#i could get a desk that actually fits over the recliner

[thedisablednaturalist]

I might invest in a lazy boy style recliner chair. Idk if I'd have room for it in my room tho. I've laid in them before and have definitely felt better. Any suggestions?

[scuttlingcrab]

Raphael telling Tav, "I've grown quite fond of you, in my way. Perhaps too fond."

Thank you so much for this prompt! I thought it would be fun to feature Tailor Tav, from A Perfect Fit and Dressed to Kill, as there is another prompt I recieved I'm hoping to feature her in soon. x

Summary: Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Shadowy Deals

(Image via adevilyoudo)

Raphael reclined in his chair, watching Tav from across the entranceway of the Last Light Inn. He crossed his legs, comfortably resting an arm on the table as he studied the creature; his eyes gleaming, gazing with focus. 

She was such an odd, clumsy little thing. Traipsing through the Sword Coast, narrowly surviving one fight, one obvious hazard after another. The foolish creature had nearly gotten herself killed by that True Soul Gut, somehow believing the Priestess would actually help with the parasite. 

He shouldn’t be surprised at the blatant stupidity, afterall a drowning mortal will clutch at a twig. If it wasn’t for Raphael, her corpse and his recent schemes would be rotting away in that cell. And all for naught. His blood seethed at the thought of being set back another century if this current ploy was foiled.

Tav had failed to acknowledge Raphael’s presence the entire evening as she conducted her dealings in the lodging, continuously stomping up and down the stairs with her ragtag companions following suit. He had purposely positioned himself in a perfect location, one where no one would miss him upon entering the Inn, or so he thought. He even proudly donned the new doublet, never leaving his House of Hope without it since Tav had it delivered to him. The little mouse could do with more perceptive eyes.

There was no need for Raphael’s mood to be soured due to Tav’s negligence. He was still quite content after his lanceboard victory against Mol. He had effortlessly presented that cheeky tiefling with her proposition, and now all he had to do was wait. It was a cushy contract and one that offered Raphael heaps of benefits. Mol was a cunning wee thing, and Raphael always needed ambitious creatures under his employment. It was a win for them both.

However, all of that was merely to pass the time. He did find pleasure in dipping into his past successes in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but there was only so much reminiscing he could do in one evening before he bored himself to death. Raphael had mortals to skin, souls to collect; he needed to make better use of his time than sit there, waiting to be noticed. He was only present for that coy creature, and he will get an audience. Needs must when the devil drives…

Shouting unexpectedly came from the other room, pulling Raphael’s focus away from Tav. Shadowheart and Lae'zel were in some sort of disagreement; they were screaming down each other's throats, swords drawn, and on the verge of bloodshed. 

Raphael let out a dramatic sigh, he had no interest in their petty mortal qualms. He tilted his head, eyes returning to Tav. He took her in with a newfound satisfaction; captivated by the sudden air of authority she had over her companions as she jumped in between the bickering imbeciles in an attempt to quiet them. The creature did have her charms, whether Raphael liked to admit it or not.

Jaheira slammed a fist on her desk, lights flickering sporadically around the Inn. 

“Silence!” Her voice boomed through every room of the establishment, causing bottles and bookshelves to tremble. 

Harpers rose from their seats, drawing swords and readying bows at Jaheira’s change of temper. Raphael smirked, amused by the growing tension. He could hear each erratic heartbeat, smell the treacly scent of fear leaking from nearly every mortal within the vicinity. 

Jaheira scowled at the adventurers, eyeing each of the companions in turn as she spoke. 

“We do not fight amongst ourselves here. If you want to bicker like cubs then take it back to your camp. This will be your only warning.” 

Jaheira stared at Shadowheart and Lae'zel a moment longer before returning to the desk, continuing her work. 

Shadowheart and Lae'zel hissed like a pair of feral cats and stomped their separate ways. The vampire spawn, who always seemed to lurk about, just rolled his eyes, muttering something to himself before disappearing into the shadows.

Tav’s posture slumped as she watched her friends leave. Her face sagged, the brightness in her eyes fading. For the first time all evening she looked exhausted, no longer forced to wear the cracked facade she had built up around her companions. 

After a moment of silence, the tired creature shook her head and dragged herself to the bar. 

Raphael clapped his hands together, sparks flying from his fingertips. He had waited so long for this moment he thought it would never come, relieved he no longer had to make another visit to that squalid camp in order to speak with Tav. Despite his heart thundering in his chest, he rose gracefully from the seat, slowly pushing in the chair.

Raphael straightened his doublet, making sure it was flawless; no creases or wrinkles in sight, and sauntered his way towards the little mouse. 

The hour had grown late and most of the surrounding area towards the back of the Last Light Inn was vacant, leaving Raphael alone with Tav. Any Harpers still awake cleared out after the scuffle, some returning to their posts scattered around the Inn.

Tav poured herself some ale and took a massive sip. She groaned in frustration, refilling the tankard and plopping down on the nearest stool. Raphael followed her lead, filling up his own mug before slithering to the other side of the bar. 

Tav stared intensely into the tankard, as if searching for a greater meaning in the liquid. She was still covered in blood, her dainty hands caked in dirt and grime. Her clothes were torn and faded, far from the immaculate article of clothing she had gifted Raphael weeks prior. When was the last time she bathed? Did his little mouse have no ounce of dignity showing herself in such a manner outside of camp? Raphael made a note to himself to rectify this error if he was to continue with his antics. 

“On a night most foul, the weary traveller sought refuge, searching for answers hidden in plain sight…” Raphael projected his voice to Tav from across the counter, twirling his fingers along the edges of the mug.

Tav took a sip of ale as she glanced up in the direction of Raphael’s voice. She goggled in disbelief when she locked eyes with him. The creature choked, nearly coughing up the beverage. She haphazardly used her sleeve to wipe away the ale dripping from her nose and mouth, trying to save herself from the embarrassment. Worry not, little mouse, your self respect was lost long ago. 

“R-Raphael?!” 

Raphael tilted his head, bowing slightly. 

“If it isn’t my esteemed tadpoled friend. It’s so good to see you again and surprisingly still with your wits about you. How have you been managing as of late? By the ghastly state of your clothing, my guess is not very well.” 

Tav’s cheeks flushed, as if a fire had been lit underneath her. She hid behind her tankard, taking another massive drink of ale. 

“To be honest, this area is a bit more trouble than we expected… and you know, we’re a bit pressed for time with these, uh…” Tav pointed to her skull, wiggling her fingers in a cheap attempt at imitating the tadpoles. “Things, swimming around.”

“Very true. Time is of the essence, but that doesn’t mean we need to be reckless, my dear. On that note, I have been meaning to pick your brain, on a small matter…”

The creature opened her mouth as if to respond to Raphael, but he continued.  

“Did you really think the Priestess would remove your tadpole without consequence? Did I not warn you there is no cure outside of my assistance?”

Tav shrugged. She squeezed the tankard in between her hands, her knuckles turning white.  

“I was... just exploring my options and that Priestess was pretty damn convincing, just didn’t think she’d lock me up. I’m surprised Korrilla managed to find me in time.”

“I see, not even a thank you for my aid. It’s never too late, even for you, to learn a few manners.” 

Tav narrowed her eyes. Raphael grinned, raising his mug. He took a sip of ale and shuddered, a chill crawling up his spine. The ale somehow burned his infernal tongue, leaving an acidic taste in his mouth.

“Truly a horrid substance…” Raphael sputtered. 

He snapped his fingers, replacing the so-called ale with a finer, richer red wine. He took a sample of the new beverage to clean his palate, nodding to himself in approval.

”So, Korrilla…” Tav began.

“One moment please, if you would allow me… ”

Raphael snapped his fingers again and Tav’s tankard burst into flames. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool. Moments later, the fire subsided, revealing a sparkling silver chalice in its wake. 

“Your theatrics will be the death of me, Raphael.” 

”I cannot sit here and willingly allow you to drink such filth in my presence. My apologies for the interruption, you may proceed.”

Tav gave Raphael a chiding stare and hesitantly picked up the chalice, smelling the wine. 

“I take offence you think I would stoop so low, even after you indulged in my sumptuous spread at the House of Hope. It is safe, I assure you.”

Tav tasted the wine, her posture straightening as soon as it touched her lips. She let herself relax, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Fair enough… I still prefer the ale.”

Raphael scoffed, contemplating snapping the remaining ale out of existence to spite the little mouse. He made another mental note to track down the mortal who deemed that abominable ale acceptable.

“Anyways, as I was saying, if Korrilla has been sneaking around all this time, watching us… then why didn’t she help with that Giyanki ambush? We were nearly wiped out earlier.”

”She was preoccupied.”

“And what were you bloody doing? If you have such an interest in us, I’d expect some more participation, at least.”

“Why I was in this very Inn, catching up with friends old and new. If you merely learned to open your eyes, you would see my presence is everywhere. You had a Psionic Detector, did you not? That should’ve given you a sufficient amount of warning. I will not be able to watch you every waking hour, no matter the temptation.”

There was a pause, Tav avoided Raphael’s eyes as she continued with her drink. Raphael covertly twirled a finger, refilling Tav’s chalice so it always remained full, unbeknownst to the creature. 

Tav was starting to sway slightly, her eyes glazing over only just. She was frowning less the more she drank, that smile he enjoyed returning to her lips. 

“Besides, my auspicious friend, why charge gallantly into battle when you can be focusing on more meaningful pursuits?”

Tav laughed into her cup, taking another mouthful.

“You’re mad. What more could I possibly do when there’s a fight with bloody Ketheric Thorm waiting for us around the corner? And not to mention the fate of the entire world is at stake!”

Raphael considered her outburst for a moment, enjoying the little mouse unravelling before his eyes. 

“Perhaps I should have been more frank in our last conversation. My proposal still stands. I am itching for something new, something fresh…”

Raphael gestured towards the doublet by extending his arm and flicking his wrist. Tav rested her chin on her palm, squinting as she attempted to focus on Raphael. She continued to sway, side to side, dancing to a phantom tune. Her mouth fell open, eyes growing in size when she finally put two and two together.

“Oh gods! I didn’t realise you were still wearing it.”

“My dear, I would have you know I’ve done nothing but show off this doublet. You’ve caused quite the stir in my inner circles. I know a devil or two who might be keen on getting their claws on something similar.” And let them try, let them be jealous. Raphael would not allow it. The little mouse belonged to him, there would be no clothing like his in the Hells or on any other plane. 

“Ha! You want me to make clothes for your devil friends?” Tav’s laughter grew more rambunctious.

Raphael clenched his teeth and slowly inhaled. He interlaced his fingers on the countertop in hopes of keeping his composure. Conversing with drunkards was more tortuous than dealing with insipid children! Raphael loathed repeating himself, it was a waste of his breath and talent as a devil. The mortals were to blame if they were too daft to keep up with his terms, or failed to understand the meaning behind his bespoke rhymes. 

“No, my presumptuous little mouse. I want you to make clothes for me and only me. Permanently.”

“Oh, uh… wait, aren’t you supposed to offer me something in return?”

“I will make sure you are handsomely rewarded. There are some additional objectives that I will present to you and your companions in due time, but that is a separate matter.”

“Hmmm… right, right! You did ask me this before.” 

Tav stared at Raphael, burrows furrowed in thought. He returned her gaze, allowing himself to disappear into her eyes, loosening up as he drowned in those blue irises. His skin prickled in anticipation of her answer. He took a sip of wine, wetting his drying mouth. 

“Yea… y-you know what, it could be fun, why… the hell not!”

Tav reached towards her chalice but accidentally hit it, causing it to spill over the countertop. Her elbow slipped off the counter and she toppled backwards. 

Raphael snapped his fingers and instantly appeared behind Tav, catching her. She was lighter than a feather and landed softly in his arms. She started cackling, pointing towards the wine slowly dripping onto the floor.

“Oooops. R-really sorry for the mess. Rapha… Hey, you… you know, you’re really fast.” Tav’s eyes tried to focus on Raphael but instead were moving around the ceiling. The creature had been reduced to a babbling infant.

“Tut, tut, the little mouse cannot handle her drink. What are we to do?”

“It…one drink… was only one.”

Tav’s eyes fluttered, yet her giggling carried on. She tried to raise her head but it lolled sideways, causing those luscious brown curls to obstruct half of her face.

There was a faint twinkle in Raphael’s eyes as he stared at the creature so helpless in his arms, her intoxicated daze was a most welcoming sight indeed. He grinned. There was so much promise in this moment; so many things he wished he could do, places he yearned to whisk her away to… but that was for another time. He needed to gain her trust, solidify their relationship. 

"I've grown quite fond of you, in my way…” Raphael moved Tav’s hair out of her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. “Perhaps too fond.”

“Mmm… Clothes, so nice… I, craft you… anything, always…” Her incoherent drivel faded before she melted into his arms, her body becoming limp.

Raphael observed the little mouse as he continued to caress her hair. She breathed slowly, blissfully unaware of the devil holding her in his fiery embrace, or the delicious deal she had just agreed to. Raphael pulled Tav closer, his fingers tingling as they held her.

He would sort the contract on the morrow and present it to the little mouse when she was of a clearer mind. He needed to see her face when she realised what she had done, when she understood what was truly expected of her. For now, let the creature sleep. She needed all the rest she could get for what awaited her in the coming days. 

Raphael huffed, it seemed he would be forced to revisit that decrepit camp after all. The creature will need to repay him for his kindness. He stood back from the bar, concentrating on an open space in front of him. A blistering portal materialised, flames crackling as it waited for him to step through. 

He approached the portal, pondering what sort of commission he would demand first.

[boldlyvoid]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky | Part Four: Forever and Always

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: desk duty, new co-workers, bonding with Jack, decorating Juliette's room, baby showers and unwanted guests... the second half of this pregnancy is full of surprises.

Warnings: emotional chats, canon typical violence (a young girl passes away), implied smut, angst, fighting (not Aaron and Y/N), birth talk

Word Count: 9.1k

Masterlist

another 8 weeks blew by and suddenly she’s halfway through this pregnancy and her clothes really don’t fit as well and she’s extra tired. She was right about being sicker in the second trimester… man, did it ever suck having constant acid reflux and feeling like she was on the edge of throwing up every few hours if she wasn’t constantly eating snacks… and eating snacks all the time made her grow not just in the stomach region. Her thighs are getting bigger, her ass is firmer and her tits are fucking huge. Her face is rounder, her hands and feet are swollen, and she’s uncomfortable almost all day long.

It’s rough but worth it. 

She’s sitting at her desk, reclined in her chair and her feet are up on a box of files. She has a ginger ale and a sleeve of crackers open as she works away. Today's the first day of official desk duty and up until 20 minutes ago, she thought there wouldn’t be a real case. Derek rushed from his office over to Aarons, they shut the door to talk and the Cruz showed up too. 

“Hey…” a familiar voice makes her presence known behind her. 

Y/N sits up straighter and turns to her, “Tara, you made it!” She stands up and opens her arms for a hug that Tara graciously accepts, she holds her close for a moment, not too tight, she doesn’t want to press against her bump too hard. 

“Sorry it took so long, trying to find my work attire in my boxed-up mess of an apartment took a while,” she explains. Moving from San Fransisco to D.C. wasn’t easy, but she made it. 

“That’s fine, we haven’t been busy… but I think something’s happening,” she points up at Aaron's office. “Derek and Cruz are in there right now, but it doesn’t look like they’re rushing to solve anything so, let’s get you introduced to everyone.” 

Y/N walks her around most the desks, she introduces Tara a handful of times to all the people who work in the bullpen and Tara shakes everyone's hand. However, the only person who wouldn’t shake her hand isn’t actually in today.

“And this is Dr. Reid's desk, he’s our resident genius,” she says as they arrive at it. “He’s handling some family issues but he will be back next week and he’s only a phone call away if the team needs him.” 

“I’ve heard about him, I’m excited to get to know him.”

“Just up these stairs is JJ’s desk,” she explains, slowly taking the steps one at a time and holding the railing. She’s been off balance a lot lately and the last thing she wants is to fall. 

Once she’s up the stairs, she knocks on JJ’s open door, “Hey, Tara’s here.” 

“Oh, hi,” JJ stands up, also pregnant but carrying her baby a lot lower. 

Y/N never used to believe that you could tell what gender a woman was carrying just based on bump and then she got pregnant with a girl while JJ had a boy… their bumps are so different. JJ carries wide and low while Y/N’s bump is like a perfect ball under her shirt. 

“What’s in the water here?” Tara teases, shaking JJ’s hand. “Thank god I moved here alone, I wouldn’t want to be next.” 

“The lady I replaced, Kate, also left to have a baby,” Y/N teases. 

“Oh wow, I guess it’s your age group though, all my friends were pregnant in their 30 too,” Tara shares. “I’d much rather be a stepmom someday.” 

“It’s really rewarding,” Y/N admits with a sweet smile. “Aaron’s son is the sweetest kid.” 

“He gets it from his dad,” Tara teases, knowing Aaron only through a few interviews and phone calls, she only knows this happy, new Aaron. The Aaron that’s overjoyed with his perfect family and not overstressed with work. 

After JJ, they head out of the bullpen and down to Penelope’s office where Luke is sitting with her, trying to flirt his way into her heart. 

“Hey, guys,” she cuts into their conversation, “our new member is in, this is Tara and Tara this is Luke Alvez and our tech girlie, Penelope.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she shakes Luke's hand first and then Penelope pulls her in for a hug, “oh, hi,” she melts into Penelope’s arms. 

“Welcome, I’ve heard so many wonderful things, I can’t wait to work with you,” Penelope says, still holding Tara close. 

“Same here,” Tara says as she pulls back. 

“Speaking of, do you know what Hotch, Morgan and Cruz are all talking about?” Y/N asks. “They’ve been in Aaron’s office for a while now.” 

“There’s a presidential threat,” Penelope explains. “They’ve been asked for a consult but I don’t think it’s a case for us.” 

“Oh, okay,” Y/N’s surprised. That’s a new one. She never thought they’d have to consult on a presidential threat, but it must be a big one. “Tara, I can show you to your office now?” 

“I get a whole office?” She’s surprised. 

Y/N nods, “We thought since you’ll still be interviewing the serial killers, you’d want a space to talk on the phone without prying ears.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Tara exclaims, visibly happy with her choice to join the unit. “I’ll see you guys out there,” she says as she follows Y/N back out of Penelope's space and down the hall. 

She brings her back into the bullpen just as JJ is leaving her office and rushing over to Aarons, she sees Y/N and Tara and shouts over to them. “We have a 10-year-old girl who was just abducted from a park in Wauwatosa!” 

“Shit, okay,” Y/N stops dead in her tracks. “I’ll continue the tour later… Anderson,” she shouts over to him. “Can you grab Penny and Luke, and tell them to meet us in the briefing room? Tara and I will meet them there,” she orders and pulls Tara towards the other set of stairs towards the round table. 

Y/N cleans the older files off the table and powers up the presentation board, she logs onto the computer it’s attached to and searches the system for abductions in Wauwatosa so they can read over the file quickly while the plane gets ready. CARD already has a case going with everything they know. She loads it up and starts reading over it as fast as she can with Tara doing the same as she takes a seat at the round table. 

The team is quick to fill the room, they discuss what little they know and then JJ gets a call from the pilot to tell her that they’re ready to board. “Okay, we gotta go,” JJ says as she hangs up. 

Derek, Tara, Luke and JJ all rush out the door to grab their things while Aaron takes a minute to say goodbye to Y/N. He wraps her up in a hug and cups her face in one hand as he pulls back, his other hand gently rubs on her belly, “I love you, both of you.” 

“Be safe,” she begs. “Come home to us.” 

He nods, leaning in to kiss her. He breathes her in, holding her in a kiss and then just as she thinks he’s pulling away for good, he kisses her again and again. She can feel everyone watching them through the briefing room window, but she doesn’t really care. She keeps kissing him, smiling slightly, she loves how affectionate he gets before he has to go. When he does eventually pull away, he sighs. “I love you. Now, you call me if you need me, okay?” 

“Okay,” she can’t help but smile. “Go save the day, superman.” 

He hesitates to keep going but he knows the plane is waiting for them and he still has to grab his bag from his office. But fuck it, he thinks. He pulls her in for one last kiss and then he’s off. 

She follows him out of the briefing room, he’s a lot faster than she is so he's leaps ahead of her, “I can text Jess from the plane or you can get Jack tonight?” 

“I can get him,” she offers, breathing heavily from walking so fast. “All his things are at our house now so it’ll be easier if I get him.”

At his office door, she watches him pick up his bag and search the room for his phone. He pats his side to ensure his guns are still there and pulls up his pant leg to check the other gun. He’s all good to go, so he lets out a sigh, his shoulders drop and his brow goes up as if to say, “I guess this is goodbye.” 

“Call me when you can, I love you,” she says one last time, stepping out of the door frame so he can squeeze past. 

He runs his free hand over her stomach as he moves past her, “I love you—” 

“Hotch, man, we get it, you’re in love, lets goooo,” Morgan says from the double glass doors, the teams already in the elevator, on their way down to the shuttle car that will take them to the runway. 

“Get going,” she scoots him along. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he complains as he runs down the little steps and heads off after Morgan. He turns back to her just before leaving the room, he blows her a kiss and then he’d gone. 

She just smiles, shaking her head, everyone is watching her with the same sweet look. It’s nice to see Aaron like this, having their boss in love has been a blessing, they appreciate this. He’s not as much of a hard ass anymore. 

“Back to work,” she teases everyone. 

She lets out a sigh, it’s weird when he’s not around. And instead of going back to sitting at her desk, she grabs her snacks and makes her way down to Penny’s office. Where she will stay for the remainder of the day. 

—

Jack’s school ends at 3:20 but afterwords he has his activity program. It goes on all year long, they spend the first 45 minutes working on homework and then the rest of the afternoon playing some kind of sport or game until their parents come to pick them up. It stays open until a quarter after 6, ensuring that the children have a safe place to be while their parents finish the work day. 

A few months ago, Aaron went into the school and changed Jack's 2nd emergency contact from Will to Y/N. They bumped will down to the 3rd spot, but as long as Y/N’s going to be at home either pregnant or watching their daughter, she will be available to watch Jack. 

She arrives at the school around 5:30, makes her way inside to the gym and finds the sign-out table quite easily. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, Jack Hotchner’s step-mom, I’m here to sign him out.” 

“Oh okay, one sec,” the girl starts flipping through sheets of paper and lands on Jack's file. She can’t be older than 17, she’s just a high school student getting her volunteer hours working with the elementary school's activity program. “Can I just see your id?” 

“Sure,” she quickly pulls out her FBI badge cause it’s quicker than getting her license from her purse. 

“Oh wow,” she can’t believe she’s meeting an agent. “Isn’t Jack's dad an agent too?” 

She nods, “he is, he’s away on a case.” 

