admits he’s a virgin at truth or dare and then sees the reader naked for the first time by accident at like a Christmas party at readers house and then read they make love while lovers rock by tv girl plays in the back preferably on vinyl with pet names like love and praise kinks and some soft sex

Love you fr merry Christmas 🙏🏽🙏🏽

merry christmas to you as well! full bau christmas party + 1 on 1 spencer goodness here we go! i included the song in your other request since it felt more fitting, but this title is a lyric from baby its cold outside! cw: virgin!spencer x bau!reader, exhibitionism, praise, oral sex (f & m), love making, unprotected sex (safety first pls), piv intercourse, loss of virginity word count: 3.4k

bound to be talk ❆

"You seriously want to play 'truth or dare', Derek? How old are you again?" you tease, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

"Hey, now! I just figured it'd be a good way for all of us to get to know the newest member of our team and for you to get to know us," Derek responded, raising his eyebrows as he sipped his old fashioned that Rossi had made.

Emily rolled her eyes before sitting her glass down on the coffee table, "Oh, what the hell. Let's do it.”

You were suddenly glad you bought extra lounge chairs for the living room when you moved in three months ago, but it still wasn't enough for all seven members of your team, which left Spencer and you seated on the carpet.

"Who better to start with than the hostess herself?" Rossi insisted, winking at you playfully.

Penelope cozied into the couch and agreed excitedly, "Yes! Yes! Truth or dare, y/n?"

You ponder for a moment, anxiously considering whether it would be better to risk having to do something proposed from the mind of the ever creative and chaotic Penelope Garcia or spill potentially your deepest darkest secrets. "Truth." Who knows what she would come up with for a dare?

"Hmmm... who do find most attractive on the team? Be honest... as long as its not Chocolate Thunder here," she jokes, patting on Derek's thigh beside her.

"Play nice, hot stuff," Derek warned, pulling her closer to him.

"So?" Penelope inquires, not forgetting her original question.

You look around the room and see your teammates eagerly waiting for an answer, a very tipsy JJ trying to hold her giggle back against the rim of her wine glass. Spencer, seated next to you, was the only one not staring at you as he tapped his fingers across his thigh.

All eyes on you, your heart begins to beat a little faster and you blurt out your answer, "I think I'd have to choose... Spencer."

The room bursted into suggestive "ooo"s and teasing comments from everyone except Hotch who observed with a half grin on his face.

"Get 'em, pretty boy!" Derek hollered, raising his glass to cheers Spencer but he did not reciprocate.

Spencer's face was flushed a bright pink and he dodged everyone's eye contact with a bashful look.

"Why don't you give him a kiss?" Emily suggests, half out-of-it from all the red wine.

"No," you oppose, trying to play off the whole situation as Penelope started to motion in agreement with the suggestion. "No, you can't do a truth and a dare in the same turn!"

Penelope sighed, "Fiiiineee. Reid is next!"

"Truth," he lets slip before the game's question can be asked, not wanting to play into the kissing dare.

"How's that love life of yours going, then, Reid?" Derek proposes in a joking tone. "Get laid yet?"

"I-," is all Spencer can say.

"Come on, Morgan, don't be mean!" JJ insisted, slapping Derek on the shoulder.

"I'm not! I genuinely want to know!" he argued back. "Maybe our new friend could help him out."

"Derek!" you scoff before looking back towards Spencer who had pulled his knees up to his chest and under his chin. "How about a different question, hm?"

"No - no, I'll answer," Spencer mumbles, just loud enough to hear. "No, I haven't. I'm just waiting for someone... special."

"Oh, well that's sweet, pretty boy," Derek chuckles.

"Not everyone wants to have a different woman every night," you say.

"You callin' me a dog?" he responds, surprised by your assumption.

"Not at all, just some people have more feelings tied to sex than you do."

The game continued without another tense moment, but Spencer remained quiet through most of it - practically taking himself out of the game entirely. You were worried about him. Even in the short time you'd known him, you had never seen him be so reserved, only exchanging brief words with Hotch before he left the party early to be with Jack. He even downed an old fashioned when he hated liquor. The rest of the team was too tipsy to acknowledge the changes in his behavior, but you were sober enough to still be observant. As the party began to wind down and your teammates flowed out of your apartment to catch an Uber home, you decided to go ahead and change into your nightwear.

Your room was dimly lit as you entered it and placed the needle down to play your Christmas Essentials vinyl. You were relieved to be getting out of your dress as you unzipped it. You shimmied the dark red fabric down your body and kicked it off from your ankles. As you worked down your festive tartan cheeky underwear down your thighs, your bedroom door suddenly swung open.

Shocked, you attempt to cover yourself before even looking to the doorway, grabbing your emerald silk robe beside the mirror and draping around you. But your attempt was in vain, there, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, was Spencer. You both stood there for a moment, looking at one another and then at your body and back up again.

"I-I'm so sorry, y/n," he babbled. "I thought this was the door to the bathroom. "I thought this was the door to the bathroom."

"Oh, t-that's alright. Its the one on the other side of the hall," you point to the door opposite yours.

But he didn't move. It was almost like he couldn't, like his feet were glued to the floor.

"Are you alright?" you ask, moving closer to him. Your step made him take one backwards. "Spencer..."

"Yeah, I uhm - I should really get going. I'm sorry again," he rambles, turning to head back down the hallway and towards the door.

"Wait," you lean forward and wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling him into your room. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Spencer didn't speak for a moment, actively trying not to stare, darting his eyes from your face and to the ground frequently.

"It's nothing - really," he attempts to reassure you, cracking a fake half-smile.

"You can't lie to a profiler, Reid," you tease, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He was quiet once again and then glanced down at the hand you had placed on him.

"It was about Derek's question earlier," Spencer mutters. "T-thank you for what you said... sometimes its hard to talk about."

"It was nothing," you smile. "I understand how you feel. I'm not much for hookup culture, either."

"No," he looks down again, avoiding your eye line. "I don't think you fully understand - I'm a... a virgin."

You were surprised to hear that Spencer was a virgin - after all, you did choose him as the team member you were most attracted to. Despite his awkward nature and his tendency to ramble, you were shocked no one found them as endearing (and a turn on) as you did.

His insecurity was visible as his strong shoulder shrugged inwards and he chewed lightly on the inside of his mouth.

"Spencer," you move your hand to cup the side of his face, bringing his golden brown eyes to meet yours, "that's nothing to be ashamed about."

He placed his large hand on top of yours. "I know - it's just a little embarrassing to talk about with the team... especially Derek."

"Well, it shouldn't be. I know I haven't been around long, but I hope you feel safe talking about these kinds of things with me," you said.

"I do, actually -," Spencer began, leading your eyes to widen with anticipation, "I - no, no... nevermind, its stupid."

"That doesn't seem like you feel as comfortable as you say," you say matter-of-factly, raising your eyebrows.

Spencer hesitated, but began again, "I do feel safe around you - in general, not just talking with you after all these months. And I find you attractive as well - maybe Derek's suggestion wasn't so ludicrous..."

You caught on to where his rambling was heading and you reached up on your tiptoes to bring him in for a deep kiss. Spencer's entire body went stiff for a moment from the unexpected contact, but eventually you felt him relax under your touch, his hands moving down to lightly grasp against your waist.

"I don't think it was," you respond as you pull away from his lips.

"Please don't stop kissing me," Spencer mumbled, leaning down and bringing you back in desperately, his mouth parting slightly and slipping his tongue in methodically. This elicits an unconscious moan to escape your lips. "God, make that sound again." So you do, which intensifies your exchange of kisses.

You find your hands beginning to unbutton his white and green plaid button down before you can consciously make the decision. You stop yourself for a moment to ask, "I-is this okay?"

"Y-yes," Spencer whispers breathlessly against your cheek. "Yes, please."

You oblige, continuing to strip away his top until his bare soft chest was in front of you. You placed your hands against it as you kissed him harder and pushed him down on your bed. As his eyes opened, you began to untie the silk ribbon that held your robe together.

"Y-you don't have to," Spencer said, looking up at you with wishful eyes. "If you don't want to."

"Oh, Reid," you utter softly, slipping a shoulder of your robe off. "I really, really want to."

With the drop of the other shoulder, you stood beside the bed completely bare before him again and his look was the same as it had been in the doorway just a few minutes earlier - in awe.

"Your body is more beautiful than I could have imagined," he whispered, moving towards the edge of the bed. His fingers moved towards your body, but they lingered about an inch away from your breast as if he was nervous to touch you.

"You've imagined it, hm?" you smirk down at him, yielding another look of desperate need from him. "You can touch me, Spencer. Please touch me."

He doesn't need to be reminded again, placing one of his hands to cup your breast and thumbing over your hardened nipple. You groan at the stimulation and run your fingers through his hair. Before you can give him more directions, his mouth moves to wrap around your other breast, tongue swirling slowly around the same area that had motivated the moan from just seconds ago.

"Spencer," you whimper, tugging on his hair firmly but gently.

"Y-yes?" he said breathlessly, pulling away reluctantly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no - you're doing everything just right," you reassured, lifting his chin with your finger and thumb. "Just lay back."

He obeyed, leaning back onto your pile of pillows and propping himself up on his elbows. He still had his pants on, but you were quick to change that, working his belt off and undoing the button before Spencer kicked them off himself. His boxer briefs were strained from his bulge waiting to be freed. You looked up at him for permission and he nodded insistently. You worked them down, his impressive cock slapping up past his navel. The air hitting him suddenly caused him to grow harder and his head to throw back in anticipation.

"I'm going to take you in my mouth, okay?" you ask, wanting him to have a say so in every decision.

"Mmm, okay," Spencer managed to say through his want.

You cozy yourself in between his thighs and hover your lips above his shaft before licking a stripe up it. A guttural groan propelled from his throat and his dick twitched against his stomach. You roll your tongue around his swollen tip before closing your lips around him and working down his length.

"Holy shit," Spencer cries, reaching down to tangle his fingers into your hair. "T-that feels so good, y/n."

You hum in satisfaction against his length, causing a vibration to ripple down to his core and another feral moan to echo from him. You lower your mouth on him again and again at a pace that makes him latch onto the sheets as well, but you don't want him to finish just from your mouth so you pull off with a pop.

The lack of stimulation makes Spencer cry out pitifully and buck his hips upward.

"I'm sorry, baby," you comfort, caressing the side of his face. "I just want you inside of me."

"God - fuck," Spencer mewled, leaning up to kiss you fiercely on the lips before moving to trade places with you.

His body heat had kept the bed warm, allowing you to get cozy as he adjusted himself over you. He seemed reluctant to touch you at first, until you gave him instructions.

"Take two of your fingers and feel me," you suggest, guiding his hand down to your core.

The pads of his fingers opened your folds and ran up your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingers.

"Oh - oh my god, you're soaked," Spencer states, his eyes blown with lust.

"Do you like it?" you inquire and he nods enthusiastically. "Try a taste."

His eyes shoot up to look at you and his eyebrows lift up curiously. You grab the hand he used and bring it up to his lips. He catches on, parting them and taking the two fingers into his mouth. An audible moan of satisfaction is the result and it makes you even more aroused.

"Fuck - it's like nothing I've ever tasted before, but I love it," Spencer rambled, moving his face down to be level with your pussy and flattening his tongue against your core.

"Spencer - baby," you look down at him, stunned. "How did you know to-"

"Just because I'm a virgin doesn't mean I don't study, angel," he smirks up at you mischievously, before drawing his fingers up to your clit which made your toes curl. "And that there holds about 10,280 nerve endings just waiting to be stimulated."

"As much as I love your tangents, Dr. Reid, I need your mouth here," you motion to your aching center.

He doesn't say another word, going down to lap at your wetness. Spencer skillfully moved in between sucking your clit softly and massaging your entrance with his tongue, which made your legs squeeze around either side of his head. When he added fingers to the mix and began pumping into you, you grew closer and closer to coming but Spencer broke away before you could finish.

