#my grandmother threw a dinner party on the one day off of work I had during finals week

[swissboyhisch]

First Date to First Dance

Pairing: Nathan Bastian x Reader

Summary: A song followed you through your relationship with Nathan, from first date to first dance.

Word Count: 3245

Warnings: Use of Y/N once. Mentions of love, some mentions of a wedding dress and other of nudity. I didn't look up his sister's name, I couldn't find it so I just did a random name. Also swearing.

A/N: This is for the lovely @shinyfalcon4 who is my Hockey Girlies Christmas Fic exchange buddy! I really hope you love this because I loved writing this. @mp0625 for the masterlist :) also unedited so soz for any mistakes.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Never could be sweeter than with you

Finally, winter break came around and your family was preparing for their annual Christmas Party. It was an all day long list of preparations your mother had perfected over the years. Your family’s closest friends, along with some of the Neighbours, were all invited to yours for a fun evening of food and drinking. 

Your mother called you into the kitchen where she was preparing a chicken to go into the oven. “Can you be a sweetheart and get the oven door for me?” 

“Sure Ma.” You turned to do as she asked before closing it once the food was in. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“If you could make your gingerbread fudge, that would be fantastic. Everyone always asks for the recipe.”

The apron was handed to you. A patchwork of different Christmas fabrics your grandmother had made for you when you became old enough to help with the Christmas baking. Just like it was tradition on Christmas Eve in your family. The women of your family prepare the large dinner and things for lunch the following day. 

When you finished your fudge and it was in the fridge chilling, you double-checked with your mum she didn’t need any more help before finding your father and older brother out the front. The pair were setting up the Christmas lights. Due to work, neither hadn’t gotten around to setting them up before today. 

“Hey jellybean,” Your dad grinned when he spotted you rugged up in your winter coat. 

“Need any help?”

Your brother threw a snowball at you. Right at your face. 

“You bitch! Josh, I’m going to kill you.”

“Language,” Your dad chuckled as you took off to chase your brother around. 

You were soon sent inside for being a distraction to your brother. With your mum all good in the kitchen and your dad and brother nearly finished with the Christmas lights, you decide to start getting ready. You had a couple hours but why not get ready early. It meant you'd be ready by the time the Bastian family arrived. 

A pair of new jeans and your favourite, most cozy, Christmas sweater was the outfit choice. Paired with a red clip in your hair to keep your hair out of your face. Simple but cute outfit. By the time you were ready, you heard the doorbell ring through the halls of your home. There was only one guess needed for who was here early. Your neighbours.

“I’ll get it!” You shout as you race to the door. 

The door swung open to reveal the Bastian family. Nate stood with his older siblings, Nick and Natalie, and his parents. All dressed in festive outfits. 

“Welcome, come in!”

As each member passed you, you got a hug. Leaving Nate till last. The pair of you grinned, sharing a hug before closing the door and retreating to your room. There was still another hour until the rest of the guests would most likely arrive. 

“So I was thinking that we could sneak out and go for a drive to look at Christmas lights,” Nate suggested as he took in what you were wearing. It was like you were glowing. 

“Really?”

It wasn’t a secret that you loved Christmas. Your favourite part was going for a drive around your city to look at the lights. Usually Nick, Natalie and your brother would take you two with them for their annual drive. But this year, both you and Nate had gotten your license. 

Nate blushed, “Yeah, I’ll drive. You can sit in the passenger seat with a blanket and hot chocolate. I’ll even let you choose the music.”

“That sounds amazing! Oh my, a perfect night.”

“A perfect first date?” The boy in front of you asked shyly. His voice trailing off more with every syllable. 

“A date?” You whisper. “Really?”

When Nate nodded his head in agreement – too nervous to speak – you hugged him tightly. Blushing and pulling away when you realised that you probably seemed too eager. “I’d, uh, love to go on a date with you.”

Those words washed away all the teen’s nerves. Nate laughed loudly, picking you up and spinning you around. The pair of you stared at each other with wide smiles. Both clearly happy with the moment. You found yourself leaning in, closing the distance between yourself and Nate. 

“Come on you two, come socialise,” Your mother called from the living room. “We haven’t even seen Nathan before you stole him away.”

The sound of your mother killed the moment but that didn’t stop Nate from lacing his fingers with yours and leading the way to your family. He parted for a split second to hug you mum and shake hands with your dad. Your brother gave him a knuckles before Nate returned to your side. 

“Ever the guard dog,” Josh muttered to Nick, his best friend. 

“Always,” he laughed. 

The party was in full swing by the time that you and Nate decided to ditch it and go on your little adventure. While he made you a hot chocolate for your drive, you changed your pants into a pair of pyjama pants. The two of you snuck out and over to his place. After pulling your favourite blanket from his bed and he changed into his pyjamas, you two piled into the car. Off on an adventure. 

“You look comfy,” Nate smiled softly, glancing away from the road for a second to see you snuggled under the blanket, thermos of hot chocolate in hand. 

Under the glow of the nearby house’s Christmas lights, Nate looked so handsome. Just who you’ve come to love over the years of being best friends and neighbours. “I am so happy right now.”

“Me too.”

One of your favourite songs started to play through the radio. The whistling intro to Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros started to float through the speakers. A song you recognised immediately.

“Oh I love this song,” You smile as Nate goes to turn the song up. 

Nate knew this was a favourite song of yours. Having heard it over the years since you had first discovered it. Now as he drove up to the next house on their list, he listened closer to the lyrics. Suddenly it hit him. This was how he felt about you. He parked in front of the house lit up by thousands of little lights. You turned to him as he heard ‘never could be sweeter than with you’ and it all fell into place. You were the one. Even though you weren’t dating, he knew. 

Nate pulled you closer, caressing your face as he felt your uneven breath on his lips. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course,” You grin, closing the distance between you two. Lips moulding together as the song goes into the trumpet part. This song was how you felt about Nate.

Home is wherever I'm with you

Nathan had training today and it was tiring but he had something to look forward to tonight. Tonight was the New Jersey Devils’ Christmas Party. That meant he got to show you off to his teammates. Something he’s never shy of doing. Especially at Christmas. 

Since the two of you had been dating, your love for Christmas blossomed. Which meant it passed on to Nate. It was both of your favourite time of the year now. Every light reminded you of your first date together. Of your anniversary. Your love was at the roots of the festive season.

What was even better was that he was back in New Jersey after the frustrating stint in Seattle with the Kraken. Neither of you felt at home while he was there but as had become the motto getting you through each day was ‘home is wherever I’m with you’. A lyric from what had become their song. It was their way of reminding each other though Seattle wasn’t New Jersey, he had you. 

Nate could hear the music coming from his bathroom. Since moving back to Newark, all he wanted was to be with you 24/7. To come home after a hard training to you somewhere in the apartment. Making it come to life. But you had your own apartment you had to return to every couple of days or when Nate was on a roadie. 

Even now, he could see bits of your spread out in his apartment. A few stray pieces of clothing left on the ground from their sexcapades the other night. Pictures of the couple over the years; their first christmas as a couple, his draft, their first christmas with the team. Even the little things like your keys on the hook, your brush sitting on the couch, the smell of your cookies wafting through the apartment. It wasn’t home without you.