“Are you not allowed to go when you’re pregnant,” she asks, referring to her baby bump. 

“You’re allowed, I just don’t feel comfortable,” she shares with a small smile. “Can I go in and get him?” 

“Yep, um, here,” she opens the door for Y/N and all the kids look to see who it is. 

“Mom!” Jack calls out, running to her side. “What are you doing here?” 

He hasn’t ever called her mom to her face before. She tears up a bit but hugs him back, “Your dads on a case so I thought I’d come to get you and we could go get dinner?” 

“Can we go to McDonalds?” He asks, “I really want some chicken nuggets.” 

She laughs, “Yeah that sounds delicious, go get your bag.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to say goodbye to everyone and get his things, she gets him loaded up into the car and he begs to sit in the passenger seat beside her. “Not until you’re 13,” she reminds him and he sulks a bit. 

“I just like sitting beside you.” 

“Then we’ll get a booth at McDonalds and you can sit with me there, okay?” 

He drops it then and simply puts on his seatbelt while she gets in the front seat. She asks him about school, and he asks where his dad is in the country, they share little stories and laugh a bit while she drives. She always dreamed about being a mom, about these little moments with her kid… having them with Jack is even better. 

She takes him inside the restaurant to order, the nice lady taking their order offers to bring them their food when she sees how pregnant she is and so they go find a seat. Jack sits right beside her, snuggles into her side and places his hand on her belly, “how long until she’s here?” 

“She’ll be born sometime in September,” she reminds him again. “Do you want to know what we decided to name her?” 

“Can I?” His eyes light right up. 

She nods, “We kept it a secret for a bit just to see if we really like it and we do, it’s definitely her name… we’re going to call her Juliette.” 

“Juliette,” he swoons, loving it. He kisses her belly again, “I love you Juliette!”

She just smiles, loving where she is in life. “Your dad and I wanted to ask you for some help with her middle name.” 

“Really?” He looks up at her with wide eyes, he can’t believe it. 

She nods, “She’s your baby too. I want you to feel as loved as she is, I would hate for you to feel like we’re replacing you or that your dad has a new family. We’re a family all together.” 

He smiles, really appreciating that she wants to include him so much. “Can I think about it?” 

“Yeah, take your time,” she doesn’t mind at all. 

When their food arrives, they break into their chicken nuggets and talk all about the new comic book he’s been reading. He reminds her a lot of Spencer when he starts talking about his super hero’s, it’s cute. 

“What if we named her Juliette Hale Hotchner?” He asks. 

“Hale,” she thinks it over, it sounds cute. “Like Haley?” 

He nods, “Cause then she’s still in the family.” 

It makes her heart ache for him, there’s no way she can say no to this. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s her name. Juliette Hale sounds perfect.” 

He gets so giddy, bouncing in the seat, “I can’t wait to meet her.” 

She takes her phone out and starts to look up the meaning of the name, just to see what else it could mean. Her heart almost stops when she see’s it, “Oh my god, Jack look, Hale literally means Hero.”

“It does?” He can’t believe it either. “What does my mom's name mean?” 

“Hold on,” she says as she searches it. “Hay cleaner, hay meadow, wise one and hero…” 

“thats cool, my mom was a hero,” he says proudly. 

She searches his name next, “Your name means god is gracious, so you’re a god and your moms a hero.” 

“What about Dad?” 

She looks up 'Aaron' and smiles when she sees it. “Teacher and Mountain of Strength, very true.” 

“He is strong,” Jack agrees. “Is that why you like him?” 

“No, I like him because he’s soft,” she shares with a sweet smile. “My last husband wasn’t nice to me and when I told your dad that, he just wanted to protect me. He gave me a hug, he helped me clean up my bloody nose, he got me a good divorce lawyer, he was my best friend and I fell in love with him.” 

“I’m really glad you fell in love with him.” 

“Me too,” she wraps her arm around him and holds him close. “I love you too, you know.” 

“I know,” he snuggles in close. “I love you, too.” 

—

She gets him all tucked into bed that night, she kisses his little head and she heads back downstairs to finish locking up for the night. She cleans up the living room, sets the alarm and starts heading back to the stairs when her phone starts to ring in her purse. 

It’s Aaron. 

She answers with a smile, “Hey, handsome.” 

“Hey,” he answers, he sounds sad. 

“How's the case?” 

“She died. I had to inform her parents… but we caught the sick fuck who did it,” he explains, his sadness turning to anger. “Is Jack still up?” 

“No, I’m sorry, he just fell asleep,” she explains. “I’m so sorry Arron, are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he sucks in a deep breath and sighs. “It just sucks. We’re going to fly back in the next hour, I should be home around 2 or 3.” 

“Wake me up when you get in?” She asks, “Please? I miss you and I have something nice to tell you.” 

“Oh, can’t you tell me now?” 

She shakes her head, “mm-mm, sorry. I rather tell you in person.” 

“I see how it is,” he teases right back. “Well, we’ve gotta drive to the airport now so I’ll let you go. Try and get some sleep before I get in, yeah?” 

“You too. The files can wait. Have a nap on the plane,” she says, more of an order than a suggestion. 

“I’ll try. I love you.” 

“I love you too, bye.” 

“Bye,” he has the last word and then he hangs up. 

She sighs, the silence in the house is weird. She turns all the lights out but one lamp by the front door and the porch light. All the doors are locked, the alarm is on, and he has his keys and knows the code so she heads upstairs. She stops by Jack's door to listen in, making sure he’s still asleep and then she continues on to her room. She changes, puts cream on her belly and grabs a parenting book. 

She gets maybe 3 pages in when she slips into sleep, sitting up against the pillows and her lamp light still on. 

—

Aaron gets in around 3, like he said he would, the alarm goes off momentarily but he disarms it and resets it as soon as he can. He turns out the lamp light, leaves his bags by the door and heads right upstairs. He could see her bedroom light was still on from the street, he hoped she was asleep and not still awake and waiting for him. 

He tiptoes down the hallway and slowly pushes her bedroom door open. She’s sound asleep. Mouth open, book discarded on the bed, she’s out. 

He carefully sits on the side of the bed, he runs his hand over her arm, “lovey…” he whispers, watching her slowly wake. She blinks a few times and then she smiles when she notices it’s him. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” she whispers back. 

He leans in and kisses her a few times, it’s only been 16 hours since he saw her last but that doesn’t matter. He missed her. She wraps her arms around him as best she can and hugs him, breathing him in, she missed him too. 

When he pulls back he smiles, “Let me change and we can snuggle up and talk, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agrees. 

He heads into the closet and opens his safe, he puts his guns away first and locks them up. He takes his suit off and hangs it up next, he finds a new t-shirt and slips it on as well as a new pair of boxers. When he returns she’s turned the lights out and she’s laying on her side, facing his side of the bed, so he quickly gets in with her. 

Once he’s in the bed, he sighs, he loves their bed. He loves her. He’s missed being home even if he was only gone a day. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” she slightly laughs. “You?” 

“Same… but I still want to talk to you.” 

“Good, 'cause I have big news,” she teases. “I told Jack her name tonight, we went to McDonald's for dinner and he was asking about when she’d be here… I told him he could pick her middle name too.” 

“Oh?” 

“He picked out Hale,” she explains, carefully watching his face in the darkness to make sure he’s okay with it too. “It means hero, but he said it also keeps his mom in the family.” 

Aaron stays silent for a moment and then reaches out to hold his hand over her belly, “Juliette Hale… I like it.” 

“It’s kinda perfect,” she admits. 

“Our family is perfect,” he whispers, clearly a little teary. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she replies, leaning in to capture his lips against her own. 

—

Another 5 weeks have come and gone, over a dozen new cases too. 

Spencer’s back finally, his mom in a new care facility over in D.C., Tara and Luke are so settled in it feels like they’ve always been here. Their little work family was doing great. JJ’s about to hit 30 weeks pregnant, she’s in the home stretch and they’ve picked a name. Michael. The whole office has bets on the day he’ll arrive and how big he’ll be. And Derek's moving into a house with his girlfriend… everyone is so happy, it’s nice to see. 

The team’s away in Idaho, wrapping up paperwork and interviewing the latest unsub before they catch a flight back home. It wasn’t a hard case, nothing they haven’t seen a million times before. 

She’s sitting at her desk on her computer, searching through Pinterest for nursery ideas. She’s absolutely transfixed on this wallpaper of watercolour flowers, she wants the room to be light and pretty, not too crazy, and something she’ll like as she grows up. She pins a bunch of pictures of different designs, even rooms with painted, wainscotting around the room and the wallpaper just on the top 3rd. She loves how it looks, it’s so cute… and then she sees one of the walls has wooden letters that spell out the name Juliet. Not the same spelling they’re going for, but similar. She’s completely sold now. 

She adds it to her board “Juliette Room” and starts to scroll through it, not realizing Penelope is coming up to stand behind her. 

“Oh my goodness, is that the baby room idea?” 

“Oh,” she jumps in her seat a bit, “yeah… yeah, it is. I’m going to start ordering things so we can have it done before she gets here. Granted she’s not going to be sleeping in there for a while, I still want to have it done for when she comes home.” 

She scrolls all the way up to the top to show her everything and that’s when Penelope sees the name. “Juliette,” she swoons, her heart fluttering in her chest. “Oh, that’s perfect!” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so!! It fits so well with Jack and Hotchner too! Oh, I can just imagine how cute she’s going to be.” 

“If you want to put her name on the baby shower invitation you can? We’re fine with people knowing it, just not the full name yet, it’s a surprise.” 

“Can I know?” She begs, leaning in close. “I can keep a secret, I promise?” 

She smiles, knowing that even if it got out to the team it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Her middle name was picked by Jack… he asked if it could be Hale. For his mom.” 

Penelope’s hand jumps up to cover her mouth so she won’t cry, “oh my gosh?” 

“I know, he asked me that in a McDonalds and I had to do everything I could to not sob, but then we found out Hale also means Hero so… it really fits her,” Y/N explains. “She’s our little hero, Juliette.” 

“Do you think I could do the baby shower with the same theme? Baby in bloom?” She asks, gears already turning in her mind. 

“That would be nice,” she agrees with a big smile. “You don’t have to go too crazy with it, you know? I’m okay with it just being here with you guys.” 

“Mm-mm, can’t do that,” Penelope teases. “I’ve already gotten Aaron to pass me all the addresses of your family and Dave has agreed to let us use his backyard and I’ve rented tables and chairs, I just couldn’t decide on a theme but now that I have I can start decorating.” 

“Pen—

“You’ve waited almost a decade for this, I’m going all out,” she puts her foot down. “You deserve a big party because you’re going to be the most amazing mom in the world. That should be celebrated.” 

She could cry, “Thank you, Penny.” 

—

Derek and Luke come over on the day she hits 30 weeks exactly. Everything she ordered for the baby room had arrived  and there was no way on earth she was going to be able to help Aaron put it all together or hang the wallpaper. So her strong, manly co-workers offered to come over and help. Both their girlfriends came too. 

Savannah and Lisa both brought some food, making sure the boys were fed and Y/N had something nice to eat as well. From the moment Lisa walked in with a tinfoil-covered dish, she made the house smell so delicious, Y/N couldn’t wait to dig in. Evan Jack, the ever-picky eater, wants to try it. 

The guys upstairs end up getting the wallpaper on the walls before they come down for some food as well. Y/N takes it as her chance to go upstairs and look at the work they did. When she enters the room she’s amazed. It’s going to be exactly what she imagined. Derek is going to come back tomorrow and put the wainscotting on the lower half of the walls and then she can paint them. She’s going for muted tones, water-colour flowers on top and a light sage on the wainscotting. The crib is golden, so is the Juliette sign that she’s going to hang over it. Her dresser is white and pink with golden nobs, and instead of the green rocking chair she picked out at Ikea, she got a floral upholstered chair for middle-of-the-night feedings.  

Her favourite feature, however, is the framed saying she found. “Even after the hardest storm, the flowers still find a way to bloom.” 

It was going to be perfect. 

She stands there, looking around at the boxes, the pile of wood and the few cans of paint, in awe of what was to come. Holding her belly in her hands, she really can’t believe just how fast this has all happened. This was how it was always supposed to be. Part of her wishes she could go back in time and meet Aaron right away… the rest of her knows that wasn’t supposed to work. 

Aaron comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, startling her slightly. He holds his hands over her own, on her belly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Daydreaming?” 

She hums, “Yeah… I’m so happy.” 

He kisses her just below her ear, “I’m happy you’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted.” 

“Knocking me up was the best thing you ever did,” she teases him. 

He nibbles on her ear lightly, “You do look very good carrying my child.” 

“We have guests downstairs,” she reminds him. 

“I know,” he sulks, kissing her neck for a few more moments before they run the risk of getting caught. He sighs, “I love you 10 million times more than I ever thought I could and it’s only getting more intense as the days go on.” 

She turns around to face him, her bump keeping her from getting as close to him as she wants to be, she cups his face in her hands, “I know, believe me, I know. I’ve never felt so loved in my whole entire life. I didn’t think this amount of love was possible… but here I am, in my daughters' room with the love of my life.” 

“And to think you wanted a boy?” He teases. 

“I have one,” she reminds him. “He’s downstairs stuffing his face with his new favourite meal… I’m going to have to get Lisa to leave the recipe for me.” 

Aaron leans in and kisses her. This is all either of them ever wanted. 

—

The baby shower is planned for Sunday, August 13th, a month and 3 before she’s due. Penelope sends out all the invitations in June, including one for Peter's mom with explicit requests that Peter doesn’t know. That’s the only thing she doesn’t want. She never wants to see him again. After nearly 10 months without him, she feels clean, free, and safe again. 

Life is peaceful. Life is good. She’s excited for the future again. 

The baby shower is only a few weeks away, she hasn’t seen anything other than the invitations. Knowing Penelope, it’s going to be insane. She can’t wait to see everything she’s ordered and how she’s going to decorate and even the games she has planned. It’s going to be so nice to see her family again, so far everyone in her immediate family is coming. She hasn’t seen them in a while. 

Her only real job is finding a dress to wear to the party. That’s the hardest part. With her ever-growing stomach and the heat this summer, she has no idea what to get. She knows she wants something floral to match the theme and she wants a sun dress but finding the two together is hard. Maternity shopping also sucks. 

It’s actually Aaron who ends up finding her a dress. 

He comes home from a case with a shopping bag in his hand, he meets her in their bedroom and sets it down in front of her. “We had 2 hours before the plane would be ready so we went to get dinner as a team and the store next to the restaurant had these in the window.” 

They were in LA for the most recent case. Of course, he found something there. 

She carefully takes it out of the bag, peels the tissue paper off it and gasps, “Aaron?” 

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” 

She holds it up to her body, it’s the perfect size, it’s the right colour and the flowers match almost exactly to the wallpaper and the chair in Juliette's room. She can’t believe it. It’s exactly what she wanted. 

“How much was it?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he pushes the question to the side. “It’s part 1 of your push present.” 

“You know about push presents?” She can’t believe it. 

He nods, “Penelope has given me a run down…” 

“You really don’t have to get me anything, having your baby is gift enough for me,” she explains. “I mean it. All I wanted was a baby, you gave me that and more… I mean, now I have a stepson and a house and you. I’m good.” 

“Yes, well, I’m going to spoil you regardless.” 

“Aaron,” she stares him down. “I don’t want you to go too crazy, okay?” 

“No promises,” he teases. “Do you want to try on the dress?” 

“You just want to see me naked,” she knows him too well. But she starts to stand regardless. 30 weeks pregnant now, it’s hard to do most things on her own. “A little help?” 

He helps her take her shirt off, then her pants. He gets them down to her ankles, kneeling there in front of her, he kisses her stomach gently. He feels up her legs, unshaven as it’s hard to do everything with a belly this big. But Aaron loves it. He loves everything about her. 

Back on his feet, he helps her put her dress on and moves her towards the mirror, “Look at you… this dress was made for you.” 

“Was it?” She asks, teasing him. “Are you sure you just found it? You didn’t have someone make it for me?” 

“I would have, but no, I actually found it. You can look up the store, it’s Daisy Maternity in LA,” he explains. 

“I believe you,” she smiles at him through the mirror. “No can you you help me out of this? I don't want to ruin this before the party next month.” 

“Arms up,” he instructs, helping her lift the dress up and off her, he rests it on their bed gently and then returns to her. He runs his hand down her arms, he cups her belly and pulls her in closer. His chest is flush against her back, and he smirks at her through the mirror. “isn’t Jack at a friend's house?” 

“He is…” 

Aaron unclips her bra with one hand and pushes the straps off her shoulders, kissing her there instead. “you’re so pretty.” 

“If you say—

He grips her jaw and stares at her through the mirror, making her look at herself too, “you are beautiful.” 

“You’ve gotta move my dress off the bed before you fuck me,” she teases.

He back away, picks up the dress and takes it into their closet where he slips it onto a hanger and places it on the rack with the rest of her dresses. When he gets back, she’s put her shirt back on and she’s sitting in bed with her maternity book. “Really?” 

“what my feet hurt?” She complains. “Believe me, I would love for you to ravish me right now but I don’t have hardly enough energy.” 

“So let me do all the work?” He suggests, climbing onto the bed and laying down between her legs. She can barely see him with her belly in the way. 

She just laughs at him, she lets him push his legs further apart and then lifts her hips so that he can take her underwear off. 

This was going to be a long night.

—

On the day of her baby shower, she gets all dolled up and by the time her dress is on, she’s exhausted. Aaron helps her down the stairs, they get her loaded up in the passenger seat of the SUV with Jack in the backseat and they don’t move. “What are—” 

“I have a present for you,” he explains, turning to her with a smile. “Jack helped me pick it out. “

“I did,” he pipes up, standing between their seats, leaning over to see his dad pull something out of his pocket. 

It’s a tiny little box. One that a ring would come in. “Aaron?” 

“I know we’ve never really talked about it… getting married again after everything we’ve gone through would be hard, but I still want you to wear my ring,” he explains, opening the box. 

The ring is beautiful. A gold band with a heart-shaped ruby in the middle surrounded by little diamonds. 

She laughs through the tears that drop down her cheeks. “Will it fit on my swollen fingers?” 

He laughs too, “I’m not sure… there’s only one way to find out.” He takes the ring out of the box and she extends her left hand to him, letting him put it on her ring finger as far as it will go. 

It makes it to her second knuckle and not much further. “Well… I guess we’ll have to wait till after the baby—

“Here,” she takes it and slides it onto her pinkie. It fits perfectly. “I’ll just move it over when my hands go back to normal.” 

Aaron takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing her gently. “You’re mine forever and now everyone will know it long after the bump is gone.” 

She stares at him, he can’t even joke about that with Jack standing behind them. “Aaron…” 

He simply leans over and kisses her for real, Jack claps behind them, overly excited for this to be real. “Are you going to have a wedding?” 

They pull back with smiles, at the same time saying “no.” they don’t need a wedding to make this real. The love they have for each other is real enough. 

“But if we go to the courthouse one day, you and your sister can be our witnesses, okay?” She promises. 

“You’ll be my best man,” Aaron assures him. “we’ll do it next year.” 

“This day exactly,” she agrees. “An August anniversary will be nice.” 

“And Jules will be old enough to sit through it… we might need to bring her godmother to hold her though,” Aaron teases. That’s another thing they have to announce today. 

“Who’s her godmother?” Jack asks. 

“Penelope and maybe one day Savannah,” she explains. “Cause Derek is her godfather, whoever he marries one day will be her other godmother.” 

“Dereks also my godfather,” Jack cheers, loving that he shares another thing with his sister. 

“So if anything ever happens to me and your dad one day, they’ll take care of you guys for us,” she makes sure he understands what that means. 

“Nothing will happen,” Aaron assures him. “But every couple needs a backup plan.” 

“Dad won’t let anything bad happen to us ever again,” Jack is confident. 

“Me either,” she agrees. “Now get your seatbelt on, we can’t be late to our own party!” 

He hurries to his seat and does up his buckle, Aaron waits until they’re all completely secure and then he backs out of their driveway. The drive to Dave's house isn’t long, it’s almost the same as their drive to work, seeing as Rossi and Gideon both bought houses close to Quantico at the height of their careers and Dave never left. He has a mansion on the water, it’s a perfect spot for all their parties and as they pull up… it’s the most beautiful spot for a baby shower, too. 

There’s a big flower arch over the garden gate that they have to go through to get to the party. The entryway has a guest book with a Polaroid camera so each guest can take a selfie and stick it in the book. She takes a moment to flip through all the familiar faces she knows and loves, noticing they’ve all written something sweet to Juliette for her to read when she’s older. Maybe at her own baby shower one day. 

When she walks in all eyes are on her. She’s hugged by her immediate family who she hasn’t seen in ages, they each touch her belly and can’t believe how far along she is. 34 weeks and a few days… she’s so close to the finish line. 

Her family is ecstatic to meet Aaron, they huddle around him and ask him so many questions, giving Y/N the chance to look around at everything Penelope set up. 

The food table is immaculate, and the cake she got has fake flowers on it and everything. Every little table for her guests has the most beautiful floral centrepieces and everyone has cute little drinks too. That’s when she notices there’s a bar and waiters and the whole thing has been catered. “Penelope?” She calls over to her. “I thought I said not to go crazy?” 

“And I said this baby is going to have the best party ever,” Penelope reminds her. “Come sit.” She rushes over to her side and drags her over to her main table, “do you want a drink?” 

“What do you have?” 

“We have mom-osa’s… non-alcoholic fruity drinks named after you and the little one. Would you like the Y/N which is Sprite, raspberry lemonade and muddled raspberries or the Juliette which is a sparkling cider, ginger ale and pineapple juice?” 

“Oh the Juliette sounds delicious, I think she’d like that one too,” she teases, holding her belly. 

“One Juliette coming right up!” 

Oh, how she can’t wait until Juliette is really here. She can’t wait to hold her and see her face and get to know her. Her personality, her quirks, her likes and dislikes… she wants to know if she’ll have Aaron's scowl or maybe she’ll share his and Jack's brown eyes? Is she going to be tall? Is she going to sleep well or stay up all night like her mom used to? There are so many possibilities and she can’t wait to learn each and every one about little Miss Juliette. 

—

The party goes smoothly. They have food, they play games, and everyone places guesses on when her baby will be born and how big she’ll be. They have a race to see who can change a diaper the fastest, they give speeches and there’s even a little slide show of baby pictures that Penelope was able to get from Y/N’s parents and Sean, who makes an appearance as well. 

It’s a wonderful reunion for so many of them. More fun than a wedding would’ve been, but it brought out the same crowd. The best part, Jess’s girlfriend is there to take pictures of everything. She gets group shots, solos, action shots, candid, you name it. It’s all going to be remembered for years to come. 