You whimpered with dissatisfaction before saying, "Are - are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Spencer rolled his eyes and moved up to become face-to-face with you. "Believe me, I haven't."

"Mmm, but your skills say otherwise."

"Like I said - studying," he flashed you a devious grin and began placing kisses down your neck.

"God, I can't believe the BAU's resident genius watches porn," you kid, trying not to fold to subconscious pleasure.

"Study, not watch - but that's beside the point." Spencer dismissed before reaching down and began to rub his cock along your slit, the tip rubbing against your clit perfectly.

You found your legs opening more and more for him as he pressed himself into you. You could tell by the size of him that it would take a moment to adjust, but the feeling of being stretched out so slowly was the most euphoric pain. Apparently he felt the same, muttering curse words under his breath and working deeper into you at an agonizingly slow pace. As he bottomed out, his tip brushed against your cervix gently which caused you both to moan loudly. Before either of you moved, Spencer intertwined his fingers with yours, locking the hand hold securely. As he made his first soft thrust, a wave of ecstasy flooded across your body. You felt as if you were melting into him and mending to become one.

"Y/n - angel, oh my god," Spencer calls out, gripping his other hand onto the headboard of the bed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he continued to pump into you deep and slow. This wasn't fucking, it was love making and it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Your body was numb with pleasure and all that consumed your thoughts was him. Sure, you'd thought of him sometimes when you touched yourself late at night or in the shower, but nothing was as all-consuming as this - as having him inside of you.

"Baby, you're doing so so good," you whimper, reassuring him.

"You feel amazing," he responded, his brow speckled with sweat. "I-I'm close, angel."

"You know - you can cum inside me," you whisper in his ear, before taking his earlobe between your teeth and nibbling lightly.

An unhinged groan escapes him at the thought of emptying himself in you. "F-fuck, really?"

You nod quickly and wrap your legs around his waist securely. "Mhm, I never miss a day."

Spencer thrusted into you deeper than he had so far, causing you to moan out his name loudly.

"Say my name again - please," he requested breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and his whimpers desperate.

"Mmm, oh god, Spencer. Cum for me, baby," you cry, your high approaching quickly as the curve of his dick hit your sensitive spot repetitively and with the perfect pressure. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer..." you begin to babble incoherently as your toes curl under and your hand squeezes tighter against his.

Your climax took over and you felt your walls close around his pulsing length, sending him into his own orgasm. His muscles tensed and he grunted lowly as he emptied himself inside of you, his cum providing the most satisfactory pressure you'd ever felt. You loved being full of him, even after he cautiously pulled out of you.

Spencer moved down to lay beside of you, bringing your head to rest against his bare and damp chest. His fingers ran through your hair and he hummed along to the record player, which was conveniently playing "Baby, It's Cold Outside".

"Would you want to... stay the night, maybe? It's already 1 am and it is pretty cold outside," you pose, glancing up at him with hopeful eyes.

A genuine smile forms on his face and he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I would love to, y/n."

Before you could respond, the infamous door swung open again and you gathered the comforter up higher on your body. Peaking from behind the cover, you saw a very intoxicated Emily draped over the doorway, barely standing up straight.

"No fucking way," she giggled, a hiccup following right afterwards.

"Shit," you muttered. "I didn't know you were still here, Em."

"Obviously! I-I was, uhm, vomiting in your bathroom... and maybe a little in your kitchen sink..." she explained, her words slurred. "Oh, JJ is never going to believe this one."

"Do you need me to call you an Uber, Emily?" Spencer offered.

Emily waved the suggestion off, "I've got one on the way, don't worry about it."

"Well, go out to the living room and I'll walk you down, okay?" he insisted and she did so with a grumbled "alright".

"We are so fucked," you mumbled, burying your head in your hands.

"It's highly improbable she'll remember anyways. I think we're in the clear," Spencer reassures, putting on his clothes again. "And if we aren't, then we'll handle what we need to because... because I'd like to be seeing you in this context... well, not just this - but romantically, if we can."

He leans down to kiss you before placing his final layer on.

"I'd like that, too, Spencer," you pull him down for another kiss. "Very much so. Now, get Emily out there and hurry back so we can cuddle."

"As you wish, angel," he says with a growing blush across his cheeks. "By the way - I'm really glad that you were my first."

"I'm honored to be your first, Spence," you respond, blowing him a kiss as he moves towards the door. He winks at you in reply before reluctantly moving down the hall, not losing sight of you until he absolutely had to.

It was true, you were honored to be Spencer's first even if it came about in an unexpected manner, but you were really hoping that maybe, just maybe, you could be his last...

requests are open!

[elejah-wonderland]

_elejah☆au

_fanfic one shot

This Christmas...I Give You My Heart

*

Elena finished applying her lipstick. She ruffled her hair a bit and pulled her bangs with the tip of her fingers.

"Are you ready?" Bonnie whizzed in the hall, buttoning her coat up.

"Yep. All done" the doppelgänger said giving herself another look in the mirror.

"Caroline sent a tenth message" Bonnie said as she checked her phone.

"We're very late, I know, but I had to do those last changes in my book.

"It's only a pre-Christmas Eve party in the Grill. No big." the witch said as she sent the blonde vampire the message that they were on their way.

Meanwhile, in the Grill, the party was in full swing already.

The karaoke machine was plugged in and people were taking turns playing all different Christmas songs.

"What took you so long?" Caroline said as she got to Bonnie and Elena at the bar.

"I needed to make sure the magical boundary around the town was secured." Bonnie said and wave at Damon, who swooped in to whisk her away.

"He is here" Caroline whispered into Elena, whose eyes had already descended on Mason Lockwood.

"I don't really care." Elena mumbled and turned to Matt, who brought over a trey of rum shots. "Just one."

"Oh, come on - it's Christmas Eve. We party. I'll make sure you don't do anything stupid." Caroline said.

"Like last year - you mean." Elena remarked.

"Exactly." Caroline said and pulled her friend suddenly by the hand to follow her to the small makeshift podium.

"I can't sing." Elena protested.

"You'll be fine." Caroline said, who mimiced to her friend to do the song with her.

"I can't - sorry." Elena squirmed apologetically.

"Right." Caroline got on stage."This song - it's kinda about those dirty liars and cheats if this world- and just so you know - you can find that someone special"

Last Christmas

I gave you my heart

But the very next day

You gave it away

This year

To save me from tears

I'll give to someone special

Elena inhaled sharply in a very silent manner as the lyrics hit home. She glanced at Mason, whose eyes connected with her. He knew very well that the heartbreak he had caused her last Christmas.

"Hey," Stefan elbowed the doppelgänger gently as he aproached her, "I heard it on the grapevine you went to New Orleans to help Elijah"

"Yeah - no big. He needed a bit of my blood."

"Even as a vampire your blood is still a weapon." Stefan remarked.

"Let's talk about something more exciting? When are you going to propose to Valerie?"

"Tomorrow." Stefan said. "I've got all organized."

"I hope it's totally romantic"

"It is. I just hope she says yes."

"She will. And I'm so happy for you." Elena chimed warmly.

"I really hope you find love, too." Stefan ehxaled a little, evidently worried about the doppelgänger and all that had happened with Mason Lockwood.

"I think I have." Elena curled a little smile at her friend.

And she left the looking puzzled as she turned to the door.

A face on a lover with a fire in his heart

A man under cover, but you tore me apart

Oh, oh now I've found a real love

You'll never fool me again

And Caroline sang the last part differently, pointing her finger at Enzo St. John.

This year I'll give it to someone special

At that very moment, Elena moved swiftly through the swaying crowd and passing by Mason, she opened her arms, wrapping them around Elijah Mikaelson.

"I missed you" she whispered dearly.

"Missed you, too" Elijah said. And though he was not someone to show public display of affection, this time he pulled her to him into a warm loving kiss.

"OMG!" Caroline couldn't hold her surprise seeing the Original and Elena dreamily lost in one another.

"Merry Christmas, everyone" the blonde vampire belted out before she passed the microphone to Vicky.

"Merry Christmas" Elijah muttered, still holding Elena in his arms.

"Merry Christmas," she smiled, "come on - let's get out of here"

Taking the Original by the hand, they slipped out of the Grill.

As she got in his Porsche, she texted Bonnie and Caroline that she'd see them in a few days. "Elijah and I need some time alone. Merry Christmas. xoxo ❤️"

[darkeralmond]

MAMA KNOWS BEST

TREVOR ZEGRAS X FEM! OC

october series

synopsis: hayden and her friends go up to her mom’s house in huntington beach

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: okay but did yall see trevor and dixie’s hard launch???? INSANE.

It had been a couple of days since Trevor and I's "situation" which Wes had walked in on, but he kept quiet about it for the rest of the other two since we both knew they would flip out. Trevor left for Nashville yesterday to play against the Predators. Our date night Friday felt like years away, but I had to take it one step at a time. It was the first Monday of November and the radio stations had already been corrupted by Christmas music.

Alex complained about it, whining about how it was too early for them to play Christmas music, but Mal and I disagreed. Listening to all this Christmas music Mal played from the Alexa in our living room as the 4 of us lounged around reminded me so much of my mom. I proposed the question to the group, "You guys wanna have a beach day at my mom's place?" I prayed they would say yes just so I could see her and update her about life recently.

One by one they agreed, Wes exclaimed, "I haven't seen Ms. Janene in so long!" Though Wes grew up with me because of his mom, Karina, being my mom's all-time best friend, he still called my mom 'Ms. Janene'.

I texted my mom to see if she was home and if we could come up to her house, and she said yes. The group split up after we got my mom's approval and got ready for our beach trip. I put on a two-piece black bathing suit, throwing on a white halter tank top and jorts over top. I paired it with my sunglasses and white Birkenstocks. I covered up the dark purple hickeys Trevor left on my neck with color corrector and foundation. I then grabbed my tote bag and grabbed my book, annotation kit, Airpods, a portable charger plus cord, and wallet. I went into the kitchen and grabbed my navy blue off-brand hydro flask, filling it up with water.

It didn't take long for the others to finish getting ready. We didn't bring a lot since my mom's house was right on the beach. Jacob, her boyfriend and the perfect guy for her, owned some sort of online company that made him loaded, so he bought a house for him and her to live in together which was right by the water.

"You guys ready?" I asked as I grabbed my car keys.

🎵

It was only supposed to be a 40-minute drive up to Huntington, but it took almost an hour due to traffic. When we finally made it to the house, I pulled into the driveway and parked the car. We all piled out of the car and like excited children trick-or-treating, Alex and Weston ran up to the door. I was more focused on the Christmas decorations that were already up, it hadn't even been a week since Halloween. Alex was the first to make it to the doorbell which gave him the honor of ringing it. Mal and I finally made it up to the porch when the door opened.

Jacob had a wide smile on his face as he greeted the boys. "Hey! Come on in," he invited as he moved out of the way for us all to enter. When we all made it inside, we each got a hug from him. Each of us took our shoes off and lined them up by the front door. "Your mom is in the kitchen." I knew he intended to say that for just me, but my mom felt like everyone's mom, especially Weston's.

"Thanks, Jacob," I said as I led the group through the large arch door frame that led to the kitchen. There my mom was, taking cookies out of the oven and placing them on top of the stove. "Hi, mama!"

She turned back to me and flashed an enthusiastic grin as she threw the mitts off. "Hi, sweet pea!" She rushed over to me and gave me a tight hug. "I missed you so much!" She gave me a kiss on my forehead. She then turned to the rest of my party and said, "I missed you too, children!" She gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I could hear the Christmas music coming from the living room which is where Jacob kept the record player his dad had gifted to him before he passed away. "You guys came at the perfect time, just let the cookies cool down for a bit and then they'll be good to eat. Go get yourselves comfortable in the living room and I'll bring them out."

"Yes, ma'am!" Alex skipped to the living room and flopped onto his favorite spot on the couch. Mal popped down next to him and Weston and I sat on the couch we claimed. I found out that the vinyl my mom had playing was Ella Fitzgerald's Christmas album, 'Ella Wishes You A Swinging Christmas'.