“Nate, is that you?”

Without waiting another second, Nate started to peel off layers of clothes until he was only in his underwear, standing outside the bathroom door. He opened the door and saw your naked form swaying to the music. Eyes closed as you watched your hair. His briefs hit the ground and he slid into the shower behind you.

The familiar whistle echoed through the bathroom. Off the tiles. Then your soft voice sang along with the music. Nate sang along as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Hi baby.”

“Hey, welcome home,” You smiled, spinning around and resting your arms on his shoulders. “How was training?”

He grunted in response. His head tucking into your neck as you lightly ran your fingers up and down his back in a calming matter. The two of you just stood under the running water, listening to the soft music echoing off the tiles.

“That bad?”

“Yeah.”

You sigh lightly, scratching the nape of his neck with your nails. One of his favourite things. “Oh baby.”

“I wanna come home to you every day,” Nate muttered, tightening his grasp on you. 

“What was that?” 

The man took a deep breath, deciding it was finally time to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since he had left for Seattle. One he regretted now asking earlier. “Will you move in with me? I wanna come home to you every day. Just seeing your beautiful smile makes my day a billion times better.” 

“Oh baby, of course I will,” You grin, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. The final chorus was playing as you shared a smile. “Home is wherever I’m with you.”

I never loved one like you.

Christmas was always one of your favourite times of year. Especially since you and Nate got together. This year was like every other. Well maybe expect the fact this year you two were hosting both families. Nate had a game both before and after the big day so you couldn’t travel back to good old Mississauga. But that wasn’t stopping your families. 

Christmas morning and you found yourself in the kitchen with both your mothers, Natalie, Anna (your sister-in-law) and Lila (Nick’s wife). It was a full family affair. Waffles, eggs, bacon, and more all planned for breakfast. All three of you had a mimosa close by as the men of the family hung out in the lounge room watching a random hockey game replay. 

“It’s Christmas, can you guys please put something else on for once?” Nate’s mum sighed, hearing the commentating of the game. 

Without an argument, surprisingly, the guys turn off the tv and put on spotify. Nate hooks it up to the speakers you have running through the house and plays some carols. When breakfast was ready, all of you got comfy around the dining table. 

“Kiddo, can you please pass me the bacon?” Josh asked.

“Here,” you smirk, picking up a single piece and placing it on his outstretched hand. 

“You little shit.”

Your mum sighs, “Can we please just save the fighting for a day? An hour even?”

Instead of annoying your mum even more, you did as your brother asked and grabbed the plate of bacon and passed it over. Not before grabbing your own pieces. Bacon and maple syrup would always be one of your favourite combinations. 

When breakfast was finished, the family made their way into the lounge room, finding themselves sat all around. This year it was Nate’s turn at being “Santa”. Which just meant reading the labels and passing them to who it was for. Slowly, one by one, the large pile of presents under the tree was dispersed to the correct individuals. And soon enough it looked empty under the tree. 

Everyone started opening their presents, words of gratitude shared from one person to another when their gift was revealed. Though you were happily opening your gifts, Nate hadn’t touched his. And he seemed nervous. 

“You okay?” You mumble to him, trying not to alert the families if something was wrong. 

The man just sent you a small smile, “Just want to see you open mine.”

One by one, you opened the pile of presents in front of you. Mum. Dad. Brother. Nate’s Parents. His siblings. A present from each person in the room except one from him. 

“Nate, baby, I don’t see one with your name on it.”

Nate stood up and went back to the tree and grabbed a small gift hidden in the tree, behind to tinsel to conceal it. 

“I found it,” He states handing you the present to unwrap. 

As you slowly unwrapped the small present, Nate sank to one knee. When you looked up at him, realising what’s going on, he grabbed the now unwrapped ring box and opened it. Revealing the gorgeous ring he had picked out just for you. With the help of both of your brothers. 

That’s when you heard the familiar whistle echo through the room and house. Filling it with the notes of your love song. 

“I love you,” Nate begins, his hands shaking with nerves. “The couple years have been a ride, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t want to be on it with anyone else but you. I never loved one like you–”

“Yes,” You interrupt excitedly. You had tears running down your cheeks. Happy ones of course. “I want to marry you. Tomorrow even.”

Nate slid the ring onto the correct finger. Which was shaking with excitement. As soon as he completed the task, you flung yourself at him, tackling him to the ground in a loveful bliss. Just like the laugh he let out. 

“I’ve never loved anyone like you,” You whisper, in time with the song, before pressing your lips to his. The love pouring out as your family all celebrates around you. You were getting married.

Alabama, Arkansas. I do love my ma and pa. Not that way that I do love you.

Mrs Bastian. Who could believe it. Certainly not yourself or Nate. Both of you were still trying to wrap your heads around the fact you two were married. After so long of dating. 

The day had been perfect. From the morning spent getting ready with your loved ones to the moment Nate first saw you in your dress. Yes, he even cried at the sight. Then his speech that made you nearly ruin your make-up (thank god for water proof makeup). So far, it was perfect and you knew the rest of the night would also be perfect.

Here you were with your husband behind the barn doors, waiting on being announced by the DJ. All of the bridal party had already entered the reception tTo a couple party songs. Some of which were a little ridiculous but were a right laugh. Now it was your turn. Well you and Nate’s. Nate pulled you closer, sneaking another kiss. 

“I love you, wifey.”

“I love you too hubby,” You grin, pressing your lips to his once more. 

“Are you ready for this?”

You giggle, “I’m always ready.”

Then you heard the DJ. “Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Bastian!”

The large doors swung open and you two walked in to clapping and cheering. When you reached the dance floor, Nate was sure to spin you around, showing off your white dress for the reception. Then he proceeded to dip you, kissing you in front of all the friends and family that were present. 

“Get some Big Nate!” A voice that sounded awfully like Jack Hughes shouted. 

The pair of you shared a laugh with many others who had heard the boy’s words. Instead of doing the first dance after the food comes out, you both had decided to do it first. It was how you wanted to start off such a great night of celebrating your love. 

“To kick off the long night, the newlyweds will be doing their first dance.”

The familiar whistle started to play and you two wrapped your arms around each other. Anyone who knew the couple knew this was their song. One that has followed them throughout the relationship. 

“Alabama, Aarkansas,” Nate starts to sing quietly as you two sway to the song. 

“I do love my ma and pa,” You continue.

You both smile as you sing the next words. “But not the way that I do love you.”

You come to rest your head on his chest, just listening to him sing to you as you dance. This, ever since you realized this song was your song, was your first dance song. And being in the moment made you know you made the right choice. With the song and Nate. Sure, you knew before this you two would get married. But it made you feel at peace knowing you and Nate were in it for the long run that is life. 

“(Y/N),” Nate spoke, going along with the song but changing the lyrics.

“Nathan.”

“Do you remember that day I took you to see Christmas Lights?”

You couldn’t help but grin at the change of lyrics, “I sure do, you drove me all around town.”