Peter's mom is there. It’s not weird, either. She talks to Y/N’s family, shakes hands with Aaron’s side and she brought the most beautiful present. For years, she was making a blanket for what would’ve been her baby with Peter… its sat in a box for too long. It’s a beautiful gift. The first of many gifts she has to open. 

The presents portion of the party is the best part. She unwraps all sorts of things from cute outfits to baby toys to a brand new stroller and even a playpen. She held off on getting a lot of things knowing that this was happening, and it’s a good thing because she’s not going to need to get much else. Her family covered it all for her. 

She’s handed another present when she looks at the garden gate and sees an all too familiar face. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, standing up with her jaw dropped. Aaron is quick to his feet, standing in front of her like a shield. 

Peter is standing at the gate, entering the party he wasn’t invited to with a smirk. He’s holding a gift in his hand. 

“What is he doing here, Jane?” She asks Peters mom instead. 

“I didn’t tell him, I promise!” 

“she posted it on Facebook,” he announces as he gets closer. “She said she was going to her daughter in laws baby shower. I’m not stupid, I knew that meant you.” 

“So you tracked down the address and showed up?” Aaron asks, heated already. 

Derek is up and walking toward Peter, about to put his hand on his shoulder when Peter brushes him off. “Hey man, I’m just bringing her a present, who knows, it could be mine.” 

“It’s not.” Aaron stands his ground. “Get out. Now.” 

“Peter, leave, please,” Jane begs him, feeling awfully embarrassed. 

“Here,” he passes the present to Derek, who takes it carefully. “I just wanted her to have something—

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she cries, she pushes Aaron out of the way and stares him down. “You could’ve given me a baby, you could’ve told me the truth but instead you lied to me for 10 fucking years! You made me think I was broken and not worthy of being a mom or being loved. But you’re the broken one! Something sick and twisted exists in your brain and you’re never, NEVER going to be as loved as I am now. You lost. You’re always going to lose. You’re a fucking loser.” 

He just nods, taking it all, “wow,” he laughs. “Thanks for showing everyone what I put up with for 10 years.” 

“GET OUT!” She screams, “I swear to god if I see you near me or my family again I will kill you. I’m not fucking kidding. Leave.” 

Out of nowhere, Jack is standing in front of Peter, he kicks him in the balls and Peter falls to the floor. Jack kicks him a second time, in the face... “That’s for hurting my mom.” 

“Jack,” Aaron runs over and swoops him up and moves him away from Peter. 

She rushes over to them, brings Jack in for a hug and holds him there, “Thank you, baby, but you can’t go around kicking people.” 

“He deserved it. He hit you,” Jack remembers from the few conversations they’ve had about her evil ex-husband. 

Peter's nose is bleeding, he’s able to get back up to his feet and he laughs, “I’m going, I’m going… just, have a good life… that’s all I wanted to say. I didn’t come here to start shit, it’s just easy for me to turn mean, you know that.” 

“I don’t care, just get out,” she begs this time. “Don’t make them drag you out. They will.” 

Just like that, Luke and Spencer are standing with Derek and Aaron, all ready to get him out if they have to. Peter leaves without another word, heading out past the gate, Luke follows him, making sure he gets in his car and drives away. 

She sighs, turning back to the crowd. “I’m so sorry about all that… um, we’re just going to go inside, you guys can start eating cake?” 

“on it,” Penelope rushes over to the food table. “Who wants the first slice?” 

Y/N rushes inside with Aaron and Jack, “I can’t believe that just happened.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jack apologizes. 

“No, buddy, don’t apologize… if you ever see him again, at your school or driving past the house, you come to get us or you call 911, okay? You can’t hit him again, but he’s not a safe man to be around,” she explains to him. “I may call you my little hero, but you can’t put yourself in harm's way for us.” 

“She’s right but,” Aaron puts his hand out and high-fives Jack, smiling proudly. “You’re going to be a great big brother.” 

“I just,” Jack starts talking then stops himself. Furrowing his brow in a way that makes him look exactly like his father. “I hate him. I had to.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” she assures him. “I love you very much, thank you.”

He hugs her tight, sharing all his love with her. “Come on, let’s go back out there.” 

Once they return, every eye is on them again. She gives them a pressed-lipped smile, “Sorry about that…” 

“I’m sorry,” Jane apologizes, “I didn’t think he’d track me down and come here. I honestly don’t know him anymore. He’s not the boy I raised. He’s changed.” 

“It’s okay,” she assures Jane. “Um… where’s the present he brought?” 

Derek has it still, “I opened it already, just to make sure it was safe.” 

“You can take the man out of the bomb squad,” Aaron teases, “thank you for that.” 

“Anything for you guys,” he gives them a smile. 

She takes the present from him and opens it, finding a couple outfits she bought when they started trying, thinking it would be good luck. She left them behind for a reason. Both because she didn’t want them and to make him deal with what he did to her. But now they’re back. 

She holds them up for everyone to see, faking a smile, “It’s cute…” 

She puts it back in the box and hands it to Penelope, leaning in close to her ear, “Can you make sure these go to goodwill or something?” 

She nods, “of course.” 

“While I have everyone's attention,” she starts to speak as she walks back over to her table, she raises her glass and looks out at everyone. “I wanted to thank a few of you… Jennifer, thank you for being pregnant at the same time as me. I don’t know how I would’ve done this alone, being able to complain and compare with you has been so nice.”

“It’s my pleasure,” JJ assures her, raising her glass to her as well. 

“And Penelope, you’ve done such an amazing job with this party and taking care of me while everyone’s been away on cases. I love how you added all our pregnancy cravings to the office kitchen and you got me a comfy chair for your office, you’ve been my best friend these last few months that i’ve been stuck on office duty… there’s no one else I’d rather have watch my daughter if something ever happened to me. So, will you be her god-mother?” 

“YES!” She squeals. “Oh my god, I love being a godmother, please? Oh, I can’t wait I’m going to spoil her every day of her life.” She wraps her arms around Y/N and holds her there for a moment. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she holds her back for a moment. When she pulls away, she turns to Derek. “But every kid gets two godparents, so Derek, would you like to be her other one?” 

“Add that to the endless list of things I’d do for your family,” he smiles. “Of course.” 

“Thank you for taking on the extra workload for me and Aaron, he’ll be back to work before you know it,” she teases. 

Aaron nods with a smug smile on his face. “I’m going to love being home for 6 months, but I’ll be back. Maybe we can trade-off?” 

Savannah laughs, “Maybe.” 

“And I also want to thank Tara and Luke, you guys are the best replacements I could’ve hired,” she teases. “Seriously, ever since you’ve joined the team it’s been so much easier to catch bad guys, you’re making the world a better place for us to bring Juliette into.” 

Everyone claps for the team then, all in agreement that what the BAU does is magic. 

She holds her drink up one last time, “And to Dave, thank you for letting us use your house for this party. At least he doesn’t know where I live now.” 

That gets a giggle out of the crowd, but they all take a drink after. 

Jack stands on his chair, tapping a spoon off his glass like he’s seen in all the movies. “Can I say something?” 

“Yeah, buddy, go for it,” Aaron supports him, keeping a hand behind his back so he doesn’t fall backwards. 

“I just want to tell Y/N, my mom, that I love her,” he says with a smile. “And I love my sister and I’m so happy with my new family.” 

“Oh Jack,” she swoons again. Reaching over for his hand. “You’re the sweetest boy in the world, I love how much you love me and your sister. You’re going to be the best big brother, I just know you’ll keep her safe.” 

“We all saw just how far he’s willing to go,” Aaron teases, making everyone laugh again. “And we wanted to thank everyone who was invited for coming, thank you for making time to celebrate Y/N and her first baby. Thank you for making this special for them.” 

—

JJ goes into labour at 37 weeks, just like everyone expected her to. She calls Y/N and Aaron to the hospital after her little guy is born, wanting them to meet him first and she knew what that also meant. 

When they arrive, Spencer is already there with Henry, holding the tiny baby while JJ and Will watch on with awe. 

“Hey,” she makes their presence known. 

“Y/N, hi,” JJ welcomes her in, “sorry for calling so late.” 

“It’s okay,” she really doesn’t mind. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay… it was a lot quicker than Henry’s birth so I wasn’t expecting that, they didn’t even have the opportunity to give me an epidural.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she reaches out to touch her arm. “Did it hurt?” 

She laughs, “Yeah… oh yeah it sucked.” 

Y/N’s slightly scared. She’s always wanted a baby but she’s never been good with pain. She’s not ready but at the same time, she wants her baby as soon as possible. Being only 2 weeks behind JJ, she doesn’t have much time left, this baby is coming out one way or another and she just has to deal with it. 

“Here, Spence, can you pass him to Y/N,” JJ asks. “Hold him, experience the joy and you’ll understand what women mean when they say the pain isn’t as noticeable once they have a baby in their arms.” 

She carefully takes Michael in her arms, he’s so tiny. “Oh my god, he’s so cute?” 

“She makes cute babies,” Will teases. “My sister's kids came out all purple and swollen, these guys, they’re perfect.” 

“I’m sure Juliette will come out cute too,” JJ assures her. “I mean, Jack was too cute when he was born.” 

“Where is Jack?” Henry asks. 

“He’s with his aunt,” Aaron explains, quietly standing over Y/N’s shoulder, looking down at Michael, he reaches over and lets him hold his finger, the two of them are just in awe.

“When we had Henry, we gave him a godparent from Will's side and my side,” JJ explains. “Spencer has been the best support, it’s hard to get Will's sister out here often to help, so we thought why not give Michael two god-parents that are always around…”

“We’d love to be his god-parents,” Aaron accepts it right away. 

“I’m going to be home for a year so if you need anything, you know where to bring him,” Y/N reminds them. “Heck, I might even just stay home permanently and babysit all the FBI babies.” 

“I’ll be taking a decent paternity leave,” Will announces. “I loved staying home with Henry for the first year. We could have playdates, though?” 

“I would love that,” Y/N smiles over at will. “Our kids are going to be best friends yet again.” 

@mrs-ssa-hotch @14buddy22 @spottedzebrasinpartyhats  @mimischaos @rousethemouse

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

[ultimateyapper]

anyway, here's wonderwall. | chapter two

[ chapter 1 ]

why is frostheim so cold, and why is jin's room somehow worse? even just standing outside his room, you can feel the cold seeping through the cracks. like a freezer, a blast of icy air swings out each time it opens. everything about jin was cold, from his unyielding gaze to the feel of his hands. when he uses his stigma, chills run down your spine as his cold hands meet yours. it's like the dorm was made to fit him, a king with a kingdom to match.

jin could definitely be cold but he wasn't entirely made of ice. you could see the way your friends had managed to get under his skin, even if he still called them brats. had you managed to do the same? with all the back and forth you do for him you sure hope—

"what do you want."

ah, speak of the devil. the door opens with a gust of wind that makes you involuntarily shiver. standing there, looking mildly annoyed, was his majesty himself. his hair is tossed in a way that screams he'd just woken up. you're a little jealous of how flawless he looked, even with his eyebrows cast downward. you also wonder how he'd react if you told him that, but he's probably not in the mood for small talk. he never is, but still, it might be better to make this quick.

"good morning to you too. i got the documents tohma reprinted from your last mission but they need to be resigned. do you have a minute?"

his frown deepens at that. "for tohma? no."

"oh. well... do you have a minute for me?"

he continues glaring but sighs and halfheartedly opens the door. as he dips back inside the white-ish fluff on his head lightly swishes with the movement. "are you coming in or what? i don't have all day."

"...for tohma or for me?"

"for either of you now hurry up."

when you step in jins room it looks the same as always. not much changes and you wonder what he even occupies himself with in here. the plain and bare interior is way different than the other ghouls. ren has movie posters plastered across every wall of his room, a collection that he'd been building since he was a kid.

looking in his room would give you a glimpse of his personality even if you didn't know him. jin on the other hand didn't have anything like that. he walks over to the stupidly large couch in the back to recline as usual. "grab a pen and get over here."

demanding as ever...

over on a desk you find a cup with a few different writing utensils. funnily enough, despite the set up you've never actually seen jin sitting at this desk and you almost laugh. you'd only seen it occupied once by tohma, signing a contract he said you'd have to die to know about. with how darkwick can be you don't think he was joking. you return to his side with a black pen and present the papers.

"tch. i told that three eyes to handle this shit. i swear when i catch him." tohma definitely gets a kick out of getting on his nerves. it seems to be working well, too.

you start to feel awkward watching him lazily flip through the pages. you'd be constantly on your feet once you got to jabberwock, so maybe you should rest while you can. jin doesn't look willingly to budge anytime soon. his bed could be an option but you don't know if he'd consider that rude or not. it wouldn't hurt to ask. "uhm, jin can i sit with you?" you force yourself not to take it back when he raises and eyebrow.

"you expecting me to move for you?" why does he make it sound so absurd? you feel your face heat up at his inquiry but no way are you backing down. "well i didn't want to sit on your bed..." you trail off. his eyes follow yours before focusing back on you. "i just figured it's more comfortable than standing."

"comfortable? you think i care about making you comfortable?," he scoffs. is it a crime to rest your legs? your unamusement doesn't seem to affect him. a slight smirk starts pulling on his lips. "you realize servants aren't the ones who should be giving orders don't you?"

you want to roll your eyes but part you also doesn't want to test him. his status as the presidents son is a little intimidating. maybe if you don't break eye contact he won't be able to tell you're nervous. can ghouls smell fear?

"yeah but i saved you the trip by coming up here, the least you can do is allow me to sit with you. unless... you wanted me to send tohma instead?"

his smirk falls and he takes a moment to squint at your response. you doubt jin wanted to deal with tohma's pestering right now. the fact that he wasn't up before you got here was a clear sign tohma hadn't already swung by to interrupt his lazing about. after an exasperated sigh he surprisingly lets up.

"whatever, but don't get too comfortable. you're running more errands for getting snarky with me." you're too busy with the other dorms for that but decide not to mention it. you take your victory on the couch while he continues like you're not even there. "don’t make a habit of this," he mutters, almost as an afterthought.

"yes sir," you say without thinking. that's not a weird thing to say is it? it must be all the servant and master stuff he keeps mentioning. you look away so he doesn't see you get flushed again, and relievingly he doesn't say anything further. it's a little weird for him to be this nice but maybe he's just tired. an oddly comfortable silence envelops the room as you lean back and relax.

—

the sun greets you like a warm hug when you exit the building. it's comforting after being stuck inside a cold space for so long. automatically you stretch up toward the sky until your back satisfyingly pops.

"there you are! did you finish up with everything?," a voice says over to your side. when you open your eyes, luca's heading over with a certain blondie in tow. kaito perks up upon seeing you and meets halfway with a high five.

"just to be clear, i'm not indebting myself with this volunteer thing right? i really don't need another sinostra situation," he jokes. haru indebting people to him? he can barely get ren and towa to actually help around the dorm. even peekaboo doesn't listen to him sometimes. jabberwock is run like a kindergarten compared to sinostra's pseudo mafia.

"i doubt you'll have to worry about that... you'll see when we get there. luckily i got out of there before jin started ordering me around." any longer and you would've been doing his laundry again. thankfully the king of frostheim was still tired. luca frowns at this revelation so you nudge his elbow reassuringly. "i'm just joking, honestly it was no trouble at all."

you'd perfer luca not to make a big deal out of it. he almost confronted jin on his own accord once but was stopped by that vagastorm situation. you're glad it happened, even if he got in trouble for the fight that came afterwards...

truthfully, you didn't mind doing stuff for the dorms. it was only the ghouls that treated you like dirt in exchange that irritated you. it's not like you were trying to bother anybody. your honor student title basically just made you a glorified helper for them anyway. why do the ghouls have to treat you like a burden? you didn't ask to be here anymore than they did. if only you could find the cure to this stupid curse...

alas, there's no use spiraling, you can't do anything about it yet. eventually, it'll work itself out. the puzzled gaze of your friends grounds you back into reality. you give them a smile and head down the concrete path. at least, for now, you have something to focus on.

"let's get going, haru's offering of 50% off tickets expires at noon." a few steps in, kaito fully registers your words. "wait we have to pay!!?!!?"

ah. right. forgot to mention that.

[orestesimp]

I’m slowly going through Oscar’s movies without any hurry, consuming his characters as sweet delicacies… hmm anyway. Speaking of underrated characters. I have an idea that fits for Bud Cooper and for Nick Wasicsko too but I can’t choose one, please help me 🤕 reader is his new secretary, and his favorite way to spend a dinner break is eating reader out at his desk 😎 it would be nice to read something about it ♥️ please skip it if this is not for you! I’ve already over-abused your ask lmao. Love you

Friday Afternoon

Nick Wasicsko x f!Reader

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, + spelling? 18+

around 2.4k words

i’m so sorry, this is literally five months later but i hope you’re still around and enjoy this. also i forgot this was supposed to be a dinner break so instead it’s an afternoon snack

Nick exhales a slow breath as he looks around his office to check on things. It’s a Friday afternoon and he is bored out of his mind. It turns out that being the mayor of Yonkers is not always exciting. Some days are hectic and stressful, others are slow and monotonous.

Friday afternoons are particularly tedious.

Through the glass partition he can see you hunched over your desk doing paperwork. You straighten up a little, roll your neck in an attempt to work out the kinks, then return to your paperwork. Nick reclines in his leather chair, feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the desk.

Now he remembers why he actually likes Friday afternoons; he gets to watch you work.

If the constituents knew that their mayor spends most of his Fridays sitting at his desk staring at his girlfriend, they would be picketing in front of the building with signs. But then he’s done worse things during working hours.

The clacking of the typewriter keys fills the otherwise silent office. You are not paying attention to Nick but he still hides his smile behind his hand when you discreetly stare daggers to your left at the other secretary. In your defense, Nick thinks, the sound is extremely irritating.

It sounds like a machine gun, constantly firing. You press your lips into a thin line and look away, fighting the urge to bash your own head against the desk. Your anger seems so disproportionate, so unreasonable, that a laugh bubbles up in Nick’s throat.

He observes you a little longer, an amused smile on his lips. He isn’t proud of it but he loves riling you up, annoying you until he has to apologize with his mouth in more ways than one.

*

You are on the phone with councilman Longo’s secretary when Nick enters your side of the office. He looks bored, aimless. You envy him. You have been swamped with work all week, you’re exhausted and everything seems to set you off.

The phone keeps ringing, Cheryl is literally punching the keys of the typewriter with her fingers, and Nick is… well he’s definitely looking for trouble. Despite being an ex-police officer, he’s not very subtle. He paces in front of you, hands in his pockets. It tightens the fabric around his backside and it is usually a very welcoming distraction, but not today.

Today you are just too worked up to take the bait.

Nick looks over his shoulder at you, sees that you are not paying attention to him, and gives a little nod to himself. He tries one more time because Nick Wasicsko is nothing if not persistent.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him walk over to your co-worker. He perches his butt on the corner of her desk and she smiles up at him, her fingers still moving furiously over the keys. He makes pleasant conversation with her while you try to block out their voices.

You are surprised that she is still at her desk, Cheryl isn’t known for her professionalism. She’s always ambling in the hallways or gossiping by the copy machine. The only reason you are working for Nick right now is because she is behind in her work. You could be on your porch repotting your azaleas right now.

You reach up to rub your temples in soothing circles. You’re not sure it’s working but it feels kind of nice.

And then, silence.

You open your eyes and look around the room to find Cheryl putting on her coat. Confused, you glance at the clock. You still have over an hour of work until you can clock out. She thanks him, powerwalking to the door before he can change his mind.

Once the door closes behind her, Nick turns to you with a satisfied grin. He opens his arms and gives a little bow, “et voilà.”

“You let her leave early?”

“I’m letting all of us leave early,” he counters, still perched on her desk.

You appreciate the gesture but you have too much work to do. You need to make sure everything is ready for the event next week, you have to update the calendar, and there’s a pile of unopened mail on your desk from three weeks ago.

Your lack of enthusiasm makes Nick frown. He stands behind you, hands on your shoulders.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” he says, massaging your shoulders.

You can’t see him but you’re almost certain that he is pouting. He is going to overthink this. You’re just tired and grumpy, but he’s going to dissect this until he comes to the conclusion that you don’t love him anymore.

And that’s the last thing you want. You take one of his hands and bring it to your lips. “I am,” you reassure him, kissing away his doubt. “Let’s just finish this and then we can go home.”

He makes a sound, half whimper, half whine. “Can’t it wait until Monday?” He digs his fingertips into your arms and tries to pull you closer. “C’mon,” he coos, “please.”

“Okay, okay. Just do this one thing for me.” You straighten up in your chair. “Sign these documents so I can send them before the end of the day.”

He makes a face at the thought of having to work, even if it’s just to write his name on a few sheets of paper. Once Nick has made his mind up about something, no one can stop him.

“It’s past four, these won’t be send until Monday anyway.”

“Nick, please.”

He picks up the handset and leaves it on your desk, the high-pitched buzzing of the dial tone humming faintly from the receiver. You bat his hand away and press the button that will automatically transfer callers to voicemail.

“All right,” he relents, walking into his office. “Come here.”

You gather your papers into a neat stack and bring it into Nick’s office. He looks like a petulant child behind his desk and you can’t help but smile as you set the pile of documents down in front of him.

He looks up at you with his big, brown eyes. I want to go home. You cup the side of his face and stroke his cheekbone with your thumb. It won’t be long, promise.

Nick quickly skims through the stack of legal documents, scribbling his signature at the bottom of each page. You stand next to him, watching silently. After a moment, you stop paying attention and let your eyes travel around the office.

A startled gasp slips past your lips when you feel a pair of hands settle at your hips. Nick whirls you about, a shit eating grin on his face. You stumble over your own feet but steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders.

Once the room stops spinning, you see that Nick is still sitting in his desk chair but you are now trapped between him and the desk. He looks up at you with a satisfied grin, almost predatory, and you find yourself clenching your thighs together. His hands are still on your hips, and his quiet groan tells you that he definitely felt that.

The skirt you are wearing today is long, it reaches almost to your ankles, but it doesn’t deter Nick whose hands are slowly travelling down your legs. He gathers two handfuls of your skirt and slowly exposes your underwear.

“W-What are you doing,” you ask with a breathless laugh.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies, feigning exasperation. “I’m working.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your navel.

You stop him.

“Nick, the door.”

“What about it?”

“It’s unlocked.”

He has to strain his neck to look at the door. It’s on the other side of the room, behind his own door and your desk. He purses his lips into a mock thinking pout before he turns to you. “I don’t care.”

You consider it too. God, you don’t want him to move but what if someone walks into the room and finds the mayor with his face buried between his secretary’s legs. Now come to think of it, that’s an exciting thought.

“Yeah,” you agree.

You don’t have to tell him twice. He’s all smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and your body begins to relax. When he yanks your underwear down your legs, you yelp in surprise and start chuckling. Nick shushes you, trying to contain his own laughter.