Shortly after we sat down on the couch, Jacob also joined us. He sat on his reclining chair like he always had since they bought the house. My mom came out with cookies a couple of minutes later and placed the Christmas-themed plate in the center of the glass coffee table. Jacob reached for a cookie, but my mom slapped his hand away. "Let the kids get some first!" she tutted. Each of us got a cookie quickly, and then Jacob got one. "Hayden and Wes, will you come with me to get some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, mama!" I sprung up from my spot on the couch along with Weston and made our way to the kitchen with my mom.

She grabbed 6 mugs from the cabinet above the dishwasher and lined them up along the countertop. "How have you guys been?" she asked as she made her way over to the refrigerator. "Could you grab some hot cocoa mix from the pantry?"

Wes and I made our way over to the pantry and grabbed 6 packets. I decided I would answer first since I didn't think Wes really wanted to talk about Alejandro. "I've been good," I said as she poured the milk into the milk boiler on the stove.

"Yeah, she's got herself a little boyfriend now," Wes added as he nudged me with his elbow playfully. I rolled my eyes and laughed with red cheeks.

"Do you really?" My mom's eyes lit up as a smile grew on her face. "What's his name?" She turned on the boiler and then turned to me, leaning against the counter with one hand.

"Well, we're not dating yet, we're just seeing each other," I had a sheepish smile on my face as I answered. "His name is Trevor and he's really sweet."

"I'm sure he is," Weston chimed in, now causing me to nudge him with my elbow. He laughed at my attempt to keep him quiet.

My mom giggled a bit and said, "Oh, you two. Spill what's going on. What does he do?"

"He plays hockey for the Anaheim Ducks." I sat down on a stool near the island in the middle of the unnecessarily large kitchen.

She gasped, "You got yourself a professional athlete! You're officially a WAG like Taylor Swift." I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "I'm serious, that's a huge thing. I'm happy that you're happy, sweet pea." She then turned to Wes who sat down next to me and asked him how he was doing. He sighed as a faint smile appeared on his face. "Well, I found out that Alejandro left me for one of my best friends, now my ex-best friend, so I'm not doing the best." My mom gave him a sympathetic look as came over to the island where we were. "But nothing like how shocked I was to find Hayden on top of Trevor as he gave her hickeys."

I gasped loudly and covered his mouth, my cheeks flushed bright red. My mom gasped as she looked over at me. "Oh, my God, Wes! I do not need to know this stuff about my daughter!" she snorted as she looked back at me. "But the fact you tried to hide them from me like a high schooler is hilarious. Foundation?" I nodded my head, embarrassed. "The trick, sweet pea, is using a cold spoon to get rid of the color." She then looked over at my neck and winced, "Yeah, I can kind of see the dark marks. Holy shit, they're huge!"

"Can we please stop talking about my hickeys?" I begged, causing my mom and Weston to laugh.

It took a moment for me to come back from the embarrassment of my mom finding out Trevor had marked my neck up and lecturing me about how I to get rid of them better. She poured the now warm milk into the mugs and Wes and I mixed in the cocoa. My mom decorated them with whipped cream, marshmallows, and red and green sprinkles. Each of us took 2 cups out and handed them off to Alex, Mal, and Jacob.

Jacob thanked my mom and took a sip of his hot cocoa. He then asked Alex and Mal, "So how long have you two been together now?"

Both of them became a flustered mess as they both looked at each other with wide eyes and anxious smiles. Like I said, they looked and acted like a couple. "We're not dating," they said in sync. My mom shot a doubtful glance at me as she took a sip of her hot cocoa causing me to crack a small smile. Alex then stuffed a cookie in his mouth while Mal took a long sip of her hot cocoa. It was all hysterical and brought the attention off me for a bit.

🎵

We hung out in the house longer than I thought we would, but we eventually went down to the water. My mom had given us towels for us to use and beach chairs. Alex grabbed a volleyball from my old bedroom and brought to the beach with us. The beach was exclusively for Shoreside residents and guests of the residents, you needed special permission to be able to access the beach. Since everyone around Shoreside knew Pink Slip, they knew we were special guests of both Jacob and my mom.

I set up my chair next to Mal's and soaked up the sun's rays. Weston and Alex were already running down to the water, splashing around like children. Jacob decided to stay up at the house, so my mom decided to accompany us. She sat down next to us on her beach chair and enjoyed her time with her two favorite girls. I'm an only child, so having a close group of best friends like this meant they were constantly around like family which my mom loved since she wanted more kids. "So, what else has been going on with you guys? Any music coming up?"

Mal turned to my mom and smiled brightly. "Actually, yeah! You know Hayden's writing songs for our new album coming up?"

"I did not!" My mom turned to me appalled. "That's great, sweet pea. What all do you have right now?"

I know I told Trevor that no one other than me and my bandmates were allowed to know about upcoming music, but technically I broke that rule since I decided to add 'Halley's Comet' to the album. Plus, she's my mom! Of course, I was gonna tell her what was going on. "I really only have two songs right now," I answered.

"Really?" Mal's eyebrows furrowed as a smile plastered her face. "What else did you write?"

"Well, I found something from my old sophomore year songbook," I replied. "Trevor's request."

"Of course it is," Mal teased. "Did you know your daughter is practically dating a famous hockey player?"

My mom glanced over at me and chuckled, "Yes, I do." She implied that she knew more than she needed to with her tone of voice, but Mal didn't pick up on it.

She instead grabbed her phone and pulled something. She then handed the phone over to my mom with a picture of Trevor and me from when we were with Jamie and him. "That's them together. Aren't they adorable?"

My mom put her sunglasses on the top of her head as she brought the screen closer to her face and squinted her eyes. "Oh, I remember that boy! He was at Jacob's mom's party, such a sweetheart. I think he's a good pick," she said as she winked.

"I think so too," I replied. "He's currently in Nashville for a game tomorrow, then he's going to Colorado for another game the next day. When he gets back, he's taking me out to dinner."

"Do you know where yet?" Mal asked as she took her phone back from my mom.

I shook my head. "I think he's surprising me or he's waiting until it's closer to Friday to tell me."

"You guys coming in the water or are you just gonna gossip the whole time?" Alex yelled from the water, his hands cupped around his mouth to project his voice louder. He was drenched, breathing heavily like a child. Wes came up from behind him and hopped on his back. He yelped, "You asshole!" Mal and I laughed loudly as we got from our chairs and stripped down to our bathing suits before running to the water.

🎵

I sat on the carpet with my songbook and keyboard, going through the process of writing a song. "It is currently November 2nd, 2023. Uh, it's just me this time trying to write some music." I felt like being isolated in my room writing would get me the best results for something more personal. While playing random keys on the keyboard, my mind kept running back to Trevor and I making out on the floor and my only thoughts being 'I'm falling in love again'.

I played a couple of chords on the piano and sang, almost in a hum, "Uh oh, I'm falling in love. Oh no, I'm falling in love again... Oh, I'm falling in love." I quickly moved my hands from the keys to my songbook and pen, writing those lyrics down as the chorus. I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to remember any other thoughts from that night.

"Downward spiral," I muttered. "Downward spiral. Downward spiral..." By repeating it out loud, I thought it would help me come up with a line. I gasped and clasped my hands together as I said, "I thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?!" A bright smile formed on my face as I scribbled that lyric down on the songbook. I repeated this process and with the help of my memory with Trevor and my caffeinated tea, I was able to come up with 'Labyrinth'.

I recorded myself lazily singing on my MacBook and moved that recording to GarageBand. Now it was time to come up with some sort of instrumental track to match the vibe of the song. I had snuck a glance down at the voice memo I was recording on my phone, I had been here for almost an hour. I figured this song could use some piano, a different sound on the electric guitar, and a quieter bass and drum sound. With that, I came up with 3 different demos and decided to call it a night. The deadline I assigned myself was December 10th, which meant there was a little over a month left for me to write all 7 more songs, collect everyone to learn them, get Aubrey's approval, and then record them. I should've started this sooner.

[thetorturedpoetsintern]

'tis the damn season

Note: After a long waiting, the next chapter is here. Yes, we just had Easter, and yes, this is a Christmas oneshot but let it be. Enjoy!🤍

Previous chapter here

Warnings: yet again a lot of pining, fluff, hinted but not explicit NSFW stuff

cca 1.8k words

My dearest,

When I’m asking you to tell me how you’re doing, I don’t mean what people you’re entertaining in your new mansion and what parties you hold there. I genuinely want to know how YOU are. I left for a reason and you know it, Narcissa, so I beg you to stop reminding me of people I want to forget and places I no longer wish to step in.

I’m well aware I’m the cause of the ache you might feel because I feel it too. It’s dull but it throbs every time I think about you. And lately all I can think about is you, is us. How all this could be different. It’s a selfish thing to do now that you started a family, so I’ll keep it short.

I’m coming home for the holidays. I’m not going to come to the manor, but if you want to see me, I thought you should know I’ll be staying at my parents’ house. They’ll be gone at some ball or another the entire time, and since I’m not invited after what I did two years ago, we’ll have the place mostly to ourselves. That if you would come. 

If you accept, I’ll be yours for as long as you decide to stay. It’s the most I can do, and so we’ll be even. I was yours before your wedding as you asked me to, and now I’ll be yours for the holidays. I’m offering. ‘Tis the damn season after all.

If you don’t, I’ll understand. I won’t hold a grudge on you and I will let you go. You deserve to be happy and if this, me, keeps you from your happiness, I’ll retreat myself and make sure we won’t ever cross paths again.

Take care of yourself and remember: he’s dreamy, he’s shiny, but the world doesn’t revolve around him. You are the Sun.

Love x

From the moment I sent the letter and until I heard the flames of the fireplace announcing the appearance of someone, I forgot about the deal I proposed to her. Not really, but ever since I thought about it I kept my expectations as low as possible. I couldn’t bear another heartbreak. So when I went into the living room to see who was there, I thought it was my mother forgetting something. Instead I was met with the coldest blue eyes I ever set mine on, a pair of eyes I have memorized and tried and failed to reproduce on a piece of paper in moments of longing.

“Darling.” Her voice sounded broken, as if she hadn’t used it for a long time. 

“Narcissa.” Mine sounded more like the voice of a spoiled child when they get what they craved for ages. “You’ve come! Does that mean…?”

“Yes, darling! I can’t let you slip through my fingers. I want you to keep looking for me. You’re my happiness, not Lucius.” She steps closer to my freezing body, and I could feel her warmth enveloping me with every step she took. 

“What did you tell him?”

“He says he has some business to do for the Dark Lord. But I happen to know he’s at Spinner's End.” I knew what that entailed. He couldn’t get past Severus the same way she seemed to not get past me. “Are we alone?”

“Except you, me, and a couple of house elves, we indeed are all alone.” Narcissa’s shoulders relaxed visibly at my statement but her hands kept fidgeting and I couldn’t help but notice the seemingly freshly red painted nails she started wearing after she became a Malfoy. Not even her wedding ring bothered me anymore. She assured me the night before her marriage that it was a piece of costume for the greatest show she’ll star in. But the red nails that started showing up after the ceremony were my reminder that no matter how much she told me she wanted me, she belonged to another person and to another world. 

I grabbed her hand. It was cold, a coldness I missed touching and feeling it run on my skin. 

“What do you say? We grab some bottles of wine, we ask the elves for some food, and we go upstairs to my rooms?”

“As long as you don’t let go of my hand, I’ll do whatever you want.” Her eyes and smile were enough to let me know I had her all to myself. They’re mischievous like when we were students and I can’t help my mind but wonder about all the times she had the exact same expression of sheer playful menace plastered on her face.

I didn't let go of her hand as we made our way to my father’s supposedly secret alcohol stash and grabbed a bottle each. We couldn’t take more because then we’d had to stop holding hands and we both refused that. She didn’t let go of my hand either. Crushing my hand into hers, afraid of losing me in my chaotic running up and down. 