“Well, you looked out the window, admiring every light you saw and pointing out every house you loved, you remember that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, there's something I never told you about that night”

“What didn't you tell me?” You knew the lyrics but every time you and Nat reenact this little part, it always made you grin that cheesy in love smile. Especially with the change he’s made. Hearing Nate speak about falling in love made those damn butterflies come back. Every. Time.

Nate came to cup your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes. “While you were sitting in the passenger seat, with your blanket and drinking your hot chocolate, I was falling deep, deeply in love with you. And I never told you 'til just now.”

“Aww.”

No matter how many times you and Nate heard this song, it will always be your favourite. As the last chorus played, both of you thought back on your relationship. How many times this song happened to be playing at important moments. From the first date to the day he proposed. This song was a way to show your love to each other. The love of your relationship. Exactly what you were doing right now. 

You two sing the last line to each other, encapsulating both of your feelings into those same 7 words. “Home is when I'm alone with you.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens @cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @kajasagmo @linneasblog

[depresseddepot]

I wasn't ready when I was 18 but goddamn am I ready to move out now

[englishstrawbie]

Can we get some more of your marina headcanons? I love getting an insight into your view of them

So, I've had a few of these over the last couple of months and I'm really sorry that I haven't replied to any of them! My head was busy thinking about Serendipity and I never got round to it until now. One of the requests I had was:

I think we could all use a little Marina content to hold us over...do you have any head canons about their first few months in domestic bliss as wives?

...so I've decided to use that as a theme for these ones.

They didn’t have wedding favours, but instead chose to donate money to a charity that supports girls and women who have been the victims of sex trafficking. It had been Maya’s idea as a way of honouring Andrew’s memory and acknowledging his absence from the wedding.

As a wedding gift, Carina gave Maya a necklace that had once been Carina’s grandmother’s which she had been given by her family while she was in Italy.

As a wedding gift, Maya gave Carina bracelet that had four gems in it – each one representing the birthstones of Carina, Andrew, and their mother and father.

The morning after the wedding, Maya woke Carina up with breakfast in bed – and they stayed there for the rest of the day (obviously!)

Carina has a shoebox under the bed that is full of mementos from their wedding – like cards and gift tags, place names, even a copy of the menu that Vic’s parents had printed.

Because of Covid, Carina’s friends and colleagues from the hospital couldn’t attend the wedding so instead they threw them a surprise party at Joe’s a few months later – organised by Amelia and Jo.

Their first fight after they were married was because Carina had to keep reminding Maya to write thank you notes for all the gifts they had received, but Maya kept forgetting (although really Carina knew that she was just putting it off).

Ben convinced Maya that their one month wedding anniversary was a thing (because of course he had done something romantic for Miranda for theirs), so Maya took Carina out to dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date. Carina laughed but thought it was sweet.

When Maya went back to work as a lieutenant instead of as captain, Carina left notes of positive affirmations for her all over the apartment and in Maya’s bag. She also conspired with Travis to leave one in her locker.

Carina has one of their wedding photos in a frame on her desk. Maya has the same photo pinned to the inside of her locker where she used to hang her Olympic medal.

Carina didn’t think about the fact that Maya was running into burning buildings again until the day Maya came home with a burn on her arm. The next day, when Carina dropped Maya off at work, she went marching into the fire station and ordered the rest of the team to make sure they took better care of her wife from now on.

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: Y’all my heart 🥺 ngl I kinda cried as I wrote this

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

“Hi hi are you our grandma?” Rini said with wide eyes, you, Rin and Kauru were outside grabbing the last of the groceries and talking. It was like his mother was frozen in time, they looked exactly like her son when he was a kid, when she was still learning how to raise a tiny human.

She finally realized she was a grandmother because the looks were uncanny. “Yes I’m your grandma.” She replied and she kids ran and hugged her legs. “It’s nice to meet you, we’ve never had a grandma before but we promise to be good grandkids for you.” Rini said and Akira nodded. “What do you mean you never had a grandma before?” She asked the twins, they didn’t see the glint in her eyes. She needs all the information she can get to show her son that she’s not a good mother and he can fight for custody.

“Momma doesn’t talk to her parents. They’re mean and think she’s a dispointment.” Akira chimed in. Obviously the kid met disappointment which made sense. If Rin was a girl she’d probably do the same thing.

“Hey guys guess what grandma got!” Rin walked in, his hands full of groceries. He placed them down and pulled out the pack of the frozen Chuupets. The kids eyes widened and they ran to their dad to hand them a chuupet. “You are only getting one because you haven’t eaten dinner yet.” He said and the kids nodded. After he handed them the chuupet, they ran off. “How’s everything mom.” He looks down to see the shorter woman. “Could be better without your dog and your ex.” She answered and Suna frowned.

“At least try to get along with her? Please. She’s the mother of your grandkids and hopefully we can be together again.” He said hopefully and her eyes widened. “You wanna get back together with her.” She said almost disgusted and Rin sighed. “Yeah mom.” He replied. “You’re gonna regret it.” She hummed and Rin rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me..um...Mrs.Suna..?” You peered from behind the wall you somewhat heard their conversation but that’s a talk for another time, “What.” She raised a brow and Rin facepalmed. “When was the last time you checked the oil of your car? And your brakes?” You asked. “I don’t know. Usually we take it to a mechanic, but we’ve been busy raising someone else’s dog.” She said and eyed her son. “Mechanic? Rin nor Kauru don’t know how to do that?” You asked. “I have a sports car, no way in hell I’m fucking it up.” Rin replied.

“Is it okay for me to change the oil and the brakes? I would hate for you to get into an accident.” You asked. “Accident? You’d probably tinker with my car so I’d crash the next time I use it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. You were beyond confused, “Mom, stop.” Rin scolded and she rolled her eyes.

You left the car as is but made a mental note to ask Kauru for permission to add more oil and fix her brakes.

Other than that conversation you haven’t spoken to her the rest of the day. What bothered you was that she didn’t try to get close to the kids. You sat on the small picnic table in the backyard while Rin was throwing a chew toy across the backyard while his dog, Chewy chased it eagarly. When Rin came to the back yard he whistled causing the dog to turn its head, it stayed frozen as if not believing his owner was truly there. But eventually Rin called him and his ears perked up and he began running and whining at the same time. He tackled Rin and he fell back. Chewy licked his face and Rin was giggling with a big stupid smile on his face, you smiled lightly at the scene and Akira tugged onto your leggings to tell you that Rin was crying.

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion and turned again to see Rin and then you saw it. The way he held on to his dog and a small tear streamed down. “Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy?” He talked and Chewy’s tail wagged. “Alright bud, sit.” He commanded and he sat obediently. You could hear a tapping noise but it was because Chewy was so excited to see his owner. “Chewy meet your brother and sister.” Rin introduced and you started laughing. “What do you mean he’s our brother? He’s a dog.” Rini pointed out, “Same difference.” Rin shrugged and you covered your mouth to stop yourself from snorting.

“Okay get close and tell him to shake. Then shake his hand.” He instructed, Rini was first and gasped when Chewy obeyed. Earlier they got around to playing but they didn’t know their dads dog—I mean brother was trained. Akira did the same thing and she giggled. “Alrighty, Chewy. Meet your new mom.” He introduced you and you stepped back. “Nope, not my son.” You waved off, “Are you really gonna leave him motherless.” Rin pressed, “Yeah mama, he’s our brother you can’t be like that.” Akira whined.