You lean back and support your weight on your forearms, trying to make yourself comfortable on the hard surface of the desk.

A beam of sunlight shines through the window onto Nick’s face, his lovely dark eyes light up, revealing flecks of amber and gold. The dial of his watch catches the sunlight, momentarily blinding you, though the movement makes you realize that he is rolling up his sleeves.

You are giddy with excitement, nudging him with the toe of your shoe. He slides off his chair to kneel in front of you and spreads your legs wide. He looks up at you, adoration shining in his eyes though there is something in his smile that makes a chill run up your spine.

You decide to focus on the sight of him on his knees. It always makes you feel so powerful to have the Mayor of Yonkers on his knees ready to please you with his talented mouth. And like the good politician he is, he’s always eager to please.

Putting all your weight on your forearm, you reach out to touch his face. He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder, his lips slowly tracing a path from your knee to your thigh, his teeth lightly playing with the sensitive skin of your thigh.

He does his best to keep your skirt above his head so he can look at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, biting your bottom lip in anticipation as he inches closer to your pussy. Your lips are parted, little whimpers and moans echoing around you.

His thumb drags through the folds of your pussy, wet with desire and ready to suck him in. Your fingers tighten in his silky hair, urging him closer. You can feel his smile against your skin, the hair above his lip so familiar.

Your moans are high-pitched little sighs, breathless and needy, as he finally lowers his mouth to your folds. He licks from your entrance to your clit, his free hand holding you firmly against him.

You are disoriented, your moans get louder and louder and you simply don’t give a flying fuck. He pushes your skirt up, freeing his hand so he can spread your thighs wider. You are slouched on the desk, gasping and panting, one hand half-heartedly holding your skirt above Nick’s head, the other still in his hair.

He presses his tongue flat against your pussy, moaning into you, his half-lidded gaze meeting yours. You are completely shattered, crying out his name, rocking against him, pulling his hair. He can feel the way your pussy clenches, desperately needing something to grip onto but achingly empty.

He slides two thick fingers inside your slick hole and starts sucking your clit. Your climax soars through you, fists clenched, body convulsing, back arching off the desk. He helps you ride out your orgasm, filthy words of encouragement whispered against your skin.

Your soul is slowly returning to your body and you are keenly aware that his tongue is still lapping gently at your centre, gathering the evidence of your orgasm on his tongue.

You hum tiredly, running your fingers through his hair, when you feel the tip of his tongue trace a pattern; a line slanted downward, another upward. He repeats the motion again. It feels good, unusual but good.

Then you feel it again; a line slanted upward, a line slanted downward, and one across. Behind your closed eyes, you frown. The pattern is too complex, it has to be deliberate. You trace it in your mind.

“What are you-” the end of your sentence is cut off with a moan as his tongue traces a ‘S’ shape from your clit to your hole. And despite the post-orgasm fog, it hits you. He’s been writing letters, a ‘W’, an ‘A’, and an ‘S’. He is writing his fucking name. “You have got to be joki- oh, Jesus Christ!”

He ends his ‘I’ by sucking on your clit and you’re a moaning mess again. It takes you another second to remember what you were about to say. The ‘C’ makes you buck against his mouth and by the time he hits you with the ‘S’ you are completely ruined.

You try to sit up, marvelling at the look on his face. He looks so proud of himself. This idiot. Your idiot. He finishes with a ‘K’ and a ‘O’, and that’s pretty much how you feel.

“You’re impossible, Wasicsko.”

“Hey, you’re the one who kept bugging me for my signature.”

“I wanted you to sign paperwork.” You slide limply to your knees, Nick laughing softly as he catches you in his arms. “God, Nick, we have to stop doing this in your office.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Did you like it?”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and try not to scream. Your legs are still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm and he damn well knows that. God, he’s such a sucker for praise. He definitely earned it though.

“Yes, I loved it.”

You kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his lips, swallowing his little gasp. He cups the back of your head and slips his tongue into your mouth. His moustache tickles your upper lip, scratches your skin as he gets lost in the kiss. He squeezes his eyes shut, causing the space between his eyebrows to furrow.

He’s holding on to you for dear life when you both come back for air.

“I love you,” he breathes out, gazing lovingly into your eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I love you, too.”

Nick smiles, relieved, happy. Your heart soars for this man. He helps you to your feet, his erection obvious now that he is standing. “Now, c’mon, you slacker,” he says, taking your hand and dragging you to the large conference table behind his desk. “We haven’t desecrated this part of the office yet.”

[thecameronchronicles]

Impatience

TW: Smut. Degrading Language. Language. Rough Sex. Oral Sex. Spanking.

SUMMARY: Usually the patience girlfriend, you can’t help yourself on this specific day from pushing his limits and he makes you pay for it…

WORD COUNT: 2300

*Requested* 

Impatience

You always loved watching him work no matter the context. The way he could alter so drastically from the compassionate man you’d come to love into characters so dark and sociopathic just proved how talented he had been. But with his talent came the demand for more. More seasons. More photoshoots. And more interviews. Which brought you to today.

It had been days since you were able to spend any form of quality time with him due to his late night shoots and traveling between projects. And usually you could distract or entertain yourself enough to keep your disobedience and impatience at bay. But not today. Not when he’d appeared so devilishly handsome, so sweet in the kiss offered before logging onto his Zoom meeting, and those flirty little glances that held a subtle flicker of just how wicked he could be once pushed…

The pleasantries exchanged between Drew and his current interviewer became moot as you’d focused solely on just how attractive he was. Masculine and manicured to perfection, the perfect pair of large blue eyes traveling to you whenever he’d take a sip of his coffee as he didn’t want to put you on the spot with an introduction. That devilish grin developing once noticing you were always watching him would act as the final push you needed to act. 

You waited until the interview had actually begun, questions of Outer Banks and Hellraiser given vague answers by your boyfriend to keep from spoiling too much, he hadn’t noticed the saunter you’d made to the edge of his desk until you were on your knees. It was one of his favorite sights of your doe eyes looking up at him with a mix of sultry need and desperate submission, something he told you often, and yet he would always react as if it had been the first time. 

Feigning a sip of his coffee that had already been emptied, he’d speak to you beneath his concealed consumption to ‘stop’, while your fingers ignored him and continued their ascent to his boxers, the sight of his arousal rivaling his words of rejection. Pulling apart his thighs to fit your frame between him, he’d adjust in his seat, moving just out of camera. 

“Stop it, baby-You need to behave.” He spoke lowly, but apparently not low enough. 

“What was that, Drew?” The interviewer questioned as he commented how he had a habit of talking to himself, when in truth he’d found his lustful girlfriend to now take his thick cock within her eager grasp. 

“You’re gonna pay for this…” He spoke through clenched teeth as you nodded. 

“I hope so.” You mouthed as he cast his expression away from the camera to allow his eyes to pull into a roll, before reclining back into his seat to provide himself to you. Even if he’d threaten you and made small attempts, in vain, to keep you behaved, he was just as exhilarated as you were at the thought of getting away with this in such a way. 

And yet the true test would come as you’d taken him against your lips, teasing his weeping head against your bottom lip as he fought to focus on the sight. Always so erotic to him behind your angelic features darkened in lust solely for him. It was intoxicating, and in this moment, dangerous, as he’d clear his throat once you’d taken him beyond those dirty little lips harboring a smirk of victory. Immediately, your hair was pulled into a makeshift ponytail to keep it from acting as an obstruction along with a way for him to guide you, as your fingers set over his thighs for stability. 

The usual moans and guttural groans of pleasure you’d cast to vibrate him were absent in fear of embarrassing him on camera, instead, you’d focus on your tongue as you took it in gluttonous strides across his entire shaft and lowering to his balls, sucking and providing kitty licks that forced him to rocket up into unrest. 

“Sorry, I got a chill.” He covered for your actions, drawing his fingers across his polite smile, while cursing at you beneath his breath, ‘fuck you’s’ being uttered within his desperate exhales, before he’d recover once you had returned in taking him to the very back of your throat. 

“Only a few more questions…” The woman spoke on the other side of the screen as you’d quicken your pace in hopes of making him come before the interview would reach its cessation. You’d done this with the hope that he’d be too spent to act on his threat when the final question would be asked, well aware this was unlikely as he was just as much of a giver as he was a receiver. 

“Can you tell us the difference between filming in North Carolina as opposed to Serbia?” He nodded, steadying his breath as you had now taken him in slow strides, those eyes remaining onto him with conviction as he clenched his jaw prior to answering. 

“I feel very lucky to film where I can and they’re both very beautiful places…But with any job, comes the long-hard,” With the second adjective, he’d thrust into your throat, unnoticed by the camera while you had struggled to silence the way he had choked you with such actions as he continued with his impossible professionalism, “hours…”

“And what’s your favorite way to unwind?” The most mischievous of smirks spread across his lips as he’d look down to you, well aware his answer couldn’t be honest and also appropriate. 

“Blowing…off steam…” He spoke carefully as to address the question and your actions, flexing his hips as he organized your hair in folds throughout his fingers, forcing a hindrance in your breathing. 

“Very good. One last question and we’ll let you get back to your day,” He nodded, clenching his jaw at how close he’d been to both the end of his torment and his release, offered by you, his stamina often a cause for your sore thighs and raw throat. 

“Can you tell us what we can expect from Rafe in this coming season? Within reason, of course.”

“Of course…Well…you can expect him to be…” His eyes fell off camera and directly to you, speaking to both answer and threaten while you continued your motions, slowed by his grip to keep from finding his release in your mouth. 

“Rough…Thorough…More raw than usual…” He scoffed to the feeling of you tightening at his base, twisting in perfect pressure and speed to make him unhinged. 

“I think he’s punishing himself for never feeling adequate enough…” His eyes return to the screen for the second part of his answer, lowering to you in the final words. “But he’s a glutton for it, I think…he thrives off of what’s to come-unaware what he’s in for…”

“You definitely have us excited! Well thank you for joining us Drew and best of luck with season three AND Hellraiser, which we can’t wait to see…” He feigned care in their words, hand tightened harsh against your scalp in this cruel grip to keep you from doing anything else but linger in wait with the same torment he was forced to endure. 

“Thank you…Y'all have a good day.” He gave this final smile, not caring to ensure the Zoom room had closed before slamming the screen of his laptop closed, pulling you to your feet. 

“Just couldn’t help yourself could ya? Huh?” He asked, taking his second hand to your jaw, holding the entirety of your face so you couldn’t look away from him, all while he took in the way you had made yourself disheveled all to please him. Tears having ruined the thin line of eyeliner beneath your wide eyes hooded with lust, jaw glossed in the excess of drool forced form taking him as deeply as you had, and your hair now unruly from its recent natural presence directed earlier in the morning by a brush. It all added to this erotic aesthetic along with the huff of your chest recovering from your lack of breath. 

“You know how I love taking care of you, right sweetheart? Taking me time with you? Curving my fingers inside of you until you clench around me? Getting you off on my tongue as you ride into me?” Your fingers gripped sharply at his wrists at the thought as you nodded. 

“Well because you couldn’t wait…You don’t get any of that-'' You were suddenly turned against the desk, shorts forced from your hips along with your panties. 

“Drew…” You groaned before feeling his fingers around your neck pulling you against his chest, the curve of your neck resting at his shoulder. 

“If your moans weren’t so fucking sexy, I wouldn’t let you come at all, as punishment for acting like a little whore while I’m trying to work-so fuckin’ needy and desperate for my cock…But because I love them so much…You’ll get to come. But not until I say. Not a fucking second before-” You nodded, thankful of his compassion before he’d pull your shirt from chest. In this moment of silence, he’d unclasp your bra to reveal your buoyant breasts to him, held by his hands and fondled into torment with the twists of each nipple at the mercy of his pinch. 

“I love how desperate you are for me, baby…but you pull that shit again and I’ll leave you tied to our bed after edging you for hours, dripping with me and an ass left raw from my hands teaching you that lesson, you understand?” You nodded. 

“Tell me you understand.” He ordered behind clenched teeth. 

“I-I understand…” You spoke quickly to appease him. 

“Good..Now bend over the table, love…You’re gonna make good on your teasing…Takin’ all of me- NOW!” Before you could appease, his hand was on the back of your neck, forcing you down hard over his laptop as he’d penetrate you immediately. 

“Don’t even need to touch you, you’re so fucking wet-always so hopeless unless my cock is inside of you-ain’t that right?”

“Yes! YES DREW!” He scoffed, a hand colliding harsh against your ass as he’d pounded into you, the usual chivalry that came to you in kind caresses and deep kisses in abandon to his desperation to claim you this way. In such a way that was meant to be a punishment, but became a reward for you both. 

“SHIT! I feel you clenching baby!” He suddenly bent over you, pulling you up just slightly to lead his breath to your ear. 

“You wouldn’t disobey me twice now would you? Won’t come until I say right?” A smack to your ass led you to gasp as he pulled tighter onto your neck. “Words baby, I’m getting impatience-”

“No! It just feels so good!”

“I know-FUCK, I know!” He groaned. 

“But you’re gonna take it. Take it like the whore you’re acting like and make ME come…not you-understand-” You answered in a lone whimper as a harsh slap made you groan, the sting feeding into your kink as he pistoned even harder into you. 

“I can’t get enough of you…” He explained into your shoulder before returning full upright, providing himself his full range of motion before a sudden withdrawal sent you feral. 

“DREW!”

“Turn around-” He ordered, once again positioning you before you could act on his demand. Before you could request anything, you were on your back, your legs taken over his shoulders, as he’d penetrate you once again. Only this time, you were able to see your entire effect on him. The way his brows furrowed in pleasure, his chest rising and falling beneath the tense of his perfect muscles, the desperate grip drawing lines of evidence along your hips as you were taken up against him-every bit as erotic as your thoughts conjured in his previous threats. 

“I love watching you take me-FUCK, you always do it so well!” Your mouth pulled apart in a deep moan. “Don’t fuckin, come, don’t you dare-”

“DREW! PLEASE!” Your whimpers were almost whispers as he’d drag your legs onto either side of him, deepening himself into you, as you’d clawed at his abdomen. 

“FUCK! FUCK-Yeah! I’m gonna come baby-Tell me you want it- FUCKING tell me!”

“Come inside me, Drew! Please!” You whimpered as he directed his fingers to your clit, his eyes focused on your pleasure. 

“Beg for me, baby! Just how I like it…come on…come ON!” He grunted, quickening his thrusts as well as his fingers. 

“DREW! DREW!” You bellowed, mewling in perfect desperation as he mirrored this with the sound of your name echoing around you. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming baby-'' He pulled you upright, as tight to his body as possible before giving you his final thrust. “Take all of me! ALL OF ME!” He groaned, the symphony of heavy breathing and curses confirming his release as he’d position you back just slightly to carry you through to your own only seconds later. 

Once you were able to limit your trembling to minor shivers, he’d offered a gentle kiss to your mouth, returning for one more before chuckling. 

“Are you okay, baby?” You nodded. 

“I’ll be a little sore, but I’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Good…Now come on…” He took your hand and led you to the direction of the bathroom. 

“Drew…” You breathed in warning as that flicker of mischief of an imminent round two lingered behind his wide eyes. 

“I’m just gonna clean you up, sweetheart.” He explained, pulling a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“But there’s no promise about later, technically, you STILL have to get punished…” You groaned, biting your lip as he’d draw his thumb across its captivity. 

“Keep pouting and I’ll prolong it, baby…” You couldn’t deny how he’d always excited you, even in threats-ones that made you more excitable for your ‘punishment’s than his ‘rewards’...

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets

[whentherewerebicycles]

time for a HOUSE UPDATE!! sorry this is of interest to absolutely no one but me but I am aggressively nesting and must narrate the process (story of my life).

well I absolutely love my place and literally the only thing I would change about it is the four-foot 1970s-style overhang that juts out over the giant picture window in the living room, which means I only get bright indirect light and never direct light indoors even during the day. but honestly it’s livable and I imagine that soon there will be very little sunlight to speak of so it probably won’t matter all that much.

here’s what’s left in each room:

LIVING ROOM

I swatched three other colors on posterboard and will hang them up to look at throughout the week (including when the rain starts and I get my first taste of PNW winter). I would like to re-paint that room this weekend or next.

I need a TV console but they’re so expensive. I think I’ll keep putting it off a while longer.

two of the gallery wall pieces aren’t quite right but I’m going to wait till I repaint to fix

I could do something better with that plant corner but that feels like a winter project

the blinds need to be restrung but I might ask my parents to help me with that in November. ditto with installing the curtain rod.

everything else is perfect! the new recliner maybe isn’t the best fit in the space but omg it’s soooooo comfy and nice for reading or watching. and the cozy levels of the sectional area are absolutely off the charts omg the extra pillows & oversized throw I bought this weekend catapulted that part of the room to a new level. sooooooo good and so fun as a space for entertaining.

KITCHEN

all good for now. would love to put up a backsplash at some point (the whole area around the sink is just blah—too many shades of white and off-white) but that might be like, a year 2 project. it’s functional! switching up the orientation of the kitchen table + adding a plant cart made such a difference in that space. it’s way cozier!

HALF BATH & LAUNDRY ROOM

now these rooms are both going to be top candidates for a winter renovation project. I think they will be fun rooms to collect lots of Pinterest inspiration for—they’re small rooms so I feel like I can do something bold and fun in there with color and/or patterns. but for now they are functional and that’s all they need to be!

in the short term though I need to declutter the laundry room (might tackle that today)

DAYROOM/OFFICE

no idea why the paint is photographing like that please trust me it is still the most beautiful color imaginable

I still need to fix the standing desk but will probably give that task to my dad

I need to declutter and organize the big closet (currently my junk space). I bought a nicer dresser for my bedroom and I think I’m going to move the old dresser into the closet to use as an organized storage space. this will be a good weekend project—maybe even this weekend if I don’t paint.

I want to eventually transform this room into my cozy winter writing space. my goal is to figure out a good way to slightly partition off the room so that my office/work desk area feels visually separated from the couch area without making the room feel too cramped or segmented. right now I’m using that plant cart but I’m thinking I’ll eventually get a long low bookshelf (maybe waist-high) to put there so I can put a row of plants along the top and have book storage space on the bottom. I may also experiment with moving the tiger rug up here and getting a diff rug that’s a better match for the kitchen. tbd!!

I’m also going to hang the whiteboard, move Pip’s bed over to that corner so it’s hidden behind the partition, get rid of the IKEA chair in the far corner, move in a small little coffee table in front of the sofa, and get some throw pillows and blankets that actually work in that room. I may also put up curtains to pull that window area together a bit more.

I should really get a pullout couch or comfy futon for guests instead of the current beat-up sofa but I’m loath to spend lots of money on that room when I think that might be the nursery (or foster kid bedroom) within the next couple years depending on how things go. anyway it’s fine for now!

OH and crucially I gotta figure out the walls. I think instead of a gallery wall I may do shelves with leaning framed art + small objects like I had in my old living room. but first I have to figure out how the rest of the room will be arranged so I know what to center the shelves on. I think getting stuff on the walls will make this space feel more like an actual room and not just the place where I cram stuff that doesn’t have a home yet.

LITTLE LIBRARY

I adore this little room that is all lol

I need to finish scraping paint off the ceiling (it’s not hard it just takes some elbow grease)

I may want to get a little side table for my squirrel lamp + a little plant to go under the Rohan poster.

I want to get a small round rug but it’s not urgent! I also kinda have to decide if I want this to be a reading nook with a beanbag or small cozy chair or if I just want it to be a nice-looking open storage area.

oh and I need to organize my books at some point lol I just threw them on the shelves so I could get rid of the boxes

MY BEDROOM

this will be a winter project… it’s functional for now but it’s very bare bones. I am leaning towards doing a rich dark teal accent wall behind the bed and leaving the rest of the room white OR maybe doing a terracotta pink accent wall but we’ll see—I reallyyyyyyy don’t want to paint right now lol

I have two nightstands and a dresser coming this week so that should be a big upgrade to that room visually

I am going to buy a cheap new headboard to replace my cheap old headboard

for art… I think I may want to do a small gallery wall of fandom stuff (My Guys!) over the dresser in this little recessed area of the room—it’s visible from the bed but not from the hall so I think that’s a good compromise on Decorating Like An Adult and following my heart’s desire to plaster images of My Guys everywhere aha. for the rest of the room I think I need to do more Pinterest browsing for inspiration… maybe some bigger art pieces or maybe some shelves with plants or maybe something else who can say!! the space is perfectly usable right now and I can slowly acquire things & ideas to improve it.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 5

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST. AND MORE TO COME! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @edlothia-baby @soul-end @willieoo @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy

Author's Note: I have nothing to say for any of the emotions y'all are about to get from this. Enjoy!-Thorne

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she sat down, but the stretching silence growing between her and her estranged family wasn’t it. She tried to look anywhere but them, not because she was ashamed—far from it. But it was more than awkward sitting across from three brothers and a father she’d not spoken to in three years, let alone tell them she was even alive.

Her eyes found Wally’s as he sat down beside her eldest brother and if looks could’ve killed, he’d been dead and buried.

“Glare at me all you want, but I’m not going to apologize,” he shrugged.

Scowling, she turned her attention to the skyline. “Fuck you,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“At least talk to them, (Y/N).”

“And why should I, Wally?” she questioned, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything to say. If I did, I wouldn’t be here in Central.”

“You’re not leaving until you talk to them,” he finalized with a firm look and she growled low in her throat and resigned herself to her fate.

Her eyes darted to her father’s and she couldn’t for the life of her decipher what was in them. “I’ll talk for an hour,” she told him. “I’m not talking about what I’ve been doing in Central City, so don’t ask. I’m not talking about the life I’ve been living, so don’t ask. You’re only allowed to ask me about my departure and that’s it. But after one hour is up, I’m leaving.”

“Who said you get to leave,” Wally questioned, and she shot him the darkest glower she could muster.

“So help me God, Wally West you’ll either take me home or you’ll fix that fucking elevator and I’ll walk myself home. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world who every vigilante is at this table.”

For once she managed to stump him because his eyes went wide—so did her family’s but she didn’t care—and he finally nodded.

“Alright. One hour.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she turned back to her family, more specifically her father. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe for you to come home, (Y/N),” Jason answered, and she glanced to him.

“Not a chance. Next?”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to be hostile. We’re not going to force you here,” Dick said, and she looked at him now, eyes narrowing.

“The manipulation tactic isn’t going to work on me, Dick. I’m not here for to be tricked into coming back. I’m never coming back.” She cocked her leg over the side of the table and reclined, biting out, “Give me your anger. I’d prefer that instead of whatever this pitiful bullshit you’ve got going on.”

In the eighteen years they’d known their sister they’d never heard her say such a callous thing, but her words had practically slapped Dick across the face because hurt etched onto his expression, then immediately turned into anger.