I don’t know how we got into my room. I was too dizzy at that point and couldn’t wait to take her in, to make her demonstrate it’s not just a dream. 

“You’re so flushed right now, darling!” It was so pleasant to hear her careless laugh. Narcissa was panting for air just like I was, only she didn’t want to admit it. You could just sense it in her slightly straining voice.

“Merry Christmas, Narcissa!,” I exclaimed, letting go of her hand as I brought my bottle of wine into her view. She responded by pulling me into a kiss.

She was like a starved animal, punishing my lips and tongue, clawing at my clothes. She pushed me on my bed and as she brought her face once again closer to mine, I could see her blue orbs surrounded by thin red threads in a tearless cry. She got closer to my cheek, whispering her confession.

“I hate being apart from you. You make it worse with those letters you insist on sending me. I hate that Lucius has Severus at his beck and call whenever he wants and I had to wait two years to even set my eyes on your figure again. I hate that you even suggested a final break when we haven’t even got to explore what really is between us…” She hesitated for a moment and then she continued. “I hate how you look at me right now, as if I’m once again a child that bit too much and now can’t chew.” I wasn’t even aware of how I looked at her. I was too lost in her words. That night was the first time her real self emerged in front of me. 

“Narcissa, you’re not a child, you’re a married woman who I’m sure is aware of the risks of being caught inside another woman’s sheets.”

“And I don’t care as long as you're the other woman.” I knew at that moment she meant it. She wanted to escape her controlled world, to live as she wanted but couldn’t, even if that meant a few hours of bliss.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m in love.”

“So am I.” She once again captured my lips with hers, taking her time to taste and explore with her hands. 

It was like the first time again. Both of us amazed by the other's softness, the curves that fit in the other's palm perfectly, the wetness that didn’t seem to end but actually grow no matter how many times one threw the other in the abyss of pleasure. 

We ended up cuddling and facing each other, legs tangled with the duvet, not wanting to let go, not wanting to interrupt the silence, caressing one another, whispering sweet nothings that I was aware the next day would seem blatant lies. 

“Narcissa…” I tried to catch her eye but she ignored me.

“We forgot about the wine, did we?” She escaped my arms, shifting her body so she can get out of bed.  “I think now it’s the perfect moment for it anyway. Though I’m sure it’s not as rich in flavor as you are.” She turned to look at me then, ignoring my silent pleading with her sensual smile on her lips.

“Narcissa…”

“Let me just grab a bottle and the glasses and I’ll be right back.”

“Narcissa…”

“What?” She was starting to get angry as she turned her naked torso toward me.

“What will happen tomorrow? Are you going to go to your husband pretending none of this happened? Will you continue calling me once in a while, when you feel like it?”

“Let’s not think about this right now.” Narcissa sounded defeated.

“Then when, if not now?”

“Later.”

We ended up falling asleep in each other's arms, clinging to each other like an anchor clings to a rock on the bottom of the ocean in the middle of the storm. We didn’t realize that we were in the eye of the hurricane then, and that the actual storm hadn't actually hit us yet.

I woke up with the urge to look for her, and opening my eyes I saw she was right there in front of me, caressing my face with her fingers.

Suddenly, her voice, a little harsh from sleep, interrupted the peaceful morning. “I thought and now I know the answer. Move in with me, my love!”

“That’s insane, Narcissa.” I remember I scoffed at the proposal, and Narcissa lifted herself onto her elbow to assert dominance and seriousness in her conclusion.

“It’s the most sane decision I ever made in my life. Come with me to the manor. I love you, you love me. Why don’t we see how this will play out?”

“How about Lucius? Our parents?”

“Lucius doesn’t have a say in this if he wants me to keep up appearances. And we’re friends, good friends, that’s what our parents will know.”

Indeed Lucius had to shut up about this or his affair would be exposed, and it wouldn’t have been the first time anyone got invited for a longer period of time at the Malfoy Manor so it could have worked.

“I’ll kill Lucius if he does you wrong.”

“I know, my love!” She softened then, her body lowering again next to mine, her gaze relaxed and full of joy. But there was something else nagging my thoughts.

“I’m aware you have to try for a child until you finally get an heir, but promise me this: once you have a baby boy, will you be truly mine?”

“I don’t know how much that will take. Or if it will ever happen. My father always wanted a boy and ended up with three girls. But I can promise you this: my heart is and will be forever yours. My body is just a vessel, but my spirit is only mine and I give it entirely to you.I am yours, and not anyone else’s, because I chose that. Like you wrote, I’m the Sun and I choose you.” 

She indeed chose me, though she had to lose me too, over and over, though she kept her promise. I had and still have her heart, and I hope I will take better care of it in the future.

[hangmanbrainrot]

I have a request if you're still taking them! Going to a Christmas party with your aviator, your choice! 👀

I kept the party general, called it a holiday party instead. Hope that's okay, anon. <3

warnings: holiday mention (as noted above, I tried to avoid mentioning christmas directly but I'll tag that as a warning just in case), a lil fluff, anxiety mention/implied, social anxiety mentioned/implied, non-sexual overstimulation, this is my first time writing for javy. he's the first who came to mind when i read this request!

notes: this was a bit self-serving as i'm generally an anxiety ridden individual and these are things that would comfort me when i'm anxious but i get that not everyone would relate!

word count: 785

pairing: javy machado x gn!reader

let it snow

The truth was you weren’t really the greatest at parties. But Javy? Well, he knew how to light up any place he’d dare to grace with his presence. Even in a place where he knew no one and you knew everyone. Gotta love the office holiday party. He had managed to work the room full of strangers with a level of charm that would’ve been disarming, if you didn’t already know him. He was all beaming smiles, and careful, polite retorts in that velvety smooth voice of his. You were sure, in fact, that the only thing that stopped anyone from throwing themselves at him was the gold band adorning his left hand, the one that matched yours. Meanwhile, you were trying and failing to resist every instinct to sink into yourself and retreat, maybe to hide in the bathroom or in your car, when the very man on your mind appeared.

“Baby,” he said softly, sliding onto the bar stool beside yours, where you’d perched yourself for the evening. You weren’t even drinking — couldn’t risk the way the alcohol would spike your anxiety, just nursing a now slightly watered down ginger ale. “How we doin’?”

“Okay,” you replied, but your voice sounded tinny, even to your own ears, and sucking in breaths felt like a chore. You knew this feeling well. Knew why the bar sounded too loud, why your sweater was too itchy, shoes felt too tight.

And, judging by the look on his face, your husband knew, too. 

“Can you come with me?” he held his hand in the air between you for a moment, before it came to rest on your lower back. He could see what no one else in the room could: you were working up to an anxiety attack, and trying to be brave so you didn't ‘ruin’ another night out.

“Okay,” you repeated. This time when your husband's hand came out, it reached for your own. He was already standing, and the hand on your lower back hadn't moved. Instead, his thumb was rubbing in small half moons against your skin through your sweater, to a steady count of three.

“I'm going to take you out onto the dance floor,” Javy squeezed your hand when he felt you tense at his side, ready to bolt. “And I promise you won’t feel overwhelmed.”

True to his word, he swirled you to the center of the room, and you had a vice grip on his hand, but if he was uncomfortable he didn’t voice his concern. Instead, he briefly lifted the hand that was flat against your lower back, and it disappeared into his pocket.

“Proposing again, Lieutenant?” you quipped, even as your voice shook — just desperate for the distraction.

“Caught me, Red.” 

The nickname was one he hadn’t trotted out in awhile, instead used in the early days of your relationship because you were always blushing around him. But the familiarity in the face of all your panic, in the middle of a crowded room, felt like a life raft.

“Here,” he said quietly, gently pressing a singular AirPod into your ear. “Close as we’re gonna get to snow in winter in SoCal,” he muttered miserably, giving the white plastic a gentle tap to resume the song he’d likely queued up before he’d found you at the bar.  It was then that you noticed the other earbud in his own ear. As a bluesy cover of Frank Sinatra flooded one of your ears, anyway, your husband pulled you in tight, so your other ear was pressed against his chest. From here, you didn’t have to worry about the crowd, the coworkers all wanting to thank your partner for his service, the volume in the room. 

Just the gentle, consistent thud of his heart, and:

The feel of his arms around you grounded you; he was holding you just tight enough that it should’ve made you uncomfortable. But instead of being overwhelmed by your surroundings, you just felt him: enveloping and soothing you in the way that only the love of your life could. You could hear enough of the rest of the room to know that the rest of your coworkers were mixing and mingling in jingling feet, but your husband was content to move in slow, tight circles, to a tune only the two of you heard.

When we finally kiss good night,

how I'll hate going out in a storm.

But if you'll really hold me tight,

all the way home I'll be warm.

Instead of sinking into yourself, you thought you’d give in to this moment with your person, instead.

Long as you love me so

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

may i pls request an arvin fic with prompts 38 & 42😭🥹🤍

Hey love I hope you like it! I'm sorry it took a little while but I absolutely loved this I thought it was so so cute. Anyways I wanted to say thank you for supporting me for so long, you were one of my earliest followers and it means a lot ❤️ Also as an aside, there are 4 more summer of love prompts left in my inbox, those will be out shortly too. Let me know what you think, love u xx

The Hookman

38 - Making s'mores

42 - Getting scared while camping

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You take Arvin camping for his birthday

Regular Masterlist

Summer of Love Prompts

Summer of Love Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Arvin didn’t care much about his birthday, he never bothered planning any sort of celebration or party, he found it all unnecessary. He loved to celebrate your birthday though, and your anniversary, and Christmas, any opportunity to spoil you really. You liked spoiling him too, but he always appreciated the gesture much more than he cared about any of the actual gifts. He just wasn’t a very materialistic person, which is why this year you’d decided to give him an experience for this birthday instead of any physical object.

You would have loved to fly him to some exotic location and have some big romantic weekend, but you couldn’t afford anything like that. So you went with something much simpler, camping. One of your friends offered the perfect spot for a romantic getaway, it was secluded in the woods, perked on top of a large hill with a great view, and less than a mile from a massive lake. You were overjoyed with the find, and the same friend helped you make a list of everything you would need. You proposed the idea to Arvin and he was excited, spending the weekend alone with you was his ideal birthday really.

Although he was a little reluctant to let you plan the trip and pay for it, you wouldn’t budge on the matter, and he was forced to concede eventually. He did double check your packing list though, just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything essential. Once you were both sure you had everything you’d need you loaded it all into his car and headed out. It was about an hour drive, and it was a bit difficult to navigate the truck to the campsite, but the view was worth the effort. You were surrounded by a circle of trees, the forest was buzzing and everything smelled fresh. Below your campsite you could see the corner of the lake, and in the middle of the campsite there was a makeshift fire pit born from the hundreds of campers who had been there before you.

You attempted at first to unload the car and set up the tent yourself, insisting Arvin relax, but there was no way he’d let you do it all yourself. So you two put up your tent and piled your things inside. By the time you had your campsite all set up the sun was starting to set, and both of you were getting hungry. For your first night you’d decided to pre pack some sandwiches for dinner, so all you had to do was gather a bit of wood and start a fire. You two snuggled up next to each other in some folding lawn chairs while you ate and watched the sun go down.

“This is incredible,” Arvin hummed contently before he looked over at you, “You know I think this is already my best birthday ever.”

You flushed, “Well it’s not actually your birthday until tomorrow, but thank you. It’s really nice out here.”

“Yeah it is,” he agreed, tracing his hand over one of yours, “We should get out the s’mores before it gets too dark.”

“Don’t you wanna save those for tomorrow?” you frowned, “I mean I didn’t bring a cake or anything so that’s kind of our only dessert.”

“I’m sure we’ll have enough for tonight and tomorrow,” he hummed, “Plus it’s my birthday trip, I think I’m entitled to some s’mores if I want them.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself out of your chair, “I’ll be right back.”

You returned with graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, several Hershey’s bars, and some metal skewers you thought would be perfect to roast the marshmallows on.

“Yummy,” Arvin hummed, ripping into the marshmallows and throwing one into his mouth.

