#my dash went from being in order to back to bugging

[evermourning]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - lee minho

pairing: lee minho x reader (bewitched series part. 8)

genre: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort, slice of life

wc: 1.4k

warnings: language, mention of bugs, lowkey crack moments, if you don't know how to tie a tie delude yourself, mentions of alcohol, not proofread

a/n: and here we are! the final part to my first series. thank you so much for the love and support! i've had so much fun <3

you were embarrassingly infatuated with your boyfriend.

as your fifth text to him went delivered and not read (he was busy grocery shopping), you flopped onto the couch, sighing loudly. the house was so quiet without him here. you could hear every little sound - the rattle of the air conditioner, the creaks in the wooden floor, the lovely aria of the birds outside, the soft chatter of the streets from your perch near the window.

the cats were usually much louder, too. but now, soonie was curled into your side, a low purr emanating from him as he slept happily. the other two were nowhere to be found. if minho was here, he'd sit next to you, one long arm wrapped along your waist while his non-occupied hand gently stroked one of his cats' fur. but...he wasn't. he wasn't and you wished with all your being that he was. you didn't care he was literally ten minutes or so away and literally doing something as simple as shopping. you missed him so bad.

it was such a funny feeling to you, being in love after avoiding it for so long. you believed that you weren't going to find love, that you were falling behind your friends, but all of that changed completely when you met minho. it only took you three nights to fall in love with him. three whimsical and delightful nights, forever engraved into your memory.

night i: you were on your way back from work when you noticed something. an old lady, probably in her early eighties was taking bags and suitcases out of her car. however, she was on the smaller side and was struggling significantly. you immediately rushed over to help...but even you couldn't carry everything. embarrassing. really embarrassing.

"do you need any help?" a masculine voice asked. you turned around and fought insane urges to drop your jaw in shock. was that really the lee minho standing in front of you? after you nodded, still in some state of shock, he grabbed the boxes and bags you couldn't, and as a team you worked together, being thanked profusely by the old lady. as you were leaving, you called after him.

"you're lee know, from stray kids...right?" when he nodded, you had to do a double take. "i um, just wanna say hi. i'm a fan."

"you're a really lovely looking fan," minho replied, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks heating up. "are you in a relationship or anything like that? i don't really want to overstep your boundaries."

"oh, no. i'm not in a relationship, trust me." you shook your head frantically, mentally cursing yourself for it.

"good! then...can i take you out on a date? how about...tomorrow?" he asked, grinning. you accepted graciously, the realization that the lee minho asked you out. you felt like a giddy child for the first time in years.

that night, you did not sleep.

night ii: you sat at the table, one leg crossed over the other, frantically checking your phone to make sure you got the time right. minho was nowhere to be found, and you'd been sitting at this secluded restaurant for a good fifteen minutes. you'd already ordered yourself a drink. you figured if he was a no-show, you could get something nice before going home and getting drunk as hell.

all of a sudden, minho practically dashed in, his tie askew.

"i am so sorry, yn. my practice ran a little late, i ran over here so fucking fast you don't even know." you chuckled at his words, before motioning to his tie.

"may i? your tie being untied is making me relatively annoyed." he nodded, laughing at your comment. you leaned over and put your nimble fingers to work, tying his tie expertly and quickly. you were so goddamn close to him, you could feel his breathing just barely on your cheek. when you looked up, meeting his dark, beautiful eyes, you noticed he sported rosy cheeks.

the date was a massive success. you'd hit it off with him instantly, having both many things in common and very interesting differences. as he was walking you home, chatting amicably about something jisung had done the other day, you mustered up the courage to ask him...

"would you like to stay the night? i've got an extra room, and you're probably not too close to where you live." you looked away, flustered after that. but he reached out a hand to gently steer your face back to his.

what you saw next was forever engraved into your hippocampus.

the golden rays of the setting sun reflected in his chocolate brown eyes, like a mosaic of umber and carob with spattered flecks of california gold. the corners of his (very kissable) lips were turned upwards as he thought about your rash offer. your hair blew slightly in the chilly wind, causing you to shiver slightly. minho noticed this almost instantly, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

"let's get you inside, okay? it's really cold out here."

once you were inside your house, you handed him back his jacket, when he shook his head.

"keep it."

"what?!" you shrieked. "this is probably so expensive..."

he shrugged. "i'll just buy a new one." minho giggled at your incredulous look. "if you keep it, i'll stay here tonight.

you grabbed the jacket quickly, eliciting a roar of laughter from minho.

"then it's settled. lead me to the spare room?"

night iii: you woke up the next morning to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon, which was really weird because you lived alone. and then suddenly, you remembered there was a man in your house. opening the door with a yawn, you saw minho making breakfast, wearing your apron.

"what do you think you're doing?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. minho turned, smiling at you.

"good morning. i was a little hungry, so i was gonna make myself something small to eat, but then i thought you must be awfully hungry too." he handed you a plate, stacked with heavenly-looking food. you thanked him, sitting down and taking a bite.

"holy shit. this is the best pancake i've ever had."

minho blushed at the compliment. "you really think so, hm? try some of the bacon."

each bite you took was like ascension to the heavens as you scarfed down the food. once you were done, you started washing the plates. when minho tried to help, you swatted his hand away.

"you made me breakfast, which was just so incredibly generous of you, so i'll clean up. it's my house, anyways."

minho stayed for an hour or so longer, until he had to leave to get to his building. as you were walking him out, something moved in the corner of your peripheral vision. you screeched, hiding behind minho when you realized it was a cockroach.

"don't piss your pants, it's just a cockroach." he teased, laughing.

"i don't give a rat's ass what type of bug it is!" you said, eyes squeezed shut. "please tell me you're good at killing bugs..."

"i am, i assure you. i'm experienced." he winked, and grabbed his shoe to ruthlessly smash the poor bug into the floor.

you did not feel bad.

after he cleaned it up, you gave him a huge hug, thank yous and please do that everytimes spilling out of your mouth. he sighed, smiling with that look that made you want to go feral.

"should i just give you my number in case those scary little cockroaches come back?" he asked.

"please do."

...

that was almost a year ago. now, you and minho were happy together, this relationship marking the beginning of your healing phase. now, he was on your mind 24/7. the memory of his lips pressed against yours, how his hand just fit into yours like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. these and many more memories swirled together as if they were a chorus - each memory, the good and the bad was a different vocal part, blending seamlessly until they had created a new sensation - your burning love for your boyfriend.

you were utterly, truly lovesick.

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[rissahs]

Gashapon Machines: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Three Goddamn Stingrays

Gashapon, for the maybe two people out there who dont know, is what happens when you combine the two most addictive substances known to man: collecting tiny figurines and gambling. It's just like collecting jpegs of anime women in your Genshin Honkai Grand Order Companyknights games, except you can actually touch them and also now you have a whole bunch more shit to dust on the shelf or desk of your choice. Which makes them crack cocaine to bitches like me, who love having a useless trinket little guy to look at and also have an income disposable enough to make the odd $20 bad financial decision.

So, when my friend and I made our grand little pilgrimage to a Gashapon store today, we were fully prepared to probably spend a little more money than we initially planned to, and then have to do the Marge Simpson looking away and hiding her face while being surrounded by fried foods meme the next time a post crosses our dash begging people to not gamble ever because gambling is bad.

(gambling is bad, kids. do as I say, and not as I do)

This is a story about how gambling is funny when it happens to those who are not the person reading this.

For me, it started off great. There was a machine that had tiny statues of penguins in various stages of depression, which is how you know that any figurine you get is gonna be a winner. Mine is lying on its back and staring at the ceiling with a forlorn expression, as if contemplating where it went wrong in life. In the industry, we call this foreshadowing.

The second machine featured colourful squishy bugs painted to look like bread: Four beetles, and two ladybugs. Me, being the Silly Bug Guy, had to go for one of the beetles. Unfortunately the first roll was a ladybug I wasn't super into so I thought 'eh, why not try again', and the second attempt netted the one bread beetle I wanted the most. In the industry, we call this hubris.

I gave the ladybug to my friend because it is pink and squishy and she likes pink things and squishy things. She replies that she wants to buy one for me now to make it fair. We set our sights on another machine that is practically screaming HI RAI "RISSAHS" LASTNAME I AM RELEVANT TO YOUR INTERESTS SPECIFICALLY

Six goofy ass wooden sea creatures. One I like the most (the whale shark), three good consolation prizes (the shark, otter, and walrus), one mystery, and the stingray. Which don't get me wrong, I love me a good sea pancake, but you can't deny it is kinda missing the certain je ne sais quoi that the others have.

She scans her card to purchase a token, then passes it to me. I place the token into the machine and turn the handle.

It's a stingray.

"Oh nooo," My friend says, disheartened by the drab brown beast sitting in the capsule. "I'm gonna buy another token to get you a better one!"

"The stingray is fine! He's cute!" I reassure her, but she is already gone and back with a second token.

We try again.

A second stingray.

We have moved from the denial phase of what the hell kind of luck is this, skipped the anger phase, and have reached the bargaining phase. There are two gacha capsules left in the machine.

"I think the two stingrays are a sign" I say.

"The capsules are colour-coded for each choice, aren't they? The stingrays both came in red, and there's another red-looking one and a blue one left" She replies, peering into the machine and scrutinising it harder than a Cash Convertors employee trying to see if the jewellery they've been given contains any real diamonds.

"Oh my god it's gonna be another stingray isn't it. If I get three of them I'm gonna laugh so hard"

"But we could get the blue one. I wanna try again"

"No, I think our chances are it's gonna be a the third stingray, it's the one below the blue one..." A pause, as the devil takes the reins of my cerebrum. "But maybe it's actually a pink capsule? The colour looks slightly different, doesn't it?"

I am cautiously optimistic, yet recklessly naive. And also probably should have been wearing my glasses.

I'm content with the two stingrays, after all it is kinda funny that the odds were a 1 in 5 chance to get a duplicate and yet my luck works in mysterious ways specifically to remind me that the world is a stage and I am the comic relief.

... But it's a 50-50 shot, right? And as a great platforming mascot scrimblo once said, what could possibly go wrong?

A third token is bought by my friend. A third token is placed into the machine. The handle is turned for the third time.

...

It's a third stingray.

I crack the absolute fuck up. My friend has reached new levels of despair previously not known to man. God has cursed us for our hubris, and our only reward is three identical stingrays. A triple stack of pancakes but no ice-cream or maple syrup to sweeten the meal.

There was nothing left to do but reach the acceptance stage and move on, placing the small army of myliobatoidei into the carry bag that now had a striking resemblance to the Dashcon ballpit with our combined gashapon purchases (minus the piss).

... But not before nabbing that final capsule left in the machine, of course.

The story ends with the fourth and final capsule being that coveted whale shark, which means that after all that the moral of the story is NEVER STOP GAMBLING BAYBEEEEE REAL WINNERS NEVER QUIT #WINNING #BLESSED #NEVERPUNISHED #FUCKITWEBALL

Ahem. I mean. Be responsible or whatever. Or don't, I'm not your parental figure.

(Pictured: The demons who cursed my dick. And also the JJBA volumes my friend bought me for my birthday.)

[xrohtx-blog]

•

[f1fanatic29]

dinner dreams - daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x f1 driver!reader [3k]

summary: after receiving a delayed invitation to sebastians retirement dinner, strange feelings arise after a run in with the infamous honey badger.

warnings:none, just bad writing lmao

a/n: first time posting on here, please me kind but also would appreciate some feedback. anyways thank you and enjoy

italics---> thoughts or exaggerated words

It wasn't often you got lost. The cool November breeze that wizzed by didn't seem to help with your lack of directions either. You couldn't remember why you decided to leave the warm hotel, thinking foolishly that you would just find your way to the restaurant eventually right? Wrong. On top of that you decided to wear the most uncomfortable thing you could, a green mini cocktail dress and the skinniest heals you've brought. 

Why you'd ever except Mick's delayed  invitation to Seb's retirement dinner , you had no clue why. After just winning your second drivers championship in a row you wouldn't expect to see you getting all dressed up again even after just spending the entire week on a bender with everyone and anyone you even semi liked. The original plans before you received the delayed  invitation was to take a nice long hot bath maybe go and order some sushi on Door dash. But a final dinner with your idol and good friend was something  you knew you just couldn't miss. 

Ah fuck this, 

 as the breeze began to pick up again. About a block away from the hotel you had been staying at for the past couple days a fancy black SUV pulls up next to you with the windows rolled down.

"You don't happen to be Y/N are you?" the driver asked. Your eyebrows furrowed as you debated answering as that question doesn't often lead to good places,"depends on who's asking?"you responded, narrowing your eyes at the mysterious driver he chuckled lightly at your expression. 

"Well I was sent to come pick you up at hotel intercontiential miss, to bring you to the dinner if I've been told correctly?" he responded, you smiled awkwardly and let out a small Oh as you opened the side door and sat down in the back.

"Um I guess you would be correct, but if you don't mind me asking sir, which one of the guys hired you tonight?" you asked curiously as the car began to move down the road.

"Sorry Miss, I was told not to disclose that information to you tonight, he said that you would probably figure it out on your own anyways"

The rest of the drive went by fairly quickly for you, as you  arrived at a hotel after only a couple minutes. The SUV drove up the road a little further as you noticed from the inside of the tinted windows a unique hotel at the top of the hill. It was mostly wooden and stone built it was odd looking compared to the rest of Monaco's modern style but has a welcoming feeling towards it, it definitely was picked by Sebastian. Going underground you assumed you were going into a parking garage as the car came to a stop in front of the underground entry.

"So this is where I leave you" the driver said unlocking the doors as you then climbed out,"I guess it is, thanks again for coming to save me..."you paused wait for him to give you his name, "Clint, and it was my pleasure Y/n, I hope you enjoy your evening"he said as you smiled and gave a quick you too as you closed the doors. 

As the SUV pulled away back up to the street, you turned and made your way inside. The inside was luminated by warm lights and dark accent walls, you made your way to the elevator at the end of the hall. As you got in a small pit of anxiety made its way into your stomach as the elevator moved upwards. You wasn't quite sure why you were suddenly so nervous, you were around these guys more than your own family for christ sake. 

It still confused you on why someone hired a driver to come get pick you up tonight, and why choose for you not to know who did it. Despite it being a kind gesture it bugged you, but you set herself a special mission for the evening, find out who hired the driver.

The elevator let out a ding as the doors opened revealing the main entrance to the hotel and the restaurant that you had finally managed to get to. You stepped out into the hallway first noticing the extremely large Christmas tree an other various Christmas decoration in the restaurant that you had finally found. 

Why the hell are there decorations up already its only the middle of November?

Before you could see him, you could definitely hear him. The boisterous laugh that anyone on the grid could recognize from a mile away. His gaze then lands on you just as he rounds the corner, his already shining smile getting brighter by the second, he picks up his pace and walks straight for you. Her heart beat picks up as she finds herself smiling just as wildly back at the Honey Badger, the one and only.

"About time you got here sweet heart" he said with that iconic Aussie accent, pulling you into a close to bone crushing hug, as you laughed loudly."Danny I think we both know I'm early" it was now him time to laugh as he continued to hold you like his life depended on it.

"I missed you" 

The innocent comment made your cheeks tinge red at the sudden unexpected seriousness from the usually goofy driver. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek as you pulled away from the tight embrace."Missed you too" you said with a warm smile now seeing the slightly surprised and happy look on the drivers face as he clears his throat as he tries to brush the blush off his face

"I gotta go help Max, I'm pretty sure he got lost down in the parking area or something,  I'll be back in a minute love" he says still staring at you but making his way towards the elevator. Just as you starts to turn around he grabs your hand and pulls you back locking his gaze with yours.

"You look beautiful tonight love, incase you didn't already know" he says holding your hand and his eyes rake you body and face carefully.

"Thank you Danny, I can always count on you to bring the fun to the party" you said fixing the collar on his brightly patterned shirt, giving him a cheeky wink. He smiled planting a light kiss on the corner of your mouth, before making his way towards the elevator as you then slowly continued down the hall with a sharp blush on your face. That pit of anxiousness from earlier had been filled with a strange other feeling that rose up to your throat, a weird a feeling you hadn't felt for someone in a long time. And you couldn't help but wonder if that made you excited or terrified, either way it was rather unexpected. 

"Hey Champ, over here!" Lewis called with his arms open wide as you made your way around the corner, picking up the pace you practically jumped into your teammates arm as his silly laugh ringed over in your ear.

"Have any trouble getting here, love?" Lewis snickered

"We're you the one who sent that driver? God Lewis I should've known" you said rolling your eyes with a slight sense of disappointment."No sadly, but I know who did" he said with a snicker as you got pulled into a hug by the main man of the evening.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you could make it tonight. I'm sorry for the late invited, I just guessed you'd have other festivities going on this evening that you'd rather attend." Seb said with his classic gentle smile."Oh Seb, that's non sense there's no other place I'd rather be than here tonight. Thank you for including me, it means a lot". He just gave you a reassuring squeeze on your arm as he was pulled away by Mick to greet more of the incoming drivers. The rest of the grid slowly started to pour into the lobby, as for you, you migrated to George and Alex who were now pestering you on your new two time champion status, aka your lack of arm candy.

"Oh come on Y/N/N, just spill the beans! It's your second world championship and you're telling me you still haven't got a date to the Gala, mate I'm sorry but I don't believe a word." Alex said shaking his head in disbelief. "Mate see the writing on the wall! She's definitely got a date she just to scared to share it because it's probably some unworthy chap! Look she's even blushing Alex!"You just shook her head in response to the two Williams drivers as you hoped they would drop the un-entertaining conversation on your love life. 

Just as you began to zone out again as the two continued to bicker on if you did or didn't have a date yet, a knowing arm slide its way across your shoulder as you instantly knew who had joined the group."Ah sorry to interrupt the harassment but I just wanted to say hi to MY best friend and give HER a hug" Lando says glaring his eyes at Alex and George as the Mclaren driver pulled you into a tight embrace. 

"Hi Little Landi, how are you doing tonight." you said stepping back from the brunette."Not bad, I hope these two muppets haven't been bugging you for too long. They ever get too much just remind them they drive for Williams." he says with a smirk, you burst out laughing just seeing Alex and Georges face drop at the slightest mention of their current teams standing. 

"Ah excuse me Muppet, I'd like a moment to say hi the our two time champion here, you've had your time" Carlos said pulling Lando away and then pulling you into another hug."Wow I guess it's a hugging kinda night,  isn't it Chili" you said hugging the Smooth Operator back letting out a chuckle."Well, it's not every day you see all of us together outside of a race weekend right?" the local Monegasque quipped, pulling you into a side hug. 

"I just wanted to say congrats Y/n, you were amazing this season, really" he said smiling brightly at you. "But I will say, with the new Ferrari upgrades for next season, it won't be so easy" he said with a wink as the rest of the listening drivers groan, you let out a breathy laugh."Yeah yeah Charlie, you keep saying that from my rear view mirror, eh?" 

_______________________________________________________

"So, when are you gonna tell me what is going on between you and Daniel?" Lando whispered into your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Lando, what are you on about mate? Nothings going on with us ok. Maybe we had a small run in earlier that's it" you said trying to cover your blush as the moment earlier with the Aussie earlier replayed your head.

"Well the muppet has been making hearts eyes at you the entire time I've seen him over there with Alonso, so clearly it wasn't nothing to him." He said to her with a raised brow. You glanced up looking towards the Daniel and the Spaniard as you instantly caught his eye. Surprising to you, he didn't look away he just continued to gaze into your eyes with that infamous glowing smile.