“I just never really liked dogs.” You admitted, “Me neither but he’s my best friend.” Rin said softly. You looked down at the brown dog with curly hair. His tail wagged as his tongue sticker out so adorably. Now you understood why Rin named him Chewy, he looks like Chewbacca. “Nice to meet you, Chewy.” You reached your hand out to pet his head but he jump and rested his paws on your stomach, causing you to lose you balance and fall back. Before you could fall and die from embarrassment, No one other than Rin was there to catch you. “I’m sorry he doesn’t really do that. He’s just too excited.” He said from behind and helped you up. “No it’s fine.” You said and you both stayed quiet.

“So are you gonna continue holding on to my waist or..?”

“Fuck..sorry.” He apologized with flushed cheeks and let go. The kids began scolding their dad’s potty mouth and you hated that feeling in your stomach from when he pulled away.

Rin’s mom looked from the kitchen window and gritted her teeth while scrubbing the pan a little too hard. “Good job, Chewy.” Rini and Akira quietly praised and continued to play with their new brother.

****

“Finally we can talk.” Rin’s mom said and sat at the head of the table, you and Rin both gulped and Kauru sighed. He just wanted to nap. “Okay I can tell without a doubt that those children are Rintarou’s. And it’s nice that they don’t look like you.” Rin’s mom spoke up and you gasped. “If you’re here just to fight then don’t even open your mouth.” Kauru told his wife and she gave a glare. “Okay first of all. Why didn’t you tell my son you were pregnant.” She crossed her arms over your chest and you cuddled with your fingers. “Well Mrs.Suna...like I said over the phone. We had just broken up and I was hurt and afraid. I wasn’t sure if he would support me in keeping them—“ “Well how could you know if you didn’t speak up?” She interrupted but you ignored the jabs she threw. “I also wanted him to continue on with his career, stress free. I guess at the time I still loved him a lot that I didn’t want him to suffer with me. Or else I could have easily filed for child support.” You said and Rin frowned slightly.

“That’s not a good excuse. Rintarou has missed out on so much because you were selfish. You just wanted Rin to go pro for the money.” She accused with a pointed finger. “Mom—stop!” Rin immediately said and Kauru raised his finger to stop his son. “Karin do you know that for sure?” He asked his wife. “Yeah. All she does is party and drink. I think the kids are unsafe under her care. All of her money is wasted on her fake breasts.”

“Ma’am I can assure you that these are real. Ask your son.” You waved off and she gasped before she could open her mouth to utter more stupid shit you said. “With all due respect Mrs. Suna, you don’t know me. You don’t know how I raise my children, you don’t know what I do for a living and you don’t know what I’ve been through. Please before judging me, see how I treat my kids and how I treat your son. I have been nothing but respectful and the least you could do is treat me like a proper guest.” You argued back but she just ignored you and went through her iPad.

Why does she have an iPad? She flips the device over so you and the two Suna men could see and Rin almost spit out his drink. Karin told Kauru to look away and your mouth hung open as she swiped photo after photo of you in revealing lingerie. In some photos you’re wearing a gag and in others you’re chained up but it’s all modeling for Jamie and her line. You looked at your stomach and thighs and you could see those stretch marks.

Even though the world has seen these pictures, you can’t help but feel nervous when Rintarou is looking at them. You weren’t the same athletic girl from highschool, you gained weight, developed stretch marks, and you hate working out. You know you’re beautiful, that’s why you asked Jamie to not edit the photos of you she posted on the web. Your stretch marks and tummy were there for the world to see. But their comments or praise didn’t matter. The only person’s opinion that matters is Rintarou’s. Which is ridiculous to say but, some part of you still wants his approval and to be with him.

“Is this a good example to show your daughter? You want her modeling and showing off her body like a filthy wh—“ “Enough!” Rin smacked the table and stood up. You flinched as well as she did and you began to cry. “You make it seem like I should be ashamed of myself...”

“You should be.”

“Have you told them why we broke up?” You turned to Rin and he saw the tears streaming down. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and say that it’s okay. “No..” he shook his head and you sighed. “You won’t understand unless your son tells you what he did. Everything I did for myself and my children was for a reason. Now if you’d excuse me, I need to go, it’s time for their history lesson.” You wiped your eyes and left the table. Quickly you grabbed your bag with all their supplies and you met them outside. “Come on, time for school!” You called with a fake smile and red eyes. The kids understood to not argue and to just obey.

You sat on the picnic table with your two kids across from you and Chewy was laying on the bench right next to you, with his head on your thighs. “Mama...” Rini interrupted your thoughts, “Yes baby?” You asked and looked up from their lesson plan, “I love you, and you’re the best mom in the world.” He said with a small smile. “I love you more than Rini and you’re the bestest momma in the universe!” Akira chimes in and you chuckled. “I love you guys to infinity and beyond, forever and ever! It’s called unconditional love.” You said and their eyes widened. “Unconditional love...” akira hummed and you nodded.

“Hi Kuroo-san is everything okay?” You asked as you made your way to the patio outside. It was already time for the kids bedtime. “Y/N I’m sorry for informing you last minute but one of the commentators for tomorrow’s game is in the hospital so we were wondering if you could fill in.” He spoke calmly. “I—oh gosh I’m all the way in Hyogo..when does the game start?” You asked.

After going back in forth for tomorrow’s game you hung up after respectfully telling him you weren’t interested in going out on a date. You rubbed your face and looked at the time. The trains have already closed for the day, so you’d have to take your car.

“You good?” Rin asked as soon as you walked back inside. “I need to go in to work tomorrow. Another commentator is in the hospital. Nobody else can fill in.” You said and his eyes widened since it’s a very long drive. “Oh how fantastic, leaving your young children overnight to go work—“

“I’m taking them.” You interrupted the witch and her eyes widened. “What do you mean you’re taking them.” She asked. “They’re my children and I don’t want to leave them with you. I’d rather take them and ask Jamie to watch over them and I’ll come back the day after tomorrow.”

“Y/N...” Suna snapped you out of your rambling and you turned your head to see him. “I’m here now, remember? You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I can take care of them and watch them. I’ve done it before.” He assured. “I’m sorry but I really don’t want them near your mom.” You explained your reasoning. “Tomorrow we’ll be at Kita’s farm all day. They’ll be fine.” He said and patted your head. Without even realizing, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Suna’s torso, his face flushed and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “Thank you. It means a lot.” You mumbled in his chest.

“It’s my job, partner.” He chuckled and you pulled away. “Fist bump?” He asked and presented his closer fist, you giggled and nodded. “Fist bump.” You did the same and your knuckles met. Rin’s mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, walking away to her room.

You took a deep breath as you crossed lanes on the freeway going back home. You wanted nothing more than to stay with your kids or take them with you, but you can’t control everything yourself anymore. You gonna trust Rin.

You made it home by five am since the drive was eight hours but you made it in seven by speeding and automatically fell asleep in Rin’s bed. You decided to take the pull out bed in your office when Rin moved in and he slept in your old master bedroom. But you were too tired to pull it out so you slept in your old bed. You couldn’t help but notice how the pillows smelled like Rin.