You carefully placed one of them on your skewer and dipped it into the fire, “They’re so much better roasted.”

“They’re delicious either way,” he said with a mouthful of marshmallow, making you crinkle your nose.

“It’s rude to speak with your mouth full Arvin,” you scolded playfully.

He laughed, “Oh I forgot, you fell in love with me for my good manners,” he placed another marshmallow onto his skewer and shoved it into the fire, “Did you ever tell ghost stories when you were little?”

You knit your brows as you tried to remember, “No, I don’t think so. There was rumor that one of the houses in town was haunted, but that’s the closest I can remember.”

He nodded, “Lenora and I used to tell them to each other,” his hand slipped over your leg, squeezing your thigh before he continued, “Not just when we were camping, but that always made them scarier. They’re so cheesy, I can’t believe I used to be scared of that shit…”

“That’s cute Arvin,” you laughed, “Do you remember any of them?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t know, I haven’t thought about them in a long time.”

You pulled your marshmallow from the fire and began assembling your s’more, “Could you try and tell me one?”

“You wanna hear a cheesy ghost story?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Of course, I like it well you tell stories, your voice is nice.”

He blushed and bit his cheek, “I suppose I probably remember enough…”

“Yay!” you cheered and leaned back in your chair, “Well get on with it.”

He let out a low hum as he pulled his burning marshmallow away from the fire. He blew it out, the marshmallow was nearly black, “It starts with this criminal, a murderer I think. I don’t remember exactly what happened to him but basically he loses his hand and it gets replaced with a hook. So he’s this hook handed killer, and he was always going after pretty young girls,” he glanced over at you, “It took years to catch him, and when they finally did they hung him. So he dies, but since his soul was so twisted it couldn’t rest properly, and he came back as a ghost. Now he wanders all over the country looking for more pretty young girls to kill. Oh!” he cracked a big smile, “And he especially likes girls with (y/h/c).”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t believe that used to scare you.”

“That one didn’t scare me, it scared Lenora,” he defended, “I used to tell it better.”

Arvin kept trying to recall more and more details about the story while you finished your s’mores. You were almost certain that he was making it up just to try and scare you. You humored him, nodding along with whatever new details he added, laying your head on his shoulder while he talked. You two continued like that until the fire started to sizzle out. Arvin volunteered to fully extinguish it so you could get comfy in your makeshift bed.. Inside the tent you’d laid your sleeping bags on top of each other to provide a bit of padding and brought a pile of blankets to keep yourselves warm. You wanted the tent to be as comfortable as possible so you’d brought more than a fair share of blankets and pillows.

“Fires good,” Arvin promised as he crawled into the tent, zipping it closed behind him, “You look comfy.”

You smiled, “I’ll be comfier once you’re in here with me.”

“I’m coming,” he promised as he began stripping his clothes.

He got down to his boxers and crawled under the blankets beside you, “Ready for bed kitten?”

“I’m pretty tired,” you snuggled up to his chest.

“Me too,” he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to the top of your head, “Thank you for planning this, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you cooed back.

He held you close to him until you fell asleep. Admittedly it was more difficult than normal, it was harder to drift off without your comfy mattress under you. Snuggling up to Arvin helped, but you already knew you wouldn’t be sleeping as deep as you normally would. Sure enough you found yourself waking up shortly after you drifted off, Arvin was already deep asleep, but you were suddenly uncomfortable. You rolled over so your back was against Arvin’s chest. He scooted closer to you and you closed your eyes in hopes of drifting off again.

When you fell asleep the second time you were able to fall deep enough into sleep that you started to dream. You would have hoped to have some sort of sweet dream about you and Arvin, instead you were struck with the hook man. In your dream he came stalking up to your tent, ripping it open and yanking you from the inside. Luckily you were woken up before anything too gruesome could happen, the sounds of the wind grazing your tent had drawn you back to reality. Arvin was still sleeping soundly, his face buried in your neck, his lips placed against your bare skin. His tight grip helped to relax you after the bad dream. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, sinking back into him with a smile. The adrenaline started to die down and your pounding heart relaxed.

Until the wind picked up again. This time it was more than just the wind, you heard some sort of awful, high pitched screeching that made your skin crawl. Arvin stirred but didn’t wake up. You sank under the blankets, pulling them up to your eyes, which were darting rapidly around the tent. The screeching sounded again, you tried to calm yourself but your mind was already getting irrational. Really you knew it was just a stray branch or the car, but you couldn’t help picturing the hook man from your dreams. Stalking you outside the tent, running his hook over the car, getting ready to tear you away from Arvin and murder you.

With a small squeal you flipped to face Arvin again, “Arvin,” at first your voice was quiet, still unsure if you wanted to wake him, “Arvin,” this time you were a little louder, pushing against his chest, “Arvin!” you snapped suddenly, just in time for the wind to pick up once more.

He groaned, reaching up to rub one of his eyes before he opened it, “Something wrong baby?”

Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you’d woken him up, “I, uh, I had this kind of weird dream.”

His lips tugged to a frown, “What about?”

“The hookman…” you uttered shamefully.

He smiled and started to chuckle, “Really?”

“Yes!” you fell onto your back dramatically, “Then I woke up and I started hearing this screechy sound, it's freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sure it was just a tree or something though,” he wrapped his arm around your middle and pressed his lips to your ear, “Or an owl, or anything. We’re in the woods, there are weird noises sometimes.”

“I know,” you groaned, “It’s just nerves.”

He nodded and moved right up next to you, “Well just come here. I promise it was normal forest noises, but if it was a hookman, I would protect you. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you’re always safe with me.”

You snuggled back to his chest, wanting to feel him close again, “Promise?”

“Course, I don’t care if it’s the hookman or the devil himself,” he mumbled against your forehead, “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, I love you too much for that.”

“I love you too Arvin,” your cheeks flushed and you smiled, “It’s probably after midnight now.”

“You think so?”

You nodded, “Yeah, so happy birthday.”

“Mmm, thank you baby,” he yawned and leaned in for a quick kiss, “I’m about to pass out again, but you can wake me up if you need me.”

“Of course, thank you hunny,” you cooed sweetly, “You always know just what to say.”

He said nothing, simply pressing his lips to your head again before sleep overtook him.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist: 

@niallsvirgosun @roseke​ @namoreno​ @zspideyy​ @emistrash​ @andreagf956​ @tomsirishgirlx​ @peachyafshawn​ @agbspidey​ @nj01​ @sleepybesson​ @misshale21​ @prancerrparkerr​ @raajali3​ @ellabellabus07 @minjix @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @graciexmarvel @lnmp89 @mcushvft @s-we-e-t-t-ea @liltimmyst @gloomynigvts @cest-la-vieve @afro-hispwriter

[wwenhlimagines]

darius martin x female reader. darius proposing to his gf with the help of secret santa 🥺

This is such a cute idea. I hope you like it!

Darius's POV

Today is the day I am finally going to ask Y/N to marry me, but I knew it needed to be special. So I suggested that we do Secret Santa in order for me to catch her off guard. We have been together for 3 years and, although, we are still young and figuring out the real world, I want to make sure she and I figure it all out together. I had been getting questioned left and right backstage from the other wrestlers asking if it was going to happen soon. Allie, aka The Bunny, had been extremely interested as of late since Y/N had started to train with her more often.

About a week ago

"Darius, my friend, how is Christmas shopping for Y/N going?"

I shrugged my shoulders with a small smirk. "Pretty good. I think she will like what I have for her."

Allie stared waryingly at me for a second before whispering to me. "You should probably know, I got her for Secret Santa. Your gift better outshine mine."

I chuckled lightly before an idea popped up in my head, and I took Allie out of earshot to ask for her help, which she giddily jumped around about before agreeing to it.

Back to the present day

I smiled as I watched Y/N get all dressed up for the Secret Santa party. She had a cute Christmas dress with some heels laid out on the bed as she finished up her hair and makeup. I walked into the bathroom and wrapped my arms around her waist as I set my chin on her right shoulder. "There's my babygirl. I missed you this morning. Training again?"

She smiled as I left a couple light kisses on her neck and shoulder. "Yep. Allie insisted on training and then shopping for an outfit for tonight."

I tried my best to hide my smirk as this means Allie already has the plan working. "Well. I'm glad you are home now, and we get to go hang out with our friends for a bit. But trust me, baby, later you are all mine." I gave her ass a quick squeeze as I left her to finish getting ready and went downstairs to text Allie.

Thanks for getting her an outfit today. She is so psyched to go to the party.

You're welcome, lover boy, but you better not drop the ball tonight.

You have the ring in her present correct? I don't want anything to go wrong.

Yes. It is in its own box that she will open last.

Perfect. Thank you again. I can't imagine how I would have done this without your help.

Yeah,yeah,yeah, just get Cinderella to the ball on time, Prince Charming.

👍🏼

Y/N's POV

As I put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup, I smile, thinking about how Darius is going to react to my new outfit once I have it on. It's a bit more revealing than I would normally go for considering it is a company party, but it's definitely going to boost my confidence once I put it on. I have Hook for Secret Santa, so the present was pretty easy as I just got some chips and gift cards for camera equipment. I wasn't sure who had me, though, so tonight could be really great or kinda meh depending on how presents go. I know Darius has Anthony Bowens, and he is really excited to see his face when he opens up his present as they are pretty close.

I get dressed and grab my gift for Hook from the closet before heading out to the living room to find Darius in a nice red button-down with black jeans. We both cooed at each other, taking in each other's appearances. "Who is she? The goddess of Christmas, perhaps?"

I laugh as Darius takes my hand and twirls me around slowly. He gently pulls me into his arms, and I smile before kissing him briefly. "Let's get on the road, my big strong Nutcracker."

We laughed and made small talk as we drove to the party, and I could sense he was getting more nervous as we got closer. I put my hand on his thigh and gently squeezed it. "Bowens is going to love your gift. Just relax and have a good time, babe."

Darius smiles and pecks my lips after parking the car. He runs around to open the door for me, and I shake my head at him. "Let's get this party started, m'lady!"

We walk inside and talk to our friends, occasionally splitting up, but overall sitting together and eating yummy treats as everybody settles in. We start the Secret Santa gift exchange, and everybody is loving their gifts so far. I deliver my gift to Hook, who smiles and hugs me when he sees the gift card for camera equipment. "Maybe we can have a photoshoot someday soon with the lads and some of your friends as well."

I nod and happily walk back to my spot and watch as the others trade gifts. Darius gets up and hands Bowens his gift, which soon leads to a full bro hug session before he returns to my side. He still seems a bit antsy, but I try to ignore it, thinking maybe he is just nervous about what he might get. Allie stands up and walks over to me, and I squeal lightly as I start to open the gift. She had it wrapped very neatly in a box with another smaller box in the corner. I opened it up to find a scarf I had been eyeing on our shopping trip along with some homemade coupons for girls' spa days with her.

"Oh, Allie! That is so sweet. Thank you so much!"

Allie smiled. "I knew you weren't going to buy that scarf for yourself, and I know you are going to need a spa day for the last little gift there."

I felt Darius move next to me as I opened the last box and found a ring box inside it. I froze momentarily as Allie took the rest of the box off my lap, leaving me to turn to see Darius down on one knee. My fingers struggled to stay still, so he took the box and held it up to me.

"Y/N. You are my person. You are my world. Every day, when I wake up and see you sleeping next to me, I ask myself how I got so lucky. You are my best friend, and although we are still trying to navigate adulthood, you are the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?"

I nodded frantically and squeaked out a yes before he slid the ring on my finger and pulled me into a time stopping kiss. It felt like we were the only two people in the world as we kissed and embraced each other, taking in the feeling of being fiancées. Once we pulled away, I turned back to Allie and squealed, hugging her. Everybody congratulated us, and we didn't leave each other's sides for a good 15 minutes before realizing we never finished Secret Santa.

"Wait, hold up, who is left to do Secret Santa?"