Caught you looking, didn't I?

It was a bit of a struggle to get all 20 drivers into the private room on the second floor, as Seb has requested for the evening, but you all managed to figure it out. It was a busy moment to get everyone seated as no one could hear a thing amongst all the chatter going on. You being one of the first sat down choose a seat towards the end of the table, having already been in the middle of enough chaos for the evening you were hoping  for quieter place at the table. But also secretly pray you'd manage to be at least able to see the Aussie from your position. Turns out, you have to be careful what you wish for. 

"Enchante, mademoiselle. Uh is this seat taken?" The Australian said with a terrible mock French  accent. But non the less it making you laugh which was the entire point.

"You know I was just hoping that I would get a calm spot at the table tonight, but I guess not anymore." you said sarcastically with a smirk."Oh shoot sorry, I'll move, you probably don't wanna be hearing anymore of my blabbing, I'll-" you grabbed his hand cutting him off.

"Dan, I was just kidding, I'd love for you to sit with me." You said still holding his hand in your small grasp. He didn't reply he just looked at you in awe?  Sorta gasping like a fish out of water, cute. Snapping out of his trance he clears his throat and sits down next to you as Lando squeezes onto your other side as the rest of the grid begin to settle into their places.

The dinner went by surprisingly smoothly, despite the extraneous time it took for all the drivers to make a decision on what to order. Many different conversations poured out all across the table as there was never a dull moment. Shockingly none being racing related, as an unspoken rule of the night was to talk about anything other than work to each other since they did that enough. But rather talk about each others families, friends, Christmas plans or an other plans during their next couple of months off, it felt strange but oddly very nice. 

As Lando and Charles talked about dates that they could to some possible streaming over the winter break. Yuki, Pierre and Daniel talked about some funny memories from the past couple of season, you sat there quietly just observing the many different conversations across the table, just sorta taking in the moment.

It was strange. That these are the people that you are the most competitive within the world and here they all were sitting talking, having a meal together. The crashes, the battling, the rivalries, all left out on the track. It made you smile, the thought that all these amazing people were able to share this one in a life time dinner and that this would be the last time you'd ever be with the same 20 people, ever again.

"Hey, you doing ok? You kinda just zoned out there." Daniel asked with a worried gaze."Yeah I'm good, just taking a break from the small talk." you replied almost nervously, taking a look back around the table seeing only smiles all around.

"Do you wanna come get some air with me, it's gotten pretty hot in here." Daniel said sitting up extending his hand out to you. You nodded in response getting up from your seat, yet no one noticing the departure of you two as you walked away from the table quietly.

Walking out onto the balcony, it felt warmer than it did previously in the night. The couple flutes of champagne must have been acting as you jacket for the evening as you could being to feel a small blush on her cheeks arise from the alcohol, or maybe for other reasons. Noticing that you and Daniel were still holding hands, you pretended not to notice as you looked out at the Harbour as the moon reflected off the water. Strange nervousness washing over you. It was weird you had never felt the slightest bit nervous around Danny despite all the years you had known each other. A small shiver running down your body.

"Here love, take my jacket."He had it off his back and onto yours before you could ever protest, you let out a small thank you as you both lean on the railing, admiring the view.

"Hey I totally forgot to ask, did you get here ok? Hopefully had no problems?" Danny said with a smirk as he leaned closer to you. Pulling away slightly looking at the satisfied look on his face, you try your hardest not to start smiling at him as hard as you wanted to.

"You're such an asshole" you say halt heartedly as you punch his arm, he starts to double over laughing, his contagious laugh making you laugh as well. The two of you giggle for quite some time before finally calming down as you wiped the stray tears from your eyes.

"Why?" you asked still trying to suppress your giggles from earlier, a few slipping out."Why what?" he asked with the proud smile still on his face."Why did you hire the driver Danny?", facing your body towards him.

"Well I first kinda guess that Mick would forget to  send you the address. Second I knew if I came to pick you up, which was my initial plan, I would've torn that dress right off you in the lobby." 

You weren't quite sure how long you remained silent for, trying to process what he just said, or even trying to tell if you were dreaming or not. The feeling in your stomach that you had been feeling all night, just grew right into your heart and felt more like a bursting flame overcoming your entire body. Yet you were frozen, the man you had found attractive for years now that you had assumed was totally out of your league just said that to your face. You had no idea how to respond.

"Ah fuck I totally fucked this up didn't I? Ah God, nice going Riccardo you bloody-" your lips were on his in milliseconds cutting him right off. You didn't even think, your body just moving on instinct. 

Finally regaining his senses he began to kiss you back with just as much intensity. Pulling you snug against his chest by your waist, tilting your head to the side by your chin trying to deepen the kiss even further if possible. Grasping at the curls on the back of his head trying to keep your balance on your unsteady heals, he let out a small groan. You both pull away as your body finally had run out of oxygen. Resting both your heads on each others as you stare into each others eyes with wild smiles, panting as you both shake with excitement and passion.

"Well, its about time you kissed me" he said with that cheeky grin.

"Had to find some way to shut you up" His boisterous laugh filling the otherwise quiet November night. The regret of excepting the delayed  invitation from earlier, no where found in your mind.

-

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I will probably be doing some other fics for other drivers on here as well soon, so stay tuned for that. thank you for reading, please lmk if you have any feedback or suggestions!

[withahappyrefrain]

okokok I’ve been thinking. I’m such a slut for pregnancy reveals with peter because UGH my heart but imagine taking the test with peter in the room with you and you wait together and see the second line at the same time and-

What better way to celebrate Peter's birthday weekend by giving him the family he deserves!

Warnings: detailed talk of pregnancy, reproductive organs, language, allusion to sex. Peter being the purest of hearts but dumbest of ass.

One's thirtieth birthday was supposed to be exciting. It was a new era. A reminder that despite all the shit you went through, you made it to the other side.

Which was why you wanted to give your boyfriend the best thirtieth birthday ever. It was what Peter deserved.

But a stupid app decided against that.

Why did you even download a period tracking app in the first place? They were most likely selling your data to third party companies.

And yet, that notification that notified you that you were fourteen days late for your period woke you right up.

Fourteen days. Two weeks.

Two whole weeks since you should have bled. But you hadn't.

Why today?

The implication was so huge, so life-changing that you weren't sure you could wait until tomorrow. After all, you and Peter had reservations for dinner and it would look highly suspicious if you didn't order any wine.

Getting pregnancy tests via Door Dash was a thing now. Maybe you could convince him to stay in and-

"Bug! We gotta read- are you okay?"

Oh fuck.

You and Peter had been dating for years. Combine that with his "Spidey sense", he knew when something was wrong.

That didn't mean it would stop you from trying.

"Yeah! It's just uh....did you see who the Yankees traded?! Unbelievable, right?"

Peter looked at you, confused, "Bug, you hate baseball."

Damn it.

Peter sat down on the bed next to you. His large hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gently stroking your soft skin..

"Bug, what's wrong?" Peter's voice was soft and reassuring, which normally you loved because it made you feel as if you could tell him anything.

Right now, that's not what you wanted. You wanted him to be selfish. To focus on his own birthday. To say that whatever was going on, could wait until tomorrow.

But he wouldn't because that wasn't Peter Parker.

Nor was it Peter Parker to agree to wait to talk about tomorrow.

Which left you to muster all the courage in your body to face your boyfriend.

"I'm......Peter, I'm late." Your voice was small and you avoided those honey glazed eyes.

Peter chuckled, "Bug, if you forgot you scheduled an appointment today, it's okay."

Oh vey. For someone who graduated at the top of his class, Peter could be dense.

"Peter, I'm not late for an appointment." You motioned to the lower half of your body, praying that would be enough. The thought of saying it out loud would confirm that this wasn't a dream.

It was.

Peter's eyes widened and his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. The tension was so thick, you were pretty positive you could cut it with a knife.

"Um....are you sure? It's not, it's not that I don't believe you! You're just pretty g-good about taking your-"

Normally you were. Except for four weeks ago, when Peter had disappeared for three days and you weren't sure if he was alive. You couldn't recall if you ate two full meals during those days, much less take all your medication.

Peter came back, bloodied and bruised. Something to do with Chameleon. You didn't care what happened, as long as Peter was back and safe in your arms.

Both yours and Peter's faces heated up as you remembered how you two spent that reunion, after washing and cleaning up. It was spent in between the sheets for many hours.

"I guess....that makes sense," Peter commented, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah," was all you could say. The timing tracked, there was no denying it.

"Sh-should we....test?" Peter suggested.

"Can't you use your Spidey-sense to tell?" You asked. Peter had been able to tell your cousin was pregnant due to his ability to hear the second heartbeat. Of course, it became quite awkward at the dinner table when Peter asked how far along she was and she had yet to tell anyone else in the family.....

Peter rolled his eyes, "Bug, I can only hear a heartbeat if it's already formed. Which doesn't happen until you're like seven weeks along."

You groaned, burring your head into your hands, "We're supposed to be going on a picnic to celebrate your birthday, not going to the Bodega for Joe to silently judge us for buying a bunch of pregnancy tests."

Peter's arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into his chest. You felt even more ridiculous. Here you were, sitting in bed, whining, when it was his birthday that you were ruining.

"I told you that for my birthday, I just want to spend the day with you. This is something we need to figure out sooner rather than later. Preferably before our dinner reservation since you kinda need to know if you can drink wine or not."

Peter's lips brushed against your forehead. You nodded, though it still didn't make you feel any better.

"Hey bug, look at me." You titled your head up, your eyes meeting his.

"I still love you, no matter what," Peter said before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I'm scared," you admitted. The idea of having a child with Peter wasn't something you were against. In fact, you dreamed about it often.

But in your dreams, there was a gold ring on your left hand and you two had already brought a house.

"I'm right here with ya bug." For the next few minutes, you curled into his body, his heartbeat calming the storm of emotions you were experiencing.

"Alright, let's get this over with," you sighed.

----------

Six pregnancy tests, two bottles of water, and one very judgemental look from Joe later, you and Peter were sitting on the couch.

You checked the timer on your phone. Fifteen minutes.

In fifteen minutes, you and Peter would learn if your uterus had a twisted sense of humor or if it was preparing to carry a whole human.

"I'm sorry," your voice, wracked with guilt, broke the silence.

Peter looked up from the pregnancy test box, an eyebrow quirked, "For what?"

You sighed, "Everything. Not remembering to take the one thing that prevents this from happening. Not realizing this before or after your birthday. Not remembering-"

Peter shook his head as he moved to the couch, sitting next to you. God, you couldn't even look at him.

"And please don't say it's fine because this is definitely not how you or I planned for this scenario to go," you interjected before he could say anything.

Peter simply nodded his head, bringing a hand to lay on your back.

"Look, whatever happens....if you are...."

"Pregnant?" Saying the word felt both relieving and terrifying.

"Yes, it's.....it's your body, so it's your decision. I'll support you no matter what."

It was the first time you dared to think about your options if that little test showed two blue lines.

"What....what do you want to do?" You whispered.

Peter shook his head, "it's not up to-"

"I know Peter. But what would you like?" You could see he was deep in thought over your question.

"It's not exactly the order of events I wanted and yeah it won't be easy," a small smile appeared on his face, "But there's no one else I'd rather have kids with. I'd....I'd love to be able to call you the mother of my child."

You could feel tears swelling in your eyes. Whether it was due to the events of today, your love for Peter, or potential pregnancy hormones, it didn't matter.

"I would...I want to have a baby with you." Peter smiled before cupping your face with his hands, pressing his lips against yours.

You were still scared shitless over the high probability that you could be pregnant. But knowing, getting confirmation that you weren't going to lose Peter, that he wanted to stay and be a parent with you-

It was comforting.

Peter broke away for air, his fingers still gently stroking your cheeks, "Is.....is now a good time to tell ya that next week I planned to pick up a ring from the jeweler?"

Your eyes widened and you're pretty certain your heart skipped a beat, "Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear to God if you're only saying that because I might be-"

"I already refer to you as my wife when I talk about you to other people and you think I would only pick up a ring because you might be pregnant?"

"Really?" Your voice was small again and for the first time since you woke up this morning, your heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness, not anxiety.

"Yes, really. I love you and there's no one else I'd rather spend my life with. When I was gone for those few days.....all I could think about was you and getting back to you. Figured that was a pretty good indicator that I wanted to marry you," the tips of his ears were turning red, the action reminding you of when you kissed him on the first date.

"Well good, because there's no one else I'd rather wait thirty minutes with to see what a stick says after I peed on it," Peter joined in on your laughter, the tension and anxiety melting away for the most part.

His eyes darted to the empty pregnancy test box on the coffee table. He picked it up, reading the directions.

"Oh," you heard him mutter.

"What do you mean 'oh'?" You asked. It wasn't the 'oh' one let out after realizing they were in love. It was the 'oh' you let out when you realized you had done something wrong.

"Uh....it says results in three minutes, not thirty," Peter muttered, refusing to look you in the eyes.

"Three minutes?!" Your neighbors definitely heard that (which was probably a nice change considering they usually heard you moaning).

"How the hell do you mix up three and thirty Peter?!"

Peter threw his hands up, as if he was getting ready to physically defend himself, "I saw the three and just assumed- I don't know how long these things take! Usually it takes them like thirty minutes to figure out if you have step!"

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, because strep throat and being pregnant are so similar."

A crimson shade took over Peter's face, "Should we....should we go check?"

"No, I was just thinking we leave it there and go get ice cream," You deadpanned.

"You're lucky you might be pregnant, otherwise I'd pick you up and toss you onto the other couch." Peter responded, his tone matching yours.

You laughed and for a moment, you felt fine. Then reality sunk in. In that little bathroom, were the results that would either keep things as is, or change your life forever.

The realization set in for Peter, who began to fidget with the empty box.

"Should w-we-"

"Yeah," you stood up, holding out your hand.

The scared shitless dread still lingered over you, but when Peter grabbed your hand, a new feeling emerged.

It was cautious, but hopeful. There's still a chance this could all go to hell in a hand basket.

But there was also a chance this would turn out alright. Better than alright.

Maybe that's what being an adult felt like? You didn't know everything to do next, should a certain result occur, but, you had a starting point, enough understanding to not make you want to run away and hide.

Who knows.

You two stopped at the bathroom, the door closed so you wouldn't be tempted to run in too early.

"Whatever happens," you paused, "I love you Peter."

"I love you too bug," a mischievous gleam twinkled in his eyes, "Is this your way of telling me there's not enough room on the door and I have to push you in freezing cold water."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "They tried and it kept flipping over!"

"I have a master's in geophysics, it was possible-"

"Jack and Rose were in an incredibly traumatic situation and had entered the early stages of hypothermia! They couldn't think about physics in a time-"

"You know, one day we can show our kid that movie and they can be the tie breaker," Peter observed.

Yeah, that was something you could do.

"Though, not until they're older. They do show tits in that film," you reminded him.

He winced "Yeah.......what would be the appropriate age? I feel like middle school is too young and-"

You chuckled, "Why don't we find out first if we're having a child right now."

Peter smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, guess we should do that first."

Your eyes darted to the sink. It felt like you were deep in a haze. Was this really happening?? Was it possible that this was somehow a long, hyper-realistic dream?

The pressure you felt as Peter's hand squeezed yours signaled that was real.

"We're having a baby," you heard him whisper, his voice full of pleased wonder.

"Yeah," a smile slowly spread onto your face, "We're having a baby. Happy birthday Peter."

"Best gift I've ever gotten," was all he could get out before you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling his lips towards yours.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Insistence

Summary: Loki is being stubborn even when injured, not wanting help for fear of seeming weak. You ignore his protests and tend to him anyways.

Pairing: Loki x Field/Combat Medic!Reader

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings/Disclaimers: Mild violence. Injuries, burns. I don’t go into gory detail. Minor character death alluded to.

A/N: This one took longer than I anticipated. I wound up rewriting it midway through. The whole combat medic has been on my list of ideas for a while with only the most basic idea in my head. Once I start writing, it veered off in a different direction.

Masterlist

“I do not require your assistance, Mortal,” Loki spat, his voice lacking the venom it was usually laced with especially when you were trying to do your job.

You scoffed, gently dabbing at the tiny lacerations on his cheek. “Well, you’re getting it anyways. What kind of field medic would I be if I didn’t help everyone on the team?”

He scowled as you brushed a rogue ribbon of inky hair behind his ear so you could make sure you didn’t miss anything. In truth, this was the first time he didn’t continuously insist on pushing you away. There was always something about him not needing your treatments or someone else needing to be tended to first - Any excuse he could use to deny help. Then again, there was nowhere for him to run this time.

Either Fury’s intel had been wrong, your team’s plans had been leaked or both. The HYDRA base you all had been sent to had been overstocked in both operatives and ammunition. Even with the legacy team that accepted Loki almost half a year ago, you weren’t prepared.

Nat had been the worst, immediately being taken down when she attempted to infiltrate the base. That was when the HYDRA members started spilling out from within and around the base. With the rest of the team providing backup, Clint was able to help you lug her back to the Quinjet where you cleaned the deep gash in her side and stitched her together again. Of course, Clint wasn’t going to stand down. He stayed by the ramp, firing arrow after arrow to keep some of the heat off his companions. You wound up having to patch up his bleeding leg while he continued to fight.

Steve was the next to return. He collapsed in a seat as you reached him. Bruised and battered, he was mostly alright save for the possibility of some broken ribs. Tony crashed-landed onto the ramp, the metal of his suit screeching and scraping as he skidded inside. He was in the same boat as Steve along with his suit quickly losing power. There wasn’t much left he could do. Thor lumbered backwards into the Quinjet, Mjolnir still boomeranging out into the field to take down what enemies he could. With the God of Thunder standing guard, Clint disappeared to the cockpit.

The engines whirred to life. “Okay, guys! Jet’s primed and ready for take off. We got everyone?” Clint called out.

You took a look around, hearing the engines ready themselves. Thor cursed under his breath as he continued throwing his hammer. Where was… Oh… Oh no.

Shoving the cotton ball doused in antiseptic into Tony’s hand, you peeled away from his side and hovered near Thor. Against the bright white snow, a twister of black, green and gold ferociously danced. Loki was still out there.

“Do NOT take off yet!” you hollered back.

With a huff, you opened a hidden compartment and pulled out a sniper rifle along with its tripod. After piecing together the barrels, you attached the small tripod and settled on the floor, taking aim in Loki’s general direction. You popped off a couple rounds onto any of the HYDRA agents who dared try to catch the mischievous god off guard.

Tony shuffled to his feet, cursing when he realized just what was happening. By this time, he had removed himself from the drained Iron Man suit. “Trade places, Legolas! Reindeer Games is still out there!” He dashed to the cockpit.

You fired again, this operative having gotten too close for comfort. Loki had turned just in time to see opponent drop dead at his feet. With a near indiscernible nod that could only be seen through your scope, he carried on, slowly making his way to the Quinjet.

Despite his own injury, Clint was swiftly back at your side. With the extra backup, an exhausted Thor was able to make it off the ramp, farther into the fray and meet his brother halfway. Clint and you kept the path clear enough for them to rush back. It was stunning to see how well they could work together when they needed to.

The moment they were in reach of the ramp, you leapt to your feet and with Clint pulled the exhausted brothers on board. The ramp lifted as you tugged Loki into sitting, and the Quinjet took off. So, here you were, attempting to take care of the trickster’s wounds after having checked on Thor.

“I am a god,” he sneered half heartedly. “I will heal quickly. This is unnecessary.” He winced lightly as the antiseptic stung his cheek.