His scent definitely changed, he doesn’t use the old spice fragrance from highschool. He now uses something more expensive and more subtle yet manly at the same time. You definitely needed to know what the scent was so you could buy more for him on a birthday or something.

You woke up at around 13:30 to get ready and leave by 15:00. You showered, did your hair and wore the white button up with the green dress pants and a green blazer on top. You slipped on some hot pink heels and some subtle jewelry and made your way. You called your kids and they said they were having a blast, they really missed you and wished you and their grandma were there and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

While Rin’s mom stayed home, her husband worked and Rin took the kids out, she began thinking about the day before.

“You won’t understand unless your son tells you what he did. Everything I did for myself and my children was for a reason.”

Rin’s mom was obviously confused and still annoyed at you. But then Rin sat her down after breakfast, the kids were outside and Kauru was already gone. He explained what he did with his friends and Karin couldn’t help but feel disgusted. If she would have been more involved in his teenage life then she could have prevented this. Prevented minors drinking, prevented her son getting sexually involved with you, and preventing an innocent girl getting hurt.

In reality you should have thrown a full can of coffee at Rin instead of an empty one. You should have cursed him and made him pay child support. That’s what she would do straight up. But you’re not her, and you explained why you did what you did. And she began to understand. “You have a lot of work to do in order to get back in her good grace.” She told her son. “I know I know..” he said softly. “That’s why we’re starting as friends. And eventually I wanna be with her romanticly and marry her. I want to be the man she can rely on and trust again.” He said and her mom smiled.

“I understand, I’ll make sure to apologize when she returns. And I’m rooting for you.” She said and Rin smiled. “Thanks mom.” She stood up and grabbed her bag, “I’m not in the mood to cook. How do burgers sound?” She asked Rin and he nodded. “There’s a place down the street that’s pretty good. I’ll be back in a few.”

Rin’s mother wanted to repent for her actions and she tried thinking of a proper way to apologize. She went into the restaurant to order and everywhere she saw, it explained that the food was made with peanut oil. But that’s what gave it the flavor. That’s why it’s so delicious. She happily payed for the food completely oblivious that her grandson was severely allergic to peanuts.

She arrived home and rounded up the kids. She gave them a kiss on the head and smiled as they showed her their drawings that she could keep. Rin’s mom passed around the burgers so Rin couldn’t see the bag that promoted the peanut oil being a main ingredient and the kids munched.

When Rini took the bite his eyes widened at the deliciousness. Bite after bite and his throat began to feel weird, as well as his stomach. He took a sip of the lemonade and he couldn’t swallow it properly. He began to cough and Rin patted his back confused and he face turned red.

���Rini are you choking?!” Akira asked scared and Rini shook her head. “My stomach hurts—“ he coughed and Rin’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” He quickly ran upstairs to his old bedroom and looked through the bag with Rini’s inhaler and other vitamins. He saw the epipen and ran back out quickly unscrewing it. Rini’s face was turning purple and he continued to cough. Akira was crying and Karin didn’t know what to do. Rin fell to his knees and slammed the pen on his sons thigh. “Are you okay bud. Stay with me please.” Tears prickled his eyes. He seriously fucked up.

Rini’s chest heaved up in down as he tried to catch his breath. Rintarou instructed his mom to call 119 and an ambulance soon came and took Rini away with Rin in the ambulance. Akira was stuck with her grandma driving to the hospital.

Karin was so confused at the situation. And she was worried for her grandson. She tried her best calming the little girl who held the green pig plush and the fox plush in her arms. “Is Rini gonna die?” Akira pouted with watery eyes. “Of course not. Everything is gonna be alright.” She assured.

While all this was going down, you were talking and laughing as you talked about Sendai frogs and their intimating demeanor. You felt a weird feeling in your chest and felt like something was wrong. Your purse and phone was stuck in the lounge locker so you didn’t see the 20+ phone calls and messages you received from Rin.

He was afraid and didn’t know what to do. He really wished you were here by his side. He couldn’t do this alone and realized this is what it’s like being a single parent.

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[broadstbroskis]

thanksgiving | jeff skinner

a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚

-----

Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.

“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”

“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.

Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”

“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”

“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.

“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”

“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.

But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”

“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.

You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”

“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”

“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”

“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.

-----

The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night. 

When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.

“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”

Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”

“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.

“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”

“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”

You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”

He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”

You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”

He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.

Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.

Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.

She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”

“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.

Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!” 

“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”

Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.

“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”

Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”

“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point. 

“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”

You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”

“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.

Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.

Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny.  “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.

Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came. 

“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.

Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”

“You can’t wear that!”

He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”

“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”

Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”

“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night. 

Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.

“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”

-----

“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.

You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey. 

“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”

Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. “Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”

Liam salutes him. “Will do.”

Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.

Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”

You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”

You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”

Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”

You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”

Jeff smiles. “Good.”

You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.

“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.

“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.

“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.

“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”

“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.

“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.

“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.

And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.

Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath. 

It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts. 

It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.

-----

When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.

You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football. 

The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”

“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”

“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”

But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.

“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”

“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”

“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.

He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.

-----

Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”

You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”

Your dad laughs. “Who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”

You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”

“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.

-----

When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.

You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”

“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”

But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”

He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”

That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”

“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy? 

“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”

There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”

Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”

Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”

“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

It Was You (Part Three)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

Surprise! I know it’s late (at least by my standards), but ta-da! Part Three a day early!

Read Part One here, and part two here.

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo​​. This chapter and others will fill the square of ‘fake dating’, and this one specifically fills ‘Christmas Pajamas’. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 2790

Series Warnings: angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

You pushed the image of his wink from your mind as you finished up breakfast while Jensen called Stacy and set up a meeting for the three of you. She sounded particularly excited that he had taken her advice, and more so that you were on board. You spent the rest of the morning goofing off with each other as you normally would, singing along to the radio while you cleaned up from your meal and resting a bit before your meeting. When you decided to hop in the shower, Jensen retreated to his own apartment to freshen up.

You dressed for the cold weather once again, opting for a pair of dark wash jeans and boots with thick socks underneath. You layered yourself with a sweater and your peacoat, opting for a scarf and gloves to shield yourself from the cold, but left your hair down to cover your ears as best it could.

Jensen returned to your apartment about an hour after he’d left before escorting you to his SUV in the garage to shlep you across town to Stacy’s office, where she met you with a warm smile. You’d met her plenty of times before, as Jensen considered her a friend after working with her for so many years.

“Y/n, it’s so great to see you again. You look beautiful.” She gushed, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. “And may I just say, you’re making my job a lot easier today.” She added with a breathy laugh.

She welcomed you and Jensen to take a seat opposite from her at her desk before diving right into the semantics. It was pretty simple – you and Jensen were to start posting even more on social media, even suggesting that you share some old pictures of the two of you from your childhood to reinforce your story. She was okay with Jensen’s suggestion of not announcing a relationship explicitly and said the gossip would be enough to keep up the facade of the two of you being together. Her next idea, though, made you shift a bit in your chair.