We saw Hook stand up with his camera in hand and a small bag at his side as he walked over to Darius. Once he handed him the bag, we smiled, seeing a few inside joke gifts alongside a slip of paper that read "Engagement pictures session voucher with Hook. Just tell me when and where."

The two of us got a bit teary-eyed as we realized he knew the whole time. Darius was stuttering, trying to think of something to say when Hook put his hand on his shoulder. "Did you really think I couldn't tell when my best friend was going to pop the question? I'll let you see the pictures I got from today in a couple of days after I retouch them, and then we can talk about the photoshoot."

We both pull him into a hug and thank him for taking pictures, trying to get a sneak peek. He smirks and walks away to go get some chips. "So that is officially everyone done for Secret Santa now, right?"

Everybody nods, and Darius puts his arm around me before grabbing his glass as Dante stands to make a toast. "To the holiday season, friends and family including my soon to be sister in law and pain in the ass brother."

I laugh as Darius shakes his head, and we all clink our glasses and cheers to the season and our new journey as fiancées. For the rest of the night, Darius and I are basically attached at the hip and steal kisses from one another whenever we can. The party starts to wind down, and we head out to the car before driving home holding hands.

Once we get inside, it only takes a couple of seconds for Darius to scoop me up and carry me to our bedroom before dropping me on the bed. He lays next to me, and we both simply admire the new bling on my finger for a couple minutes just letting it sink in. Darius smirks before kissing my fingers one by one and slowly working his way up my arm. "I told you tonight you would be all mine."

[beardedmrbean]

You know it's a crisis when Germany's Green vice-chancellor cancels attending a climate summit.

Robert Habeck, who's also economy minister, was supposed to be at the COP28 summit this week in Dubai.

Instead, he is in Berlin, wrangling with coalition partners over an emergency agreement for next year's budget. 

The crisis exploded on 15 November, when Germany's constitutional court declared that the government's budget was illegal for breaking German laws against taking on new debt.

That left a hole of tens of billions of euros.

Now the government has just a few days to come up with a solution, if it wants to pass the 2024 national budget before 1 January without emergency sittings.

On Wednesday Germany's cabinet meets for the last time this year. A revised budget would have to be put to parliament in next week's final sessions before Christmas, so ministers should agree this week on how to balance next year's budget, while sticking to the law.

This is not so much a debt crisis, as an anti-debt crisis. A German law, known as the "debt brake", limits the amount of new borrowing the government is allowed to take on.

The law is enshrined in the constitution since Chancellor Angela Merkel introduced it in 2009 and is a matter of faith for conservatives, who brought the case to the courts.

So it was a coup for the conservative opposition when three weeks ago judges ruled that Olaf Scholz's left-leaning government was breaking this law.

Balancing Germany's budget is a feature of German politics, and is known as the schwarze Null, or black zero. It limits a government's budget deficit to 0.35% of economic output.

Exceptions are allowed in national emergencies, such as the Covid pandemic. The government had planned to use emergency debt left over from the pandemic, to spend on Germany's shift to green energy instead. Germany's constitutional court has declared this wheeze illegal.

That leaves an estimated shortfall of €60bn (£51bn; $65bn) for 2023, and €17bn for 2024.

For the current year the government has decided to get round the "debt brake" by declaring 2023 an emergency year, because of the energy crisis sparked by Russia's invasion of Ukraine, although this may also be challenged in the courts.

But so far, it's not clear what Mr Scholz is proposing for 2024.

A much-anticipated parliamentary speech by the German chancellor last week did nothing to clarify that. His main message was: Trust me, we have a plan. He also repeated his mantra in German-accented English that "you'll never walk alone".

Behind the scenes the three coalition parties have spent the last few days in late-night meetings scrambling to reach an agreement. German commentators can only guess at who is negotiating what, based on which government building has the lights on late at night.

Broadly speaking the only solutions are tax rises, spending cuts or more debt. But these are three very different parties, with conflicting views over borrowing and spending.

The business-friendly small-state liberal FDP, which runs the finance ministry and holds the purse strings, is ideologically opposed to higher taxes and obsessed with keeping the "debt brake".

Chancellor Scholz's centre-left SPD meanwhile refuses to roll back a promised increase on social spending, and the Greens are determined to boost investment in Germany's transition to renewables.

An uncomfortable coalition at the best of times, and these are not the best of times.

Until now the cracks have been papered over by throwing money at causes important for each party.

But all three are doing badly in the polls and have been punished in recent regional elections, making party members unruly and party leaders less open to compromise. The main reason that a compromise looks possible is that poor poll numbers mean there's no appetite within the government for fresh elections.

Green ambitions to soften the "debt brake" will be difficult to agree in parliament because this needs a two-thirds majority.

Opposition conservatives smell blood, so are in no mood to compromise, and even liberal coalition partners may not agree. But Robert Habeck is rumoured to be planning to get round borrowing rules by arguing for an exemption for crucial future infrastructure.

Either way, the coalition may still find a way to spend money on what's important to each party, just less of it.

[stingslikeabee]

Magnifico clicked his tongue thoughtfully and waved a hand. That dismissed the last of the staff members who were assisting him in the wine cellar, which was currently also serving as a sort of general storage of all of the hotel's spirits. The legendary party to ring in the New Year was only days away, and it was up to the self - named King to approve the drinks that would be offered.

After the scurrying footsteps were gone, Magnifico turned toward the last individual left with him. He smiled pleasantly for his wife. As always, she had exquisite taste ; the proposed menu, spread out before him in sparkling glasses, was exceptional. It would certainly live up to the memory of festivities past.

"You have a remarkable talent for this," Magnifico said, nodding smartly. "I'm sure our guests will very much enjoy indulging themselves on your selections."

After a moment, the manager reached out. He laid a hand gently on Melissa's rounded belly. Their first child moved beneath his palm. "I'm sorry you cannot do the same, mi vida. If only she had been a Christmas baby." Magnifico chuckled. His brilliant eyes flicked across the room, to his private stash that was never included in the official inventory.

" — but that is alright. Let her be safe in there, for a little longer. Besides, I have something special for our private celebration after she arrives. Did I ever tell you, Melissa ?? The champagne that we used to toast at our wedding . . . it was such a delicious small batch and so special afterwards that I couldn't resist. I tracked down every bottle left in the world and stashed them here, under our palace. " Magnifico drew his hand down, placed it on Melissa's hip, and sighed. Underneath the edge of his collar glittered the expensive chain that held his own mementos for their growing family.

"I'll open the next one the minute you ask."

unscripted asks . always accepting

It was remarkable how Melissa's reactions to the flattery offered in return for her job had changed over the years. As soon as the Continental traded hands, the concierge had been arrogant to the point of rudeness - of course she was splendid; the place would have burned down if she stepped away for five minutes considering the inexperienced management.

But now, after marrying the same man she once called 'impossible' and 'the bane of her existence'? The woman smiled pleasantly, and basked in the warm, soothing feeling of being appreciated. It was true that making the right selection of wine for such an important night and considering the menu to be offered was something Melissa took pride in, but even more so with Magnifico's approval.

At his following words and affectionate touch, the concierge smiled and joined him - palm over palm, both calmly experiencing the joy of new life in a world surrounded by so much death. A conscious choice to create a legacy and one that Melissa would fight like something feral to protect - but no longer alone. The manager's joke about the slightly delayed birth date was shared by his wife; but the revelation of just what type of bottles had filled his private storage area left the brunette speechless.

"Nicolás..." the true name of the man escaped under murmured breath, eyes scintillating under the subdued light of the cellar with a mixture of wonder and incredulity which eventually combined into fond resignation. But of course he had done it - it was just his style. Money meant nothing to someone in possession not only of a coin press but fortune like his; sourcing every bottle of that particular Dom Pérignon vintage should have been just another menial job for his exquisite tastes.

Melissa's right hand moved up, finding Magnifico's face and brushing a thumb over his cheek fondly; it dropped to the neck then, followed by the honeyed gaze of a content mother and wife, anxious and happy whenever she looked at his growing collection of pendants for his most precious treasures. Not gold in a vault, not this time - but the three of them and the future children they had talked about, if all went well.

A fitting legacy for a king and his queen.

"I cannot wait until the doctors clear me for that toast, my darling. Our wedding night was one of the best of my life - I would never refuse another sip of that champagne," the woman chuckled, moving in closer to press a kiss to his lips and enlace him around the neck. But, unlike their own special day when vows were exchanged, the embrace was much less intense in light of the daughter to-be-born in-between their bodies.

"You are impossible, my love," Melissa chuckled at long last, still reeling from his confession about the flamboyant gesture in selfishly keeping all that champagne for themselves. She would have thought him silly and insecure for it before - but now?

"And I adore you for it."

Melissa would kill (and die) for him.

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 3 Taste of Success

By Skyler10

Read on Ao3

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

Daisy had a slow week at work and was able to launch a simple wedding website by the following weekend. One page included their story, ending with their coincidentally mutual Christmas proposal. She uploaded photos of the two of them at various stages of their relationship and one of their rings. Daisy remembered with a start that they hadn’t taken engagement photos. Oh well, that shoot could come later even if they just had a friend take a few on a nice day. On the location page, she added a few photos of the chapel she had taken on their visit and typed its address. The registry page would have to stay blank for the moment. Eventually, she’d make a digital RSVP option as well, but before they could decide on and send invitations, they needed to decide on a caterer to know if there was a meal option—and whether they wanted a meal at all or just hors d’oeuvres. 

There were still so many decisions to make. Late one night as she stressed about their long to-do list, Carol reminded her that not every conversation they had at the end of the day had to be wedding choices and researching their options. They needed to also just relax together and talk about other things. Carol had said it gently, trying to avoid a fight, but Daisy surprised her by being relieved at the reminder. They had time. Not much for some things, but enough to still live their lives outside of planning and decision-making.  

They decided to keep the wedding itself small, and the wedding party even smaller. Carol’s lifelong best friend, Maria, would be her bridesmaid with her young daughter, Monica, as flower girl. Daisy’s bridesmaid would be Jemma, with her husband, Fitz, on piano and Elena on violin playing, “She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert.

“But just the two instruments,” Daisy clarified. “No karaoke track cheese, please.” Which Fitz teased her relentlessly about, especially saying that he was going to program a drum kit. Daisy reminded him she had earned her black belt before graduating high school, and that put an end to the teasing… for a while. 

The question of who would walk them down the aisle came up during a video call with Daisy’s parents, during which Phil offered both arms if they wanted to walk down together, but Carol reassured him that her Aunt Wendy would do it. Melinda would walk down first, escorting her parents to their seats, then Wendy and Carol, and then Phil and Daisy. 

Elena’s husband, Mack, was ordained as a minister in their small, progressive church, so he volunteered to officiate. And Elena would help their adorable toddler son, Alfie Jr., in his ringbearer duties. 

That left the people they would need to hire, including catering for the reception, a bakery for the cake, and a photographer. 

—----------

The second Saturday in March, they had a cake tasting at a small but renowned bakery across town. Daisy shoved her laptop into her bag as Carol pulled the car into the bakery’s parking lot.

“Okay, we only have one shot if this is the one we go with, so we have to each pick our top three possibilities, not just what sounds good today,” Daisy said like she was a coach at timeout. 

They got out of the car and walked up to the bakery, but before they went inside, Carol pulled Daisy to the side of the door.

“Hey, let’s enjoy this okay?” She took Daisy’s hand. “It’s a cake tasting! Possibly the most fun part of wedding planning. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Daisy took in deep breaths, as instructed. “Right. You’re right. It’s just cake.” She turned and saw a sample wedding cake in the window with two grooms. “Oh thank god.” 

Carol noticed too. “Is that what you were really stressed about?” 

“Well!” Daisy shrugged. “It’s been in the news for years with the courts and stuff, I just, I don’t know, didn’t want to get yelled at when they realize I’m not your bridesmaid or something.” 

Carol squeezed Daisy’s hand. “I promise. I made sure every bakery I called knew this wedding cake is going to have two little brides on it and they were fine.” She gestured to the two-groom cake on display. “Can we go try sample bites of cake now?” 