You sighed, “Any one can heal those cuts, but just because you can do so faster than the rest of us, doesn’t mean you are impervious to infections. Just less likely to get them.”

He went silent at that, either realizing you were right or just not desiring to argue further. Done with one side, you swapped to the seat on the other side of him. With a clean, freshly wetted cotton ball, you gingerly began cleaning his other cheek. All things considered, Loki didn’t look too bad. At least, not as bad as he could have. With your freehand, you coaxed him to lift his chin up so you could tend to the lacerations on his neck.

“Why?” His voice was soft, just loud enough for only you to hear him.

“Why, what?” You copied his volume level.

“Why do you insist on this?”

You stopped your ministrations, raising your gaze to look him in the eye. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he looked back at you. Though he tried to hide it, his aventurine eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“Well,” you started slowly, carefully choosing your words. “You are a member of this team, and you should be treated as such.” Fingers still ghosting his chin, you guided him to face you. “You deserve the same treatment I would give everyone else.”

His brow furrowed as he studied you cautiously. It took him a moment before he finally spoke again. “Should that be what you wish to believe, it is fine by me.” You could hear the sharpness returning to his voice.

The god turned away, leaning back in his seat with closed eyes, effectively ignoring you. Now, you could have chosen to change seats, to move away from the cold attitude clearly directed at you, but you stayed. One, you were tired like everyone else and didn’t feel like getting up. Two, you were going to be stubborn and bug him with your presence.

Eventually a calm quiet enveloped the Quinjet, seeping into your bones. Feeling your eyes droop, you settled in your seat for as much comfort as you could get before drifting off.

You imagined hours had passed by the time you woke. Your muscles ached from the position you had fallen into, your neck being the worst. Tentatively rolling your shoulder, you tried to sit up and stretch only to find you couldn’t. Your head was resting you thought was the side of your seat, but there was a light weight keeping on top keeping you from moving. You opened your eyes to a shocking sight.

No, your sleeping position was a bit different from what you thought. Your makeshift pillow happened to be Loki’s shoulder. He, in turn, had his head on yours, probably having fallen asleep shortly after you. It seemed like he was still asleep, his chest rhythmically rising and falling in a way that could be described as soft. You could only imagine the tranquil expression on his face. There was absolutely no way you were going to look. You would probably move too much and wake him, and that would be the end of this little moment.

The rest of the team was asleep, save for Thor. Even with exhaustion drenching his body, he was wide awake, grinning like a madman when he realized you had caught him watching. How long had he bared witness to the scene unfolding? With a scowl, you pressed your finger to your lips, signaling him to keep quiet. He merely nodded, that knowing smile still plastered on his face.

The call you received from Maria shocked the lingering sleep from your body. A small team had been formed to infiltrate a hostage situation - a team that included Nat, Loki, Steve and another field medic whose name you hadn’t even had the chance to remember yet. The mission had soured once they reached the hostages. Everyone was being brought back to the compound for treatment. It was all hands on deck.

Quickly shucking your pajamas, you threw on a pair of scrubs and sneakers and made a mad dash to the Med Bay. The place was pure chaos. Most of the doctors and nurses were tending to the hostages in the main rooms. The team was near the back in separate rooms.

Spotting Maria who was attempting to direct people and bring some semblance of order to the wing, you rushed over to her. “Where do you need me?”

She flipped through the files on her data pad, not even looking up to see who she was speaking to. “Everyone has a medic taking care of them except for Steve and Loki. Start there.”

“Understood,” you nodded, leaving Maria to do what else was needed.

Down the hall, you took note of the injuries you could see of the various patients. Burns… Lots of burns… What in the world happened?

Passing by Nat’s room, she seemed mostly alright. She gave you a minute bob of her head that you reciprocated before meeting up with Steve. He had burns along one side of his body. Thankfully, the treatment would be minimal compared to some of the others.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a grimace as you began your work.

“How’re you feeling?”

He huffed out a tiny laugh, “Honestly, not terrible.”

With the top half of his suit tugged down, you gingerly cleaned and added ointment to soothe the wounds. “What happened out there?”

“One of the hostages… Well… He had an explosive… Saddled up to Trevor…”

Oh… The field medic… Oh god…

Steve sucked in a breath like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “Loki tried to contain it, but… We were all a little late in reacting.”

Your hands stilled. “How bad is he?”

The super soldier plucked the salve container from your fingers. “He’ll live, but if you’re really that worried about him, I can handle the rest of this.”

“You know him.” You tried to snag the container back. “He’ll come up with any excuse to not let us help him. If he knows I left you here, he’ll insist I leave him alone.”

Steve held it away from you with his good arm like a kid holding its younger sibling’s toy out of reach. “I doubt he will do that this time,” he smiled reassuringly, a glint of knowing shining in his eyes.

Leaning on the bed, you heaved a sigh. “You’re gonna drag me in there if I refuse, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he ended with a pop. “Now get going!” He shooed you away.

“Fine,” you groaned, playfully dramatic. “But you can bet I will be back later to make sure you did everything right.”

He let loose a chuckle. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Leaving Steve to his own devices, you went to the next room down the hall. The door was shut and the privacy blinds were closed. Was Loki hurt that badly that the others had to be hidden away?

With a quick announcing knock, you steeled yourself and pushed the door open, sliding in before silently closing it again. When you turned to face Loki, you were met with something you hadn’t quite expected to see. What burns still littered his skin looked as though they were mostly healed over, but that wasn’t the problem. With his armor off, you were able to get a good look at his arms and upper torso.

Blue. His skin was blue. Ridges meticulously adorned his arms, up his chest and even his face. It was such a stark contrast to his Asgardian form, yet it still suited him well. From unmarred, alabaster skin to decorated, indigo skin. Perfection in both forms.

“Loki?” you announced your presence as softly as possible.

His face scrunched as he squinted his eyes open to find you standing beside him. “Aren’t there others that need tending to?” The hoarseness of his voice betrayed the harshness he attempted to convey.

“We’ve enough staff to manage everyone well enough,” you shook your head with a smile.

Now that you were closer, you could see he was sweating profusely. His breaths were so shallow. Brushing away a locket of hair matted to his forehead, you found his skin warm… Much warmer than it should be. Instead of recoiling immediately, you laid your palm flush with his forehead. “You are burning up!”

You pulled away to pop outside the door. Waving down a nurse, you asked him to bring in as many ice packs as he could. What was currently stored in the room would not be enough. Returning, you pulled out all of the packs. You wrapped them in some towels so they wouldn’t directly touch his skin. Then, you placed them around Loki, hoping this would be enough until the nurse got back with you.

The god rested silently while you worked. It was only when you pulled up a chair next to him to keep an eye on his vitals that he finally spoke. “Why are you still here?” A sort of vulnerability leaked out of his voice.

“Because you need help,” you deadpanned, really not wanting this argument again.

“No.” His brow furrowed with frustration, ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. “Why haven’t you run yet?”

You brushed a little more of his tresses away from his face. “And why would I do that?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the monstrosity before you?” He scowled, still refusing to look at you.

“No, I don’t.”

He barked out a laugh that he immediately regretted. “Then what, pray tell, do you see?”

Reaching across for his cheek, you guided him to face you, receiving little resistance. His skin was still hot but not quite as much as before. “I see a person who risked his own safety to protect a bunch of civilians. There’s no way you could be a monster even with your jötun form.”

“So, you do know what I am…” A deep frown etched across his face.

“Yes… If it makes you feel any better, only a select few know. I have to know the medical histories of all the Avengers if I’m to treat them in the field.”

Silence…

“And for what it’s worth, this,” your thumb graced the apple of his cheek, “is not scary in the slightest.”

His eyes searched yours frantically for any hint of dishonesty. A trembling hand raised and settled on yours, pressing it further on his face. His lips parted to speak but was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

With an apologetic smile, you slid your hand from his grasp. The nurse from before had returned with the ice packs. A quick “thank you” and you brought the tray in the room, shutting the door behind you. Just as you had before, you surrounded him with the new packs. Loki’s chest rose and fell more deeply as he cooled down even further, skin morphing into a pale sky blue and eyes returning to the bluish-green you’ve come to know.

“Well, you’re at least responding quickly. How do you feel?” You hovered at his bedside.

He locked eyes with you again, a cocktail of emotions swirling about despite his attempts to keep a straight face. “I-” he cleared his throat. “Better…”

“Good, good…” Your hands fiddled with the sheets. “Is there anything you need?”

Loki’s lips pursed, and he swallowed thickly. His digits brushed against yours, halting your nervous tick. “Stay?”

“Of course,” you breathed.

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards as you glided your fingers into his palm like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, giving his hand a light squeeze. You pulled your seat closer and sat back down.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Loki raised your hand to his face. His lips grazed over your knuckles as he whispered, “Thank you…”

“Anytime.” And you meant it. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

He let your entwined hands float back down to the bed as he chuckled. “If that’s the case, I do hope you are well prepared.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirked. “And just how long do you plan on keeping me around?”

“For as long as you will have me.”

Little did either of you know, Thor had come to the Med Bay to check on Loki after he heard the news and was listening to the conversation through the closed door. He decided to leave you be for now. The congratulations and light teasing could wait until tomorrow.

Tag List: @nahthanks​

[luimagines]

Date Day! Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2 will include Four, Time and Wind!

Content under the cut!

Four

Four watched you stress around the kitchen, trying to throw together a bug enough meal for the ten of you before dinner time.

Wild had offered to help but then was promptly dragged away by Warrior and Hyrule then they were going to go explore the market and nearby stables.

Four wasn’t even sure Wild had finished offering before his attention was on them and he went with the other two.

It annoyed Four to no end but he held his tongue.

You sighed and took as much food that you had on hand to begin peeling and cutting.

Four frowned before stepping away and into the living room. It was just the two of you at the moment, which was mostly likely done on purpose by the group if Four was being honest with himself. He would have been more inclined to enjoy the moment he was able to spend with you if you weren’t left to pick up the slack they had also dropped on you. 

Four looked around for a moment before he found what he was looking for.

You on the other hand were trapped inside your own head trying to think of something to cook and how to make enough of it for everyone.

You chopped up as many carrots as your cutting board could hold before you dumped it into the pot you had heating up next to you.

“Need help?” Four spoke from behind you and you sighed.

“Yeah, that would great.” You smile, turning around. “Sorry I want to spend the day with-.... you...”

Your smile falls.

Before stands the colors in all their glory, each with their hands at the ready to be at your command in order to get the food ready in time.

You blush and smile again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We wanted to.” They say at the same time and you couldn’t help the fluttery helping your heart gives off at the thought of being able to spend time with him anyway.

“In that case.” You grin and point to the sink. “Wash up and help me cut the vegetables please.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Time

You had managed to finally get all the boys off on some activity or wild goose chase to get them all out of your house for at least an hour or two.

You shut the door and collapsed beside it with a sigh and rested your head against the wall for a moment.

A few seconds later you feel two strong and well toned arms wrap around your mid section as a chest rests against your back. “You alright?”

You hum and removes yourself from the wall, choosing instead to rest against the body of your lover behind you. “I’m alright Link, just a bit tired is all.”

Time hums as well and places a few sweet kisses on your neck where he can reach. “The boys?”

“Gone.” You sigh in bliss and reach up to play with the small amount of Time’s hair you can reach from your angle. “I had them run my errands for the day. We have to house to ourselves.”

Time chuckles darkly in your ear. “You planned this.”

“It my house, of course I did.” You snort and pull away from Time just enough to turn yourself around and wrap your arms around his neck., continuously playing with the baby hairs at the base. “Spend time with me?”

Time grinned and leans over to press his nose against yours. “Do you have any particular idea of what we can do?”

“You, me and my bed.”

Time coughs and hides his face against the crook of your neck.

“And then we nap.” You finish confidently with a cheeky smile on your face.

Time laughs.

“I mean it!”

“I’m sure you do.” He says and hides part of his face with a hand but he’s smiling and blushing. “But yeah, a nap sounds great right now.”

“Nap time!” You beam and break away, dragging him further into your house.

A moment away from the boys is the perfect moment to unwind and relax a little.

And what better way to do it than to sleep within the arms of your beloved?

Wind

You run through the forest as fast as your feet can carry you and hop over the various roots, fallen trees and rocks that threaten to lower your speed and above all else you obey the golden rule- never look behind you.

You gulps down a breath and take a sharp turn, hoping to lose your pursuer.

You’re tackled and scream as you fall, instantly wrapping your arms around yourself to protect.

Your attacker is relentless and you try your hardest to push them away and escape but they’re stronger than you.

Fingers push and wiggle all over your stomach and your side and soon you’re left gasping for breath as your laughs fill the forest silence.

“Ok, you win! You win!” You scream. “Wind! Nohohoho! Stop!”

“Say it.” He grins evilly.

He pauses just enough for you to somewhat catch your breath and you sit up somewhat, look him in the eye and say, “Never.”

“Your choice then.” He shrugs and continues the attack.

Your laughter comes back ten fold and you’re once again too weak to even push his hands away.

“What on earth are you two doing? Are you trying to attract the monsters nearby?” Warrior walks over to you two and places his hands on his hips.

You gulp and reach your hand out. “Warrior help! Wind is attacking me!”

He sighs but takes your hand. “You should have known better than to trust the pirate.”

“They must face their punishment fair and square.” Wind says unapologetically. “I offered them mercy and they denied.”

“Offered me mercy at the cost of my dignity.” You snort and dash to hide behind Warrior when Wind gets to his feet again.

Both of you have wide and blinding smiles, easily falling into the game you’ve made for yourselves.

Warrior rolls his eyes but can’t find it in himself to be mad at you two. He says your name and lifts his arm to look at you properly. “We need you. This is your home and we need to ask a few questions before we plan our next move.”

You blinks and move away from The Captain. “Oh.”

Play time is over.

You nod. “Ok Captain.” You frown a bit before turning to Wind again. “Wait for me, ok?”

“Of course.” Wind nods back and watches you leave with Warrior. When you’re out of sight he pouts fully and sits down dramatically on the forest floor with his hands against his cheeks.

Stupid Warrior, he thinks, he wanted to spend more time with you.

Part 3

[snaktooth-journalist]

Bugsnax Fanfic: Snaktooth’s Last Secret

Well here’s a Filbo/Journalist fanfic I’ve been working on off and on as a way to explain another Bugsnax theory. I have a few chapters done, but not in order. Here’s the first one in any case. Writing is not the best, but alas. As always, @snorpington-fizzlebean has been helping me with brainstorming, data gathering, and editing. This man... Is my Angle... Beware of spoilers

“There’s something that’s been bothering me…” 

Filbo looked up from the pile of paper at his paws. He had a small, focused frown from being shaken from his thoughts, but it curved into a friendly grin as your words registered. Filbo always smiled when you spoke to him. “What’s that, Buddy?”

You couldn’t help the small, reflexive smile that pushed your own mouth up. It was easy to rub away with your paw, especially as you focused back on what was bugging you. Your eyes grew serious beneath the brim of your hat. 

“Lizbert’s ship.”

Filbo’s smile was now a neutral line. You tapped the map in front of you. 

“The night I arrived at Snaktooth island, I saw the wreckage briefly. That ship had been smashed to bits, and at Flavor Falls no less.”

You looked up right as Filbo looked down. He shuffled the papers in front of him nervously, and the obvious change in demeanor grabbed your attention. You stared at him with a laser focus as you went on.

“The ship had allegedly been docked at the Boiling Bay, but somehow, it was moved and dashed against the cliffside sometime between Lizbert’s arrival and when Cromdo went looking for it after the big fight. In fact, Cromdo was the only one to even mention the ship to begin with.” 

Filbo was scratching his cheek nervously. 

“If it was a giant bugsnax that destroyed the ship,” you continued, “Cromdo and the rest of the settlement would have known about it. What’s more, if it had been a bugsnax, then it would make no sense that the ship itself had been moved.” No, the wreckage seemed much more deliberate to you. You had only caught a glimpse, but the ship had been utterly shattered at the bottom of the cliffside, like someone had deliberately steered it against that jagged stone facade. The location of the crash meant that almost nothing could have been recovered from the wreck. It was like it had been on purpose-

“Um. Buddy…?” Filbo glanced up at you with all the tentative shame of a puppy dog. “Yeah, that... That was me.”

You blinked at him, surprise wiping your mind like a dry erase board. Filbo laughed sheepishly, but it was a nervous sound, not a happy one. His eyes flicked between yours and the papers in front of him. “I… It was an accident!”

“Lizbert let me take it. I was trying to move it so it would be closer to the settlement, and I guess, the wind it just, caught the sail weird…” He sighed. He was small in his seat, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. You wanted to put a paw on them to get him to uncurl.

“Liz covered for me… She kept it a secret. That’s why no one knew about the ship…”

You nodded a bit, processing. “���Hey, wait,” You squinted, and Filbo’s head snapped up, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Didn’t you ask to sail my ship within the first few hours of knowing me??” You grinned, crossing your arms. You were laughing, and though it took a second for Filbo to laugh with you, he sounded genuinely relieved.

“Well, if at first you don’t succeed…!”

“Then borrow someone else’s equipment the next go around.” You finished, laughing. His shoulders had relaxed again, and he was smiling. It made your own grin grow.

“Give me some credit here! I piloted us out of there, didn’t I?” He teased, starting to stand.

You began gathering up your own papers. “You did, I’ll give you that one.” Your paws slowed as you looked down at your journal, your grin falling slightly. You rubbed at your mouth again as Filbo looked between you and your work.

“What’s the matter?” He asked softly.

You hummed quietly. It was nice having someone to talk to when you hit a rut like this. “Nothing… Just a feeling I have. Like I’m missing something.” You put your paw on your journal, as if the information you wanted would be released with the gentle ‘plap’ sound it made when your paw connected to the surface.

“Call it a journalistic instinct. I just feel like I haven’t figured something out yet. Like there’s an answer I need, but I don’t know what questions I have to ask to get at it.” You shook your head. The island had poured out all it’s pertinent secrets. You knew what happened to Lizbert. But you still felt like someone was hiding something. Something big. You were perplexed but you couldn’t pin down why.

It surprised you when you felt Filbo’s paw on your shoulder, and you looked up at him thoughtfully. The smile he gave you was a surprisingly soft one. Your own smile shone through your eyes as much as it did your mouth. “…I guess it’s pretty late.” You admitted. Normally that wouldn’t have stopped you.

“Definitely. Let’s get some rest, okay? I think we’re almost done.” Filbo gave you a tired smile. You didn’t feel like you were close to done yet, but you only nodded.

“Need anything?” He hadn’t for the past three nights, but you asked anyways. It was weird actually having a guest in the guest room.

“No, just a good night’s rest, heh!” Filbo stretched, heading towards his room. He paused at the door and looked back at you with an easy smile. “Night, buddy.”

“Goodnight Filbo.”

You laid in bed that night staring at the ceiling, the undiscovered mystery hunting you inside your own head. Something was missing. Something was wrong. Eventually a light, uneasy sleep overtook you, and restless dreams of darkness and hidden eyes flitted through your mind until morning. 

[winterscaptain]

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders. 

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast. 

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas. 

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.” 

“Of course. I wanted -” 

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!” 

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile. 

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king. 

Or, rather, two kings. 

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?” 

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.” 

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.” 

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.” 

What you mean is, What, with your bad back? 

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say - 

Yep. I feel like shit. 

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?” 

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs. 

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in. 

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket. 

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.” 

That’s not a good tone. 

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth. 

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit. 

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -” 

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods. 

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom. 

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.” 

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour. 