“You want my anger? Fine.” He stood and pointed at her. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would just up and disappear like you did! Do you have any idea how scared we were for you! How distraught!”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Knowing how you like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because you can’t help but be a hero? Probably a lot.” She made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “You’ve got forty minutes. Keep it up.”

Her eyes shifted to Bruce’s. “Did you let them read the letter? Or did you just throw it away after you read it?”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned to Bruce at that.

“Letter?” Tim repeated. “What letter?”

(Y/N)’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then she smiled knowingly. “Oh, you never showed them the letter, did you?” She looked to her brothers. “I wrote dad a letter the night I left to explain why I was leaving. It’s sugarcoated bullshit but it is the truth.”

Dick’s face contorted in anger. “(Y/N) left a reason behind and you didn’t tell us about it? Three years and not a single word?”

Bruce merely stared at her as he pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. “I was going to burn it when I found her again. Talk to her before anyone else could.”

Jason snatched the letter from his hands. It had faded a bit, softened around the hard edges, like someone had opened it and read it every day for three years.

His eyes scanned the paper, and he met her gaze, voice chock-full of hurt and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself from externally reacting. “You left because you thought we didn’t care about you?”

Dick reached over and took the letter. With furrowed brows and a frown, he started to read aloud, and Bruce gazed at (Y/N) as the memory came back to him.

***

Mornings at the manor were unusually quiet in comparison with the evenings. Everyone was typically too tired to argue so it accounted for a peaceful breakfast of soft words and chewing. Everyone had an assigned seat and every child had learned early on not to take the seat that belonged to another brother or their sister because there would be a fight about it.

Dick and Jason sat next to each other and (Y/N) took the seat at the end of that side; Tim and Damian took the other side—oldest to youngest, just the neat and even way Bruce liked it.

It was rare for any of the boys to be awake before him or Alfred and (Y/N) was usually the first kid to the table, the boys wandering in just minutes after her. Oddly enough, that morning she hadn’t come down for breakfast—which she always came to.

Bruce looked at Alfred. “Is (Y/N) coming down?”

Alfred hummed and gently maneuvered Tim’s arm to the side to he could set down the plate. “When I went to her door, it was locked, and I received no conversation from inside.”

Jason snorted and sipped his coffee. “Probably had a long night with her friends and is still out. I know I would be.”

“How would you know?” Tim interrupted. “You died before you got to the eleventh grade.”

“You’re one to talk, dropout,” Dick countered, and Damian sighed.

“Richard, you dropped out of college. The only son of Batman who has actually completed an entire bout of schooling is me.”

The three boys turned on him with scowls and retorted, “No one asked you, pipsqueak.” Damian glared back at them.

Bruce rolled his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut into his omelet. “Let’s try not to start a free-for-all here in the breakfast room, please.” He glanced at Alfred. “She’s probably tired from all the ceremonies. Let her sleep.”

Alfred nodded. “Of course, Master Bruce. She should be well rested this evening.”

But when the evening came, Alfred still hadn’t been able to get (Y/N) to unlock her bedroom nor speak to him. He certainly wasn’t worried, but it was off for her to be so reclusive. When Bruce and the boys came back from patrol, he mentioned it to him.

“Miss (Y/N) hasn’t come out from her bedroom, Master Bruce. Nor has she said a single word all day.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed and he tugged the cowl off, rising from the seat at the Batcomputer. “I’ll go check on her,” he replied. “You deal with…” his steel eyes drifted to Dick who had Tim in a headlock and Jason who was giving Damian a noogie. “Them,” he finalized, leaving the poor butler behind.

He knocked on the door to her room and pressed his ear to it. “(Y/N)? You haven’t come out all day. Is everything alright?”

Nothing. Not even a breath.

“(Y/N), are you in there?” he asked again and when he didn’t receive a confirmation, he raised his arm, running his fingers along the doorframe until he touched a small metal piece. He pulled it down and stuck it in the door, wiggling the knob for a second before it clicked, and he opened the door.

“Sweetheart, we’ve been trying to—” Bruce went silent when he saw the kempt room. Bed neatly made, everything organized and put away. Even her clothes hamper was empty.

He blinked and walked into the room, quickly heading to the bathroom to check for her there. It was empty as well, and just as clean, leaving him stunned as he exited the bath.

Wandering over to her desk, he saw an elegant envelope sitting on top of her laptop, his name written in beautiful penmanship. He picked it up and unfolded it, pulling out the multi-page letter. He drew his eyes along the golden lines, reading her words.

Dad,

I don’t really know how to start this letter. Truth be told I’ve written at least six before this one, and even then, I’m not entirely happy with it. But if you’re reading this, I’m not here anymore. I haven’t hurt myself in anyway, you don’t need to worry about Vicki Vale or Jack Ryder reporting the discovery of my body. I mean it in a literal sense—I’m not in Gotham anymore. Neither am I ever coming back.

Don’t think this is your fault. You’re a good father, the best I could’ve been given, and my brothers are good siblings. But the truth is that I’m not fit for this family of heroes. And I never have been. My best when trying to be what all of you are, was never good enough and I’ve spent eighteen years staring at your backs, waiting for you all to realize that I’m still here, that I still matter even if I’m not like you. And I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home any longer.

I don’t want you to look for me. I know you will, but I wish you wouldn’t. This isn’t some spur of the moment thing I decided to do the night after graduation. If you look at my bank records, I’ve been withdrawing cash from my savings since freshman year—this is four years of planning, so please understand that I’m doing this because I don’t want to be found—ever.

I’ll leave the story for the media up for you, though I doubt that they’ll care long enough to make a deal of it. It’ll pass like winter does spring and they’ll move on to the next bigger story.

Thank you for everything dad, and good luck with Gotham—keep it safe like you always have. And I hope that one day when you think of me, you won’t feel disappointment. I’ve only ever tried to be something that when you looked down on me, you’d only be proud, and I hope one day I’ll achieve what I always dreamed about. Eighteen is young to be on your own and I’m scared. But I’ll be okay—I always have been.

So do me a favor and don’t spend too much time over this. There are plenty more younger kids that need a parent’s hand on their backs to steady them like you once did for me. Find one and fill my spot. Let them shine brighter than I ever could. Let them be the one worthy to be a Wayne—I know I never was.

-(Y/N)

Bruce barely had time to grasp the back of her chair to keep himself from falling to his knees in shock. The letter was clenched in his hand and his lungs wouldn’t take in air like he wanted them to, his heart aching with each palpitation. He looked around the room to her dresser drawers, willing the strength into his legs to moved over to it. He opened every drawer and to his astonishment, they were empty. Hurrying to the bathroom, he noticed the drawers in there were empty as well. She was really gone. And he had no idea what to do.

***

Tears were in Dick’s eyes when he finished the letter and he looked up at her. “How could you ever think we didn’t care about you, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to sit there and explain every time she asked her brothers if they wanted to do something with her and they conveniently had something else to do. Didn’t want to explain every school and extracurricular performance that went unattended and left a little girl standing in front of a crowd barely managing to stave off the tears as she bowed and thanked them for coming. She didn’t want to remember all the memories that chipped away at her heart with every disappointment that occurred. All she wanted to do was leave.

(Y/N) had earlier returned to her original position, hands in her lap and she clenched her fists until her nails bit into the skin of her palms, eyes directed anywhere but Dick’s.

“I think it’s time we call this little reunion done,” she said, standing to her feet. “We’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Not if you run again,” Jason muttered, unconsciously wiping a tear from his eye.

She pointed at him, hissing, “I didn’t run the first time, Jason. I left. On my own accord.”

“You ran instead of coming to us, (Y/N),” Tim said, and she threw her hands above her head in disbelief.

“What the fuck did you want me to do! Wander down into the cave and beg at your feet for someone to pay attention to me! To at least pretend like I was a sister! I did! Every day!”

(Y/N) picked up her purse and yanked it up her arm. “Cassandra seems to be fitting in better than I did. So go and dote on her as the younger sibling. I’m not interested in the position anymore.”

“It’s not a competition,” Dick explained. “We love you just as much as we love Cass.”

She paused and gazed at him, voice laced with disappointment as she disagreed, “Then you should make sure she’s content in the manor, because if you love her with any semblance of how you loved me? It’s not at all.”

Her eyes shifted to Wally’s. “Fix the elevator. Now.”

He stayed seated for a moment, the two of them staring each other down, then he nodded wordlessly and moved to the elevator, starting it again. Her family stayed seated, and she gave them one final look before she followed Wally, silently waiting for the doors to open.

When they did, she stepped inside and turned around, hitting the button. Just before the doors closed, Wally stopped them and murmured, “You’re making a mistake.”

“My worst mistake was becoming friends with you.” (Y/N) blinked at him, then reached up and shoved his hand away from the door and as it closed, she remarked coldly, “And you can go to hell for all I care.”

[ijustwant2write]

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic) (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @elenawinchstr)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @myficplace @yelenas-lova @lavxnder @s-unflowxr 

Summary: Benedict and Eloise both anticipate Lady (Y/N)’s social event, as does their mother, causing tensions to rise and panic to ensue. Benedict doesn’t want his mother ruining what he may have with (Y/N), asking Eloise for her help, who gladly plays the role of a good sister.

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Anthony Bridgerton and Violet Bridgerton

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

                                   *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Benedict hastily moved around the house, avoiding his mama at all costs. She called out his name repeatedly, growing frustrated at his childish manner. He was supposed to discuss a plan with her about how he should prepare to court Lady (Y/N), but he knew better; his mama knew nothing of (Y/N) (he admitted, he still had much to learn about her too), and he didn’t want his chance to slip away. Although he was confident at her house when he called upon her, there was a sickening doubt looming in his mind that if he did anything wrong, another suitor could easily take his place.

“You have no where else to hide brother.” Anthony smirked, his eyes skimming over the top of his newspaper.

Benedict sighed, accepting defeat. She would find him in a matter of minutes, especially since Anthony’s office was the last place she would look. 

“Please, just let me stay her for a few moments.” Benedict begged.

Anthony chuckled, putting down the papers as he reclined in his chair.“Oh dear, I see things are turning serious quite quickly.”

“Yes, which wouldn’t be a problem if mama wasn’t making this such a big ordeal.”

“But it is to her.”

Benedict knew this.“I know that, because someone hasn’t found a woman to marry, so it then falls onto my shoulders.”

“I haven’t seen you so anxious before. Sit down, try to relax.”

Benedict took his offer, practically collapsing into the chair on the other side of the desk. Anthony stood, pouring out a drink each and handing one to Benedict. Though not one to drink in the early afternoon, he gladly sipped at it, wishing he would just calm down.

“Besides mama, what is going on in that head of yours?” Anthony asked. 

He genuinely wanted to help. He felt a slight guilt knowing that his mama was more excited about this possible partnership, seeing as he never gave her the satisfaction of even socialising with women. 

“I worry that I may not be enough for (Y/N).” he said.“Of course, I have talked to women, I know the right things to say, but I also know that I will not want to engage in further conversation. Whereas with (Y/N), she intrigues me, so much that even after we danced and talked for hours, I still felt like I hardly spent any time with her. I thought about every word I said, listened intently to everything that poured out of her mouth. There are no other women like her.”

Anthony didn’t speak for a few seconds.“You should write poems alongside your art work.”

Benedict groaned, about to stand when Anthony stopped him.

“I am teasing you brother. Look, it’s extremely obvious that you have fallen for this woman. Putting feelings aside for a moment, she also comes from a well off family with a respectable background, so you’ve done very well in that department. This art exhibition will allow me to also see what Lady (Y/N) and her family are like, as well as keep mama away from you both as much as I can.”

“You would do that for me?”

“You seem shocked. I will pretend not to be offended.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you too do not like to be....bothered by mama at these events. No doubt she’ll talk to you about my potential courtship all night.”

The door opened as he finished speaking, Violet popping her head in. Her smile widened when she saw both her sons in the same room, now able to speak with them both about Lady (Y/N). Anthony and Benedict shared a look, knowing they would be there for some time.

Elsewhere in the house, Eloise was suffering through a conversation with Hyacinth. As Daphne had to endure, Hyacinth was questioning her older sister, wanting to know everything there was to know about the balls they attended. She wanted to make sure she had all the knowledge she needed when it was her turn to debut. They never spoke of these things in front of her or Gregory and she wanted all the answers. However, Eloise was not revealing anything, and making it seems that everything to do with debuting was awful.

“Go away and pester somebody else.” Eloise huffed as she descended the stairs away from her sister.

“Why are you always so mean to me? I’m just asking questions!” Hyacinth protested.

Eloise felt guilty, especially since Hyacinth was still young and didn’t understand many things about the world yet.“I’m sorry, but I’m not the best person to ask these questions.”

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

“If I explain, you won’t understand.”

“Yes I will!”

“You won’t Hyacinth.”

“You’re so mean!”

The young girl stomped off, having a tantrum to herself. Eloise did feel bad for being so snappy with her sister, but she really didn’t like talking about these things, doing all she could to avoid it where possible. It just made her feel miserable. And who wants to dote on a topic that eliminates all happiness from them?

However, Eloise did find that she was excited about the art exhibition. She was curious as to how (Y/N) and her brother’s encounter would go. For a moment, she felt like her mama. It sent shudders down her spine. It was nice to have the pressure and attention off of her, and to see her brothers in the spotlight. She knew too many friends with brothers who had it easier than the women of the family. Of course they had certain expectations, but Eloise did not see any men parading around in uncomfortable, tight dresses, with over the top embellishments and feathers. 

The remaining days leading up to the art exhibition were filled with dress and suit fittings, lessons on the (Y/L/N) family, and making sure everyone knew how important this day could be. Benedict grew more and more nervous as it approached, his mama making him realise that this could be a turning point in his life. Before this was all about him being excited to see (Y/N), to be in her company again, now it was as if he was proposing to her.

Eloise stepped out into the garden, welcoming the warmth that was still lingering at this time of night. She couldn’t sleep, knowing what was on her mind, but not wanting to admit it. She wasn’t surprised to see Benedict already on the swing set, secretly smoking as they had both done before. A small smile appeared on her face as she approached him, making sure to create some sort of noise as to not startle him.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one being kept awake.” she said as she sat down.

“I haven’t even tried to sleep yet.” Benedict said before inhaling through his cigarette again.

“Is someone nervous?” she wasn’t teasing him, she was concerned.

“Yes.” he surprisingly said.“I’m nervous because mother has made me believe everything is depending on this next meeting. Yet she forgets how long Daphne took to decide who she was marrying.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because (Y/N) likes you.” 

Benedict chuckled."Ah, I forgot you were the expert on such topics."

"I may not know a lot about...feelings and love, but I am not a fool. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you first saw her. (Y/N) was practically speechless too. But not like the other women who fawn over the Bridgerton name, she actually liked you for your face, for some reason. I don't know, it just seemed that there was something natural between you."

"Eloise Bridgerton, what a doting thing to say."

"I am trying to be nice to you brother."

"I know. And I appreciate it, but...I feel at ease with (Y/N), and I don't like the thought of mother's eyes burning into the back of my head. Anthony has said that he will do what he can to help, but I fear that mother will not be totally distracted by him. She’ll know his sudden interest will be fake.”

Eloise had an idea, and even if she didn’t want to go through with it, she knew it would help Benedict.“I will regret saying this, but I shall help too. I will make sure mama is paying attention to me, I’ll let her drag me around and indulge in hideously, dull conversations.”

Benedict had been shocked for the second time that day. Two of his siblings, both detesting the thought of marriage, had offered to suffer through this social event in order to give him time with (Y/N).

“What has happened to you two today?” Benedict asked.

“We are merely being charitable. Hopefully you return the favour in future. God knows I’ll be in need of saving soon.”

(Y/N) was all a flutter on the morning of the exhibition. Her mother had bought a new dress just for this, wanting to impress the Bridgerton family, prepping their halls and rooms for the exhibition for the last week. (Y/N)’s father was proud of what he had created, and that his daughter may be on her way to marrying a family who were held highly in their society. (Y/N) couldn’t focus at all, relieved that her maids were the ones in charge of getting her dressed and ready for the day; if left to her own devices, she surely would have put her dress on backwards. 

Guests streamed in, but (Y/N) was only on the lookout for one person. She remained polite, trying to stay in the moment as more and more people arrived. However, she still kept an eye out for Benedict, also staying on her toes. She had many things in mind to say to him, and she wanted to keep them in her mind. There was no way she was going to humiliate herself. 

Her heart started beating a thousand times faster when she saw Benedict enter the main hall, the one holding the biggest and most expensive pieces of art. She smiled, and somehow it grew even bigger when he made eye contact with him. His smile was so sweet, it made you fall for his charms even more. Benedict felt his stomach twist in anticipation, desperate to have just a few moments with (Y/N). Alas, that did not come when his mama latched onto his arm, steering him in (Y/N)’s direction. Although he wanted to speak with her, he found it all rather forceful, especially when (Y/N)’s parents suddenly appeared behind her.

Formal introductions were made, each set of parents making small talk about the last time they were in each others company. (Y/N) and Benedict were silent, nodding along with what was being said as they sneaked glances at each other. The conversation was dragging for them, they knew their parents wanted to figure out if this could be a potential arrangement. It didn’t seem that they were going to stop talking at any point, neither child wanting to be rude, until Eloise intruded.

“Pardon me,” she started, sending a subtle smile to Benedict,“mama, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Ah, another Bridgerton. The next daughter to find a suitor, I presume?” (Y/N)’s mother beamed.

Eloise hid the urge to frown. Luckily her mother stepped in.“Yes, this is Eloise. I’m sorry darling, I did not mean to leave you stranded.”

“Yes, well, shall we?” Eloise tugged at her mother’s arm.

“Alright dear. It was lovely to see you both again.” 

As Violet eagerly followed Eloise, (Y/N)’s parents also dispersed. Benedict and (Y/N) were now finally together, just as they had wished; so why did it suddenly feel awkward?

“Well, that seemed to easy.” Benedict cleared his throat.

“What was?” (Y/N) asked.

“Getting rid of them.” he grinned, holding out his arm.

(Y/N) smiled back, happy to hold onto him.“I was trying to come up with something to say that would not be rude, but would also mean we could leave. I hope that it wasn’t obvious I wanted to leave.”

“Even if it was, I doubt they would care too much. We both know they are over excited.”

“Oh how right you are. I’m assuming your mother has been acting the same as mine this whole week?”

“Overbearing? Overthinking? Over-”

(Y/N) giggled.“Yes, yes, I do not wish to dote on the memory. I am happy that you are here though Benedict.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

The pair’s arms stayed linked as (Y/N) guided Benedict around the art work. Sometimes they joined other conversations, though liked to keep to themselves. It was easy to bond over artwork, especially since it was a passion both of them had. There were no pauses or silences after a few minutes of talking, conversation flowed naturally between them. Men and women also searching for suitors were jealous; a Bridgerton boy had been swept up all too quickly and (Y/N) had been a popular choice amongst the men. However, people could not deny they made a fitting pair.

"Come, let me show you something." (Y/N) muttered to Benedict, easily slipping away from the crowds and leaving the room.

"We really shouldn't be alone (Y/N)." Benedict said, even though this was all he had been wanting.

(Y/N) had a cheeky smile on her face as she tugged on his arm, her steps gradually getting quicker. Benedict didn't even take in her elaborate house, only looking at her beautiful face every time she glanced up at him. They stopped before two grand doors, which (Y/N) cautiously opened, slipping inside with Benedict close behind her.

In the middle of the room was a huge painting covered by a fine piece of cloth. Benedict was confused why (Y/N) brought him to this, until she let go of his hand (him instantly missing the feeling), and theatrically pulled the piece of fabric down. Benedict's jaw dropped as the piece was revealed. He had never seen a painting like it.

It was a large, landscape painting of a ballroom. It captured dancing pairs in the middle of some sort of waltz, musicians huddled in the corner whilst the other guests stood watching; and it was so intricate, Benedict guessed it must have taken the artist months to complete it. All the colours, the detail, it almost looked real.

"This is amazing." he breathed out.

(Y/N) was happy when she saw Benedict's shock."Isn't it? It's supposed to be revealed later, but I wanted to see your expression properly."

"Who painted it?"

"I don't know. Father said he is going to inform everyone later, but it is a new artist. I just think they're work is dazzling to look at. I become mesmerised."

Benedict's focus changed back to (Y/N)."Yes, that does tend to happen."

She didn't notice that he was referring to her, nodding along in agreement. Her smile faltered slightly, which Benedict was able to see immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he neared her, hating the gap that was created

(Y/N) covered her slip up, as her mother had told her."I'm sorry, it's really nothing..." she started, but found herself relaxed, and wanting to tell Benedict all her problems."It's only that...I used to paint frequently, well, I sketched more, though I enjoyed both. Like all girls, my mother told me to stop that and focus on becoming the most desired lady in society. I shouldn't have even told you about that when we first met."

"That's what made me desire you (Y/N)."

She blushed, realising how intense his gaze was."Oh, Lord Bridgerton-"

"What's with all the formalities all of a sudden?"

"I-I don't know. I don't want to ruin anything and it's only our second meeting. Third if you count when you called upon me."

"And I called upon you for a very good reason."

"I was wishing that everyone else would leave, so I could spend more time with you."

Benedict loved hearing her say that."As did I."

Subconsciously they had moved closer, though they both knew what they were doing. Benedict reached down to tenderly hold her hands, causing her heart to beat erratically. (Y/N) had no idea what to do, she only had experience from the books she read. It seemed simple enough to kiss someone, but also the hardest thing in the world. How much pressure should she apply? How long should they kiss for? Where would she put her hands? Where would he put his hands? She didn't have anytime to think as he was already leaning in towards her.

Eloise and Anthony were finding it extremely hard to keep the fake smiles plastered on their faces. Benedict was really in for it once this was all over. Their mama had kept a tight grip on them both, because as soon as they saw their chance to flee, they would. Both had to suffer through extremely long, boring and repetitive conversations, listening to parents boast about their children's achievements. Everyone knew how this worked, yet they all had to pretend to be happy about it.

"Where is Benedict? He's been away for a long time." their mama pondered as they took a break for refreshments.

"He's probably wooing Lady (Y/N), just as you wanted." Eloise slurped on her drink.

"Do not fret mother, he knows what he's doing. He truly likes her and will be doing all he can to...well, yes, woo her." Anthony said.

"I suppose you are right. It feels strange that one of my children are making an effort for once."

Eloise huffed."Oh, do not chastise us mama. We've been doing this all afternoon, haven't we?"

Violet squinted her eyes at them, suspicious that they were up to something. She was about to question it, but stopped herself. They were doing what she always wanted, finding someone to spend their future with. She wouldn't jeopardise that. Lucky for them, a servant announced that Lord (Y/L/N) requested for everyone's presence inside. The guests were intrigued, following orders and grabbing full glasses of whatever quenched their thirst. Eloise and Anthony had got away with their plan for now, they just hoped Benedict and (Y/N) had had enough time together. 