“I would love it if we could get some paparazzi shots of the two of you with some PDA at some point. Nothing explicit, of course. Maybe just some hand holding or something, you know, to get the fires going.” She proposed flippantly as she shuffled some papers on her desk.

After you shared a look with Jensen, he shrugged and simply replied, “We’ll see what we can do.”

“Alright, then. Jensen, I’m going to ask you this as this is your decision, but do you feel we need to sign a non-disclosure agreement with Y/n? Normally, I would insist, but seeing as you two are such good friends, I’m not going to.”

Jensen waved his hands, “Not necessary. I trust Y/n with my life, so there’s really no need. She’d never do anything that would warrant one.”

You reassured her as well, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt his career, no matter what. We trust each other to handle this appropriately.”

Stacy seemed satisfied as she nodded and stood to straighten her black blazer, “Well, I think that covers my end of everything. I do think this’ll help. Granted, Jensen is an agent’s dream when it comes to image, really. He’s scandal-free and always has been, but the bachelor title can be weary in the eyes of a casting director at times, particularly for the role of a young father. I’ll keep pushing forward with communications with the producer and I’ll call you when I hear something.”

She reached over her desk as you and Jensen stood from your chairs and shook both of your hands before showing you out and wishing you a good day. As you left her office, Jensen placed his hand on the small of your back. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before numerous times, but when he left it there as you walked down the sidewalk to the parking area, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was just for show now.

....................

The next week was spent in relative normality. You and Jensen spent time together, as you always did, but now being sure to post more frequently to social media. Jared popped over early in the week before his flight back home to Texas so you could fill him in, since if anyone needed to be “in” on the charade, it was him. He’d be the first one calling Jensen if he’d heard any rumors, so he was thankful to be included and happy that it was you and not someone else. Jared understood, for the most part, and empathized with how difficult management could be at times.

“You guys can definitely sell that chemistry you’ve always had, so I think it will work.” Jared shrugged, but you didn’t miss the implication of your shared chemistry with Jensen, causing you to take a long sip of your water as he continued. “I’m not sure how they would’ve suckered some rando into faking it with this guy.” He teased, making Jensen huff in amusement and shove him lightly.

Giggling from your seat in Jensen’s apartment, you delighted in witnessing their brotherly bickering.

Jared stood from the chair at Jensen’s island to bid his farewells, “Well, y’all let me know if I can help in any way. My flight leaves at 5, so I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you guys next week.”

Yours and Jensen’s flight back together to Austin wasn’t until a few days before Christmas and Jared wanted to get home a bit earlier. The two of you would see Jared at his Christmas party before making your way to Dallas, where your families still lived. Jared and Jensen shared a quick hug before Jared scooped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly into his chest, “Now you let me know if I need to kick his ass for anything, you hear me?” he whispered in your ear.

Another laugh escaped you as you poked his side before he gave you a quick peck on the cheek and made for the door, waving as he exited. 

“Alrighty.” Jensen exclaimed, clasping his hands together after he saw Jared off, “I’ve got some plans for us tonight.”

You settled in front of him, gazing up at him with a questioning squint, “Do you now? Do I get to be privy to that information?”

“You sure do. C’mon, let’s go.”

He whisked you out of the door quickly after helping you into your coat. You walked with your arm linked in his, the gesture completely natural at this point in your lives, down the bustling streets of downtown Vancouver as you window shopped and grabbed some coffee at the café before he pulled you to your next stop, the artisanal bakery that made your favorite treats. He grabbed all the necessary ingredients to make hot chocolate and pushed you from counter to counter instructing you to grab whatever your heart desired.

“Tonight, we are cooking an amazing dinner of spaghetti – and yes, before you even ask, I’m making my grandmother’s sauce – and then, we’re getting in our most festive pj’s and having another Christmas movie marathon as we shove our faces full of cookies. Sound like a deal?”

You nudged him with your hip as the basket swung from your arm, “Ackles, you’re a man after my own heart, aren’t you?”

Grabbing a bag of chocolate covered truffles from behind you, he threw them into your basket with a grin, “I’m just trying to woo you, Y/n. Should I be so lucky.”

If only he knew.

After spending way too much on chocolate, decadent candies and other treats, you went back to your apartment to grab your Christmas pajamas that were given to you as a gift last year from Jensen’s parents. They had made the whole family dress up in matching sets for their annual Christmas eve dinner with both of your families, and it made for the most relaxed evening as you all gathered around their outdoor fire-pit for dinner instead of the formal table setting you’d experienced in so many years past as it was a tradition for both sides, with Jensen’s and your parents alternating hosting each year. The pajamas were red and had snowflakes all over them and you decided to grab your polar bear bootie slippers from your closet to bring also. You changed quickly and pulled an oversized shawl around your shoulders before creeping back down the hallway, praying that one of your neighbors didn’t peak out to see a grown woman rushing down the hall in snowflake jammies.

Letting yourself back into Jensen’s apartment, you heard a loud chuckled as soon as you shut the door. He had emerged from the short hallway that led to his bedroom wearing his pair of the same print, but he was barefoot.

“Great minds, huh?” he quipped with a wide smile, still laughing as he ventured into the kitchen.

The two of you made dinner together and ate at his island, talking about all of your family’s traditions for this time of year and gushing about how much you were looking forward to being home for the holiday. You’d head straight to Jared and Gen’s home in Austin from the airport and spend the night there so that you could attend their holiday party and drive to Dallas the next day. You were so excited to see your family, and Jensen’s. They were sort of a package deal, becoming one large family over the years. You adored his parents, and always had. His home was your escape and yours was his, and each set of parents treated the two of you as one of their own. You’d spent many nights having dinner with the Ackles’ and he had a standing invitation at your table, courtesy of both of your parents and your sister. She was fiercely protective of both of you, taking to Jensen as if he was her little brother since he was born. In fact, the shared family tradition of Christmas Eve dinner began because she was afraid that you would miss Jensen too much if you went a few days without seeing him. She threw an enormous fit one evening when you started to cry, and she had it in her mind that it was because you weren’t with your best friend. You were only three, and at the time your sister was six years old, and so the tradition came to last. You would gather together, eat, and open gifts with everyone piled into a small space to exchange. This year, they had elected to do a secret Santa and you were lucky enough to draw Jensen’s mom.

You each finished up your meals and cleaned up the kitchen before plopping down on his large, u-shaped sectional that faced his entertainment center that house a huge TV and showcased his DVDs, record player and collection of albums and 45’s. You were fortunate to live in the same apartment complex as he did, though Jensen’s paychecks were obviously a bit larger than yours. He had refused to allow you to be in a separate building from him when you moved from Texas to Vancouver, so he found one that was secure enough for someone with a bit of fame but wasn’t too overpriced that you couldn’t afford it on your salary. He even offered to pay a portion of your rent to ensure he wouldn’t be too far away, but thankfully this building had worked out for both of you. It had a doorman and was as secure as it could be, so you took the one-bedroom apartment on the same floor as Jensen’s two bedroom. His was larger, but you had a better view in your opinion.

He had set up all of your bounty from the bakery on the coffee table and made a bowl of popcorn, your steaming mugs of hot chocolate nestled between all of the goods.

“C’mere.” He gestured, encouraging you to curl into his side.