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line. 

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess. 

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.” 

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.” 

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes. 

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.” 

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek. 

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own. 

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.” 

“Understandable.” 

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit. 

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up. 

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?” 

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.” 

That doesn’t make much sense. 

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?” 

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes. 

Of course they did. 

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth. 

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you. 

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks. 

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.” 

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them? 

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.” 

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?” 

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds. 

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible. 

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.” 

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.” 

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway.  “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.” 

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side. 

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered. 

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.” 

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.” 

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.  

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.” 

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer. 

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment. 

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.” 

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.” 

Of course he did. 

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond. 

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too. 

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.” 

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.” 

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?” 

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.” 

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.” 

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.” 

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.” 

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?” 

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.” 

And so it begins. 

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?” 

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.” 

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything. 

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone. 

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?” 

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.” 

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.” 

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself. 

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder. 

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.” 

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.” 

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth. 

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line. 

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up. 

Shit. 

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.” 

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension. 

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?” 

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.” 

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath. 

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise. 

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss. 

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related. 

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon. 

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.” 

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face. 

“Is she…” 

You get closer, looking up at the monitor. 

“...putting on lipstick?” 

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.” 

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek. 

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic. 

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second. 

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse. 

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing. 

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.” 

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.” 

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.” 

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.” 

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.” 

“Right.” 

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful. 

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?” 

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.” 

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.” 

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole. 

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you. 

I’m okay. 

He nods as Erin speaks again. 

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best. 

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.” 

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.” 

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance. 

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.” 

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.” 

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone. 

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...” 

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?” 

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor. 

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?” 

“Anything.” 

“Stay here.” 

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone. 

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot. 

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers. 

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence. 

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed. 

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt. 

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive. 

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away. 

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again. 

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you. 

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you. 

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still. 

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you. 

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders. 

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?” 

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.” 

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.” 

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket. 

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.” 

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.” 

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?” 

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?” 

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.” 

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle. 

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?” 

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.” 

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much. 

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.” 

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.” 

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.” 

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad? 

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind. 

Evil twin, eviler twin. 

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances. 

Yeah, that one was pretty bad. 

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.” 

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.” 

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?” 

“All of the details are a part of their story.” 

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you. 

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script. 

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.” 

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous. 

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.” 

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.” 

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy. 

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.” 

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little. 

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion. 

“Where were the most casualties?” 

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.” 

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave. 

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.” 

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life. 

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.  

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.” 

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through. 

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.” 

He’d like to think he’s made of steel. 

Sometimes he is. 

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?” 

“They're 3 minutes away.” 

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.” 

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist. 

“Promise?” 

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.” 

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go. 

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air. 

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock. 

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron. 

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him. 

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet. 

Today is not that day. 

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?” 

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing. 

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you. 

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember. 

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck. 

They were house-hunting this morning. 

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.” 

They were at a convention this morning. 

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?” 

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.” 

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little. 

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home. 

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree. 

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs. 

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips. 

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around. 

Don’t push it.  

“I just thought you'd like to know that.” 

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.” 

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list. 

That’s a problem for another time. 

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things. 

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages. 

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again. 

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you. 

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him. 

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.” 

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.” 

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.” 

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display. 

“Hear that? We’re in.” 

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket. 

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute. 

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.” 

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.” 

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?” 

With a huff - “No.” 

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.” 

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep. 

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat. 

Sleep takes him rapidly after that. 

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet. 

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction. 

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything. 

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening. 

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other. 

You can just… be. 

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks. 

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!” 

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh? 

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile. 

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?” 

“God only knows.” 

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds. 

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.” 

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way. 

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous. 

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over. 

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?” 

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.” 

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear. 

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!” 

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief. 

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once. 

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard. 

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation. 

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.” 

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?” 

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles. 

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you. 

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.  

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like��tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone. 

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive. 

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.” 

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation. 

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?” 

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.” 

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?” 

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.” 

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.” 

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.” 

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Shit.” 

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family. 

“Hey.” 

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?” 

“What’s my tell?” 

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.” 

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?” 

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.” 

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor. 

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.” 

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.” 

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -” 

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.” 

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?” 

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.” 

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?” 

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face. 

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.” 

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself. 

“I said, you wish.” 

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.” 

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw  @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

[drem0raman]

Meeting the psy-oenix,rainbow feather’s story

It was many moons since rainbow feather had several inter-realmers visit equestria but this travelers were unique: a chozo/human hybrid tribe that were distant cousins to the griffon/hippogriff races that were involved in giving the bird race a place to live but had no part in aiding them in perilous dangers or civil disputes. the chozo tribes were shunned by the griffon/hippogriffs for being mistakened for savages of the everfree forest & having weird rituals that were taboo to the ordinary griffon. both gilda & rainbow dash had been together for years & had a family,during their time before they had children,there were sightings of rogue chozo natives wandering near griffonstone & they wanted to set up a tribe camp next door to the village,the village elders had agreed to let them do so because the tribe had recovered the idol of boreas to the griffons & were rewarded with returning land to the lost tribe. 

as time passed,both dash & gilda went to the tribe camp to learn more of the chozo mixed tribe but were refusing visitors due to spiritual host concerns so they were forced to wait for the camp to open,as the camp opened,rainbow feather the medic was summoned to the camp by the orders of scrying rain,she wanted to show feather the power of her children & what that power meant to the chozo’s

Rainbow feather: hello,is there any bird relatives i’m looking to speak to? 

???: shh,over here child,i’m the one your looking for

RF: i’ve met you before but never had the option of seeing your real self as you wore a robe,right? 

*takes off robe & addresses self* My name is scrying rain,feather,you are speaking to the mother of her twin children you are friends with,yes? *raises brow,crosses arms* 

Rf: yes..whoa,i didn’t think you would look like maiden,ma’am. the color & fur gives it away,how is it that your son sageling doesn’t look like you? just wondering why

Sr: if you must know,my son sageling is a chozo/bird/human hybrid,he may not look like me but he takes after his human father,my lover. i called you here because i wanted to show you the secret of my family powers,no outsider has witnessed it until now. i hope you brought the recording stone for your family to see what i was talking about. 

inside the tent,sageling phoenix was dressed in only a mogli style loincloth that was grey colored,he was floating in a fetal position as the chozo elders were prepping to move something from somewhere,rainbow feather glanced at the glowing neon bodypaints sageling was covored in. very quickly,the elders removed a red orb from sage’s body,the orb soon flashed an orange bubble & 2 more colored orbs manifested,1 was blue & the other was green.rain explained to feather while the stone recorded the action

Sr: as you can see,this is the psy-oenix,the red orb is the core of the psy-oenix & my former lover’s life energy,vengo. the green orb is honored maiden’s link while the blue one is my son’s link,they are both connected to the psy-oenix & need its energy to use their psychic powers *points to sageling* my son needs to be the host of the psy-oenix as the creature has to be contained,otherwise,its rage can be really dangerous

Rf: wha......?! that’s the psy-oenix’s true form? i never saw that before,does it have a physical form to manifest or no? (feels energy homing around body)

chozo elder: yes it does,it has a physical form but outside its host,it takes on the form of an orb. its takes this form in order to sustain itself from harming others,see those little devices & bug like things? we use them to both anchor & carry the orb without being harmed,if you were to try & move it with your hands,you’ll get burned. we try to reduce the number of injuries by moving it into a gem or back to sageling

the orb was transferred into sageling & the energy dissipated,rainbow feather was both wowed & speechless at the marvel of the chozo spirit guardian,the stone flashed pink as it meant it finushed its recording. feather took the stone to show her family as to explain the origin of the spirit guardian of the chozo hybrids,the end

[nightingaelic]

Craig, Veronica, and Cass learn about Arcade and his father being in the Enclave and constantly running from the BoS and NCR? (IMO, Gannon isnt guilty of anything. He was a child when the Enclave was being hunted down. He actively tries to make the wasteland better!)

The only thing Arcade is guilty of is occasionally annoying Julie Farkas and missing his therapy sessions with Doctor Usanagi, cHaNgE mY mInD

Arcade sighed and tilted his glass of wine around in the afternoon sunlight. "My late father was... an officer in a group called the Enclave, a remnant of America's pre-war government. Memories being short around here, not a whole lot of people remember them, but they did bad things."

"Like what?" the courier asked, accepting the shot of tequila they had ordered from the securitron currently bartending at the Lucky 38 cocktail lounge. They ignored the little tray of salt alongside the drink and downed the liquor straight.

Arcade shrugged. "Terrorized communities, kidnapped people. Eventually, someone stopped them. I was born a few years later at a military base on the coast, a place called Navarro."

The courier slammed their shot glass down on the bar and froze. Arcade tensed too, wondering if his confession had touched a nerve, but was both relieved and terrified when they directed their surprise at someone behind him. "How long have you been standing there?"

Craig Boone: "Long enough."

It was the last voice Arcade wanted to hear, and he slowly spun on his stool to face the former NCR sniper standing by the lounge's entrance. Boone's face was as unreadable as ever beneath his beret and sunglasses, but Arcade could tell his guard was up by his stance: One hand open-palmed, ready to retrieve the rifle on his back, and the other curled into a fist.

Before Arcade could say anything, the courier stood up. Clearly, they sensed some kind of damage had been done. "Easy, Boone. Come over here. Let's talk."

Boone looked like he would rather jump out one of the Lucky 38's windows, but he stiffly approached the bar as requested. "So talk."

The courier's eyes briefly swept the room, searching for the words. "Do you remember what you told me, when I first met you? I walked into Cliff's shop to sell a bunch of Legion armor from that group that tried to get the drop on me outside of town, and you snuck up behind me with your tough guy shtick because you thought I might be a deserter trying to sell my own armor and cover my tracks?"

"If you're an enemy of the NCR, you're an enemy of mine," Boone replied darkly.

"Right." The courier put their hand on Arcade's shoulder. "Let's not repeat that incident, okay?"

Arcade didn't think it was a strong enough statement to convince the 1st Recon graduate, but it did seem to resonate with Boone. Slowly, the sharpshooter's fist uncurled. "Okay."

This appeared to satisfy the courier, who sat back down and signaled the securitron to fetch another tequila. Arcade looked nervously between them and Boone, who didn't seem to be going anywhere. "Should I... should we hold off for today, or..."

"Oh, sorry." The courier made a face. "He's waiting for you to continue, if you don't mind. He decided to throw punches first in Novac and ask questions later, so I kicked his ass and made him promise that if he was going to travel with me, he needed to hear people out before he judged them."

Arcade's gaze immediately swung back to Boone, who nodded so solemnly that he had to choke back a laugh. "O-okay then. Thanks. Uh, let's... keep going."

Veronica Santangelo: "Sorry, I, uh..." Arcade turned to find Veronica swaying back and forth between the conversation she'd accidentally walked in on and the exit, her face cycling through shades of pink. Eventually her curiosity won out and she dashed over to the bar, taking the stool on the other side of him. "Navarro? The NCR crushed it in 2248, or was it 2249... did you have to escape, or did you get out before they came after you?"

"We went south before it was sacked," Arcade answered, bewildered. "My mother and I left with a group of my father's old unit when most of the remaining forces fled east with the remaining leadersh- Veronica, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I originally came up here to tell Six that the King is looking for them," Veronica admitted. "Something about bodyguards and a guy named Warren? Harris? Anyway, it can wait, this is much more interesting. Did you hide in NCR territory, or did you just try to stay out of everyone's way?"

"Veronica," the courier pressed, leaning around Arcade to look at the Scribe. "This is supposed to be a private conversation?"

"Six, do you have any idea how rare it is to find former Enclave members?" Veronica protested. "They're like one-headed brahmin nowadays, on account of the..."

She trailed off in realization, so Arcade finished the thought for her. "On account of the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel killing them off wherever they could find them."

"Mmm, there is that." Veronica squirmed in her seat. "And technically speaking, I would be obligated to report any known Enclave survivors to my superiors with the intention of having them executed or at least run out of town, but... how old would you say you were, when you left Navarro?"

"Around three."

Veronica beamed. "Well then I can't really call you an Enclave member anyway, since I don't think they were inducting kids into their ranks. Even after we got a hold of them."

"Uh-huh." Arcade studied her for a beat before turning back to the courier. "She's not going to go away, is she?"

"Probably not," the courier replied. "Even if I kick her out, she'll just keep bugging you until you tell her."

"Great." Arcade took a sip of his wine and pointed a finger at Veronica. "Not a word to anyone, okay?"

Veronica mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. "You got it."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Don't mind me, just trying to re-stock my first aid kit." Cass sauntered over to the bar like she hadn't just stumbled upon Arcade spilling his deepest, darkest secret, and slapped the counter to get the securitron's attention. "Found myself running a little low on my last outing to Red Lucy's in Westside, and I figured House had some of the good stuff hidden away for just such an occasion."

"We were up here for some privacy," the courier said testily, eyes flicking between Cass and Arcade.

"In a goddamn bar?" Cass whistled. "Sorry, must've missed the sign on the door. Or were you being serious, when you said we weren't allowed up here without an escort? Better remind Raul, he was up here yesterday to take in the view. And Veronica, she was making friends with the robots last week. In fact, let's have a staff meeting, it's been a spell since we got everybody together in one place. You can tell your sob story to a larger audience, Arcade."

"You're an asshole, Cass," Arcade said affectionately. "This wasn't supposed to be a performance."

"Oh no." Cass feigned embarrassment. "And here I am, barging in on you like a deathclaw in a doctor's office. The Enclave? Thought you were all extinct by now. Wait 'til Boone finds out."

"He won't find out," the courier warned her in a low voice. "Unless Arcade wants him to. Understand?"

"No argument here." Cass took the other seat next to Arcade and propped her boots up on the bar. "But I wanna hear this too. I don't have strong feelings about those Navarro folks either way, but it sounds like a thrilling tale. Might even take my mind off my own troubles."

The courier looked like they were ready to physically toss her out of the cocktail lounge, but Arcade stopped them. "She's fine. Annoying, but fine. Get your drinks, Cass, and I'll give you the full-length version."

Cass grinned. "That's what I'm talking about. Three bottles of whiskey and one glass, please. And none of that radioactive shit, I'm talking whiskey. Not Dixon Whiskey- whiskey."

[yourmidnightlover]

comfort blurb request??? maybe Spencer is just taking the absolute most care for you and making sure you’re okay after a hard case

cw: case mentions, mention of abusive and neglectful parents, unsub dies, crying, kind of a breakdown by the reader, spencer being a very nice little bean. *please let me know if ive missed anything*

a/n: so this turned out far longer than i anticipated but i love it nonetheless. thank you for the request, love <3

you were attached.

you couldn’t help it either.

spencer could tell

as you looked at the unsub from around the corner with a sense of sympathy, he recognized a part of himself on similar cases. when an unsub was schizophrenic, or when an unsub had been bullied, or when they had a drug problem that had been forced on them.

but for you, he couldn’t tell why you sympathized with this unsub. they’ve worked cases with unsubs just like this one - while all unsubs are different, their backgrounds tend to meld together on occasion.

in this situation it was abusive parents that would neglect them, no siblings, no grandparents or aunts or uncles to turn to… they were alone and were forced to cope with their own insanity. this unsub… he had nowhere to turn for his own depression and anxiety and he had to cope in some sort of way. he just chose to do that by killing.

now, on the jet ride back home, with 1 hour left, spencer walked over to sit beside you on the couch. for the duration of the ride, you hadn’t been talking. you hadn’t been reading. you were just sitting there in silence, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

the unsub had been shot. he was breaking down. he was going to shoot you. you would’ve let him. hotch took the shot that you couldn’t take. you were angry with him at first. you clutched his shirt in your hands, yet hotch didn’t care. he held onto your shoulders and looked at you with that same look of sympathy you had for the unsub. he hugged your shoulders as you cried into his vest.

“he didn’t deserve that!” you sobbed into his vest. “he just wanted to be okay…”

“i know,” hotch stroked your shoulders, soothing you until spencer walked over.

he took your hands from his shirt and wrapped them around spencer, knowing you’d want your best friend’s shoulder to cry on instead of your boss’s. spencer looked at hotch with a look of confusion, clearly not knowing why she was so upset.

“ask,” he informed spencer, patting his shoulder before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

he practically carried you to the car. you were barely strong enough to keep yourself from tripping over your feet. spencer was your crutch, and that’s how he liked it. you had spent so long putting up this strong front for everyone, it only took one case for it to finally wear down the last of your walls.

“how about we have a sleepover when we get back?” spencer asked, finally breaking you from your trance as you turned to face him sitting beside you on the couch.

you didn’t say anything. you merely nodded and rested your head on his shoulder, trying to conceal the tears that had continued to flow from his gesture of kindness. he wrapped his arms around you and laid down on the couch, allowing you to rest on his chest for the duration of the ride. he knew you weren’t asleep. but perhaps a little piece of your mind was able to stop racing around because of his presence.

everyone saw it go down. but they didn’t say anything. it was obvious the two of you were closer than friends. the way you would put each other before anything, the way you would both simply look at each other. you always hung out after work when you were able to. you would have sleepovers with one another. you would do each other’s work. you would eat lunch together. you would get coffee together… you get the gist.

so seeing him comfort you so tenderly after the breakdown you had… it felt warm. although, derek didn’t hesitate snapping a picture of the way you cuddled into spencer’s chest, his eyes closed with content so he could send it to his babygirl later.

once you got off the jet, hotch dismissed everyone home for two days, something about getting some well needed rest and rehabilitation.

spencer began to drive your car to your place, thinking you’d want to be in the comfort of your own apartment. once you saw him make the turn towards your place rather than his own, you reached across the console and grasped his arm.

“what?” he asked with a questioning tone.

you shook your head, “i don’t wanna go to my place,” you continued to shake your head rapidly as he pulled the car over.

“hey, hey,” he placed his hand on the sides of your face to ground you. “we’ll go to mine, alright? whatever you need, we’ll get you,” you finally nodded your head before spencer reached over and kissed your forehead.

so, he took you to his apartment. he wanted you to feel safe, and if going to his place would provide that, then he would supply. he insisted on carrying your bags so you could walk on your own, so you did. but the second you were inside, he dropped the bags by the couch and wrapped you in his arms once more.

“go lie down on my bed, alright?” he whispered in your ear. “i’ll order us takeout and get you some tea. you get comfortable.”

you nodded and kissed the side of his neck before he released you, his hand lingering on your waist as you began walking down the hallway. his eyes lingered on your figure as you walked away, your arms wrapped around yourself as you entered his room.

he sighed before turning back to make your tea. perhaps chamomile would help you relax. he picked up the phone while the water was boiling and ordered you your favorite takeout. after the order was placed, he poured the boiling water into a mug with the tea bag and a dash of honey for sweetness.

“hey, bug,” he called as he entered the room. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, arms still wrapped around yourself in a self-soothing manner as he sat beside you. “here’s your tea, and the food should be here in around 20 more minutes.”

“okay,” you sighed as you took the cup from him, taking a sip. “thank you - for everything.”

“you don’t need to thank me,” he told you. “i’m happy to make sure my best friend knows she’s cared for.”

“no, i need to thank you,” you sniffled. “it’s not very often that i actually need to be taken care of, and i’m just not used to it. i’ve spent most of my life caring for myself and others and… and i really needed this - needed you,” you placed your free hand on top of his and gently squeezed it.

“i would take care of you forever,” he whispered, the look in his eyes telling you that he meant every word.

“i love you.”