[littlemissnoname13]

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part four

Summary: Y/n and Draco find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader ft. Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini

Warnings: Excessive smoking, Drinking, mature language and themes, sex, masturbation, 18+ content, reader discretion is highly advised

A/n: as always, thank you for reading WOS. This story has gotten so close to my heart over the last few weeks of writing it and I am grateful for every one that read part 1,2,3. And to everyone who guessed the Astoria plot line, Damn ya’ll are too good! 

I’d like to stress that smoking is injurious to health.

Word count: almost 4000

Part One, two & three if you haven’t caught up already

Thursday (Continued)

With his palms resting flat on the shower wall and his grey eyes fixed on the floor below, Draco allowed the lukewarm water to trail down his body and calm his nerves. 

Between the restlessness he’d felt after his father’s visit and the stinging feeling of remembering just what was expected of him, he’d barely managed to sleep a wink for three consecutive nights.

And how could he have gone to sleep when he knew you were in that classroom—waiting for him in your silky little dress. 

Oh..wait a minute. 

He smirked to himself when he remembered that he had destroyed the top half of your dress in an attempt to tug it off your shoulders. 

You looked absolutely stunning with the bottom half of your dress pushed back as you spread your legs wide open on top of a classroom desk—he had fucked you so fucking hard that day. 

Draco wrapped his hand around his length and began to pump slowly as he recalled the way you wrapped your legs around his torso as he moved in and out of you.

Your moans. 

He wondered if you were even aware of the effect your moans had on him. 

The way his name slipped out of your cherry lips and the way your tits bounced with every thrust only made him want to drive deeper into you. 

He let out a sharp grunt as he started to pump harder, fantasising about all the places he’d fuck you in.

He’d press you up against the shower wall and push himself deep into your cunt from behind, he’d lay you down on his desk and eat you out till you were a quivering mess before driving in and out of you, he would bend you over one of the common room sofas and fuck you so hard and fast if he ever got the chance to. 

He’d make you cum time and again till you were sore and dripping with his release—fuck. 

Draco let his high take all over him for a brief moment before opening his eyes when he heard his dresser drawer creak. 

He dismissed the strange sound and washed the remaining soap from his body before stepping out and towel drying his hair. 

“Draco! Y/n is here to see you.”  

Astoria? What on earth is she doing here? This can’t be good.

He frantically wrapped the towel around his torso and stepped outside the bathroom.

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, observing the eye bags under your eyes. You were wearing a loose fitted white shirt with the sleeves pushed back and the top two buttons undone.

If Astoria wasn’t gaping at the exchange between the two of you, he would have had you pinned against the wall already. 

“I—I Just—” you began but before you could reach the end of your sentence, Theo jogged up to his door and stood right next to you, panting.

“Oh, you’re all here.Good.” He said with excitement saturated into his voice. “Apparently, there’s a party this Saturday night in the room of requirement and we are going—I am not taking no for an answer.” 

“That sounds like so much fun.” Astoria grinned and looked at Draco expectantly,making your stomach twist.

“It’s not like we have a choice.” Draco muttered still looking at you while Astoria beamed at him. 

“So, Y/n you were saying something?” Astoria politely turning the conversation back to you.

“I actually just came in here to talk about the party too.” You lied looking Draco directly in the eye.

Friday

Even though you were walking to class while bumping into a sea of students, your head was somewhere else. 

But of course Malfoy was sleeping around with other girls!

How could you have forgotten?! Maybe he was shagging Astoria outside that classroom the other nig—

“Going somewhere?” Draco asked as soon as he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a gap in the corridor. 

“Yes, Away from you!” You spat angrily. “And I don’t appreciate you lurking around, pushing me into a wall every chance you get.”

“I just needed to talk to you y/l/n.”

“About what? Your girlfriend?” You blurted, instantly regretting your decision.

“She is not my girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah? Then what is she?!” 

What you heard next made the ground crumble from beneath you and you couldn’t help but wish you had paid more attention to your mother’s letters—especially the one about the announcement at the New year’s ball. 

~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~

Dear Y/n,

Your father and I are looking forward to having you back home for Christmas. 

It will give us some quiet family time before the New Year’s Ball hosted by the Malfoys. I’ve heard it through the grapevine that young Malfoy is getting betrothed to one of the Greengrass sisters and they will officially be announcing the betrothal that night. 

Isn’t that absolutely fantastic?  

Let me know what sort of dress robe you’d like to wear to the Ball this year. I will make necessary arrangements. 

Send my regards to Adrian. 

Love,

Mum

~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~~

Saturday

Vodka always tasted unpleasant to say the least. In fact, it burned. 

But it burned a lot less than the burn you felt watching Astoria reclining against Draco across the room.

Vodka always gave the worst type of hangover and with every gulp, you knew you were on a steady path to a regretful morning after. 

But the morning after drowning yourself in unadulterated vodka shots was better than watching the soon to be Fiancé of the boy you were slowly harbouring feelings for wear his blazer on top of her silver sequinned dress. 

What kind of a deranged person gets jealous over someone that was never theirs to begin with?

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the ridiculously attractive blonde boy dressed in all back, knocked back a few shots and happily accepted Pansy’s hand as she pulled you to the dance floor. 

One minute you were jumping around with Pansy, Blaise and Theo and the next minute, you were seeing nothing but pitch black darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Firm arms gripped your waist as you staggered back to your room after blacking out at the party. In all honesty, the person walking you wasn’t much help either with his bloodshot eyes and unsteady footsteps. 

“You— you shouldn’t have walked me to my room.” 

“I know.” Draco said simply as he watched you walk shakily up to your door.

“Go back to the party Draco.” You said with your voice wavering as he slowly inched closer and closer to you till you were firmly pressed against the door. “You know you shouldn’t be here right now.”

“I know.” He said once again before pressing his own Firewhisky laced lips with yours. “I know.” 

Maybe it was the intoxication, maybe it was the way he held firmly onto your waist as his tongue collided with your own but you used your wand to unlock your door with your mouth still attached to his. 

Both of you entered the room bumping into furniture, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to your bed.

Sunday

“What is happening to this world again? Can someone please walk me through?— I am simply too hungover right now.” Pansy groaned, scratching her head as he opened the door to your shared dorm with Theo and Blaise right behind her. 

Having partied all night long, all three of them were too tired to make sense of the scene in front of them. 

“Yeah, I thought Malfoy was with Astoria now.” Theo scratched his chin at the sight of your head on Draco’s chest as you both slept. 

Pansy’s eyes widened when she heard Astoria’s name as she quickly ran inside the room. 

“Wake the fuck up you idiots.” She yelled using her wand to draw away the curtains making Draco groan as the morning light hit his eyes. 

“What’s all this ruckus about.” You mumbled snuggling closer to Draco as your eyes slowly opened to see a glaring pansy accompanied by Theo and Blaise. 

“I have invited Astoria up here to hang out with us, so both of you have a lot of explaining to do before she gets here.”

Monday

“So let me get this straight.” Theo began, as he took a long drag from one of Draco’s cigarettes. “Both of you have been fucking around—traumatising poor Blaise for the last two weeks, correct?”

Draco rolled his eyes, scoffing as he lit up another cigarette while you shrugged. 

The four of you were at the astronomy tower, reclining against the railings as the day faded away into a chilly winter evening. 

“And you two claim that you are not together, correct?”

At this, both you and Draco turned to look at each other—as if questioning each other about the status of your relationship. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You finally said, slowly breaking eye contact with Draco. “He is getting betrothed to Astoria anyway.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Pansy asked, her face barely visible from all the smoke she was exhaling. 

“Never been better.” You lied, reaching for a cigarette for yourself. You placed the filter end in between your lips and lit it up, inhaling quickly. 

The second you did, tears automatically started to stream from your eyes as you started to cough. 

Draco shook his head and turned to you. 

“Here.” He muttered taking a step towards you, before taking a deep drag from the cancer stick in between his fingers. 

With his free hand raked inside your hair, he pulled your face closer to his until his lips were barely touching yours.

“Inhale y/n.” He murmured, as wisps of smoke left his lips and entered yours. 

You were too preoccupied by his proximity to notice the gagging sounds your friends were making beside you. 

Tuesday

On your way to the library after class, you heard the voice of Lucius Malfoy right outside the dungeons. 

He was going on and on about a ring and how irresponsible Draco was for not getting one made already. Christmas holidays were nearing and Lucius was sure Draco would tarnish the Malfoy family name by not having a ring made on time.

You simply didn’t understand why the Malfoy’s couldn't just use an old family heirloom but you decided to not question it as you walked past them—watching the tired and defeated expression on Draco’s face.

Wednesday

Draco lay on his bed, fiddling with an oval cut emerald ring with the letter “M” engraved on the back of it. The ring had been with the Malfoy women for generations and he simply could not picture the ring on Astoria’s fingers. 

And even though he had no say on his betrothal, he wanted to have a say on the ring and so he had insisted on getting something else made for Astoria. 

But the last two weeks had gone by in a matter of seconds so he did not find the time to, and could not even be bothered to go and have another ring made.

He had known about his impending engagement since the beginning of the year. He’d taken Astoria out several times but he knew there was nothing to that relationship besides sex and chaste kisses on the cheeks exchanged during family dinners.

He didn’t really mind at first, everything felt fine and he simply craved the validation of his father. 

Draco was doing just fine before you came along. 

Sure, life was a little lacklustre. The sky wasn’t as azure, his morning coffee wasn’t as aromatic, and cigarettes were simply means of deteriorating his lungs.

But now, things had shifted a little. 

He felt happier than he had felt in a really long time.

Just as he was opening up his drawer to put away the family heirloom, you knocked on his door—looking breathless. 

“I’m sorry but I overheard your conversation with your father and I think I might be able to help.”

“Huh?” Draco asked, tilting his head,watching you as you grabbed his left hand and dropped a shiny Amethyst ring in the palm of his hands. 

“I had it made for my birthday last month.” You shrugged, it’ll help you keep your father off your back till you get another made.”

If he hadn't fallen in love with you already, he surely did in that particular moment, as he pulled you into his arms, desperately crashing his lips on top of yours. 

Fuck validation. 

Fuck everything. 

Fuck everyone. 

Thursday

Your back firmly pressed against his bare chest—his heart beat calm and steady. 

Draco had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he possessively pulled you closer to him the way he always did. 

That is how you had woken up. 

Cuddled up with him in his incredibly snug and comfortable bed within four walls enclosed with the smell of bourbon, mixed with the smell of soap, sex and his absurdly expensive cigarettes. 

Even with your eyes still shut, your lips couldn’t help but curve upwards when you felt his breathing gently tickle the back of your neck. 

That is how you had woken up that morning and you honestly wouldn’t mind waking up like that for the mornings to come. 

“Morning Y/l/n.” 

His raspy and deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine as his soft lips came in contact with the spot right below your ears. 

“Morning.” 

He continued to sensually suckle and nibble that particular spot and you suddenly found yourself wanting to be suckled and nibbled on other places. 

“Draco.” You hummed pushing yourself further into his embrace. There was something so fulfilling and satisfying about the way you fit into each other's embraces. Entangled arms, limbs and all. 

The hands that were wrapped securely around your waist now trailed upwards until they found your breasts. 

The feel of his hands taking their own sweet time—softly kneading your sensitive flesh was enough to have you writhing against him 

He made sure to take his time and give equal attention to both your breasts, using his slender fingers to pinch and tug at your hardened buds till you were pushing your hips further back towards him—craving friction, any type of friction really. 

“Easy now.” He lazily whispered into your ear as you started to grind your hips urgently against his erection aching to feel him inside of you again. 

You were empty and missed the feeling of being full but he was nowhere near done with worshiping your breasts—making you restless and impatient with each squeeze. 

“Draco.” You tilted your head backwards and sighed into his neck.“I—I need you to fuck me. Please—I just want to feel you inside me.” 

Draco let out a small chuckle at the directness of your words.

If someone had told him that the same girl that tried to hex him so many times in the past would be saying that to him, he would have told them to get themselves checked at st. Mungos. 

“Relax Darling. I’ll take take of you.” He murmured before trailing his lips down your neck and towards your shoulder placing mellow and relaxed kisses all the way. 

“Draco please.” You whined, grinding your hips harder—desperate tears threatening to leak out of your eyes when you felt his hand on your hip, slowing you down. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He whispered encouragingly into your ear as you let his hands guide you—moving your hips in excruciatingly slow circles against him while he resumed kissing your neck and bare shoulders. 

“Atta girl. Yes that’s it. Keep doing that.” 

His kisses were a stark contrast to his lustful, ravenous and angry kisses from the previous night and the kisses only left you craving even more.

“Please Draco—Fuck me. Please just fuck me.” 

“Look at you, begging for it.” He said in a hoarse whisper as the tip of his cock made contact with your already soaking wet folds and all you could do was let out a muffled moan into your pillow. 

The tip of his cock only slipped halfway inside of you before he pulled out again, teasing.

“You’re dripping wet.” 

“Draco..” you whined.

“Tell me darling, who made your pussy this wet?” 

“You did. Draco Lucius Malfoy—Only you.” 

He loved hearing you beg, he loved it only second to the way you said moaned his name and so he finally entered you allowing his cock to completely stretch you out and fill you up. 

With his perfect teeth bared, Draco peppered kisses onto your shoulders, nibbling gently as he rocked his hips at a slow but steady pace—all the while mumbling sweet nothings into your skin about how well you took him, and how good he felt being inside of you.

The way his skilled hands tugged, twisted and pinched your nipples made you feel an other worldly sort of pleasure—causing you to whimper and moan his name,moving your own hips, trying to feel him deeper inside your walls.

“Shhhh—easy there.” He whispered against your neck. “Just let go.. Focus on feeling every inch of me buried deep inside your pretty little cunt. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded and stopped moving your hips and used  one of your arms to hold onto his neck as you relaxed into him. 

“That’s it y/n, Just like that.” He coaxed, running his hand up and down your body before firmly resting on your hip as he fucked you nice and slow. 

There was something different and unexpected about his thrusts, something strange and foreign about the way he used his thumb to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit.

“You feel so good y/n. Your pussy feels so amazing.” 

Your moans muddled into one and his movements rocked the bed as he made love to you, pushing you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Fuck—Im so close.” You moaned, burying your head deep into the pillow as Draco picked up his pace pushing his cock in harder and deeper with each thrust. 

“Oh fuck. yes Draco..yes.” You moaned as he dug his nails onto your hips forming crescent shaped indentations as he pushed himself deeper, hitting just the right spot over and over again, making your walls clench up. 

“Draco…” 

“Cum for me, Angel. Cum with me.” He groaned,making both of you ride out our highs till his warm seed spurted deep inside of you. 

When he pulled out of you, some of the warm liquid had already managed to seep out of you and trickle down your inner thigh.  

After taking a brief second to catch his breath, Draco shifted lower into the bed till he was in just in between your legs. 

“I could get used to waking up like this.” He smirked looking up at you. His platinum blonde hair was slightly wavy and kind of fluffy, falling on his forehead but not yet covering his stormy greys. 

“Like what?” You teased. 

“Don't play with me y/l.n.” He warned with a wicked gleam making the grey hues in his eyes brighten into a brilliant. It felt like his eyes changed colors from blue to grey according to his moods. 

“I could get used to waking up like this too.” You said softly as he tried to push back everything that had managed to trickle out. 

Right before Draco could even reply, his door creaked open. 

“Malfoy, Astoria is waiting for you in the common roo—fuck not this again.” Blaise groaned as you pulled the sheets over your body. 

Friday

On your last evening at school before Christmas break, you found yourself perched on the windosill, nestled in between Draco’s arms and limbs in the classroom that started it all.

The pad of his right thumb traced slow, almost lazy circles on your hand while he held his cigarette in his left hand. 

The lit tip of his cigarette was the same shade as the sunset in the tangerine sky and you took deep breaths to try and soak him and the smoke rings that escaped his lips up because you weren't sure if you’d get to be with him again. 

“What are you doing y/l/n?” He asked when he noticed you breathing in and out. 

“Nothing.” 

“Please.” Draco chuckled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” you asked, turning your head to look at him—the way the last rays of the setting sun caught up on his eyelashes only making you fall harder than you already had.

“This look y/n.” He kinked his eyebrows and tried to mimic your expression. “This is the look you have on your face wherever you are up to something—like  when you try and fix your failed potion in Potions class. Actually, you even make this face when you mix sugar into your tea.” 

“Im just—” You clicked your tongue in frustration. “I’m just going to miss this, I guess.” 

Your words made his expressions soften because he understood. 

How could he have not?

He had spent the whole of last night watching you sleep—the way your chest was rising and falling, the way your heart was beating against his.

He had spent the last hour trying to store the scent of your fruity shampoo deep inside his memory banks because he wasn’t sure if there would be a next time. 

“Let’s stay back at Hogwarts”  He mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “It’ll just be us, it will be good.”

“If only.” You sighed as you rested the back of your head at the crook of his neck. “But I have to go back home and explain the whole situation with Adrian and you…” 

Both of you went silent for a bit. 

“Give me your hand y/n.” He finally broke the silence as you turned around and  looked at him quizzically. “I want to give you something.”

You turned your body around so you could face him better. The strong winter breeze blew his hair towards his eyes, making you want to reach up and push those stray hairs away. Instead, you simply placed your hand on his. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You rolled my eyes at him before squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Are they closed?” 

You nodded and you felt him slip something onto your finger and you quickly  opened one eye to take a peek and It didn't even take you a second to realize he had slipped an emerald ring from onto your finger.

“Draco. I really don’t think this is a good idea.” 

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes shut.” He snapped. 

“But I can’t take this.” 

“I owed you a ring y/n.” He said holding your hand in his to look at the ring on your finger making a type of warmth spread over your entire body. “Keep it till I get the other ring made.” 

You simply stared at the ring unable to form words with your mouth until you felt him shift beside you as he got back up to his feet. 

“Don’t overthink it y/n—I’ll see you at the ball.” 

You hummed as you quietly watched him walk away from you, ignoring the stab your felt in your heart with every step he took. But before you could process your emotions fully, Draco turned on his heel and walked towards you— instantly cupping your face in his hands. 

“Draco what are-”

His lips ardently crushed yours before you could even finish your sentence

There was an abrupt kind of finality in the way he moved his lips against yours. It was like he was kissing you for the last time . 

“I’ll be thinking of you y/l/n.” 

To be continued..

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

Part 5 teaser:

Draco’s features softened as he slowly shifted and got up from the reading nook in his bedroom to fully open his window.

You shielded yourself as cold drops of rain started to hit your face. “What in the actual fuck?”

“Shut up and follow me.” He said as he climbed out of the window and onto the ledge.

“Are you mental?”

“Just do as I say.” He said helping you onto the ledge.

Both of you laughed hysterically as the rain seeped through our clothes as you sat on the ledge with you bare feet dangling in the air.

One wrong move and both of you could fall to your respective deaths. But there came an adrenaline rush with the risk of it all.

___________________________

WOS Tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @lieswithoutfairytales @dracomalfoys-wh0re @hannahhobnob @sycathorn-slush @mxl-foyrecs @daringvixon @linetteyde @imbadwithunsernames @dracoswhore007 @myunngi @goawayimreadingbeach @loxbbg @icedlattewithalmondmilk @paulina1998 @fa-me @loganrwebb @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @leaveittobecca @dummythiccwitch @desiredmalfoy @badslytherin @dlmmdl @trainintersection @lilsubbyx @lunar0se10 @babydraco04 @anythings-n-everythings I adore y’all sm<3

You can join my tag list here or simply message me.

My other posts can be found here.

WOS Masterlist can be found here.

Love,

V

[ateezinmymind]

my brother’s best friend (part 1)

word count: 4k

fluff, slight angst??

(series masterlist)

tag list: @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @reeateez @multidreams-and-desires

Jung Wooyoung, the boy who was irresistible, but off limits. Jung Wooyoung, the boy who just had to be your brother’s best friend…

“Y/n!”

Snapping your eyes out of the reoccurring unsettling thoughts, remembering you're still in the 1st hour. You guess the bell already rang, seeing everyone had their bodies turned in the teachers direction.

The class murmuring amongst themselves, the small episodes of laughter and whispers.

“You didn’t even hear!” Gripping your shoulder and shaking it around, you roll your head towards the boy sitting next to you. “The announcements said there’s going to be a school bonfire this Friday!! Aren’t you excited?” Not getting the ecstatic reaction he was hoping for, scoffing out Wooyoung leaned back into his desk.

Looking down at the ground you searched for a reasonable excuse to tell the guy you’ve been dreaming about, you weren’t going.

“y’know.. Woo I don’t think that’s really my scene“ bringing your gaze into his unamused eyes you continue without confidence, “a-and you know it.”

Flicking the loose bangs that fell to his eyes, Wooyoung looks at you with disappointment. “That doesn’t mean you can’t change.” Leaning forward in his desk once more, taking his chin to his hands, closing his eyes he whispers out “you don’t have to stay hidden away from the fun”

———

Why was he so committed to bringing you out of your comfort zone? It’s not like he actually enjoys being in your presence. He and your brother have always been picky about the terms of you hanging out with them. Yeosang loves you of course, like any brother would, it was indescribable and obvious. But once he graduated high school, last year. He had told Wooyoung to keep his intended boundaries from you and not spend as much time with you when he came over. But even during Yeosang’s senior year, you and Wooyoung actually came to become close friends.

October, 29th << Junior year

“Get off! Get off! I can’t breathe!” Spitting out fits of giggles and snorts, Wooyoung laid sprawled out on top of you. “No! I can’t, I’m sorry y/n.” giving a wiggle seeking comfort “you stole my spot.”

It was true. You did steal his seat on the couch. It was so tempting to lay your head down when he got up to use the restroom.

The three of you were having a scary movie marathon, which meant lots of snacks, blankets and jump scares. When the first movie ended you hadn’t realized you had clung to Wooyoung’s side until Yeosang gave a cold glare and a questioning “what the fuck?” And from there, was when Woo got the sudden urge to get out of the brewing situation by going to use the bathroom.

Rolling your eyes, giving out a huff, you lay yourself along the sofa. “Why are you acting like that Yeosang??” lifting himself up off the recliner he goes to put in the next movie, slumping down and ejecting the disk he quips out, “like what?” Giving out a small chuckle from annoyance, you stick your tongue out to the back of his head. “Like you’re going to have me banned from my own existence”

Closing the case, Yeosang turns around and tilts his head to the side. Plastering you a look of disgust, “I’m sorry, but I just witnessed my sister boggling my best friend. To which I might add, is off the table”

Lifting your head up and forcing it back down, you continuously hit it over the sounds of your groans. There was no wrong intention of being friendly and quite frankly seeking comfort from the scary movie, it was stupid. Right as Yeosang gets up off the floor and heads to the kitchen to refill his bowl of popcorn, Wooyoung comes out of the bathroom. In perfect timing.