He pulled his cell from underneath his leg and snapped a few photos of the two of you smiling for the camera. Then, he grabbed a handful of popcorn and held it to his mouth, taking another picture with it spilling from every corner and cascading toward his lap as you laughed at his funny expression. His eyes were wide as he made a ridiculous face, but it was always one of your favorite sides of him. He had many, to be sure, but that man could make your sides hurt with laughter at any point in time when he was simply carefree and looking to be a jokester. It was one of the many things you loved about him – his ability to make you laugh like no one else could, but he was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. You settled back into your spot underneath his arm, taking the bowl from his hands as he tossed his phone on the cushion next to him and picked up a few stray pieces of popcorn, tossing one at you. You threw it back, but he caught it and pitched it into his mouth with a victorious grin. You rolled your eyes playfully before munching on some yourself. He laid his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressed his lips to your hairline and kissing you on the side of your head.

“You should’ve taken that picture… that would’ve gone over well.” You half joked.

He raised an eyebrow in your direction with an inquisitive glint, “You think? Should we do it?”

Shrugging, you nodded indifferently. Again, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that you were doing, but it would make people talk, so he grabbed his phone once more and repeated the kiss. This time, you smiled but didn’t look directly at the camera, letting your eyes flutter closed until he pulled his mouth away. When you looked up at him through your lashes, you heard another click.

Showing you his screen, he thumbed through the few he’d taken, the last two made you suck in a sharp breath. He left his eyes and mouth slightly open and had a huge smile as his lips attached to the crown of your head, the crinkles around his eyes accentuated slightly and he was looking off into the distance. The last one he took made your heart swell. It looked like two people in love, staring into each other’s eyes. You were both smiling but giving each other such looks of adoration that even you would buy it, and you were in on the rouse.

It was easy to be with him. Your relationship was not give and take, but mutual exchange and the type of comfort you can only have after knowing someone for so many years. He knew you in a way no one else ever would, and you had been through every up and down together. When he’d left for L.A. to pursue acting, it hurt all that much more because it felt like that would all be lost. You were grateful that even after those few years, everything fell back into place as soon as you were near each other again. Success and fame hadn’t changed him, at least the him that you got to know. He was still the same man you’d always known and had matured with, the boyish charm he’d always had and the distinguished charisma that he’d grown into combining into who he was today.

He elected to post the first few photos, captioning them #matchingjammies and #nopopcornforyou @y/i/h, looking for your approval and causing you to chuckle against him before he put his phone down once again. “We’ll save the others.” he mentioned casually.

It wasn’t long before you’d picked your way through as many treats as you could, both satisfied that your sweet tooth had been satiated. About halfway through your second movie, you were resting your eyes once again coiled against him, comforted that everything smelled like Jensen.

It wasn’t until the credits rolled of The Grinch that he noticed you were sleeping. Your head was nestled against his chest, with your knees pulled to you tightly and the blanket tucked beneath your chin.

This time, Jensen scooped you up and carried you to his bedroom, holding you close to his chest and ignoring his spare bed down the hall. He pulled back the covers and tucked you beneath them before removing his button up pajama shirt and climbing in himself, leaving him in his pajama pants and a fitted white t-shirt.

He could have woken you up but, frankly, he didn’t want to. Something told him that he couldn’t bear to have you go home to your apartment, not just yet. He wanted another night of sleeping next to you, of holding you close and feeling you beside him. The thought caused him to wonder, even in his sleepy mind, if he could continue to pretend any longer.

To be continued...

…………………………………………………………………………………………

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Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​

[simpingforthehunt]

Weak Spot

Pairing: Jonah x Reader

Premise: The Hunt finds out about Jonah dating Meyer's adopted daughter.

Masterlist

Requested by: anon

Word count: 1,149

A/N: The scenario that fit best in my mind was Amy's wedding, so Roxy isn't in it but otherwise it's the rest of the Hunt. I surprised myself by finishing this before 1AM, though, lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Jonah had only been a member of The Hunt for a week until he started dating Meyer's adopted daughter. For the sake of the crew, the teens decided to keep it secret from everyone. Y/N, especially, wasn't sure how her father would react and didn't want to hear Harriet yell at them for making a stupid decision. As well, Jonah wanted to get on everyone's good side before their relationship became public.

Getting everyone to like him proved harder than expected, the only ones Jonah felt he could really trust were Mindy and Murray. The married couple were the first to find out about the two, by walking in on them making out, and kept it a secret at their request. Mindy was overjoyed that they were together, but it took time for Murray to warm up to it. More than anything, he wanted the best for both the teens and was unsure that being together in such a dangerous profession was a good idea.

A week before Amy Markowitz's wedding, Y/N and Jonah were over at Mindy and Murray's home for tea. They wanted to talk to the two of them, after noticing the Hunt slowly catching on to their secret.

"They’ll find out soon," Murray said. "It's best if it comes from the two of you."

"We're waiting for the right time," Y/N shrugged. "Don’t want to cause a scene."

"What about Amy's wedding?" Mindy suggested, earning a confused look from everyone. "The two of you can go as a couple. Our friends won't cause a scene in front of all of Amy's guests."

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually, Mindy got them to agree. The hours leading up to the wedding were nerve-wracking. The morning of, Jonah found out he had to recite the Birkat Kohanim in place of his Grandmother. After picking up his suit, he spent the day at the Offerman's getting ready and practicing the blessing. "How are you doing?" 

"I can't get the words down," Jonah threw the prayer sheet down in frustration. "You'd think the last-minute news would cause me to panic and cram it, but nothing is working."

"Something I find always helps me is putting the words to a tune," Y/N told him. "Easier to remember the words and pronunciations."

"Thanks, Y/N," he gave her a small smile. "But trust me when I say no one wants to hear me sing."

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "We have to get going."

"Fuck, already?" Jonah stood up and tied the tie around his neck in a rush. Just as he was about to leave the room, Y/N stopped him and took the tie in her hands.

"It's crooked," she said, adjusting it. Instinctively, Jonah wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling Y/N closer. "Jonah, we're going to be late."

"We'll be fine," he shrugged, smiling cheekily. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't hide her smile. Jonah gave her a quick kiss before pulling apart.

"Ready?"

"I don't think I ever will be." He admitted and followed her to the car. 

The wedding was beautiful, and everything went smoothly. After Jonah butchered the Birkat Kohanim and then managed to save it, the Emcee announced it to be time for dinner. Y/N had sat down at a table with Jonah to eat when Meyer had joined them. "Is there something the two of you would like to tell me?" 

"Uh…" Jonah froze up and looked to his girlfriend for help.

"Yeah, actually," Y/N took a deep breath. It was now or never, and she just wanted to get it done and over with. "Jonah and I are dating, and have been for a couple weeks now." 

Meyer sat there for a minute, silent. His eyes flit between the two of them, increasing their nerves. It felt like a long ten minutes had passed before Meyer said anything. "I'm very happy for both of you. But Jonah… if you hurt her I will not forgive you, my boy."

"I understand," Jonah responded, the nerves somehow increasing. The boy was about to say something else when the band began to play Hava Nagila, and the horah started. They were pulled away from the table to join the dance, kicking off the party.