“i love you.”

you both said in unison.

spencer’s eyes searched yours for the same meaning his portrayed - yours secretly doing the same.

“i’m in love with you,” you sniffled. “i have been for a while,” you shrugged.

“i am too - in love with you,” he smiled. “i’m so in love with you it hurts. when i saw you crying, i… i wanted to take it all on myself. you don’t deserve to hurt. you’re the one person who actually cares about people and takes care of them with no expectations.”

“thank you,” you grinned. “i know you want to know why i was so upset tonight, but…”

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you aren’t ready,” his hand gently squeezed your thigh.

knock. knock. knock

spencer rose from his seat on the bed and retrieved the food. he returned to see you scooted up to one side of the bed - the side you always slept on during your sleepovers. your tea was sat down on the bedside table and your legs in criss-cross applesauce position.

“hey,” he knocked on the door so he wouldn’t startle you.

“hey,” you smiled as he climbed in bed beside you.

he began passing out the food, and you ate in silence. it was a comfortable silence, one that the two of you had become accustomed to. your arms would accidentally touch, causing the both of you to blush and smile like idiots at the other.

once you were finished, spencer cleaned up the food and you went to brush your teeth, him doing the same after you. upon his return, you were already in your night clothes - a large t-shirt and some shorts you’ve had for ages. your makeup was removed and your hair was in a messy bun at the bottom of your head.

“you’re beautiful,” spencer couldn’t help but speak as he went to change his clothes.

“so are you,” you spoke up quietly. “i don’t think people tell you that often enough.”

“i’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he chuckled as he grabbed a pair of old sweatpants to change into. he came back in an immediately cuddled up next to you in bed. “how do you wanna cuddle? or do you even want to cuddle?”

“is that even a question? of course i wanna cuddle,” you scoffed as you took his right arm and began snuggling with it, your fingers intertwined with his, your head rested on his chest as his free hand was tracing circles on your waist. “i love you so much, spencer.”

“i love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“say it again, please,” he felt his skin begin to dampen where your eyes were.

“i love you,” he moved his free hand to stroke your hair.

“again, please,” you sniffled.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispered. “i love you so much,” he continued. “i love your kindness. i love your spirit. i love your generosity. i love your humility. i love everything about you. i will always love you,” pressing one more kiss to your forehead, he heard your steady breaths and knew you had finally fallen asleep.

and in that moment, with you clutching his arm as you snored softly, he knew that he’d never let you go.

[sukifans]

HELP ME // sokka

WARNINGS: language, a Bug

WC: 3.3k

A/N: a little somethin somethin for @fromthewatertribe’s 1k event! i had a lot of fun doing this drabble. i used 2 (“please help me”) and 8 (“i thought you loved me”) for this bad boy that definitely got away from me lmao

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

Panic surged through Sokka when he checked his phone and saw he had about twenty missed calls from you over the past ten minutes. Just as he was about to call back, your contact photo popped up on the screen accompanied by the duck quack ringtone you’d set for yourself ages ago.

“I’ll be back,” he mumbled to Zuko, who nodded absently while preparing a customer’s tea. He stepped out the back of the Jasmine Dragon and slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

“SOKKA, THANK FUCK!” You sounded like you were crying on the other end. He frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear in response to your screech.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you?” he demanded over the ruckus of your wails. His hand dropped to his car keys in his pocket, ready to leave if you needed him.

“I’M AT HOME AND THERE’S A R-ROACH IN—“

Sokka groaned. “(Y/N), I’m at work. I cannot come kill a bug for you.”

Your blubbering paused. “B-But... I need help! And no one else will help me! Please help me!”

“As much as I want to help you I can’t right now, princess. I can swing by after we close in about an hour, though.”

You made a strangled sort of screaming sound and hung up. He brought his hand down, staring at his screen in surprise. The line was busy when he tried to call you back, so he pocketed his phone with a sigh and headed back inside.

Zuko was speaking on the store phone with someone when he got back to the front, making a face like he had just eaten something sour or smelled something foul. Sokka shot him a questioning look as he tied his apron back around his waist and Zuko beckoned him over.

“What’s up?” Sokka asked in a low voice.

“Just go,” Zuko huffed. “I can finish closing by myself and she said she won’t stop calling us until you help her.”

“Wh- give me that.” He took the landline receiver from Zuko. “Seriously, (Y/N)?”

“I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT, SOKKA!”

“It’s a bug!”

“IT’S FUCKING HUGE AND IT’S IN MY FUCKING ROOM, PLEASE GET OVER HERE! I NEED YOU!”

He made eye contact with Zuko and his friend just shook his head. “Fine, okay, you win. I’m on my way.”

She hiccuped. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for, Sokka. I love you. Please hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, princess,” he grumbled before hanging up. Zuko was watching him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, fuck off, dude.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He tried to hide his smirk by turning away to wipe down the counter.

“Don’t look so smug.” He smacked the back of his friend’s head after he threw his apron in the laundry bag.

“Hey!” Zuko punched his shoulder. “It’s not my fault you’re whipped for (Y/N) and too much of a pussy to make a move.”

“You’re fucking lucky I’m whipped and have to go kill a bug for my girl otherwise I’d kick your ass, Zuko.” He flipped him the middle finger as he headed out the door, keys in his other hand.

“Later, princess.” Zuko twiddled his fingers mockingly in goodbye. Sokka scoffed as he left, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Yeah, he was whipped for you. He was wrapped securely and comfortably around your pinky finger. So what? It wasn’t like he had plans to do anything about it. He was perfectly happy being your friend — your best friend, in your own words. No way in hell would he risk fucking that up and losing you.

When he banged on your apartment door you simply yelled from inside that it was unlocked. It was hard to suppress a laugh at the scene that greeted him. You were curled up on your kitchen counter, hood of your sweatshirt drawn tight around your head so only your nose and eyes were visible and a can of bug spray in your trembling hand. Your tear-streaked face lit up when you saw him and it made his heart clench in his chest.

“Hey, princess.”

“Sokka!” You dropped the can and threw yourself at him. He caught you in his arms with a grunt and you wrapped your legs around his middle, clinging to his neck. His hands supported your back to keep you upright. “God, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life. I could fucking kiss you right now.”

He had to recover quickly from almost choking on air in order to keep his composure. “Just doing my manly best friend duties.” He gulped when you slid down his body. Your feet hit the floor again but you still held onto him. “Alright, where’s the big bad bug?”

You glared up at him for his teasing. “My room. I was about to go take a shower when it fucking flew at my face! I don’t even know where it came from!”

“Stand by, princess,” he ruffled your hair and pulled off one of his sneakers to wield as a bludgeon, “I’ve got it all under control.” You rolled your eyes a bit when he puffed his chest out and flexed comically. You released him from your vice grip so he could stalk up to the closed door of your bedroom. Of course, you stayed planted firmly in the kitchen and watched from a distance.

“Be careful,” you warned, “it’s literally the biggest roach I’ve ever seen.”

“It may be big, but I’m bigger. And smarter.” He tapped his temple with his finger.

“I don’t know about that second part,” you giggled. He shot you a withering look.

“Do you want me to kill this thing or not?”

“Yes, sorry! You are so very strong and intelligent and handsome, Sokka. Much more strong and intelligent and handsome than the roach.”

“You know what? I’ll take that compliment.” He winked at you, sending your heart into your throat. You stuck your tongue out and made a face to hopefully hide how flustered you were.

“Stop flirting and kill the fucking bug!”

“You started it!”

“Sokka!” Laughing, he pushed open the door to your bedroom and disappeared inside. You watched the doorway with bated breath, listening to Sokka rummaging around to find the vermin.

There was an almighty thud, then a crash and a shriek along with thundering footsteps as your friend dashed out of the room with a massive roach flying behind him. You screamed too when you spotted the bug as it landed on your wall. Before you could react any further, Sokka had grabbed you and yanked you out the front door, slamming it shut behind you both.

“That’s no ordinary roach,” he panted, leaning against the door. He still held you close to his torso with an arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “Fucking military drone or something.”

“Did you think I was fucking joking?” Your stomach churned uneasily thinking about the insect walking all over your walls and prized possessions. A shudder ran down your spine and you buried your face into his chest, grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt. “What am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back in there with that thing loose!”

“I don’t know.”

“You were supposed to kill it!”

“It charged me!”

“You big chicken!” Looking up, you flicked his forehead and giggled at his incredulous look. “I thought you loved me!”

His face felt like it was on fire. “I do!”

“Then why didn’t you kill it? You were supposed to protect me, Sokka!” Your hands settled on his chest and he hoped you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating. “So much for being smarter and stronger!”

“But you admit I’m more handsome still?” Your cheeks burned when his hand slid to your hip, using his thumb to rub circles into your hipbone through the fabric of your clothes.

“More handsome than the roach?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his goofy smile. “I guess you qualify for that.”

“Tough crowd,” he sighed. “I was going to bring you back to mine so you could get out of your roach-infested apartment, but if that’s how you really feel then I’ll leave you with the stronger, smarter organism.”

“The roach?” you squeaked indignantly. He chuckled at your wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I changed my mind. You are the smartest and strongest and handsomest again. Please let me crash at your place?”

“Wow, using me for my sweet crib? And here I was thinking you loved me for me!”

“Pretty please?” You clasped your hands under your chin, pouted, and gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes as if he were being greatly put out. “You know I can’t say no to that face. Let’s go, princess.” He disentangled himself from you and started to walk away only to realize you weren’t following. He turned back to you. “(Y/N)?”

You looked down at your socked feet. “I don’t have shoes. Or my keys.”

“I’m not going back in there.”

“Well, I’m not either.”

“Then it seems we’re at a stalemate.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Do you still have that spare key I gave you when I went out of town?”

“Good thinking, kid.” He shuffled around his key ring until he found yours, easily identifiable by the heart you’d painted onto it with your favorite nail polish. “Way to use your noodle.” He locked your front door and stood in front of you once again.

“Shoes,” you said simply, extending your leg to lift your foot in the air. “I’m not walking around like this. Knowing my luck I’ll step on a used needle and end up with some rare blood disease.” Sokka scratched the back of his neck as he considered this before a wicked grin split across his face. You did not like the looks of that. “Sokka...”

Without warning, he grabbed you around your middle and hoisted you onto his shoulder like a sack of flour. The inversion of your body made you squeal, scrambling to grab something to stabilize yourself. In your panic, you sunk your nails into the flesh of his ass.

“Jesus!” He gripped you tighter to stop you from slipping in his surprise. “I know I have an irresistibly fat ass but you gotta be careful back there, babe. That’s my moneymaker!”

If all your blood hadn’t been already rushing to your head you would’ve flushed. “That’s what you get for picking me up, asshole!” You paused. “What the fuck are you talking about, ‘your moneymaker?’”

“Well, I couldn’t have you stepping on a used needle and ending up with some rare blood disease, now could I?” You could practically hear his smirk as he carried you down to the front of your building.

“Do you derive joy from driving me up a wall?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. You made an indignant noise and pinched his side. He yelped and smacked the back of your bare thighs in response.

“Did you just spank me?” You thrashed in protest, making him stumble a bit.

“No,” he grunted and then brought his hand down on your ass, eliciting a gasp from you. “Now I did.”

“Sokka!”

“That’s ‘Daddy’ to you, princess.” He tried to drop his voice an octave to sound stern but he couldn’t suppress his laughter. You were just glad he couldn’t see your face.

“I’m going to throttle you when you put me down,” you threatened.

“Kinky.”

“You know what? I’ll take my chances with the roach. Bring me back, you fucking deviant.”

He dropped you down to the ground and you leaned back against his car door, looking away from his face. “Aw, you’re hurting my feelings, babe. I seem to remember someone telling me—“

You clapped your hand over his mouth before he could continue. “That’s enough out of you, thanks.” You could feel his smile against your palm at the reference to a highly inappropriate conversation you’d had together when you were both extremely drunk. You recoiled when he licked your hand.

“Alright, alright; let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered without any malice as he reached around you to open the passenger door. He simply gave you that same shit-eating grin and closed your door.

Sokka decided to spare your pride and carried you up to his apartment on his back instead of over his shoulder. His hands on your thighs, shifting your position every so often, made your heart race. You could still catch whiffs of the tea from the Jasmine Dragon off his clothes, mingling with the masculine smell of his deodorant. The combination put you at ease after the trauma of dealing with the roach and you sighed happily, setting your chin on his shoulder and pressing your cheek against his. The stubbly scruff along his jaw prickled at your skin but you couldn’t find it in you to care much.

You thought he’d drop you down onto his couch once you’d entered his apartment but instead he carried you into his bedroom and flopped backwards onto his mattress, knocking the wind out of your chest as he squished you under his body. Despite the squeezing weight on your lungs you were laughing uncontrollably, arms still thrown around his shoulders. Sokka wished he could have moments like this with you every night; that he could turn around and kiss you without ruining everything.

“Why so giggly, kid? Are you enjoying this?” he teased, leaning his head back onto your chest.

“Laughter is my panic response. You’re suffocating me, fatass,” you wheezed

“Nah, I think you like it.”

You hummed thoughtfully as the giggles subsided. “Maybe. You’re kinda like one of those weighted blankets.”

“Yeah?” He turned so he faced you, propping himself up on his forearms on either side of your head. “Do I relieve your anxiety?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “The opposite, actually.”

“You wound me, really. I am a calming, peaceful, meditative presence. I am a delight and a joy to be around.” He frowned when you threw your head back in incredulous laughter. You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him onto his back, pinning him underneath you.

“Maybe you have your moments.” He stared wide-eyed up at your teasing smile and considered closing the space between your mouths. Before he could work up the nerve, you sat back on your haunches out of reach. “I need to shower.”

“Without me?” he pouted. You groaned and shoved his face into the mattress as you stood.

“Don’t wait up, baby.” He flushed at the nickname you used to tease him. He propped himself up on his elbows to see you down the hall.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” he said. You stopped just outside the bathroom door.

“Sokka, we don’t have to do this every time. I think it’s okay if we just sleep in the same bed without arguing over who gets the couch at this point.”

“If you’re alright with it,” he sighed, dropping his head back down.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s you.” You gave him a quick smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

You always secretly loved staying over with Sokka. The lather of his soap running down your body into the drain made you feel wrapped in his presence — a great comfort despite your teasing that suggested otherwise. His meticulous organizing even in the shower always made you laugh a little to yourself. His products were neatly organized in the order he used them, likely something he started doing when you’d dragged him to a beauty store after finding out he used 3-in-1 “for efficiency.” Now, to your immense pride and satisfaction, he had a full skincare and haircare routine.

Upon exiting the shower wrapped in a towel, you saw Sokka snoring lightly on his bed next to a pile of clothes he’d left out for you. You pulled on his shirt and quickly wriggled under the covers, propping yourself up on your elbow. You poked your finger into his cheek and he grunted, swatting at you.

“Leave me alone, woman,” he murmured.

“You need to shower.” He cracked an eye open to glare at you.

“You’re awfully demanding for a guest in my bed.”

“Well, you worked today and you stink.”

“That’s just my natural man musk. Pheromones and stuff. Nothing to be done about it.”

“Are you an ant?”

“Only if you’ll be my queen ant.” He sent you a cocky smirk and you simply shook your head.

“You’re fucking weird, dude.” He laughed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you directly into his armpit as you squealed. Finally you freed yourself and rolled onto your side away from him with a huff. Sokka slid behind you and rested his head on your shoulder, sliding his arm around your waist.

“You know you love me, princess.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. He chuckled and the sound reverberated against your back, his warm breath on your cheek making goosebumps rise on your skin. His thumb slid absently back and forth across your stomach and the soft touch lulled your heavy eyelids closed.

“Don’t go to bed mad, babe. At least give me my goodnight kiss.”

Enough. It’s now or never.

Before you could start second-guessing yourself, you rolled onto your back underneath him and surged upwards to press your lips to his in an insistent kiss. It lasted only a few moments before you pulled away because he remained frozen against you. His clear blue eyes were wide as he stared down at you and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and the tears threatening to spill as you realized what you’d done.

“You shouldn’t flirt if you don’t mean it, Sokka. It gives people the wrong idea,” you whispered, the corners of your mouth pulling into a frown. His gaze darted from your eyes down to your lips and back again.

“Who says I don’t mean it?” And then he was finally, finally kissing you before you could tell him off. You snaked your arm around his shoulders and pulled him down on top of you, desperate to be closer, to feel his body on your own to reassure yourself that yes, this was happening and it was real. His hand trailed up to cup your face, skimming his thumb gently along your cheekbone. You both broke away to gasp for air. Sokka looked down at your flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips that were just beginning to swell and he thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself,” you laughed, swiping your thumb over his satisfied smile on your way to pull the tie from his ponytail. The ends of his loose hair tickled your face as he kissed you again, this time much more gentle.

“And why shouldn’t I be?” Another kiss. “I’m kissing the girl I’ve been in love with for years.” Your eyes widened and you shoved him back onto the bed.

“Years?” you squeaked. “We could’ve been doing this for years?”

“I didn’t know you had feelings for me!”

“Of course I had feelings for you, are you joking?”

“Then why didn’t you do anything before now? I flirt with you constantly!”

“Because I thought you were joking!”

“Well, that’s on you, then. Now c’mere, princess,” he reached out and hugged you close to his body again, “we have a lot of time to make up for.”

“God, you’re such a cornball.” You giggled at the teasing kisses he peppered all over your face. When he finally caught your lips you hummed happily against his mouth. He tasted sweeter than the most tooth-rotting candy and gave you the same sugar high.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“I do.” You snuggled down under the blanket and rested your head on his chest. “I love you, Sokka.”

He ruffled your hair affectionately. “I love you too, princess.”

“You still need to shower, though.”

“Ugh.”

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi

SOKKA/ZUKO TAGS: @fiantomartell

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Epilogue

cruel summer masterlist

AN: I swore to you I would have this posted before I moved, and I DID (I leave in 11 hours for my cross country drive). Sorry this took forever, I pretty much wrote... a 10k word sequel.

It seems that fate enjoys playing cosmic jokes on Rowan Whitethorn when it comes to the first day of summer.

He and Aelin were supposed to take off for Terrasen yesterday, in order to make it to opening day at the park. Then, after closing, he was going to take Aelin down to the water, beneath the docks, where they’d kissed for the first time. It was going to be perfect. Just the two of them, reunited by the water, watching the sun dip below the horizon, ready for a new summer of memories – this time to be made together. But today was a piece of shit, and everything had gone to shambles. With the app formally launching this week, Rowan’s office was in crunch mode. He tried to escape, but was held back with last minute bugs to fix. He sent Aelin off, telling her he’d meet her there as soon as he was freed from work. But before he knew it, yesterday turned into noon today. And somehow noon turned into five. And then to six. At seven, Rowan finally put his foot down and insisted he would answer any questions from the road. He’d be working remotely all summer anyway. He’d dictate code for them over the phone, if they needed. And they had. His front dash rings with an incoming call from Aelin as he speeds along the interstate, praying to the gods he doesn’t get pulled over. Although with the way his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised. He sighs loudly in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Aelin’s sleepy voice comes through the speakers. It’s already midnight, and he’s sure she’s about to fall asleep any second.