“You little-“ he blurts, running towards you as evil giggles ignite within him as he plunges his hands on your shoulders. Rocking you up and down as he makes his way on top of your flat frame.

Hearing laughter and squeals come from the living room, Yeosang puts his phone down and peeks into the area. Observing the way your face is flushed, and how you’re literally being all up in Wooyoung‘s damn business, made his blood boil. Stomping back to the kitchen, the beeping of the microwave feeding his flaming fire of rage, gets feverishly opened and as he takes the popcorn out of its bag and into the bowl. He makes sure to slam it shut unnecessarily hard.

“Dude get off my fucking sister, that’s gross.” As silence blanketed the room, the tension before significantly increased. “Chill, we were just messing around-“ Wooyoung says almost defensively.

Propping your elbows up, swiping a hand over your forehead, moving the messed up hair. You look up at Wooyoung, who’s jaw clenches and unclenches, as the veins in his neck become prominent.

Tapping his arm as a gesture for him to release you from his trap, the awkward silence feeds your urge to leave this situation completely. “Please get up Woo” you practically plead out. So he does, he releases his hands on your waist and gives you a light apology. “Sorry-“

“Thanks.” Yeosang spits out. “Now we can continue on to the next movie…” looking over at you getting off the couch, he gives one last blow, “the reason why you’re even here.”

Your eyes become blurry with tears, from both embarrassment and the sudden anger rising within. Now standing, you quickly fold the blanket you were wrapped in just seconds before. Draping it over the cushion, you look at Yeosang who snidely smirks in satisfaction at the television. Then to Wooyoung who portrays himself in a stiff manner. His arms folded over his chest, left leg bouncing quickly, and wearing an expressionless face.

Quickly looking down to the floor, you make your way across the room and to the bottom of the stairs. Trying not to embarrass yourself any more, you try and sound the least bit affected by your feelings. “Goodnight. Thank you for letting me hang out-” leaving the boys to continue watching by themselves.

Making your way up to enclose yourself in your room, face hot and limbs jittery. Why did Yeosang have to humiliate you in such ways, you knew Wooyoung didn’t mean anything by it. Of course that’s not the same way you feel about him, because who wouldn’t have some intimate feelings for him. He was a charmer, and hell he knew it. Wooyoung never bent out of shape about it though, he had times of modesty and respect, especially when he was trying to get on someone’s good side.

There was that one week where he spent his entire day, everyday to help out with the junior class decorations for the school spirit competition. You’d never seen him so motivated before that, it still makes you chuckle to this day. He’s always yearning for affection, though he can be seen to come off as a cold hearted person, Wooyoung wants to please the people around him. He doesn’t like having enemies or people who look down on him, and he won’t risk his reputation of being ‘everyone’s friend’. It’s in his nature to be a comforting presence, and that's why you think you’re so fond of him.

Opening the door to your bedroom, getting welcomed by your favorite scent from the lit candle by the window, you let out a long sigh of exasperation. At least this was the longest you’ve got to hang with them yet. You could see this as a plus, though because this outburst had to happen today.. right when Halloween is around the corner. Your once exciting ideas flew out the window while insecurities sank their teeth in.

It was a stupid idea to begin with, of course you shouldn’t hang out with him, he wasn’t your friend. It’s not like you befriended him first, even though he’s been your classmate since the beginning of this school year, your junior year, you drew an interest in him when he made his way to introduce himself. He had been so funny, making the whole class laugh out from this one awfully corny joke.

Wooyoung being the new student was like a fresh start to a better experience. He wanted to put his past behind him, and change his former and darker days.

In all honesty Wooyoung didn’t share a lot about his life, which is interesting to consider— for he’s so determined to be a safe place for everyone else. You were clueless about how his life besides your home and school goes down. It’s not that you were suspicious about him hiding something, but if he in fact was even the slimmest bit of your friend, you’d want him to open up too.

Walking over to your nightstand, turning on the warm lit lamp you sit on the end of the bed and flop down on your back. “Thank you for letting me hang out??” Slapping your forehead, you give a cry of humiliation, “why did I say that-“ you shouldn’t have to have permission to be friendly with your brother, and frankly his friends! Why was Yeosang so picky when it came to Wooyoung but not the others?? You’ve had your times of fun with Seonghwa, why was he so different?? It made you angry to say the least.

The other boys came over a lot more before Wooyoung showed up. Mingi and Seonghwa showed you a side you’ve missed with Yeosang.. they brought him comfort and genuine smiles and hospitality. They didn’t hold a grudge on each other, they didn’t keep secrets, and he actually liked to talk about them in your presence. This year changed how things were..Mingi left schools when Wooyoung came, and Yeosang stopped hanging out with Seonghwa. Obviously it was a sensitive topic, but that only intrigued you more.

Getting up, quickly making your way to the bathroom, trying not to wake yourself up before you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You take care of your nightly routine of washing your face, brushing your teeth, etcetera. Hearing Wooyoung give a quick and loud commentary about the typical people in scary movies from down stairs, you rub your eyes with exhaustion. Today drained you, and in order for this Halloween weekend to be a success, there needs to be some time to sleep. Blowing out your candle, and then turning off your lamp, you hop into the warmth of your bed, and fall into a slumber.

October, 30th << Junior year

“KANG YEOSANG YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” opening your eyes, the screaming voice of Wooyoung does its job of erupting ears, and it makes you roll out of bed. Groaning with annoyance, once again make your way to the bathroom to wash up.

Going to your closet, picking out an outfit for the day you choose some casual leggings with a t-shirt. Another scream from outside your door makes you think of all the possibilities causing it could be. It’s only 9 in the morning and already they’ve woken the house.

Walking across the hall to your brothers room, you give a quick knock. “Yeosang??” you ask, but you’re only met with giggles and then a smack, ending in a “OUCH!” assuming it’s from Wooyoung, given his standards.

Turning the handle, you peek through the door to see your brother and his friend sitting on the floor, faces lit with blue in the dark room, and nudging each other repeatedly. They’re absolutely unfazed, and had no clue the door even opened. You roll your eyes, at the fact they woke you up with video games..typical—

“Hey!” getting their attention, they swivel their heads over to you immediately. In all honesty you didn’t even think they’d hear you, so a bit flustered about how much attention you had made you just laugh. “Do you guys want breakfast?” softly saying, and all they do is turn back to the screen and give a sigh of relief and a happy “YES PLEASE!” making you gently close the door and head your way down the stairs.

“Good morning mom!” stepping into the kitchen you sing out to where she is sitting at the table reading a book and sipping on coffee. Looking up at you, and giving a bright smile, she gets up and greets you in a morning hug and kiss, “Good morning my sweet y/n, how did you sleep?”

Giving a light chuckle and soft smile back, you separate yourself from her body and turn to the fridge. “It was fine...actually pretty nice. Since I didn’t stay up as long as the boys-“ then turning to playfully give your mom another roll of your eyes and finish saying, “but they DID wake me up!” making her laugh out loud, she sits back down and picks up her book and sighs out- but joyfully, “Yep, I heard” craning your head back to look at her face, you see she wasn’t mad, just wearing a smile sweetly.

There’s times where you think your mom needs help, with dad rarely being around because of work, you never find her complaining. She is strong, practically caring for three children, because Wooyoung is welcomed whenever he wants. It’s a problem, but it’s become a habit or probably more a lifestyle.

Taking out the carton of eggs, some bacon and fruit you start on breakfast. You thought just something simple would do.. there’s no need to go all out. Your mom kept trying to help you out, but everytime you insisted she’d relax instead.

After finally cutting and washing the various fruits and filling the plates of food, you give your mom her meal first. Setting it in front of her reading state, you kiss her cheek “here you are! I’ll go get the boys” you say and turn to set your way up the staircase.

Skipping two steps at a time, you reach the top and strut to your brothers room. Hearing the muffled conversation, knowing you shouldn't invade either of their privacy, curiosity took its turn in you. No more screams or fits of laughter spilled out through the crack, only the low inaudible stammers.

Softly placing your hand on the door frame, leaning your head in for better comprehension, the conversation clears up and becomes coherent. Not even needing to be in the room, you know there's tension going on. “But that's a whole different story Woo, I didn't feel that way with Seonghwa..it was just d-different.” you had no idea what was going down, why was Yeosang talking about Seonghwa? “sure, I get that. But i just don't understand why you are always so weird about me wanting to acknowledge your sister..you get such a temper when she's around.” then there was a long pause, hearing someone shuffling about, sounding like they're on the bed, the interesting conversation continued but a little quieter. “Wait..Wait!” hearing giggles come around, the grip on the door frame tightens, your whole body on edge for more information. Both of them erupting in a small fit of laughter, “so it was Seonghwa!! That’s why!!” you hear Yesang trying to rebuttal but unable through his annoyed groaning and small chuckles.

So this was all about something Seonghwa did? Or is it something you missed, having really no clue what this is about, you straighten your body away from your brother's private talk. You hear the muffled sounds of them again as you head to the stairs. Your mind thinks of a billion ways to connect something. Leaving them be, you turn to give a shout for breakfast once you reach the steps again. And with what little you knew, you never got the chance to figure out their meaning in that exclusive talk.

———

The morning quickly turned to evening, the day spent uselessly. Yeosang and Wooyoung ended up going out after you fed them, something to do with their “weekend plans”, whatever that meant. So you wasted time cleaning and being of help to your mom. When the boys came back, you all had dinner together and then Wooyoung went home. You weren’t even sure what this certain tension going on was about, and how Halloween hadn’t even been brought up at all. It was almost awkward, and uncomfortable to try and possibly bring up.

After you washed the dishes and wiped the counters clean, you made your way to your room for the night. Passing Yeosang’s closed room, you hear his video game playing making your body involuntarily knock on his door.

“Come in!” he shouts over the sounds. Entering in with his invitation, once Yeosang sees it’s you he pauses and softly smiles up to you. There he was, that was your brother. The sweet brother whom you love dearly, and whom loves you— even when it’s hard to tell. The brother who has always been there for you, your other half. Well that was the true him, at least how it used to be before.

“Hey yeo yeo— can I sit with you?” you feel yourself cheering back to his sweet expression. Earning a pat next to himself on the bed, you skitter forward and crawl to him. “You okay?” he gently says, throwing his controller to the side.

Nodding your head, you reach for his hand. Taking it in yours, you give him a reassuring squeeze and giggle. “Yeah, yeah~ I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” you say lowering your voice to almost a whisper. Actually really not sure what you were saying sorry for exactly, but in all this mishap you find yourself being the one the blame. Lacing his fingers with yours, Yeosang perks his head to the side and lightly sighs. “Y/n, please don’t..” he starts with a comforting tone, taking his other hand to tap your knee. “No apologizing, it’s over and it was stupid” he scoffs. “Okay and also— you didn’t miss much” he picks up his controller again after giving your hand one last grip “it was so predictable and not even scary-“

Finding his amusement enlightening, you give a laugh and slide your legs off the side of the bed. “Well, fine. But I love you Yeosang..” you say getting up, and turning to look at him lightly.

“And I love you dork, but let’s not get too sappy now okay?” he chuckles. “I gotta beat this game real quick so you can join in~”

And that’s what the both of you did that night, played video games, proving each other wrong, having little arguments, the tiniest bit of pushing and pinching but overall bonding again. The night couldn’t go on forever sadly though, it had to end at some point. Sharing laughs and love, everything seemed perfect.. that this would be your brother always.

But did he really mean it?

———

<< present day

That weekend had always left you wondering what you did wrong. The day after your evening games with Yeosang, he didn’t end up going out for Halloween. Wooyoung didn’t show up, it was interesting to say the least.. but there wasn’t really anything you could do.

After the bell rang, students flooded the hallways, the chatter rang through the building and you packed your things by your locker. School went by surprisingly quick, and throughout it all Wooyoung had pressured you further to go to the bonfire this weekend. His reasonings didn't really make you want to go, you didn't really feel the need to. It would be a night full of your annoying classmates, the screeches and shouts of people doing something unabiding of their safety, and the only friend you would be with was Wooyoung.

Closing your locker you feel your phone start buzzing in your pocket.

Before getting it out to answer you see Wooyoung at the end of the hallway leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. Maybe he was waiting for you? He had said that he was going to stay after school for a test he missed. Because he didn’t show up at all last week, and came back like it was nothing, saying he got sick.

As you continue to walk to the lobby you answer the call not paying attention to the ID, “hello?”

“Y/n, hurry up I’m waiting..” the male voice sounded so familiar, you sped up quickly waving bye to Woo as he pushed off the wall seeming like he wanted to talk. “Wait.. who is this?” turning the corner you see Seonghwa standing there, wearing a smile

“it’s me..”

part 2

[hb-writes]

Gestures of Fairness

Summary: Set in 1927 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Thomas Shelby isn’t ticklish, at least that’s what a few decades of Clara’s intel says. Charles and Clara test the theory of his god-like ability to remain stoic in the face of writhing fingers. 

Inspired by this request: I am not sure if you would write this but I thought of something pretty adorable. Clara finding Tommy’s ticklish spot. Ugh. I can just imagine how adorable 🤣🤣🤣

Featuring: Tommy, Charles, and Clara (Shelby sister)

Charles’s breath tickled Clara’s ear and neck, his small hands clasped around her neck as he told her his secrets, warm puffs of air accompanying his confiding words. Their ragged breathing, interspersed with bouts of snickering, had filled the walls of Tommy’s office for only a few minutes, Charlie having chased his aunt there before they both tumbled to the carpets, immersed in a tickling struggle so immersive not even Tommy’s more irritable of glances or throat clearing could bring a stop to it. 

 “But daddy’s not ticklish, Charlie,” Clara offered, her voice a bit hushed though not quite a whisper as she looked into her nephew's mischievous eyes. 

She rested her head back into the carpet, tilting her head to see her brother as her nephew rolled away from where he had landed half on top of her, reclining beside her on his back. 

Tommy glanced their way for only a moment now, acknowledging their presence but offering nothing more now that they'd settled. He was in the middle of something, always was, and despite his throat clearing and glaring, Tommy hadn’t sent them out, so Clara stayed there with her nephew, the two of them lounging on the carpet. 

“Every single person in this family is ticklish,” she continued, reaching under Charles’s chin as he giggled, quickly catching her hand and pushing her away. “But not your dad, as if he’s a god or something, safe from the disparaging attacks that bring mere mortals like you and me to our knees.”

Charles tilted his head back as Clara had done, looking at his father upside down from the carpet.

Charles turned back to his aunt and whispered the words, “But he’s not a god.” 

Clara snorted and observed her brother again, certain Tommy heard them though he no longer seemed to be paying their conversation any mind. 

The boy was right. Thomas Shelby, despite all the pretenses, despite the power and the glares and the titles, was not a god. But, mythical deity or not, Tommy was seemingly impervious to tickles and had not a single weak spot, a feat of seemingly divine providence considering how the rest of them fared in the same situation, and his unaffected guise certainly wasn’t from a lack of a search on the part of the other parties involved. 

Though for many years it was only Finn and Clara receiving tickles, the twins began reciprocating the attack quite early on, their pudgy toddler hands squirming in the same spots the other Shelbys used on them, in the crook of the neck and under the chin, at the sides of the torso, and deep in the underarms or across a sock-clad foot whenever they could gain access to it.

John was the first one Finn and Clara had any genuine luck with, the spot under his chin so sensitive that even their imprecise attacks brought on a bout of genuine laughter, the man entirely compelled to it while the others were simply amused by the babies and their often inexact attempts. 

Then came Ada’s demise, the twins pouncing on her together one morning while she enjoyed a late lie-in. They’d found Ada’s most ticklish spots without delay, just behind her knees, and for a long time, it took a true partnership between Finn and Clara in order to make it happen, both bodies needed to hold Ada’s thrashing body down well enough. 

It was the soles of Arthur’s feet that were his downfall, as well as the very reason why he almost never slipped his shoes off when he was at the family home on Watery Lane, but Clara had caught him twice since he moved out to the country, his sock-clad feet propped on an ottoman as he napped in a chair, starting a ruckus that had everyone but Linda in a fit of giggles, though she’d at least smiled at them, pulling Billy up and out of harm’s way, the harm being the two siblings tousling on the floor as Arthur sought out retribution for his sister's childlike crimes. 

They got Polly once, Finn’s hands grazing at the back of the woman's neck, but she’d threatened the two of them so severely and with such striking detail of what would be coming their way at a second attempt that they never even considered trying it again. 

Even Michael was ticklish, in the very same spot as his mother, actually, and before he was gone to America, Clara never tired of passing a set of cold fingers along the back of her cousin’s neck while she walked behind his desk or when he was focused on a bit of paperwork they were going through together. There was something so delightful about the shriek that came through his lips, well worth the smack that usually accompanied it, a reflexive movement of Michael’s that usually left her hand stinging well beyond the humor of the moment subsided.

Tommy’s weak spot was an enigma though because for several years he had been quite adamant that he wasn’t ticklish at all and quite adept at hiding any sort of response if he was lying. It always had been that way for as long as Clara could remember, even before the war, Tommy being passive and stoic in the face of tickles. Even Polly and Charlie and Arthur couldn’t recall if there was ever a spot where they’d even once been able to get a giggle or the hint of a smile out of him when he was small. 

Clara turned over to her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, watching her nephew as he crossed the room and climbed into his father’s lap, separating Tommy from his papers. 

“Auntie Clara says you’re not ticklish.” 

Tommy smirked, eyebrows raised as he met his sister’s eye from across the room. 

For two children who screamed and thrashed about when they were tickled, it baffled Tommy how often they engaged in the practice amongst themselves or broached the topic with people who could easily have them writhing on the floor within seconds. He supposed Clara and Charles didn’t hate it as much as they sometimes put on, even enjoying it up until a certain point so long as it stopped when requested.

“Your aunt would be correct," Tommy answered, settling back in the chair.

“But everyone’s ticklish, Dad.”

Charles had never met a person who didn’t share the affliction, though his exposure was limited to that of his family and the staff of Arrow House, but Clara hadn’t met a person with immunity to such a thing in her life either, so the sentiment held as far as she was concerned. 

“Not me,” Tommy answered. “Your aunt and uncle have tried unsuccessfully for almost two decades.”

“Can I try?” 

Clara pushed herself off the floor at Tommy’s nod, a bit impressed with the allowance. She’d figured over the years that Charles had a higher probability of getting a yes out of her brother, and she’d used that to her advantage the same way her siblings had once used her, sending Charles off to garner Tommy's permission for something whenever he was sullen rather than asking after things herself, almost certain the boy could get a yes when she’d get a no. 

“Three attempts, my boy, and then you can take your aunt out and keep her out of trouble for me until dinner, eh?” 

Clara rolled her eyes, leaning against the side of Tommy’s desk, just a pace or so away from them. “Why only allow him three if you’re not ticklish?” 

“Because I have business,” Tommy answered, nodding towards the papers scattered across his desk.

“Always with the business," Clara mused. "Always frowning at your paperwork all Sunday afternoon.” 

“That’s why we need to find where he’s ticklish, so he can laugh.” 

Clara snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrow raising just a bit. “Well said, Charlie.” 

Tommy looked about to say something but Charles jabbed his hand into the space beneath Tommy’s chin, the spot most obvious to the boy since it had always worked for him and his Aunt Clara and Uncle John, but Tommy barely responded to the intrusion, his body almost entirely still as Charles continued his assault, the boy’s hand finally dropping with a huff after a second endeavor in the same spot.

Charles then poked his fingers into Tommy’s stomach, another unsuccessful experimentation, a bewildered hum coming from Charles’s lips before the boy reached out again, this time his fingers barely grazing the side of his father’s ribs before Tommy trapped the small hand in his. 

“You’ve already had three.”

Clara narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to them. “You’re cheating, Tommy.” 

“How am I cheating?”

“Because he—”

“I only had two tries!” Charles shouted before Clara could get the words out herself.

“You went twice under the chin and once in the stomach,” Tommy answered in an even tone. "One and two is three."

“That’s not fair!” Charles pouted.

“Life often isn’t. Best to learn that now,” Tommy said as he slid Charles from his lap to the floor. “A good lesson to you both.” 

Clara knew well enough the world wasn’t fair, knew well enough that her brother wasn’t often very fair either, but her young nephew had no need of coming to expect that type of unfairness in life, and certainly not at such a young age. 

“Maybe the world isn’t always fair, but family should be,” Clara said. “You’re cheating your own son, Thomas.”

Clara saw it, she knew she did, a small tremble in Tommy’s cheek when Charles’s fingers grazed his ribs. The rest of him had stayed still, immersed in perfunctory indifference to his son’s pursuit, but Clara saw the twitch. Without the distance, without her being a casual observer, she never would have noticed such a small movement, the well-disciplined facade of her brother almost concealing it.

Tommy wasn't sure which part of her sentence he wanted to go for first. The accusation or the 'Thomas,' but in his deliberation, Clara filled the silence herself.

“And me,” she offered. “You’re ticklish. I saw.” 

Clara stepped in front of her nephew. “He touched you right—”

Tommy grasped her outstretched hand. “Enough.”

Clara pouted as she pulled her hand back. “You’re no fun.”

“I have calls to—”

The twitch was more pronounced when Clara dug her fingers into his side, the hint of a smile there on Tommy’s face as he jolted, some small noise merging a laugh and a throat clearing coming from his lips. But the moment was gone almost as quickly as it had come on because Tommy caught her, his hand firm around her wrist.

Clara recognized the message. To anyone else, it might have read as an adult telling a child they had reached their limit and were edging towards trouble, or as a gangster threatening a subordinate to fall back in line, but grasping the wrist was precisely the same gesture of fairness Clara and Charles adopted between the two of them, an irrefutable request to stop, a removal of consent for a game no longer being enjoyed, and Clara understood that her long-pretending brother was indeed ticklish, but unlike her and Charles and the others, not even a small part of him enjoyed it. 

Clara smiled at her brother though his hand still held her wrist, the tightness of his grasp uncomfortable enough she wasn't eager for it to continue for long. Though a part of Clara was giddy at finally solving over a decade's long riddle and more than a bit entranced by the idea of an encore, she’d not discredit the nearly sacrosanct vow indicated by the gesture she and Charles had developed, and she would not reinforce for the boy that he should expect the world and his family to be cruel and dishonorable at every turn. 

“Alright, Tommy. Peace, then,” Clara offered.

“But—” 

Clara glanced down at her protesting nephew, nodding towards the wrist the boy's father was still holding, Tommy's fingers slipping off Clara's wrist only as she turned to Charles and continued speaking.

“Your dad’s asked us to stop, Charlie boy. He’s got calls to do before he joins us for dinner, eh Tommy?” 