“Yes, please,” Daisy said in a bashful voice. Carol opened the door and they went in, determined to enjoy the moment. 

And they did, for the most part. A few of the flavors were not to their taste.

“Hm.” Daisy scrunched her nose. “Not that one, sorry.”

Carol’s eyes widened as she put a different flavor in her mouth. “Ooo! This one.” She pointed with her fork and then had a different idea. “Here.” She put a bite on her fork and lifted it to feed it to Daisy. Daisy helped guide Carol’s hand so they didn’t make a mess. 

“Oh! Wow. Yes.” Daisy reacted once she’d had a moment to taste it. “That might be the one?” 

Carol gave her an “I told you so” look. “I think I could eat that every day and not get tired of it.”   

The baker, a middle-aged man with twinkling dark eyes, returned just in time to see their impressed reaction. He clapped his hands once and inquired, “How are we doing over here, ladies? Have we found a winner?” 

Carol and Daisy exchanged glances and both said, “Yes” at once. 

“What is this one?” Daisy asked. 

“Ah, that flavor is called Happy Ever After. It’s a vanilla with a hint of raspberry and almond and my secret ingredient.” 

Carol took this as a challenge. She leaned her elbows on the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Hmm, butter?”  

The baker laughed and winked. “That’s no secret. Plenty of real butter here. And our traditional recipe buttercream, also with a special ingredient, of course.” 

Carol couldn’t tell whether there really was a secret to the buttercream or if he was just teasing her, so she just nodded. “Ah. Of course.”

“Now.” The baker plopped a heavy photo album on the counter. “Let’s talk design.” 

None of the designs were exactly what Daisy had been picturing so she showed him some photos on her laptop, and he flipped to a different section. In 20 minutes, they had exactly what they wanted all planned out. The baker took notes on each part, from flavor to decoration to a topper. As it turned out, the little brides cake topper would be metaphorical, as they decided on a cascade of flowers wrapping from the top down around the sides of the three small tiers and to the base. 

“And what are your colors?” the baker asked, writing and sketching on his notes. When they hesitated, he looked up. 

Daisy blurted out, “Lavender, silver, navy, and gold.” She looked to Carol for approval. 

“Yeah!” Carol blinked in awe at how easy that was. “That was the palette I picked, though. Are you sure?”  

The baker turned his sketch around so they could imagine the colors on it. 

“I’m sure.” Daisy placed her hand on Carol’s on the counter to assure her it really was what she wanted too. “It’s us.” 

“Excellent,” the baker hummed, more to his notes than to them, lost in his artistic visions. 

And so that was two decisions down, with a million more to go. 

As Daisy and Carol left the bakery, Daisy’s phone rang. 

“Hey, is this Daisy Coulson?” a young woman’s voice asked. 

“That’s me,” Daisy answered as she got in the car and closed the door. “How can I help you?” 

Carol waited to start the car until Daisy could tell her what was happening. Daisy noticed and put the call on speaker.  

“This is Nadia, from Delights Catering. I know this is super last minute, and I told you before that we didn’t have any tasting spots open today, but, um, we’ve had an opening.” 

Daisy picked up on her stress. “Rough day?” 

Nadia admitted, “Not as rough for me as for the couple whose whole wedding party got the flu last night and just now called to cancel. But their order of nearly everything on the menu is almost done, and it might as well be used. We’ll have everything ready if you can be here in the next half hour. And bring family or your wedding party if you want. We’re prepped for 100 over here. And I’ve only got five other couples left on my list to call.” 

Daisy raised her eyebrows in silent question to Carol who nodded enthusiastically. It was past lunchtime and they were getting hungry. Those little cake samples hadn’t been filling. 

“Sure thing, Nadia. We’ll be right over.” Daisy programmed the address of the convention center the catering company operated out of into Carol’s phone and used her own to send a group text to the wedding party, at least their friends in town. Phil and Melinda were too far away, but she sent them a separate text updating them on the cake and colors decision and telling them they were headed over to the caterer. 

Melinda sent back a thumbs up, a sunglasses smiley face, and a cake emoji. Phil sent a gif that said Great Work! and said to let them know how the menu tasting went. 

Carol neared the exit and realized they hadn’t ever decided on what time of day the wedding would be exactly, which would determine what food they decided on from Delights Catering’s menu. 

“We have the venue all day,” Carol reasoned, “so it would be up to us.” 

“What if…” Daisy hesitated to say it, as unromantic as it was. “What if we see what Nadia has on the menu and pricing, and that determines the timing?” 

“Okay, besides food though, when are you picturing this? Evening ceremony with dinner and a reception where we dance into the night? Or more like early afternoon so we can see the park around the chapel with an outdoor reception? I could go either way.” 

“Before I answer that, here’s another factor.” Daisy paused to point to the side street Carol needed to turn down. “Do we want to leave for our honeymoon that night or spend our wedding night at home and then leave the next day? And also, where are we going?” 

“Or, we could stay downtown in a fancy hotel honeymoon suite, so we wouldn’t be far from the airport, and then leave the next day. To wherever.” 

“Yes! Oh. I like that.” Daisy added “find honeymoon suite and destination” to her to-do list. 

Nadia’s cooking and her team’s friendly service didn’t make the decision easy. The basic dinner menu, especially for a small wedding with their approximate guest list number, was definitively in their budget, and the hors d’oeuvres were also delicious. 

“Okay, this lemon pepper chicken, though,” Daisy said to the table, but mostly Carol. 

“And this pasta is amazing.” Carol picked up the menu to see what it was called. “Pasta Barbara.” 

A blonde woman at the table observed them with an amused smile. 

Daisy noticed and caught her eye. “Is it that obvious we are new to this?” 

“No, no,” the woman assured. “It’s just a new menu item inspired by an idea I had. I’m Barbara. Or, well, everyone calls me Bobbi.” 

Carol and Daisy introduced themselves as well. 

The man next to Bobbi spoke up with an English accent. “And you can call me Hunter.”

Carol finished her pasta and put down her fork. “Are you two getting married soon?” 

Bobbi and Hunter laughed. Bobbi explained, “We’ve been married.”

“And divorced,” Hunter added. 

“And married again,” Bobbi concluded. “Now we do the wedding thing professionally. We’re photographers, and I got in the decorating and floral business so I could have more input on the backgrounds and settings for the photos. The photos are what hold your memories of your day for generations to come, so I take it pretty seriously.” 

“And I carry all the equipment.” Hunter smirked. 

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “And he shoots the video. We’re a team. And are you two here to plan a wedding or just friends of Nadia’s called in to help with leftovers?”

Carol slipped an arm loosely around Daisy’s shoulder as Daisy replied, “Planning our wedding. But it’s coming up pretty quick, so we have a lot of decisions to make.” 

Carol looked to Daisy and then back at Bobbi. “We’re actually looking for everything you said you did. We’ve got this great wedding chapel through the parks department on a pond, so it’s a great setting, but the chapel itself is bare bones plain inside.” 

“And the reception hall is just a big empty room, basically,” Daisy explained.

“So,” Bobbi jumped in. “You need a photographer who could do outdoor shots in the park and indoor, and you need a decorator and florist who could handle a small wedding on a budget?” 

Hunter relaxed back in his chair, looking even cockier as Bobbi read their situation exactly. Daisy could tell that though he hid it behind bravado, he was smitten with his wife and partner. 

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Daisy blinked in surprise at fate landing them at this table with the very people they needed to meet. “You can do all that?” 

Hunter raised his glass to her. “That’s our specialty.” 

“Well, I contract out with florists, but I’d handle all the details.” Bobbi searched in her purse and pulled something small out. “Here’s our card.” 

She handed over a business card with their logo, website, phone, and email address. 

“Take a look, rates are all online, and we can work something out,” Hunter said.

“Thank you,” Carol replied. “This is a huge help.” 

Bobbi shrugged. “It’s why we’re here. Nadia helps us and we help her. The wedding business can be pretty cutthroat, all about the right connections, so we formed our little alliance with those we like to work with. She gets the job done right every time, and we get better photos when everyone is fed and happy.” 

Daisy hadn’t considered this, but it was smart. Bobbi’s dedication to her craft to the point that she’d expanded into other areas, formed networks, and knew something about people impressed Daisy before she’d even seen a single photo. And Daisy suspected, if Bobbi had chosen Hunter not only as her husband but business partner, he must be good at his part as well to earn that smug look on his face as he glanced around the room searching for more couples to introduce themselves to. 

Nadia made her way over to their table. “How are we doing, Daisy and Carol? I see you’ve met my friends, Bobbi and Hunter?”

“They were just telling us about their business,” Carol informed her. “Also, I have to tell you, I love this pasta.” 

“And the chicken,” Daisy reminded her. “We have to have the chicken.” 

Nadia got out her notepad. “Okay, so that’s a dinner menu then, we’ve decided?” 

Bobbi spoke up. “Definitely do dinner. Hors d’oeuvres are great, but—no offense, Nadia—it’s easy for people to get skipped over or miss out on their favorites, or they feel like they are chasing plates around if you have wandering waiters.” 

Hunter added, “And if you do a buffet, people wonder why not just do the real food.”

Nadia said, “It’s up to you two, though, and time of day I know was still a question.” 

Daisy and Carol decided together silently, and Carol said aloud, “Dinner, for sure.” 

Nadia wrote down their picks from the menu and promised to follow up on Monday more formally. She called to one of her assistants, who brought them to-go bags of leftovers to take home. It was far too much food for the two of them, so they texted Jemma and Fitz to come over for dinner that night. 

—-------- 

After dinner that night, the four friends moved to the living room and settled in front of the TV after dinner. Daisy sat on the couch near the end table with her laptop and started it up. 

“Mmm wow,” Jemma groaned, “that pasta was so good but now I’m so full.” Fitz patted her hand as he settled in next to her on the couch. 

“Right?” Carol agreed as she set up the TV so Daisy could cast her laptop screen to it. Carol plopped into their Papasan chair and set a pillow on her lap so she could write their impressions of Bobbi and Hunter’s skills on her tablet.

“Ready!” Daisy said, navigating to Bobbi and Hunter’s website. She clicked on their wedding portfolio first and opened just one slideshow of many demonstrating their talents. “Ooo, I like that one.” 

Carol took note of the poses and ideas they oohed and ahhed over, as well as ones she or Daisy didn’t like or Jemma and Fitz warned against from experience just a year before. 

Daisy clicked on more slideshows—some with more creative shots and some more cliche—and they continued until they got to one with outdoor photos, including some at sunset, with two brides. 

“Ohhh,” Daisy exhaled as she paused on one. The sunbeams highlighting the couple’s silhouette were perfect. The couple touched foreheads, with one’s fingers entwined and loosely resting on the back of the other’s neck, and the other’s hands at her bride’s waist.

“Gorgeous,” Jemma said softly. 

Daisy looked over to Carol with hope shining in her eyes. They had to have one like this. 

“Already got it,” Carol confirmed. She squinted in thought. “Sun sets around 8 in June, so if we want it as a wedding shot, we would have to time it right.” 

Jemma reasoned, “Or, remember, we did wedding photos in advance. We didn’t want to have to worry about it the day of, and I didn’t mind if he saw me in the dress ahead of time.”

“I said it was bad luck.” Fitz shrugged. 

Daisy made a pshh sound. “The rain was a sign of good luck. Plus you’re both British, aren’t rainy wedding days sort of the standard where you’re from?” 

“Yes, but see, we live here now,” Fitz pointed out.

Jemma took his hand. “Rain the day of is all the more reason I’m glad we did them in advance.” 

Carol was still distracted by the photo on the TV. If she had a shot of Daisy and her like that, she’d have a print done for their bedroom. She could already picture where to put it on their wall. 

“Moving on,” Daisy announced. “Yes, we’ll try to get some shots with Bobbi and Hunter scheduled in advance.” She added that to her to-do list, which seemed to grow every time she took something off of it. 

Jemma pointed to the screen. “So it sounds like you’re decided then. You’ve got a photographer. And all the other things, yeah?”