“I’ve had about six calls with Darrow,” Rowan sighs. He doesn’t really mind – he loves his job, and loves being part of this team. But, his boss’s perfectionist tendencies have him working long after the clock stops. “I’m so tired,” he complains. “Oh no,” Aelin coddles him. “How far away are you?” Rowan glances at his navigation. “Three hours out. If I don’t hit any more snags.” Aelin chuckles softly. “Yeah, you didn’t forget anything else important, did you?” Rowan groans, thinking of his absolute incompetence as a human. Maybe if he’d been less flustered about rushing  out of work and heading  to Terrasen, he wouldn’t have made this insane mistake. Nearly an hour on the road, Rowan realized he’d forgotten the most important item he needed this summer. Unconsciously, Rowan pats at his pants and finds the lump in his pocket easily. He swallows thickly. His entire plan would have been ruined without that tiny box. Unable to tell her what he really went back for, he lied and told Aelin he’d forgotten his wallet. She seemed to believe him, but he was now running two hours behind. He picks up his pace even more. “I miss you,” he sighs, and he can hear the crinkling of Aelin’s starchy sheets beneath her head as she rolls to her side. “You’ll have me soon enough,” she laughs. “I wish I could have you right now,” he whines, and he can hear the small hitch in Aelin’s breath before she replies. “Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?” Her voice is low and breathy, and he can’t help but groan her name in frustration. He’s been working his ass off prepping for this app launch. And with Aelin taking classes and studying for boards on top of teaching, they’ve both been far too tired to do anything but curl up in bed and sleep. Two exhausted ships passing in the night. Two exhausted, and clearly horny, ships. Rowan swears as arousal courses through his strained muscles. “Should I pull over?” he asks.

If Aelin wants help getting off through the phone, he’s not not participating. Rowan looks ahead to see when the next exit is. He’ll need to find somewhere dark and secluded fast. But Aelin hesitates, and he can practically see her flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she chews on her bottom lip as she debates her answer. “No,” she finally replies, resigned. “Just. Drive fast.” Rowan taps the accelerator a little harder, pushing his new car another few miles above the speed limit. “On it.” “Rowan?” She breathes softly into the receiver. “I don’t care how late it is, wake me up when you get here.” “Yes ma’am,” he laughs. “Love you,” she mumbles sleepily. Rowan blessedly doesn’t get pulled over, and somehow he makes up an entire hour, pulling up the long driveway to Ashryver Estate just after 2am. He turns the headlights off quickly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone. The house looks as imposing as always, its wide balconies and oversized windows glowing under the outdoor lights. But Rowan can’t help but think how different his life is from a single year ago. For one, he and Aelin will be sleeping in her room together, with the complete awareness and approval of her parents. Rowan assumed it would be weird for them to be in the house, so they rented a place of their own, but Rhoe and Evalin insisted they spend at least their first night with them. At least. He supposes when he’s been living with their daughter since last Yulemas and asked for her father’s approval of their marriage a few days later, it can’t be that weird. But still, Rowan’s excited to have their own place. Albeit. A much smaller. Less expensive place.

A large yawn rips its way from Rowan’s mouth, and he decides to leave his bag in the bag seat. He’ll get it in the morning. For now, he just wants to take off his work clothes and get into bed with Aelin.

But of course, nothing about today is easy. Rowan lifts the front mat, expecting the key beneath, but it’s missing. He checks his phone to see if Aelin told him they moved it elsewhere. But no. It’s supposed to be there for him. He reaches under a potted plant just to make sure. But still. No key. He jiggles the doorknob, hoping against all hopes that in this small beach town maybe they left the door unlocked for him. But it remains unmovable. Shit. The gods truly are against him. Rowan flicks his cellphone light on, searching the small path that leads to the backyard. Thorns from the overgrown rose bushes scrape his arms, and he hisses as one catches his skin. Fuck this day. Once he makes it safely to the back patio, he attempts the sliding door, but of course, it is locked, too. Rowan glances at the rose trellis, leading up to the second floor balcony he knows so well. It’s been a while since he climbed it, but he thinks he can. He grasps at the holds above his head and pulls himself up, one foothold at a time. As he launches himself over the railing and onto the balcony, he prays to every god he knows that Aelin has left her window unlocked. It doesn’t budge.

Crouched uncomfortably, Rowan lifts his tender knuckles and knocks against the glass of the large window. He watches as Fleetfoot lifts her head, wondering where the knocking is coming from. She spots Rowan and thumps her tail against Aelin’s fluffy comforter, but doesn’t bark or come to greet him. She’s not exactly the best guard dog.

Rowan knocks again, this time a little louder, and he watches as Aelin sleepily rouses from her slumber. He knocks a third time, and Aelin looks around, confused, obviously thinking that he’d woken her from inside the room. He waves from his crouch as she finally locates him on the other side of the glass.

She pads barefoot across the room and unlatches the window, which finally swings open easily.

“Feeling nostalgic?” she asks, her eyes squinting with unreleased laughter.

“Ha ha.” Aelin is the only one laughing as she helps Rowan through the window, but he can’t help but smile at the way her arms circle his waist and pull him towards the bed at the center of the room. “Where’d the front door key go?”

“Oh no, I forgot to put it back? I must have been more tired than I thought…”

He nods, and her arms squeeze his waist tighter, apologizing with her touch. A shiver runs up Rowan’s spine as her warm hands push the hem of his shirt up his back.

“If you’re too tired,” Rowan begins, but his words are muffled by Aelin tugging his shirt up and over his head. “This can wait until tomorrow…” Her fingers splay across his bare chest, and her lips brush against his shoulder, her eyes dark with want as she insists.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” she insists, tilting her chin up towards his.

Rowan lowers his head to hers, and she hums happily as his mouth caresses hers. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lets Aelin lead the way, crawling onto the bed on top of her. Aelin’s hands immediately go for his belt buckle, and he helps her, kicking off his pants one leg at a time as he pushes her nightgown over her head.

Clothes scatter across Aelin’s bedroom floor as the pair climb under the covers. Fleetfoot dodges his flying briefs with a loud huff and slinks under the bed, causing both Aelin and Rowan to laugh. But they aren’t distracted by the dog’s antics for very long. Within seconds, the pair is wrapped up in each other, finally after so long, relishing in the feel of being skin to skin. Rowan’s hands skim up her thighs, and he kisses every inch of her neck and shoulders he can reach. He has every intention of taking his time and worshipping her body, something they haven’t had the privilege of doing in weeks, but Aelin has other thoughts in mind.

She guides his hand between her legs, showing him how much she wants him, moisture dripping onto his fingers before he’s barely even touched her.

“Please, Rowan,” she moans, and Rowan chuckles into her cheek, whispering into her ear with a quiet. “Bossy.”

“You like it,” she says, smirking softly.

He does. He loves when she takes charge. But he doesn’t let it happen for very long. Before she can finish her sentence, Rowan lines himself up with her and slides into her with a deep thrust.

Aelin gasps and wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass as he sits back on his heels and grasps her hips. He’s overwhelmed, as he always is when he first enters Aelin. Warmth spreads through his body as he adjusts their position and pace, lifting her hips off  the mattress to meet him as he kneels in front of her. He loves her this way, splayed out for him, her hair a tangled, golden mess haloed around her head. She breathes heavily with each torturously slow movement of his hips. She bites down on her lip, but releases a too loud, breathy moan regardless.

Rowan shushes her through his chuckles, loving that even after a year, this hasn’t remotely gotten old.

“C’mere.” She reaches out for him, and Rowan is helpless before her commands. He lowers her hips and leans down to kiss her. Fingers tug at his hair, keeping him pressed against her face. Even when their kiss breaks, they’re content to just breathe into each other’s mouths as he moves inside her slowly and deliberately, savoring each moment.

Rowan increases his pace, feeling them both on the brink, Aelin’s nails digging into his back, his lips at her neck – when the doorbell rings.

They both freeze. Rowan stills his hips, and Aelin’s gaze swings to the door.

“Was that our house?” she asks, eyes wide. The doorbell is followed by several knocks.

“Uh, I think so,” Rowan says, glancing at the clock, which now reads 3 am. Who the hell could that be? Fleetfoot pokes her nose out from under the bed and slinks towards the door to sniff under it.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll go away?” Aelin whimpers, grasping his neck tighter. “I’m so close,” she half cries-half laughs. Rowan joins her.

“Me too,” he says, letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

“Just finish quickly,” she says, tilting her hips toward his, and Rowan chuckles into her skin.

Rowan refuses to move as he hears two pairs of footsteps coming down from the third floor. Aelin’s parents.

They listen as the front door opens, but are unable to pick out any words. The door closes just as fast, and he can feel Aelin relax and push her hips against his as her parents make their way back upstairs. He finally gives in and starts moving again, much to both their relief.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Um, Aelin?” Evalin calls from the other side of the door, accompanied with a quick knock, and Rowan has the good sense to roll off to the other side of the bed, grumbling the entire way, upset to be cockblocked as Aelin tosses on her nightgown. Whatever was happening is officially over now. Rowan briefly wonders if it’s a cursed day as Aelin swings her door open.

“Is everything okay?” she asks her mom breathlessly, and Rowan tucks himself further under the blanket, willing his still prominent erection to subside quickly.

Suddenly, two cops emerge, and Aelin crosses her arms over her chest, backing up into the darkness of her room. Rowan would like to throw a robe over her, too, by the way the two cops are looking at her, but he can’t exactly go anywhere right now.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the shorter of the two begins. “But we were notified by your neighbor of a breaking and entering? We wanted your permission to sweep your room for any intruders.”

Rowan groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the pillow as Aelin snorts.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time, officers,” Aelin says politely. “But, uh, there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

Her eyes flick to Rowan’s, who is still under the covers, but based on the state of the pair of them, there’s little question as to what they’ve been up to.

“Let me guess?” the other cop snickers. “Intruder?”

Rowan waves, and Rhoe and Evalin smile as they wave back.

“Rowan, when did you get in?” Rhoe asks, failing to hide his smile behind his hand.

But Rowan’s fairly certain this day could not get any worse. He’s still erect beneath the covers, and completely naked, and his nearly naked girlfriend is being interrogated by the cops and her parents. He wants to die.

“I forgot to leave the key out for my boyfriend,” Aelin explains. “So, he climbed up the trellis into my room.”

The cops apologize for the late-night intrusion, and Rhoe finally laughs fully. “As you were…”

They close the door with a soft click, and Rowan groans, falling back onto the pillow as Rhoe and Evalin head back upstairs, taking Fleetfoot with them.  

“Intruder,” Aelin laughs as she closes her bedroom door. “The Cortlands would never have called the cops.”

Rowan perks up at that. “Oh yeah, who’d they sell to?”

“I don’t kno-oww!” Aelin hisses in pain and clutches at her foot. “Ow, what the hell did I just step on?” she cries again, stumbling her way over to the light switch. “Was that your belt buckle? Shit, that hurt.”

Rowan squints as the bright bulb illuminates the room, and his heart stops as he sees what Aelin holds in her hand. Aelin stares with wonder at the tiny box that he’s managed to keep from her since he purchased it last December. Six months living together, and she never suspected once. In his haste to disrobe earlier, it must have fallen out of his pocket. He forgot it was even in there. He’s a fucking idiot.

Aelin’s jaw drops as she looks from the box up to Rowan, her blue gold eyes swimming with awe and confusion.

“Rowan?”

Her voice sounds so small and timid and so un-Aelin like, and Rowan’s stomach drops. Does she not want this?

“I swear to the gods, it was going to be perfect,” Rowan says, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He watches as Aelin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He closes his eyes and imagines the scene he’d wanted so badly. ”I had it all planned out for today. But, then today happened.” He He sighs loudly.” Six months of waiting… to find your ring on the fucking floor.”

He hates the spike of insecurity and flagellation that fills his brain, ready to convince him he’s useless. He’s gotten better about his negative self-talk over the last year, but sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Six months?” she asks, fiddling with the box in her fingers.

“Yulemas shopping,” Rowan chuckles to himself, but there’s no humor to be found there.

“Rowan.” She repeats his name, nothing more than a whisper from the other side of the room.

“I used to feel like the lesser party in this relationship. And I swear, I don’t feel like that anymore. But, the way this has happened, I’m feeling pretty useless. That, or this proposal is cursed.”

“Can I see it?” she whispers, and Rowan suddenly feels even more nervous, if that were even possible.

He nods, feeling the strain in his throat as it bobs uncomfortably, his throat suddenly dry.

She cracks the box open, and Aelin breathes in sharply as she picks up the emerald, flanked by two smaller diamonds, and laid into a platinum band. It had cost two full months of his paycheck, but he’d seen it and immediately known it was meant to sit on Aelin’s finger for the rest of her life.

She approaches the bed slowly, and his body warms as her awed expression turns into a brilliant smile. He loves when she looks at him like that. Like he’s special. She straddles his lap, bringing one knee to either side of his waist and wraps one arm around his neck, the other cradling the box in her hand still.

Her lips press against this over and over again as she whispers between kisses, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Rowan’s heart pumping wildly as he pulls back to look at her.

“Yeah?” he asks, and she replies quickly.

“Oh yeah.” She grins and kisses him again. “And if you want to do your plan tomorrow, I am all yours,” she says, and Rowan’s heart feels like it’s going to explode of joy.

He slides the ring onto her finger. It looks just as perfect there as he’d imagined, and he can’t resist perssing the newly jeweled hand against his thrumming heartbeat.

“I’ll give it back in the morning,” she says, a small tear trickling down her cheek.

She can’t stop smiling, and neither can Rowan, both of them mumbling “I love you,” over and over as Aelin climbs into his lap to finish what they started earlier in the evening.

~*~

Rowan wakes before Aelin, which is highly unusual, but she did say she was tired. He glances at the glittering gems on her finger and kisses it softly. He can’t believe this beautiful creature is actually going to marry him.

“Mmm,” she smiles back in her sleep, and he can’t resist pressing his lips against hers.

As he distracts her with sleepy kisses, he slides the ring off her finger, and she pouts immediately. “I’ll give it back soon, I promise,” he says softly, and her smile returns. The ring finds its way back into the small velvet box without any problems, and Rowan pulls on clothes from the floor and pockets it immediately. “Coffee?” he whispers into her ear, and Aelin nods, eyes still closed.

Rowan heads downstairs and grabs his bag from his car, and decides to shower before bringing Aelin coffee. After working all day, then sitting in a car for nine hours, and then engaging in sexual activity for most of the night, he could really use a shower. Plus, maybe he can tempt Aelin into joining him, he thinks.

Upstairs, though, Aelin is already in the bathroom and looking worse for wear. Dark circles rim her undereye, and her cheeks looks pale and sweaty. She flushes the toilet and walks slowly to the sink to rinse out her mouth.

Rowan drops his bag from his shoulder and rushes to her. “Aelin? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “I think you might be right about the cursed proposal. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, splashing water onto her ashen face. “A few of my students had this stomach thing, and I thought I escaped it, but…”

She stops and breathe slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes flick to Rowan’s in the mirror, looking disappointed and upset.

“Hey, hey,” he reassures her, pushing back her damp hair from her clammy forehead. “You never have to apologize for getting sick.”

Aelin had also caught the flu from one of her students in January, a terrible cold in March, and strep throat that turned into an ear infection in April. Rowan was extremely grateful she’d already gotten the chicken pox otherwise their May would have been really upsetting. It turns out Aelin’s immune system kind of sucks.

“Good thing is it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug, so we can just push until tomorrow?” she says hopefully.

Rowan kisses the top of her head. “Get back in bed. We’ll worry about that when you’re feeling better.”

Aelin grumbles all the way back to bed, but she must be feeling extremely sick if she followed his directions so quickly. Aelin is one of those suffer in silence such people, who likes to think that if she doesn’t acknowledge not feeling well then she won’t be sick. As if she ignores her problems they’ll cease to exist. Rowan has to admit, when he discovered that he was fairly relieved. He’d thought it only applied to him. Oh how wrong he was. If the fact that she climbs into bed without any hesitation is any indication, she currently feels like shit.

“Who gets sick during the summer?” she complains to herself, but when Rowan comes out of the shower, she’s already fast asleep again.

He wanders downstairs to grab coffee for himself and is only slightly surprised to see the whole family there.

“Uncle Rowan!” Gavin cheers, throwing himself around Rowan’s thighs.

“Hey, bud, you’re getting really tall,” Rowan laughs. “And strong,” he continues, realizing he’s unable to walk with the little boy grasping his legs.

“Where’s Auntie Ae?” Gavin asks, his blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rowan recognizes that look. It’s the look of a man obsessed with Aelin Ashryver. He doesn’t particularly blame the child.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rowan answers the little boy, who immediately looks disappointed.

“Someone wore her out?” Lysandra jests, welcoming Rowan with a warm hug and a nudge to his ribs.

“Very funny.” Rowan says, though his tone lacks any humor.

Aedion snorts. “Come on, it’s a little funny. And a great story. Locked out, and then interrupted by the cops while banging?”

Rhoe chokes on his coffee. “I don’t think I used the word banging.”

“No, you used the words ‘being intimate’ which is somehow much grosser,” Aedion laughs again, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Rowan’s cheeks are burning, he can feel the flames go all the way up to his ears. This is why he’s grateful he and Aelin have their own rental they can check into tomorrow.

He ignores the conversation at the table and instead lets them know Aelin isn’t feeling well.

“So she’s not coming to the park today?” Gavin pouts.

“I don’t think so, but maybe tomorrow?”

Appeased, Gavin rushes off to play with Fleetfoot..

Rowan wishes the family a good time at the park and heads back upstairs, wanting to check in on his sick girlfriend. Wait, no. Not girlfriend. Fiancée. He grins at that.

Upstairs, he climbs into bed next to Aelin’s slumbering form. She immediately curls into his thigh, and his mouth twitches upward when she sighs his name in her sleep. His fingers run through her hair, and he basks in a moment of silent happiness. In sickness and in health, right? While Aelin sleeps, Rowan opens his laptop to see about a hundred emails waiting for him. He answers them dutifully as he sips his coffee. His work only halts when Aelin launches herself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep. He itches to help her, but he’s learned from previous experience that Aelin does not like to be coddled when she’s sick. Instead, he opens her windows to let some fresh air in. The room fills quickly with the crisp scent of salty sea air traveling on a breeze. The shower turns on in the bathroom, and Rowan returns to his never-ending emails while he waits for her to emerge.  A cloud of steam billows around her skin as she opens the door. Her skin has regained some color, a pink flush to her cheeks and her eyes look brighter. “Napping helped?” “How long was I out for?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she curls back up next to him. He glances at his watch. “Only a few hours. How are you feeling?” “Like crap,” she laughs. “You should go downstairs. You do not want to catch this.” “I don’t know,” Rowan says, stroking her cheek. “I wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a few days.” Aelin shivers and nuzzles further into his side. “You’ll mind it when you’re hunched over the toilet.” She sniffs the air and a greyish pallor takes over her complexion. “If nothing else, can you take your coffee cup downstairs. The smell of anything food-related is...” “Not good?” he asks, and as Aelin goes to shake her head, she rushes into the bathroom again and slams the door shut. As loathe as he is to leave her, Aelin is right. He can’t afford to get sick right now. So, Rowan takes his laptop out to the patio with Fleetfoot keep him company as he finishes his work. When Aelin finally makes her way downstairs at the end of the day, she looks significantly better. The whole family sits at the dinner table, and their heads swivel to the disheveled blonde, still wearing her pajamas. “You look like you’re feeling better.” Aelin nods in affirmation and Rowan breathes a sigh of relief that it seems the worst has passed. “Can I make you toast, Fireheart?” Evalin asks her daughter, who wrinkles her nose at the large dinner spread on the table. “No, I need something cold for my throat.” She pats at her neck. “Do we have any ice cream?” Rhoe laughs. “Yeah, she’s feeling better.” “Freezer,” Evalin directs her, and Aelin makes herself a bowl of mint ice cream quickly before taking a seat on Rowan’s knee. Rowan looks at Aelin’s empty ring finger as she eats. He can’t wait for tomorrow. Can’t wait to make it official. ~*~ “Twenty-four-hour bug, my ass,” Aelin frowns as she exits the bathroom the next morning. She’d been so convinced it’d passed when her ice cream stayed down last night. Apparently not. “This is the worst.”