Charles moved around Clara and leaned into Tommy's knee, distracted from his aunt's lesson by the notion of his father joining them for dinner. “Are you joining us, Dad?” 

It seemed fair by Clara’s standards, that her brother should grant them that small concession since he was prematurely stopping their fun, and Tommy stared at his sister for only a short moment before nodding at the boy. “You best go on and let Frances know to set an extra place.” 

Charles sprinted off to find the woman, leaving Clara and Tommy smiling in his wake. 

“Clara, it’d be best for you to—”

“Forget I’ve finally found where you’re ticklish?” she asked, smirking as she stepped back from him. “Of course. Can’t have word getting out Thomas Shelby, OBE is a mere human like the rest of us.”

“I mean it, Clara.” 

Clara rolled her eyes. “I know, Tommy. I’ll keep it to myself.” 

Tommy took a breath, nodding once before he looked back to the papers on his desk. 

“Right, so you’re back to paperwork and calls and frowning, then?” Clara asked.

“If you and my boy are demanding my presence at dinner, then, yes.” 

Clara smiled. She’d leave him to it, and she’d not tell anyone her brother was ticklish, not even Finn as tempting as that was, but she’d not forget. She’d store the information away, kept safe until needed, until Tommy needed a subtle gesture to remind him of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of family not being fair.

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

🏷:

@beautycinders​ @buckybluebarnes (can’t tag) @cecii22me​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @marquelapage​ @midnight-dreams-23​ @mo-onstarrs​ @ohhersheybars​ @pollyrepents​ @unicorndetective22 (can’t tag)

[clefairymuke]

daydream | chapter one

next chapter

pairing: armin arlert x reader

themes: college/modern au, slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut

tw: recreational drug use, drinking, explicit sexual content

word count: 1705

The clock was obnoxiously loud with its endless ticking as you struggled to answer yet another dreaded short response prompt, your eyes threatening to trail over to the paper next to yours. You cursed your professor in your head, wondering who had the audacity to dub them "short answer" when answering every nit-picking facet of the question required at least a page-long essay to respond to the prompt in its entirety. The pen would soon break through the paper with how aggressively you were pushing it down. Against your better judgement, you allowed yourself to glance at your friend's paper. All you were able to read was the scrawled cursive "Armin Arlert" at the top before it was pulled from the table and started its journey to the professor's desk. Armin shot you a side eye as he threw his bag over his shoulder, and you returned a feigned apologetic grin. You watched as he waltzed confidently to the front of the room. Everything was so easy for him.

You sighed as he laid his paper on Professor Hange's desk and left. You knew he'd be outside waiting on the bench by the sidewalk when you finally finished; it was looking like he would be there for at least an hour. You tried to focus. What exactly had you learned so far in Biology 220? As far as you knew, the answer was absolutely nothing. After another while of pretending to think while actually berating yourself internally for your lack of studying, you did what you do best: you wrote down 200 words of absolute bullshit and hoped for a passing grade. It had put you through a year and a half of school -- you hoped it wouldn't fail you now.

It made sense for Armin to do well. After all, he was a biology major on the premed track. You, on the other hand, chose English on the form last minute in order to take the least amount of science and math possible. Learning that general education required sequences instead of singular courses had smacked you in the mouth. You erased the last word and fixed your handwriting three times before you finally decided you were finished, taking the paper up front to join Armin's and relishing in the sunlight hitting your face as you left the building.

"How'd you do?" Armin asked sweetly, perched on the nearest of many walkway-side benches along the campus. You saw a coffee in his hand. As you got closer, you noticed one for you sitting next to him. You smiled.

"I honestly think I did fucking awful. I haven't retained anything from Hange's class at all. She's not even a bad teacher -- I think it just isn't for me," you answered, taking a seat and lifting the coffee to your lips. It was your favorite.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He'd had a haircut only the day before; he always toyed with the prickly hair on the back of his neck for the first few days after one. You wondered if he'd ever get used to having his hair shorter. "I've offered to help you, you know. I always say I'll start studying with you, and you always say we will. Then I end up studying while you lay there on your phone halfway listening."

"Well, midterms are over now. Maybe I'll let you teach me a thing or two before finals. What's important is that spring break starts now." For a moment you could see yourself and Armin laid out on the beach, sun soaking into your skin with the soft crashing of waves present only a few yards away; that was the definition of heaven. You saw Armin grin as he started to pull his bag over his shoulder in preparation for your walk to his dorm. A common misconception about your friend was that he was a stick in the mud; however, this was decidedly the furthest thing from the truth. Although he was perfect academically -- 4.0 GPA, active in student organizations, one of the way-too-happy people that shows the freshmen around campus each year -- he knew how to have a good time. Perhaps it was years of corruption from you and your other friends (Eren and Jean, in particular), but outside of a god-awful science class, he was easily your favorite person to be around.

The two of you walked side by side across campus, chatting idly about the party you both planned to attend that night and the long drive that awaited you come morning. It was the perfect weather out, a sunny and comfortable 70 degrees. Armin was dressed in an old-looking T-shirt advertising some bedroom pop artist you were unfamiliar with, making it more than noticeable how much he had filled out since he bought it. Khaki shorts hung a few inches above his knees. You had to look up at him when you spoke, quite the contrast to the many years your friendship spanned before. His eyes, though, were still the same blue, and that was unlikely to change.

When you arrived at his building, you trudged up the stairs behind him, grateful you would soon be able to sit down. Walking everywhere was not your favorite activity, but the campus was quite small, and driving would be overkill. You waltzed into the room as you did nearly every day, throwing a hand up to greet Eren. He had his arm thrown lazily around a girl you didn't recognize, his half-up half-down hair falling in his face as he nodded back at you with a smile, eyes half-open and glossy red.

You practically threw yourself into Armin's bed, which was neatly made aside from the plush blue blanket that laid across the yellow duvet. You were quickly underneath it, making short work toward comfort as you nuzzled into a pillow. Armin took the time to put his things away and change into loose-fitting charcoal sweatpants before taking a seat at your side, fiddling with a time-passing puzzle game on his phone.

"I think we should just stay in instead of going to the party and taking that trip. I'm pretty comfortable, and I have plenty of sleep to catch up on," you told him, the joke barely present in your voice. He chuckled, leaning back across your legs onto the wall behind him.

"You're required to come to the party," Eren called over to you, taking his lips away from the nameless girl's neck. "We promised Jean. And you're required to come on the trip, because we can't afford the Airbnb without your charitable contribution."

"Besides," Armin chimed in, looking over at you, "you were lucky your request off got approved. Think of the poor souls that are stuck behind the register at Barnes and Noble this week. They wouldn't want you to use their vacation in vain."

"When you put it that way. . ." you laughed, checking the time on your phone. "What time did Jean tell us to come?"

"Nine," Armin responded quickly, switching from his game to Twitter. It was only 4:06, according to the white numbers above the picture of you and Armin at your high school graduation. You had quite a bit of time to kill.

"Want to watch a movie?" you asked the blond boy at your side. You were already holding the Xbox controller before he could reply. You got on Disney+, arguably your favorite part of being in Armin's dorm, then tossed the controller toward him to choose. He chose, as he always did, some superhero movie that you would pretend to hate and secretly love. He looked over at you and grinned wide, pressing play.

As the opening sequence rolled, you figured it wasn't the worst way to waste time.

---

The party was lame in the best way. Of course, no one outside of the typical circle had shown -- Connie and Sasha, Marco, the current girl hanging from Eren's hip (Ellie, maybe?), Ymir and Historia, and Eren's sister, Mikasa. Or, at least, he called her his sister. She was adopted -- and desperately in love with him -- and you wished he would avoid calling her that for the sake of saving face. Watching her sit angrily next to him while he toyed with the girl's hair was almost as awkward as the way Jean sat next to Mikasa, beer in his hand and flirting without shame. Connie, Sasha, and Ymir spent nearly the entire party trying to convince Historia and Marco to try smoking on Connie's new bong. Between all of these preoccupied people, you and Armin were left sharing a recliner, passing a blunt back and forth and discussing the plans for tomorrow.

Jean's apartment was trashed in the way a 19-year-old boy's would typically be, soda and beer cans lining the tables and clearly visible dust on his furniture. If you squinted, you'd see he was using his U.S. History textbook as a rolling tray. Professor Erwin would be disappointed.

Your thoughts had begun to become fuzzier and fuzzier. You could tell Armin was feeling the same by the way he giggled uncontrollably at a stupid joke Connie made across the room, causing you to chuckle. He was pretty when he laughed, white teeth poking past his lips as his clear blue eyes squinted into almost nothing. It didn't help that they were already half-closed, pink and red lining his blue irises. You and Armin were social smokers, and drinkers, and what came with that was the unfortunate fact that you were both very lightweight.

You listened absentmindedly to the soft R&B Jean was playing, obnoxiously enough, from Pandora on his TV. Every time an ad played, you died a little inside. You found yourself thanking those that didn't come tonight. Eventually, when you were all in some way intoxicated, you all gathered to watch a movie. You had never heard of it, but Jean and Eren were big fans, which meant it was likely some action film with a bit of plot if you squinted at it.

Before the title screen, you had your head laid on Armin's shoulder, gently drifting to sleep.

This was peace.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens one-shot - “Wrong Address” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Since Aziraphale won't let his demon come over during lockdown, Crowley decides to send him a special gift. It doesn't work out quite the way he planned...

... but that might turn out to be an unexpected blessing. (1655 words)

Read on AO3.

"Anthony J Crowley! Did you send me a care package?"

"Yes, indeedy, angel," Crowley admits, a smug smile tugging his lips up at the corners. He reclines in his throne, phone pressed to his ear, staring out his windows in the direction of his angel's shop, beaming at the smile in Aziraphale's voice.

"What a wonderful surprise! This has positively made my day! Whatever made you think of it?"

"Well, when you mentioned finding those cookbooks in your shop, you sounded so damned happy, I wanted to see if I could top it even if you won't let me come over so I can watch you eat your tasty creations... " Crowley mutters on the finish, still bitter at his angel's reluctance to bend the rules, especially since those rules shouldn't apply to them. There's no way either of them can get sick! "So when I saw this online, I thought it could be a way for me to be a part of your culinary journey."

"How very thoughtful of you," Aziraphale says apologetically. He's not trying to hurt Crowley. He would love nothing more than to have him slither over and share a crumpet or two. 

But angels assigned to Earth stations are meant to be role models. What he does, he does for appearance's sake. 

He must lead by example.

Though, to be honest, it's quite annoying being penned in like this for the good of mankind when humans can't see fit to sit on their arses for a few months until this whole virus bother blows over. 

"So... " Crowley nudges as an expectant silence falls between them, each waiting for the other's next move.

"Indeed! Don't keep me in suspense!" Aziraphale says, rubbing his palms together. "What's inside?"  

Crowley rolls his eyes. Like he's going to set up this whole surprise and then just spill the beans! "You won't know until you open it, will you?"

"Oh! You want me to open it now then? With you on the phone?"

"That's wot I was hoping. I want to hear your reaction. You know, since I can't be there and all."

"Okay. Give me a moment. I need to find a letter opener or a box cutter or... or something... " 

Crowley sinks further into his seat, closes his eyes, and makes himself comfortable. Knowing Aziraphale and his unique organizational system, this could take a while. But listening to his angel hum as he roots through his desk drawers relaxes him. Crowley finds himself drifting off, lulled by the sounds of Aziraphale simply being Aziraphale. But he can't let himself get too cozy. It would be a shame if he knocked out and missed Aziraphale digging into his gift. 

Crowley considers snapping his fingers and giving his angel a hand with the packing tape when he hears a dull pop! and a triumphant, "Success!" Unpacking noises follow - the crumpling of paper wrap being pulled apart, amplified through Crowley's phone, then a giggle that falls somewhere between nervousness and confusion. "Oh! Uh... "

Crowley sits up straight, peering into the distance as if he could see what Aziraphale sees from Mayfair if he tries hard enough. "Wot? Wot's going on?"

"I... I don't know how you intend on me making a meal with what's in this box. Or are you punishing me because I won't let you come over? That would be unnecessarily hurtful, even for a demon."

"Why?" Crowley springs up and stalks over to the glass, addressing the greying treetops below. "Wot'sss in the box?"

"Don't you know?" Aziraphale teases when he starts to suspect this as an honest mishap and not a ploy by his demon.

"Obviousssly I don't!"

"Let's sort through the contents together then, shall we?" Aziraphale reaches into the box, pulling out items one by one. "We have here a pair of silky black knickers. I think these would suit you more than me, my dear."

"You think so?" Crowley asks, annoyance replaced in an instant by intrigue over his angel's impression of him.

"Oh, yes. I think they'd be most flattering on you. And here we have something called a Ben Wa ball, some... " Aziraphale clears his throat before he owns up to the next one "... anal beads... "

Crowley snickers, more at Aziraphale's tight tone than the item itself.

"... a Do Not Disturb sign with an illustration on it that’s anything but subtle, and an object I can only describe as a gel-filled self-pleasuring device. Oh... this one needs refrigeration."

Crowley's mouth goes dry, his imagination running wild with that description, trying to conjure a vision in his head of what such a thing might look like, and where it would go, especially cold. He presses a hot palm to the glass and shivers involuntarily. "Oh my... "

"You sound surprised. Is this not what you ordered, dear?"

"No!" Crowley squeaks. Aziraphale stifles a chuckle when his voice cracks. "No, I didn't," Crowley repeats, fighting for composure while the rest of him itches to bust through the window, unfurl his wings, and fly to his angel. 

He could probably make it to him before the first splinter of glass hits the pavement.

But no. 

Boundaries. 

Aziraphale's determination to not have Crowley over is about more than protocol. Crowley knows this. Angel set up boundaries. And even though his reasons for doing so are ludicrous, Crowley needs to respect them. "Is there a company name on the box?"

"Let me check." Aziraphale mumbles as he searches the package for a name. "This end up, handle with care... here it is! Tantalize Me - the premium adult date night mystery box. Ooo! That sounds interesting! Do you think there could be a murder to sort out in all of this?"

"I don't think that's what they mean by mystery, angel," Crowley says, hearing Aziraphale dive back into the box.

"A-ha! I think I've found the problem."

"And that is... ?"

"I'm afraid this package was meant to go to another bookshop on my same block. It's entirely possible they may have my box."

"I think you learned some information about your competition that you maybe didn't want to know."

"Yes, I suppose I did."

Crowley sighs. "But now I feel like a heel."

"Why is that?"

"I promised you a meal and I didn't deliver."

"Pun intended?" Aziraphale asks with a snort. 

"Not," Crowley replies, less than amused.

"I don't think you can be blamed for a mix-up with the post, my dear."

"Bet I can... " Crowley says, thoughts shuffling back to that awful Horizon IT scandal he lazily threw together that went, unfortunately, better than he'd planned.

"There is one thing to eat in here."

"Really?" Crowley grumbles, turning away from the glass and leaning his back against it, an intense chill seeping through his clothes and into his skin, its sting matching his rapidly fouling mood. "What's that?"

"A tube of personal lubricant. And it's chocolate flavored!" Crowley's eyes widen when he hears the telltale snap of a flip-top lid opening, followed by a wet squelch. "Mmm. It's not half bad."

"Are you actually eating that?" Crowley asks breathlessly.

"Only a little. I licked it off my finger."

Crowley fumbles his phone, catching it before it crashes to the floor. "A---Aziraphale... " 

"Listen to this! It says on the label that it tingles with body heat. Isn't that interesting?"

Crowley's eyelids flutter shut and he swallows hard, his entire body becoming a solid, throbbing ache. Aziraphale doesn't have body heat. Not all that much. But as a demon, Crowley is full of Hellfire. What would it feel like to have his angel spread that lube on him, press his body against him with his skin tingling like crazy? Jesus Christ! "Aziraphale... "

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

"Nothing. Except now I think you're punishing me."

"Carl and Tish Lloyd are probably expecting their package. They must have some big plans. I should send it on its way," Aziraphale suggests with infuriating rationale. "Shouldn't I?"

"Th---that wouldn't be good form!" a desperate Crowley argues. "You've already opened it! And sampled it! You can't give it to them in that condition!"

"That is true. That wouldn't be very neighborly. But what to do with it? That's the question... " Aziraphale wonders while Crowley dies inside, a moan trapped in his throat struggling to break free every time he thinks about Aziraphale licking chocolate-flavored lube off his fingers. "Did you want to... uh... try a bit? Of the chocolate goo, I mean?"

"Are you going to ship it over?"

"I guess I could do that," Aziraphale muses. "But who's to say it will get there? What with the post office making such tragic errors. No. I think there's only one way we can ensure that you get your fair share."

Crowley's brow furrows, his brain cluttered with mixed signals. "Are you asking me... ? Can I come over?"

"I have some conditions."

"Name them," Crowley says, prepared to bolt the second Aziraphale gives him the go-ahead.

"You can come over only if you can make it here without being seen. No giving the humans irresponsible ideas. I know that's your job, but I can't be a party to that. Deal?"

"Deal." A snap of his fingers and a second later, Crowley snatches the tube of lubricant out of Aziraphale's hand. He takes Aziraphale's right wrist gingerly in his grasp, squeezes a dollop of lube on it, then licks it slowly off, amber eyes locking on his angel's blue gaze. Aziraphale's whole body shudders from a single swipe of his tongue, Crowley's tastebuds tingling on the finish. He licks his lips, depositing a thin layer of the lube, which fires across his skin like firecrackers. He sees his angel tremble, sees the white glow of lust in his eyes, and he grins. 

Crowley is about to enjoy the best meal of his life.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by me, seconded by mathmaticalknight; pitched in the tags of this)

Angelina was reclined in one of the reception desk’s office chairs - her shiftmate was out grabbing pizza for the both of them - when a flustered-looking Myrrh stopped by. “M-Miss Angelia? Could you come with me to the infirmary?”

“You don’t have to call me ‘miss,’ Myrrh, but I’ll go with you for sure.” The Vulpo floated out of her seat. “What’s the trouble?”

“It’s Miss Utage. She just got back from a mission, and...she’s refusing treatment.”

Rather than fear or nerves, the only emotion that rolled through her Miss Aiju’s mind was indignation. “As bad as last time?”

“Worse, actually.” The other Vulpo yipped as she saw the look in Angie’s eyes. “Y-you will heal her, yes?”

“Oh, I’ll fix her, alright. That stupid...” She shook her head as she zoomed down the hall, pitching gravity to and fro to accelerate her drifting and Myrrh’s steady shuffle behind her, minimizing the time between the alert and her arrival to the infirmary as much as possible.

Utage was sitting on an examination table, looking at the door; she smiled when Angelina walked in, revealing a few gaps in her teeth as she did. “Heh...Hey, Angie-”

“Don’t you ‘Hey, Angie’ me when you look like that!” The Vulpo huffed, stepping in and unzipping her purse as her escort stayed by the door. “Why won’t you let anyone else treat you when you look like this?! Myrrh, could you get me a stitch-stapler?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Gone in a flash.

The Nue’s smile was glued to her face. “You’re pretty scary when you’re angry.”

“Am I, because I’m terrified looking at you like this!” Her grasp on gravity was a bit tenuous as Miss Aiju hovered a few inches off the ground. “You look like you took Cutter to the kitchen and let her use you as a cutting board!”

“Not too far off, I guess,” she admitted as her perturbed physician set to work.

Angie sighed, shaking her head. “This is going to take so much work to fix - not just the stitch-gun, but the medigel work and sterilization too...Why? Was there really that many of them?”

“Oh, it wasn’t strength in numbers, just strength.” Utage flexed a little, gritting her teeth when that made one of her wounds gush a little. “One of those big katana dudes - the Snipers soaked him in projectiles, but I had to finish him off, and the flaming sword hits like a truck.”

“And you drove back with all these injuries from that fight?”

She shook her head - slightly, to avoid tearing something. “They were worse when they lifted me into the truck.”

“...” The Vulpo crashed back to her feet. “You could’ve been killed if they hadn’t gotten you here faster!”

“The only Medic with us was that sleepy Liberi, but I scared her off, I think,” The Nue shrugged.

Angelina ignored the fact there were two Medics who fit that description for the time being. “Why didn’t you let them treat you? They’re professional healers and researchers and physicians; I do this on the side because I studied enough to get by and they appreciate the help. Why not let someone who knows for sure what they’re doing look at you?”

“M- Angelina?” Myrrh popped her head in. “I brought you a stapler and some local anesthetic. Do you want an assistant?”

“No, I can take it from here. You’ve been a big help.” Miss Aiju took the stapler from the other Vulpo and closed and locked the door behind her as she left.

Utage raised an eyebrow. “You’re not worried about the anesthetic, are you?”

“Not even slightly.” She made sure her new tool was in working order before returning to the pre-treatment cleanup. “You seem to enjoy it, the way you let them tear you to pieces out in the field.”

“I don’t enjoy it, I’m just not worried about it. What my natural regeneration doesn’t take care of, you never have a problem fixing.” Not a single lie there, if maybe a little bit of overconfidence in her friend.

The Vulpo sighed. “That still doesn’t explain why I’m the one you want fixing you after a mission.”

“You just want me to tell you?” The Nue winced as a staple bridged a wound along her forearm. “Because you deserve the extra money.”

“...Run that by me again?”

The trendsetter looked her in the eye. “You deserve the money, and it means spending more time with you. Win-win for me.”

“If you wanted to hang out, you could just ask, Utage.” Angelina dabbed a bit of medi-gel into the injury before doing the rest of the sutures for it. “And I get paid by the visit, so you don’t have to get yourself hurt so much. Let the other doctors see you, and you’ll spend less time in here - time we can go do stuff together, if that’s really what you want to do with it. Once again, though-”

“-Angie, look at me.” As she did, Utage did her best to channel her feelings into an expression - her authentic feelings, no masks or self-deceptions.

It seemed to do the trick; Angie accidentally dropped the stapler as she realized her intent, managing to catch it with a gravity bubble before it hit the ground. “Oh...”

“Yeah.” Geez, she could’ve reacted a little more to that. That was the Nue’s whole soul right there. “Well, I guess-”

“One minute.” The Vulpo opened the door, found Ptilopsis in the lobby asleep at her desk, and floated a pencil over to drop on her head and wake her up.

The Liberi rebooted. “Systems online. Miss Aiju? How can I be of assistance?”

“I need some help with Miss Utage’s treatment.” There wasn’t a way for her to hide the color in her face. “Could you come and help me finish it?”

“Certainly. Scanners online.”

Angelina looked back at her patient. “The faster we get you out of here, the faster we go on a date.”

“You’re serious?” The trendsetter sighed in relief. “You had me so worried for a minute-”

“Don’t. Even. Finish that.” A mix of emotions Angie wouldn’t have believed possible was on full display in the look she gave the Nue.

That was the day Utage learned what ‘scaroused’ felt like...and just how perfectly it suited her.