Daisy worried her lip. It was a multipoint commitment—and not a cheap one. She caught Carol’s hopeful, subtle nod from across the room. They were doing this. 

“Yeah,” Daisy confirmed as she clicked through to the florals and decorations pages. She had to admit, Bobbi was good. “We’re doing this.” 

Jemma elbowed Fitz, who let out a little “ow!” of surprise. 

“Tell them,” she insisted. 

“Oh, alright,” Fitz sighed. “My cousin Deke is a deejay who does wedding receptions. If you’re looking for someone.” 

Jemma jumped in. “He was the one who deejayed ours, as you might remember, but he’s very popular. He’s probably done 100 since he started a few years ago.” 

Fitz added with a tone of derision, “He wants it to be his full-time job, and he dropped out of NYU to ‘build his business.’” He did air quotes around the last part. 

“Very successfully!” Jemma defended. “Fitz is just jealous. Deke sold his virtual reality simulator to a video game company so he doesn’t really need the work, but Fitz thinks he’s wasting his potential.” 

Fitz rubbed at his neck. “He’s also very … perky.”

Jemma translated, “He’s American and a bit enthusiastic, even for over here. But exactly who you’d want in a deejay.”

Daisy and Carol exchanged amused glances. Carol spoke up, “Sure, send us his contact info and we’ll get in touch.” 

Having a baker, a caterer, a menu, and leads on a photographer/decorator and now a deejay was a lot for a full day, but it also helped them feel like it was really happening. Their wedding was not just a dream but a real event they were hiring vendors for and making decisions about—decisions that would become their lifelong memories.  

[bripops]

Writing Patterns

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to see if there are any patterns!

I was tagged by @redtoblack and this seems fun! I'm including WIPs though because I think that'd be interesting and might spark some motivation to write lol

tbh looking at these I'm seeing a pattern that I start with the setting before anything else, like even if it's not the physical location, it's establishing where the narrator is at mentally. this is neat! tagging @jtownnn because she's so good at tagging me!

Feel the Earth Move (WIP, Dirk Gently/Forces Unseen Sequel)

It wasn’t that Dirk knew Todd was going to propose, not for certain.  There were actually frighteningly few things in life that Dirk knew with total certainty. Gravity was just a theory after all. Time wasn’t linear. Even the universal constant of taxes could be disregarded far more easily than was widely believed; he’d seen as much for himself, and Farah had nearly had a coronary when she’d tried to issue him a W2 and discovered that he didn’t know what his social security number was, if he had one at all.  Just about everything was a matter of guesses, some more educated than others. Sometimes though, when the stream of creation saw fit, Dirk didn’t need to guess, his hunches filling in the blanks for him. He learned to trust them, even when he didn’t quite understand how it all worked.  So when he developed a lingering hunch that Todd was going to propose, Dirk took it at face value and panicked.

we could call it even (WIP, 'tis the damn season seblaine AU)

It was cold when Sebastian stepped off his plane in Columbus, but he hadn’t lived in California long enough yet to forget what winter felt like. He hadn’t been home since August, had purposely stayed in LA for Thanksgiving weekend, but this wasn’t exactly his first white Christmas. He had a hoodie in his backpack for now, and when he got up to the gate he pulled it on. The one from Dalton Academy lacrosse was one of the few he’d brought to school with him and he was comfortable in it; a Dalton boy even now.

hopeless, breathless, burning slow (Dirk Gently)

Dirk is so rarely still that he often forgets what it feels like. Really, he’s always in motion. He runs so much, too much for someone who doesn’t actually like running and whose footwear is almost never appropriate. Too often he finds himself running away from danger, sometimes for his life. The night he’d run away from Blackwing for good, he hadn’t stopped for miles. But it’s not just that.

don't really wanna cool it down (Dirk Gently)

When Tina had asked him and Todd to check out some “weird shit” that had been happening around her friend Jenny’s cabin near the Kaniksu National Forest, Dirk hadn’t necessarily expected to find anything. He’d met some of Tina’s friends, and they all seemed to be on quite a lot of drugs most of the time, so he and Todd agreed that it was more likely than not some kind of hallucinogen making Jenny hear things. Still, they owed Tina after she’d gotten shot on their behalf, and Idaho was halfway to Montana anyway, so they could work in a visit to Bergsberg afterwards.

only one thing left for us to do (Dirk Gently)

The first thing Adrienne said to Dirk the morning after the fight with Rowen was that he looked like a “well-fucked idiot,” which was so far from what Dirk had ever expected to be called that for a split second he forgot he was fluent in French and wondered if he’d mistranslated.

merrier the more (The Magicians, Eliot/Quentin/Fen)

Quentin isn’t sure if he’d forgotten about the masquerade of if no one had told him in the first place. Either is equally possible, but he strongly suspects the latter. Margo and Eliot and even Fen are in their element, fussing over every small detail before they leave for the party. Quentin’s watching Margo adjust the the cascade of curls that’s tumbling down Fen’s back when Eliot’s voice behind him makes him jump. “Aww,” Eliot says, bending so that he can hook his chin over Quentin’s shoulder. “You like her.”

that deviant ingredient (The Magicians, accidental aphrodisiac)

“Hey Q,” Eliot says lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter and enjoying the way Quentin jumps in surprise. “Whatcha eatin’?” He’s not surprised that Quentin is stealing someone else’s food, not really; they all do it and it’s generally accepted that if you don’t ward it against thieves it’s your own fault if it goes missing. What’s surprising is that Quentin is eating Josh’s food. He must be feeling either particularly brave or particularly hungry because even on a good day eating whatever Josh leaves lying around is a risk. “Nothing,” Quentin says, as if he hadn’t just gotten busted with half a cookie still in his mouth. He moves to try to hide the box, but knows he’s been caught and gives up quickly. “Cookies.”

Feels Like Heaven To Me (Dirk Gently, wing!fic)

“You hate them.” “What?” Todd asked, eyes back to Dirk’s face from where they’d been staring at the literal wings that had manifested between his shoulders. “No, I don’t hate them, I’m just… wow.” He and Dirk had been together for about three months when Dirk had said very seriously, “I need to show you something.” When he’d taken off his shirt Todd hadn’t known what to expect; they’d seen each other naked countless times, but he’d never seen Dirk like this. He’d never seen anyone with wings at all, and quite frankly he wasn’t surprised as he probably should have been. It wasn’t even in the top five of weird things he’d seen that month. His life was kind of insane.

cross my heart (and hope to die) (Dirk Gently)

It started as most things in Dirk’s life did: with a crisis. Dirk hadn’t previously been aware that there was such a thing as an orchid crisis, but as he hid on a boat somewhere between Vancouver and Seattle, he knew it was very real. Over $100,000 in rare orchids had gone missing, and for whatever reason, their client was extremely eager to get them back. While following a lead, he and Todd had uncovered a massive botanical smuggling ring, a fact that Todd was not happy about. “I hate boats,” Todd said, looking a little green. “I haven’t stepped on one since the whale watching incident of 1999.” Dirk didn’t ask what the whale watching incident of 1999 was; judging by the look on Todd’s face it likely involved some sort of sea sickness and quite possibly an actual whale. “We’ll be back in Seattle soon,” Dirk said, ignoring the fact that they’d technically crossed the Canadian border illegally twice. “Farah and the police will meet us there, and we’ll be back on land before you know it. All we have to do is stay hidden for the next half hour, and then we’ll be fine.”

Forces Unseen (Dirk Gently)

It was October in Seattle; mild but gray, clouds covering the view of Mt. Rainier, with just enough rain to remind everyone that in a few weeks they’d be getting ready for winter. Todd was bored and Dirk was antsy and Farah was ready to kill them both. Boredom made Todd grumpy, which was made worse by Dirk’s inability to keep still or stay quiet for more than twenty minutes at a time. Farah just wanted them to submit their damn expense reports, but no one seemed willing to do that for a month that hadn’t had any real case-related expenses. Todd was fully prepared to eat the $15 he’d spent on snacks for a stakeout if it meant he wouldn’t have to do any paperwork, but Farah was insistent. Needless to say, things around the office were a bit tense. Todd hit his limit after five minutes of listening to Dirk slowly peel the foil off a chocolate coin. “Unwrap it or don’t,” he snapped, only partially because he was mad that Dirk had chocolate he hadn’t offered to share. “The chocolate will still be there if you rip the foil.” Dirk had the nerve to look offended. “And risk destroying potential clues?” he asked. “I think not.” “It’s a chocolate coin you got at the dollar store,” Todd intoned. “It’s probably not even real chocolate.” “You’re probably not even real chocolate,” Dirk responded, not looking up from his work. It didn’t make any sense as a retort, but Todd threw a pencil at his head anyway.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Second Duke's the Charm by Kate Bateman

Rating: 3.75/5 Heat Level: 3.5/5 Publication Date: December 26th

Premise:

Tess Townsend, the dowager Duchess of Wansford, was widowed and left a virgin after her decrepit husband dropped dead before their wedding night. Two years later, Tess wants to learn about sex and intimacy, and finds a handsome stranger to do just that with at a house party. As it later turns out, the stranger is none other than Justin Thornton, the new Duke of Wansford.

My review:

There's a lot I enjoyed about this book— the friendship between Tess, Daisy, and Ellie was a delight to read. They are truly Tess's ride-or-dies and can be relied upon for anything from moving a dead body to giving sartorial advice on lingerie. And I loved the detective agency aspect, which made for a fun subplot.

This book is pretty sex-positive as far as historical romances go, which I did appreciate. A lot of it is about Tess's sexual exploration as a widow (all while her friends gleefully egg her on), and there's frank conversations about virginity being a social construct, contraception, and pregnancy.

Regarding the romance of it all, there isn't a lot of the conflict you'd expect between an upper-class aristocrat and a self-made magnate who is the heir to her late-husband's title, especially after their first encounter was anonymous. Justin is a very cool and rational sort, so he skips a the melodrama in the early stages of their relationship and immediately proposes a marriage of convenience (which, as one of Tess's friends points out, has as much to do with his dick as it does for "sensible" purposes, as he ostensibly claims). The drama only comes into play post-marriage as Justin starts to fall in love with Tess (which he swore he'd never do but... of course he does), all while growing increasingly paranoid about his wife's intentions towards him. Tess, on the other hand, is just vibing around truffle hunting and trying to foil blackmail plots lolol. Ultimately, Justin's big grovel (yes, there's a grovel) is about humbling himself by doing something extremely dumb and illogical after he spent the entire book trying to treat their marriage as a purely unemotional endeavor.

My one note regarding the plot is that there are lots of seemingly high-stakes situations initially set up: there's a blackmail plot, a possible attempted murder plot, plus, Tess hasn't told her husband she co-owns a detective agency (similar to the subplots in many a Grace Callaway Lady Charlotte's Society of Angels book). They were set up well, but as the book went on, I feel like they grew increasingly low-stakes and the outcomes were somewhat underwhelming.

The sex:

There are plenty of hot and inadvertently funny moments during sex scenes because Tess is trying *so hard* to seem like a sexually-experienced woman when she's very much.... not, but the greatest thing is, it mostly works. Like, starting from their first encounter at the masquerade, Tess has Justin (allegedly the smooth, unemotional type) WHEEZING after a mid handjob. And that sets the stage for their sexual relationship through the rest of the book. Some of my favorite moments include:

a) Their wedding night for the reasons mentioned above I won't spoil it but Tess's plan was hysterical), plus, I love a good "say my name" moment.

b) There is a great carriage scene, and I will say, I do appreciate the inclusion of dirty print images as a form of (inadvertently hands-on) sex education

c) For those of us who felt *cheated* by that scene in A Wallflower Christmas by Lisa Kleypas where St. Vincent insinuates he's going to use a pearl necklace on Evie, except we never saw the follow-through... this is your book.

Overall:

If you're looking for a fun, light historical romance centered around sexual exploration and plenty of girl-gang shenanigans, then I'd recommend this book!