Rowan pats the fluffy comforter next to him, and Aelin crawls on top, cuddling into his side like a cat. It’s been a long time since she felt this sick before. And she had the flu earlier this year. Stupid music students and their germy fingers!

“Rowan,” she whispers, wondering if she should admit what she’s about to admit. “I’m starting to believe in the curse.”

Rowan snorts too loudly, taking her comment as a joke, but she’s not so sure. Three days in a row his plans have gone to shit, and Aelin is starting to feel antsy to have that stunning ring on her finger again. She missed its weight as soon as he pulled it off yesterday, and she’s ready for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Her.

As if he senses her agitation, Rowan drags his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp and playing with the strands like he knows she likes. Her eyes flutter close, and within a few minutes, she’s asleep again. Aelin wakes again in the late afternoon feeling groggy but with an even stomach. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth and heads downstairs, where Rowan is lounging out on the back patio. His computer glasses are perched on his nose as his fingers type a mile a minute, probably fixing some bug that Darrow couldn’t reprogram. His brows are furrowed, and he bites his lip – his concentrating face.

He finally looks up as she approaches the doorway, and she watches as his wrinkled forehead smooths out, his serious face replaced by one of delight. It makes her heart beat faster.

“You must be feeling a lot better than this morning if you’re looking at me like that,” Rowan says, closing his computer and standing to greet her. His arms welcome her with a warm embrace, and she inhales deeply as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her close.

“Is everyone at the park?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow suggestively, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan’s eyes darken.

“What happened to being concerned about me getting sick?” he asks as his fingers trail patterns against the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Who said we had to fuck face-to-face?” Aelin says, tugging his shirt with her hands. “Just bend me over the kitchen island.”

“Aelin,” he groans, pressing his face into the top of her head. She can feel his chest vibrate with laughter against hers, letting her know that her idea is  being rejected. But if the other things moving against her are any indication, he’s not completely disinterested.

“As tempting as that sounds,” he begins, and by the look on his face, she knows he’s been thoroughly tempted, “I was kind of hoping not to be interrupted the next time we do it. If you’re really feeling better, though, maybe we should move into our own place tonight?”  

Aelin grins excitedly. As much as she loves Ashryver Estate, she’s thrilled she and Rowan will have their own place this summer. Where they can be as loud as they want. And desecrate every single surface.

It takes them barely thirty minutes to pack, and Aelin calls her parents to let them know they won’t be there when they return. Aelin assures her parents she feels better, that the bug has run its course, and apologizes for sneaking out while they’re gone.

She and Rowan pull up to the small brown house nearly simultaneously. It’s not on the beach, about a fifteen-minute drive from Aelin’s parents, and about a ten-minute walk to Lysandra and Aedion’s, on a small residential street dotted with lush green trees and bright verdant lawns. They drop their bags in the foyer and immediately wander around the place, taking in the cozy, beach town vibes.

The backyard is perfect, and Rowan opens the screened in porch door for Fleetfoot to run around the wide gated lawn. At the center is a long, narrow pool, which glistens a bright turquoise. Aelin can’t wait to spend her summer lounging in it.

As they make their way back into the house, they finally make their way to the kitchen. Its immaculate marble counters are dotted with decorative bowls of lemons, and Aelin notices Rowan nearly drooling at the Viking double ovens. But what has her attention is right in the middle of the room.

Rowan follows her gaze and his green eyes darken, a shade of forest that she knows means trouble for her. The pair practically race to the kitchen island, and they make good on Aelin’s earlier suggestion, well into the evening.

~*~

Aelin wakes in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling overheated in her own skin. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember what about. She looks down at a dreaming Rowan for comfort, his eyelashes twitching against his tanned cheeks, and feels her heart swell in her chest. She loves this man so much. She can’t believe she’s going to be his wife. Years ago, when Chaol had thrown around the word “marriage,” she’d flinched. Literally. Flinched. Now, she aches to let everyone know that this man is going to be her husband.

She leans down and kisses his bare shoulder. “Rowan,” she whispers against his skin, and he stirs slightly. “Rowan, wake up.”

He startles awake, bolting upright faster than he has any right to do, and looks her over seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, and he exhales quickly.

“Why am I waking up then?” he asks, looking at the clock. It’s barely past 4 am.

“I know you wanted to do your perfect proposal, but…” Rowan’s face pales in the moonlight, and Aelin reaches out to reassure him quickly. “I don’t need a perfect proposal. I knew when we left here last summer that you were it for me. You’re kind and funny, and you understand my terrible humor without making me feel stupid about it.” Rowan smiles at that one, making her stomach flutter. “You’re ambitious and proud, but you have never asked me to change what I want or to make myself bigger or smaller. You just love … me.” He swallows and nods. He does. She knows he does. Which is why, she barrels on, confessing what she’s been ruminating over the last two days in bed.

���I want to marry you so much,” she breathes, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotion. “And even though I don’t know what your plans were, I know this wasn’t even close to what you imagined. But,” she pauses and bites at the skin on her lip as Rowan leans closer. “I can’t imagine us doing anything traditionally, can you?” He shakes his head and rubs his thumb against her bottom lip, unhooking it from her tooth. She smiles at the gesture. “I loved my accidental proposal,” she says more boldly, “And I want to tell everyone I know immediately. I want to have a celebratory dinner with all our friends, and I…” Her voice cracks again as a rogue tear falls from her eye. “…want my ring back.”

“Right now?” Rowan asks, unshed tears in his eyes, and Aelin nods readily. As Rowan crosses the room to the dresser and pulls the small velvet box from his sock, Aelin’s heart starts pounding again. This is really happening.

He shakes his head slightly as he opens the box and pulls out the ring. It gleams under the soft glow of the moon, casting emerald shadows across their white duvet.

“You know, that was a hell of a proposal, Ms. Ashryver.” He smirks, and she cocks her eyebrow in return.

“So what’s your answer, Mr. Whitethorn?”

He pretends to look pensive for a second, before sliding the ring back onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “Yes, I think I’d like to marry you,” he says, leaning close to her lips. “And what about you? You’ll marry me, too?”

“I already said yes,” she whispers. The tension hums between them, both their hearts pounding with the electric current of their promises. “Yes,” she answers again, and Rowan pulls her beneath the blankets with him.

~*~

“You know your initials are going to spell AAW, now, which I find absolutely adorable,” Lysandra says as she takes Aelin’s splayed hand in her grasp. Her eyes narrow in on the new piece of jewelry, examining it like a hawk.

“It’s stunning, Ae,” she concludes, and Aelin can’t help but peer over Lysandra’s shoulder to grin at the man of the hour, taking beers out of their fridge.

“I know,” Aelin says, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much at her family and friends’ enthusiasm over their “very expected” nuptials, as Manon put it.

The doorbell rings, and Aelin attempts to extract herself from the small circle of women who have huddled around her hand to “oo” and “ah,” at her ring, but Rowan is faster. He welcomes her parents into their abode with a wide smile. Evalin and Rhoe drop off giant catering tins filled with food, prepared by Emrys, on the kitchen island.

Rowan throws Aelin a knowing smirk, and her cheeks pink remembering the thorough way they debased that particular part of the house last night.  

Lysandra chuckles softly and whispers in her ear, “I hope you Cloroxed that.”

Aelin’s pink cheeks darken, heating wildly at Lysandra’s knowing smile. She must look shocked, because Lys simply shakes her head and shrugs. “How do you think we got two kids? Please. Aedion and I used to screw on every surface in—”

“Okay!”  Aelin holds up her hand. “I don’t need to know.” She gags, feeling slightly queasy at the image of her brother and his wife going at it. “But yes, we invested in Clorox wipes this summer.”

“Smart girl,” she says, squeezing Aelin’s shoulder lightly.

Aelin rolls her eyes and heads to the island to help her fiancé unpack the food and welcome her parents. They greet her with hugs and kisses, and Evalin can’t stop smiling. Neither can Aelin, though. She’s getting married. To Rowan. She’s never felt this kind of happiness.

When Aelin goes to lift the foil from the food, Rowan pushes her away. “Go, sit. I’ll make you a taco.”

The food smells heavenly. Emrys has outdone himself, Aelin thinks to herself as she takes in the spread of multiple taco fillings and accoutrements. And in a separate Tupperware, just for her, is her favorite potato salad, labeled with her name and the word, “Congratulations!” underneath. She thinks she might cry.

“Grilled adobo chicken with corn salsa, guac, and cheese?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

“Chips?” he asks, and she shakes her head, instead pointing to her special Tupperware. He winks at her and shoos her away, back to entertain everyone as he calls out, “Food’s ready!” A line forms across the island, and Rowan oversees food distribution as Aelin wanders back out to heir friends. She knows what he’s doing. By staying by the food, Rowan doesn’t have to socialize or make small talk. Things he loathes. She doesn’t call him out, letting him retreat to his comfort place of the kitchen as she makes her way out to the screened in porch where most everyone is sitting.

“So, when do we get proposal details?” Elide asks, sipping at her beer. Lorcan frowns, commenting that proposals are private, and Aelin briefly wonders if those two are next in line to walk down the aisle.

She smiles as slides onto the chaise next to an outstretched Dorian, who’s already working on his third beer, and tells a very vague and abridged version of their proposal.

Manon laughs every step of the way, relishing in the ridiculousness of their premature proposal. “And the ring traveled across the room from his pocket, hm? How aggressively was he kicking them off?”

“Manon, my family is here,” Aelin hisses.

“Your family knows what you two were up to in your bedroom all last summer,” Aedion laughs loudly, “And apparently this summer,” he continues, pulling Lysandra into his lap, as the room bursts into laughter at Aelin’s expense.

“I hate you all,” Aelin groans as Rowan walks into the porch, both their plates in hand.

“I hope not,” he says as he hands off the plate to Aelin. “Otherwise, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty awkward…”

“You know I love you,” Aelin says, batting her eyelashes. “You bring me food.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a large bite of his taco. Aelin does the same and nearly moans in satisfaction. It’s so spicy and so good. She really hopes it stays down. The only food she’s had in the last two days has been ice cream and toast.

As she devours her plate, she listens to Elide and Lorcan’s summer plans, nodding and hmming in all the right places. She saved her potato salad for last, because you should always save the best for last, and excitedly plops a piece into her mouth. She chews twice before she spits it back out onto the plate. The whole room silences.

“Sorry,” Aelin apologizes, covering the chewed potato with a napkin. “I think the mayo was off.”

Rowan takes a bite of it himself and cocks his head to the side. “It tastes fine to me. Are you sure you’re not still sick?” he asks, leaning over to feel her forehead. It flushes under his touch, but not because she’s sick. She’s been fine for over twenty-four-hours.

“I’m fine,” Aelin whines. “But that mayo was not.”

Manon opens her mouth and closes it. And then opens it again. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

“No…” Rowan and Aelin reply quickly at the same time, before glancing at each other, and then back at the room filled with their friends and family. Their expressions range from amused to suspicious to horrified to confused, and suddenly Aelin thinks she’s going to be ill all over again.

“That’s not possible,” Aelin comments confidently. There’s no way. She went back on the pill as soon as she went home last summer. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s not a hundred percent sure she actually bled during her last placebo pill week. But she must have, right?

“Aelin?” Rowan asks, his voice unreasonably high. He leans forward and places his hand on her knee, and she looks down at it, placing her hand atop it, before looking back at him.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy.”

“Oh, I’m coming too!” Elide announces, downing the rest of her beer.

Aelin rushes out of the house without saying goodbye to anyone. She assumes Rowan makes some excuse for their departure, but she doesn’t have time to delay. She needs to know and needs to know now. How the hell could this have happened? There must be some other explanation. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel as Rowan hops into the passenger seat, and Elide slides into the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Aelin nods tersely.

“Uh huh,” she replies, but she’s not entirely sure how she feels.

Inside the pharmacy, Aelin pulls three different brands of pregnancy tests. Rowan stands awkwardly beside her, arms crossed, perusing the back of each.

“I don’t know,” he says calmly, but his wild green eyes betray his panic. “Is there a best brand?”

Aelin doesn’t know. She decides to get all three.

As they wait in the check-out line, Elide giggles loudly.

“Aw man,” she places a hand each on Rowan and Aelin. “Remember the last time I ran into you here? You were buying condoms.” Her eyes flick to the pregnancy tests. “Why’d you stop using them?”

“Elide!” Aelin hisses, and Elide grimaces at her tone. Rowan pays quickly and swipes the bag of the counter and returns to the car. She looks at Rowan, his eyes simmering with worry as he looks her over. “The mayo was off… wasn’t it?” she asks again, and Rowan reaches for her hand, taking it in his larger one and shakes his head.  

Aelin speeds home, ignoring everyone as she makes her way into the guest bathroom and pees on every single stick. She’s taking no chances. She sets a three-minute timer on her phone, and slinks against the bathroom door, falling until her butt hits the cold tile of the floor. This was absolutely not the engagement celebration she had anticipated.

Through the door, she can hear Rowan lean against the other side. He must be sitting, too. His head thumps against the wood and she breathes in deeply, eyes screwed closed.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the door, sliding his fingertips through the crack beneath it. Aelin brushes her own against his, and she releases some of the panic she’s been holding in her shoulders at his calming touch.

She stays like that, until her alarm goes off. And she can feel that tension creeping back into her body, which is suddenly frozen with fear.

“I can’t look,” she says.

“You have to look,” Rowan insists through the door.

“I don’t want to,” she groans. “And I don’t have to.” She pauses. “You can.”

She can hear his sharp exhale. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” she says quietly, and she can hear him stand. The doorknob turns and he pushes the door open. Aelin shifts slightly so he can get through, and he walks straight to the counter top where the tests are laid out, getting her pee all over one of the fancy hand towels.

Aelin closes her eyes tightly, thinking that if she closes her eyes, she won’t have to see the result. But of course. She forgot about her ears. Rowan’s breath stays steady as he turns and crouches in front of her.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Aelin’s heart thuds. She knew she was. As soon as Manon said the word, she knew.

“It was those stupid antibiotics when I had strep,” Aelin grumbles, putting her face into her hands. “I knew there was a chance, and I didn’t say anything. Why didn’t I say anything?” This was so not the plan. Her feelings are all over the place. “Rowan, what are we going to do?”

She opens her eyes, shocked to see how close Rowan is to her. He cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently as he probes into her with a loving gaze. It takes her aback for a second. The way he looks at her. Gods, she loves him so much. She blinks and is surprised when a tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it away and kisses it. The small gesture is enough to solidify how Aelin feels.

“I know this isn’t the right time for us. It’s so soon, and you’re in the middle of your schooling, and I’m going to be looking for a new app to work on soon, so… if you don’t a baby right now…” He swallows, his voice pained as he continues forward, and Aelin can’t gasp soon enough. “I’ll support you no matter what—”

“No!” Aelin shakes her head.

“No?” Rowan asks, quirking his head to the side, and Aelin finally lets her tears spill over her cheeks.

“No.” She shakes her head, giving him a watery smile. “This is our baby. I want this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and she nods again, blinking rapidly. She can’t blink the tears away fast enough, so Rowan kisses them away, pressing his lips against her eyes and her cheeks until her crying abates.

The pair kissing in the bathroom don’t even notice when their party departs, too busy being wrapped up in one another.

~*~

Rowan is woken up in the middle of the night, again, by his fiancée. He loves her more than anything, but he’d really enjoy a full night of sleep one of these nights. Preferably without her yelling at him.

“Rowan!” she growls, rousing him from his pleasant dreams, and hoisting him up. Her face is red with anger, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking ready to attack.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you knocked me up! Now we have to have a shotgun wedding!” she yells, louder than she has any right to in the middle of the night.

“Can it really be considered a shotgun wedding if I proposed to you before I knew you were pregnant?” Rowan asks, trying to pull her back down, and immediately regrets it, based on Aelin’s increased anger.

She frowns. “I don’t want to be fat at my wedding.”

Rowan laughs sweetly and pulls Aelin into his arms. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be pregnant.”

Aelin pushes herself out of his grasp and glares. Ok. Wrong thing to say, clearly. “I refuse to be fat at my wedding,” she growls, flopping back onto her pillow. “But if we wait until after we have the baby for me to get my body back… that could be two years from now.” She rolls over and faces him. “I don’t want to wait two years.”

Rowan scoots down until he’s facing her, his legs tangled with her bare ones beneath the covers. “First of all, you’re beautiful, no matter what.” Aelin scoffs, clearly not believing his truth. “But, we don’t have to wait.” He can’t help but kiss her surprised face. “Let’s get married this summer. Here. It’s where I’d want to do it anyway.”

He can see a hundred thoughts racing through Aelin’s blue eyes as she contemplates his proposal.

“Plan a wedding in two months? My mom is going to die.”

“If it’s too much…”

“It’s not too much,” Aelin replies, snuggling closer to him. He runs his hand up the back of her tank top, feeling her skin warm the pads of his fingers. She presses closer to him, her curves against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss her.

“It’ll still be a shotgun wedding,” Rowan says through kisses. “The people who don’t already know will surely figure it out when the baby comes six months later.”

“As long as I look good in photos, I don’t care.”

“Good to know motherhood won’t affect your vanity,” Rowan chuckles, and Aelin gasps.

“Rowan, we’re getting married, and we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan shakes his head. “I know. What have we done?”

~*~

If Rowan thought last summer was a whirlwind, it’s nothing compared to a summer with a pregnant, last minute wedding-planning Aelin. As soon as they told her parents the plan, Aelin was off to the races. They’ve decided to forgo everything traditional, much to Evalin’s distress. The only thing Aelin has insisted upon is Rowan not seeing her wedding dress beforehand, which he has no problem with.

In fact, he’s been fairly uninvolved in the wedding plans, leaving the decisions to Aelin. He found out very quickly that she had strong opinions about flowers and colors and food. The only thing he’s insisted upon participating in is the guest list – which includes only twenty of their closest friends and family.  He knows that number isn’t even a tenth of the amount of people who attended Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding. Aelin is expected to have a high society wedding, but she and Rowan are defying expectations left and right with their lives. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. They stopped asking for approval from anyone the second they got together, and everyone seems to be okay with that.

Rowan smirks as Aelin sighs loudly from the back seat of his car. Her arms are crossed against her chest, pushing up her breasts to make an even larger than usual swell of cleavage. Despite her insecurities, pregnancy looks incredible on Aelin, and Rowan can’t help if his eyes flick to her chest more often these days.

“Stop checking out my rack, Rowan,” Aelin frowns, and he laughs boisterously, tipping his head back in amusement at his grumpy fiancée. “It’s not funny. Look at the road.”

Rowan stares harder. “We’re at a stoplight.”

Aelin’s lips curl into the most adorable pout, and her blue eyes widen.

“You know, you could have driven up here with me,” Rowan says of the empty passenger seat next to him, and Aelin shakes her head.

“No, changing levels is the one thing that makes me queasy,” she explains.

“Which is why you should have driven up here,” Rowan says. “My mom is going to insist that the pregnant girl sit in the front.”

“Adults sit in the front,” Aelin snaps, and Rowan smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are an adult.”

Aelin frowns again. “You know what I mean.”

They drive in silence for a few more seconds until the tension becomes so thick that Rowan has to ask. “Are you nervous about meeting my mom?”

It’s all the prompting Aelin needs to explode. “Yes!” she shouts, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Of course I’m nervous! I’ve stolen her son away from her. You didn’t even go back for Yulemas,” she prattles nervously. Rowan watches as she emphasizes with her hands, a sure sign of Aelin’s stress. It’s completely unfounded, though.

“Aelin, you don’t understand,”  Rowan throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “You made Dora’s dreams come true by dating me, much less marrying me and incubating our child. She loves you.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Incubating?”

Rowan shrugs. “What would you call it?”

“Incubating works,” she replies with a snort, and Rowan can tell he’s had some luck in calming her nerves.

By the time they arrive at the airport, Dora is already waiting on the curb with her bag in her hand. She’s come to spend the whole wedding week, spending time with Rowan and meeting her in-laws before they make it official. Rowan’s been playing it cool, but he is incredibly excited to see his mom.

He hops out of the car and welcomes her with a big hug as soon as he can. Aelin nervously exits the car and waves hello. He watches as Dora’s eyes go wide as she extricates herself from Rowan and throws her arms around Aelin.

“You are even more stunning in person,” Dora says, causing a soft blush to appear on Aelin’s cheeks. “How are you feeling? Sick at all? How are the cravings? How are your studies? Are you teaching at all this summer?”

“Uhhh…”

It’s so rare that Aelin is flustered, that is gives Rowan some sort of sick pleasure that it’s Dora Whitethorn, who makes her nervous. Rowan can’t help but smile as he watches his two favorite women meet each other. As he expected, Dora goes straight for the back seat when it’s time to return to the car, and it’s a fight Aelin loses quickly.

“Told you so,” Rowan says, winking at a disgruntled Aelin, as she buckles herself in.

“Has your son always been so self-righteous?” Aelin asks the white-haired woman making herself comfortable in the back of Rowan’s roomy SUV.

Dora’s green eyes twinkle as she hums. “No, but he’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“Mom!” Rowan can hear her snickering behind him, and Aelin’s eyes widen in joy. There’s nothing she loves more than teasing him. He forgot that these two share that interest.

“It’s true, baby,” Dora laughs. “You’re constantly making things much harder than they should be. Aelin should know what she’s getting herself into.”

Rowan frowns as Aelin laughs harder. “If I get left at the altar I’m blaming you.”

Aelin snorts loudly and puts her hand on her stomach. “As if I’d raise this chicken on my own. No offense, Dora, but I seems really hard. I don’t know how you did it. And so well.”

“Sometimes you get a good egg,” Dora says with a small smile just for Aelin. “Now, tell me all the gossip about everyone who’s going to be at this wedding. I just flew ten hours and am ready to be entertained.”

~*~

“Stop fidgeting,” Manon hisses, swatting Rowan’s hands away from his carefully brushed hair.

“I can’t,” Rowan admits, tugging nervously at a lock of his hair. He’d meant to get a haircut before the big day, but clearly that hadn’t happened, and now his hair is just a smidge too long, falling into his eyes ever so slightly.

Manon glares, her heavily lined eyes throwing him a look that could kill. And he knows she means it. Rowan stands still, taking a deep breath and attempting to center himself as Manon rolls up the sleeves of his light blue blazer.

“How are you this nervous?” Manon asks, quirking her red-painted lips into an amused half-smile. “Dorian is officiating.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rowan groans. How he said yes to that idea, he’ll never know. Aelin must have been in the midst of performing some incredible sexual act for him to agree to that detail. But it seemed too important to her say no. Plus, it’s not like there was anyone else he’d rather do it. He was just… nervous. About what Dorian might potentially say in front of their guests. After all. He’d been there since the very beginning.

“He loves you both,” Manon says with a sigh. “And I do too. Although if you ever use it against me I’ll deny forever.”

“You love Aelin?” Rowan asks, and he watches as his best friend rolls her eyes and hip checks Rowan. She adjusts the thin straps of her navy jumpsuit, smoothing out the silky fabric to assure her minor assault hasn’t messed up her wedding look.

“I just told you I’d deny it.” She places her hands on her hips, examining Rowan up and down, before adjusting the small white pocket square in his blazer. “There. Perfect.” She says with a pat to his chest. “Ready?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

Rowan leads Manon through the gates of Ashryver Playland and lets his worries ease away. He’s not sure why he was ever nervous. He’s about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.

Beside the pier, in the location where Rowan had intended to ask Aelin to marry him, is a small walkway leading out to a platform on the beach. Ten chairs flank either side, filled with smiling, familiar faces. Dorian waits at the center of the platform, beneath a stunning arch of twisting greenery dotted with pale flowers.

As the sun starts to descend, a dark golden haze casts itself over the sand. He watches as it turns to orange and then pink beneath his shadow. And then he knows it’s time.

Rowan smiles as Gavin leads Fleefoot down the aisle, spreading pale flower petals across the platform with his other hand and then takes a seat next to his family, who congratulates him with high fives and cheers. Fleetfoot happily thumps her tail as Rowan gives her a smile, too.

But his attention is diverted immediately as everyone stands to welcome Aelin. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he spots her face. Aelin lifts her chin up toward the colorful tie-dye sky and takes a deep breath. As she takes her first step onto the platform, she smiles the most beautiful smile Rowan’s ever seen. He’s sure his face mirrors hers, and he can’t help but laugh as she scrunches up her nose slightly and sticks her tongue out at him. Gods, she’s perfect.

His eyes never leave her grinning face. When he takes her hands in his, when she stands here facing him, all the way until they say, “I do.” He’s not sure what he was ever worried about, because he barely even hears Dorian’s officiating, too busy being swept up in the turquoise-gold of Aelin’s eyes.

When Dorian announces, “You may kiss the bride,” Rowan doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. If she’s surprised by the exuberance of his kiss, Aelin doesn’t show it. She matches his fervor with equal force, soft lips parting to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths a little too thoroughly for public consumption.

“Now everyone knows how Aelin got pregnant,” Dorian snorts quietly behind him, and Aelin smiles and laughs into Rowan’s mouth.

Seeing his opportunity, Dorian interrupts them before they can go in for another kiss. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Rowan lifts Aelin, scooping her from under her knees, and cradles her against his chest as he bounds off the platform.

“Where are you going?” Dorian yells as Aelin squeals loudly. But Rowan doesn’t care.

He finds the pole he was looking for immediately. Below the pier. Where he first kissed Aelin. He wants to kiss her there as his wife for the first time.

“Rowan!” she gasps as he presses her against the wooden beam, his mouth finding hers quickly. He can feel her soft fingers in his hair, tugging him against her, reciprocating his kiss, making his pulse race just like that very first time.

He pulls away panting, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much,” she whispers. “But if you ruin my dress before we get a picture together, I’ll murder you.”

Rowan laughs and lets her down, and they both kick off their shoes and sink their toes into the sand. He finally lets his eyes trail down her body, taking in her flowing white dress and grins.

“I’m going to be honest, I just looked at the dress for the first time.”

She smacks his shoulder, and he recoils, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfect.”

She tilts her head to the side, letting her loose waves fall over her shoulder. “You’re a sap.”

“A sap you love,” he retorts quickly.

“Gods help us,” Aelin laughs, reaching up to kiss him again. But Rowan has other thoughts in mind. He trails his lips down her neck to her chest, loving the way the neckline of her dress emphasizes it.

“Oy!” Dorian cackles, “Let’s keep it PG. There’s people who want to eat dinner soon.”

Rowan flicks him off. “We’ll meet you there.”

But Aelin grabs his hand and pulls him to follow Dorian.

Their small reception is only a ten minute walk away in the Ashryvers’ back patio. Aelin made the playlist herself, and they covered the pool with a temporary dance floor. Emrys made the dinner – no mayo in anything and sparkling cider to last well into the night.

Rowan walks hand in hand with his bride across the sand, walking the familiar stretch from Playland to the Ashryver Estate. Only this time, everything is different. Nothing is a secret. And they both belong in a world of their own creation – one they’re going to start getting ready to bring a life into.

~*~

“What are you thinking?” Aelin says from her perch on his lap, well into the evening. She runs her fingers through his hair, now disheveled from hours of dancing and too many sips of champagne.

“I’m thinking that I can’t wait until next summer,” Rowan says, cracking a smile at Aelin. She rubs her thumb against his cheek and presses her lips to his.

“The last two summers weren’t crazy enough for you?” she asks. “You want to know what it’s going to be like with an infant in the mix?”

Rowan pales. “Oh my god, Aelin, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Did you forget?” she says, holding back a laugh.

He shakes his head. “No. I just…” He pauses. “What are we going to do with a baby at Playland?”

Aelin laughs, leaning her tired head against his shoulder. “Well, we’ll obviously take them on the Firecoaster, first and foremost. Then the High Flyer. Oh, and the Bumper Cars.”

Rowan can feel his lips turning down into a frown as he imagines his child on the dangerous rides.

“Rowan, I’m kidding,” she assures him, and he squeezes her side, causing her to let out a sharp cackle. “We’ll figure it out,” she finally says quietly. “We always do.”

She tightens her hand around his, and the pair sit together, wrapped up in each other, long after their party has ended and their friends have gone home, telling each other stories of summers to come and memories yet to be made.

~*~

I have loved writing this fic so much, and I don’t truly want to say goodbye. Which is why if you ever want a futuretake with these two, I will be more than happy to take prompts. ALSO, in case you hadn’t seen, I started a new Rowaelin fic called I Don’t Want To Wait (linked the masterlist).

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[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 6

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_> 

In this chapter, the jealousy flare up is strong lol. 

Word count: 2307

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The warning bells you had been hoping to ring sounded around your home a second time, and you stepped down from the tips of your toes that you hadn’t realised you were standing upon and ducked under Brian’s arm, escaping the almost kiss to see who was here.

You guessed it was your mother, knowing her impromptu visits often occurred at night. Or Lily was back from visiting her family and wanted to check in on you as she usually did. However, nothing prepared you for who was standing there.

“Su-Sungjin.”

“My other rival has arrived,” you heard Brian mumble under his breath as he stopped beside you.

The police officer looked at you and then Brian, suddenly growing reserved. He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, Y/N. I should have called ahead of visiting you. I just was worried about you and wanted to check if you were okay. It seems like you are.”

“She is,” Brian confirmed, and you glanced at him hopelessly before shunting him in the stomach and opening your door further.

“Please, come inside.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to intrude when you have a guest here already,” Sungjin mentioned, though he stepped over the threshold far too easily, eying Brian carefully before smiling down at you. “Did you find out about the stalker?”

“Stalker is a bit of a far-fetched term, don’t you think, Constable?” Brian answered before you could, and you noticed the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You knew that Brian, when protective of someone, wasn’t afraid to use his hands if necessary. Jumping in front of him with a light laugh, you then smiled up at Sungjin to try and break their staring war.

Thankfully, it worked. “Have you had dinner at all, Sungjin? I was just about to order in something and can add on another serving for you?”

“I’m sure the busy police officer doesn’t have time to stay for dinner.”

“Interesting that we don’t even know each other and you’re answering for me,” Sungjin rebutted, glowering at the man behind you. “I’m guessing Y/N told you about me?”

“It’s a long story,” you mentioned, wondering just how many more times you’d have to use that line when it came to Brian’s existence. “Dinner?”

“Would love to,” Sungjin agreed.

It was awkward as you waited for the delivery to arrive, glancing between the two men glaring at one another and then at the door hoping for salvation. Whilst you were excited to see Sungjin again, you hadn’t really thought this through.

After all, before he turned up on your doorstep, you were fully committed to kissing the man who firmly placed himself at your side. Then again, you had already day-dreamed about kissing Sungjin multiple times before Brian had even stepped out of your computer.

Your heart and mind were a mess, as was this dinner suggestion. You were relieved when the pizza turned up, diving towards the front door with your purse in hand. Paying the driver a tip, you then returned with the meal, placing it down on the table and spreading it out. “Let’s eat!”

“So, let’s hear about this long story,” Sungjin asked midway through your second piece of pizza, in which you choked upon. Both men thrust their drink towards you, and you looked at their offerings before meekly reaching for your own.

“The story,” Brian repeated, and Sungjin glanced at him curiously. “I guess you want to know who I am.”

“He’s my cousin’s friend!” you blurted out, and Brian gaped at you instantly. “Brian is just staying here because his flat is infested with bugs. You don’t do bugs, right, Brian?”

“Cousin’s friend. Bugs. Uh-huh.” Looking over at Sungjin’s surprised expression, Brian sighed heavily. “That’s me. Brian, the cousin’s friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” Sungjin mentioned, a small relieved smile crossing his lips. “Hopefully it gets fixed soon.”

“Actually, I think it’s going to take a really long time. I might just end up moving in here permanently,” Brian commented with a strained smile, and you clamped your eyes shut with frustration before trying to smile politely at Sungjin.

The police officer smiled warmly back at you and began to eat again.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay too long, happy enough to see you were okay and when you confirmed you hadn’t heard from your strange intruder since Brian had arrived, it placated him enough to head for your front door.

“Dinner was lovely,” he mentioned, and you laughed.

“It was an awkward disaster.”

Sungjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere, if you like.”

“Re-really?”

“Only if you’re free too.”

“She’s going to be reallyyyy busy writing the next story in her trilogy, right, Miss Writer?” Brian added into the conversation, and your mood dampened again with his arrival at your side. Slinging an arm over your shoulder for effect – which worked – Brian smiled all too happily. “So busy that I wonder if she’ll even have time to eat. You know, when she’s stuck up in her worlds, she often forgets to even feed herself. Lucky I’m here, right?”

“I’ll call you!” you managed to tell Sungjin with a wave, before shutting the front door and spinning around to face the remaining man. “Wow! I never expected you to be like this!”

“Surely, you did! I mean, you created me!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And now I’m your cousin’s friend too?! You’re so good with stories, Miss Writer. Do you know what is real life and what isn’t?”

“You’re impossible when you’re jealous.”

“And you invited your hero in here when you had no need to! What are you going to do? Have a moment with him in the kitchen too? Tell him how he’s the only cop for you?!”

“Your bitterness is unfair!” you warned, stalking over to the table to clean up the takeout containers. Brian joined you, stacking the plates and cups you had used and took them over to the sink. You worked in harmony in clearing up the mess before you realised what you had both done. Stopping to watch as Brian vigorously scrubbed at a cup, you reached over for his hand and ceased his actions altogether.

“I panicked.”

“About what exactly? That the man you’ve been pining over since you met him just recently was on your doorstep or the guy you created in your stories was about to kiss you for the first time?”

So it was about to happen. Gulping back your emotions from his admission of the fact, you nodded. “Of both.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Y/N? You can’t play us both.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“I guess that hero of yours makes me the villain for turning up, huh?” he muttered before rinsing off the cup and placing it to the side of the sink, turning on his heel for your guest bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

The following morning, you were the first one up. Binks met you in the living room, winding himself around your legs and mewling for his breakfast. Smiling, you picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. Settling him down by his food mat, you then picked up his bowl and filled it with fresh food before placing it back in front of him. You watched as he ate happily, relaxing into the simple nature of your usual routine.

Without Sungjin or Brian, life sure had been just that – simple.

Yet, you knew you wanted to fill the loneliness in your heart also. It had taken you some time to fall asleep last night, staring at the screen of your laptop at the words To Be Continued over and over. Wondering why Brian kept changing it to that instead of The End had plagued your thoughts all night long.

You had been hoping to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast and discuss it with him but you had gotten up before him. Waiting for over twenty minutes, and making as much noise as you could without being too rude, you finally walked down to the room and rapped your knuckles over the door. “Brian, can I come in?”

No answer.

Knocking a little louder this time, you repeated your question to receive, once more, silence in return. Unlatching the door, you stepped inside to find it empty of his presence.

It all hit you then like a tonne of bricks, and you went through your house from room to room in a blind panic, wondering where he had gone. Finding yourself in your office, you opened the lid to your laptop and hurried to turn it on, waiting to sign in to your account before dashing into your files for your latest story. Opening it, you bounced on the spot as your fears got heightened.

What if Brian had gone back into his world without even saying goodbye?!

You had definitely turned off the device last night before bed, but could he have turned it on and headed back into Captivated? Would he even remember you if he had?

After all the thoughts of insanity you had endured with his sudden arrival in your life, you were now equally despairing his departure. You hadn’t even kissed him yet! Let alone shared a day with him doing all the things you wanted to do. How could he just leave you like this –

“Y/N?”

Spinning around to find Brian behind you in exercise clothes and sweating from a morning run, you let go of your laptop and lurched towards him, wrapping your arms firmly around his waist. Whilst he immediately held your distraught body, he chuckled a little also. “I just went for a run. I don’t care what you say about me, even guys like me stink when we sweat.”

“You’re still here!”

“Of course, I am. Where did you think I was?” Brian asked, and when your sniffling turned to sobs, Brian attempted to pull you away from his body but you gripped on tighter. “You thought I had gone back into the story?”

“What else was I meant to think when you weren’t here, and there was no note?! Especially after last night-”

“That’s why I went for a run, to clear my head,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note. I thought you would sleep in like usual.”

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, shaking your head, your tears spreading around the room and landing upon him in the process. “I shouldn’t be like this over you. I mean, I feel like I’ve known you forever yet you’ve only been here a couple of days and you’re right, I should be more clear with Sungjin, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

Your sentence was caught against his mouth, swift as it pressed upon yours, did it leave. Brian, evidently surprised at his attempt to stop your fevered rambling, cleared his throat before staring down at you for your reaction.

It only took you a second to think about it before you stretched up and coveted his mouth with yours. Unlike his quick peck, you moved in with the intention of savouring this one. Slowly, your mouths pressed together, tasting one another. He was slightly salty, due to the way his skin has perspired from his run and yet you didn’t care, pressing into his body further the longer your lips were attached to his. Your mind swirled with desire, and your heart thumped erratically as a result.

You were kissing Brian Kang.

When writing kissing scenes with him and Charli, albeit there had only been three so far, you had struggled. Just how would Brian Kang be as a kisser? No matter how much you had imagined his style or the way he would caress Charli, this moment in time was unlike anything you had penned. This was an entirely new feeling.

There was a hunger driving his lips now, his hands firmly taking purchase of your hips, drawing you in closer, making you his as much as you had made him yours. The taste to him changed, heating up with how his tongue dipped behind your teeth to greet yours, as if this exchange was something you two had done before. Kissing Brian was new, and yet it felt as if you had been doing it all your life. You were certain you could continue to keep kissing him as well, had you no need for air. However, you pulled away then, gasping in deep breaths, your mind and eyes blown from the experience.

Brian appeared just as dishevelled.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologise for kissing me,” Brian murmured, running his thumb over your now swollen lips. He smiled giddily before looking back at you with bright eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“That was some kiss,” he told you, cupping your cheek within his hand. Leaning in closer again, you felt your breath heighten, moistening your lips for him to take them hostage again. However, he merely kissed your cheek before letting you go entirely. “I’m going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Writer. Our story’s only just begun, and we’re already kissing one another. You’re more dangerous than I thought you’d be for my heart.”

“Why did I create you to say lines like that?!” you groaned as Brian slipped away from you and headed down the hallway towards your bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner to watch his departure, Brian stopped outside the door and glanced back at you, biting his lip before shaking his head and stepped into the bathroom to shower from his run.

Leaning against the threshold for support, you held your heart again.

It was beating in tune for him now.

_________________

Part 7

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