This was the first time Jonah ever felt connected to the Jewish community and was having a great time with Y/N when Joe and Lonny arrived at the wedding. The men gave updates on the information they found and were about to go back to the party when Harriet waltzed in. In anger, Joe attacked the Nun and everyone moved into a different room. When Harriet yelled at Joe to open the trunk of her car, everyone went outside and found a man tied up looking up at the crew.

Instinctively, Jonah grabbed Y/N's hand and interlocked their fingers. Part of him was still unable to stomach the torture and kidnapping that the Hunt often did. The sight, while not as gruesome as Dieter Zweigelt the day before, still managed to make him feel sick. "Who is that? Is that the Wolf?"

"Not my Wolf," Meyer shook his head.

"Wait a minute," Harriet said, pointing at their interlocked hands. "When the bloody fuck did this happen?"

"A couple weeks ago," Jonah answered, squeezing Y/N's hand.

"Well, break-up," she demanded. "Didn't I just tell you relationships are a weak spot? This is a liability and could put our whole operation in jeopardy."

"Come on, Harriet," Lonny interjected. "They're just kids. Besides, it would be good to let Jonah get a wank job once in a while."

"Lonny!" Everyone yelled at him, causing the actor to put his hands up in surrender.

"I said what I said."

"Let's just go back to the party and enjoy the rest of the night," Meyer suggested. Looking at Joe, he added, "take some time to cool off, too, hm?"

Y/N and Jonah made their way back to the party with Joe and Lonny, leaving Meyer and Harriet to talk alone. "Harriet's right, you know."

"It isn’t anyone's decision to make, but ours," Y/N told Joe, stubbornly. "Look, we aren't breaking up so all of you better get used to it now that it's out in the open."

Y/N pulled Jonah away from the men and brought them back to their table. "That went better than expected."

"I guess you're right." Y/N sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Still stressful."

"Hey, Y/N," Jonah spoke gently. "I love you, and nothing's going to change that."

"I love you, too." she gave him a small smile. "They'll warm up to it, eventually."

Jonah laughed at that and leaned over to kiss her. The Hunt would get used to them dating, no matter how long it takes.

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Jessica!

Title: Twinsane

A/N: Jessie, You already know Burns and I are big fans of your characters and stories, in particular your Leo and Drake. The three of us made our big writing debuts at the same time in the Summer of 2019 and became fast friends that have continued through every high and low we’ve each experienced in our lives. You’ve always been a great and supportive friend with a big heart and a bit of a funny bone. We both hope you have an amazing birthday and we wish you all the best in the coming year.

This story takes place in a universe created by @jessiembruno​.

Palace -- Throne Room

Liam paced the ancient throne room, site of their infant daughter’s upcoming anointing and baptism. Everything seemed to be in place; Regina had made sure of it despite the cast on her arm from her latest sex injury. 

Still, he worried. 

Not because of terrorist threats, not because of Lilyana possibly blowing out her diaper and ruining a $2,000 christening gown. No, he had two concerns: 

His brother and his brother-in-law. 

His wife tried to console him about it, but every time she did, the new father threw his hands up in the air and said, “I don’t want to talk about that stupid pendejo. I just can’t with him --” and the fights they had afterward weren’t worth it.

Leo had passed two kidney stones on the day Lilyana was born. Liam felt bad for him; he really did. Everything he’d heard about passing kidney stones was that it was a truly painful ordeal. 

But Leo, as always, had taken things too far. 

First of all, he’d named them: Rocky and Peter. He referred to them as “the twins,” and everywhere he went, that goddamn jar went with him. It was embarrassing to be somewhere with him in public and then to hear the telltale rattling as he adjusted change in his pocket. 

That was nothing, though, compared to when he’d bought “the twins” a Silver Cross Balmoral pram at the eye-popping price tag of seven grand. It was both nicer and more expensive than Jessica and Liam’s $2,700 Bugaboo by Diesel stroller; Liam had thrown a fit. And not just because Leo had charged them both to Liam’s credit card. 

“We are carting around a royal baby! You spent seven thousand dollars on a grocery cart for your goddamn kidney stones?” 

Leo, puffing out his chest, had merely clutched the jar of medical waste to his heart. “My children are royal adjacent, thank you very much.”  

At least Drake understood that the elder Rys brother was off his rocker, but since Drake flew all the way off the handle every time the subject was mentioned, Liam tried to avoid the inevitable blowups. Just last week, there had been an … incident at a formal dinner.

“Drake, will you watch the boys while I take a piss?” Leo had extended the jar toward the surly dark-haired man. 

“Get those fucken things away from me, Leo! Those were in your fucken dick! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Liam had tried to calm Drake down -- Princess Lesedi looked absolutely horrified at the outburst -- but as usual, Leo just made things worse. 

Huffing loudly, he proclaimed, “Lilyana was in Jessica’s bacon hole, and I don’t hear you complaining about that, Drake. You hold her all the time, but you never take the twins when I ask! I am through with this open favoritism!”

Only Alyssa, quietly intervening and taking the jar, had prevented a full-on brawl from breaking out. But since she started to cry when Drake refused to hold her hand afterward even following a thorough handwashing, the crisis hadn’t really been averted in the end. 

Thinking of Drake only led Liam to ruminate on Mateo, his brother-in-law. Nearly a year before, when the four friends had attended a Yankees game with Jessica’s brothers, Mateo had made a sloppy pass at Alyssa without knowing she was in a relationship. 

Well, to be more precise, he’d actually talked about Alyssa in front of her face, not realizing she spoke Spanish, and told his brother “Alyssa can sit on my face.” 

The only thing that had saved the weekend from devolving into complete anarchy was that Drake didn’t know enough Spanish to translate. But someone -- probably shit-starting Leo -- had explained Mateo’s words to Drake, and now Alyssa’s new husband was out for blood. 

If any of them ruin my little princess’ day, Liam swore to himself, I will murder them. I’m king. I can pardon myself. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom

Lilyana was properly anointed and baptized. At the head table, overlooking the large gathering as he cradled his daughter in his arms, Liam looked over the party with a sigh of relief and scooped up another forkful of chicken tagine. Everything had gone off without a hitch, and now they just needed to feed all these people, hand the princess off to Regina or one of her doting aunts or uncles, and he could spirit his wife away to take his “royal scepter” anywhere she wanted it. 

His eyes tracked to Leo, who was in rapt conversation with Penelope across the room. When Leo pulled the jar out of his pocket, Liam threw back his entire scotch in disgust. 

Jessica, resplendent in a new Ana de Luca original, came back to the table. “God, these fucken people are intolerable, Liam. How much longer --” Her words were cut off when Liam wrapped his hand around her wrist. 

“My love, give our daughter to her grandmother. Te necesito. Ahora,” he added, eyes locked on hers. (I need you. Now.)

She took the baby from his arms and brought Lilyana to Alyssa. “The princess needs some time with her Auntie Lyss.” 

Alyssa smirked as she kissed the infant’s sweet-smelling head. “And the queen needs to get her back blown out?” 

Jessica tossed her hair. “Fuck yeah.” 

Alyssa high-fived her before she walked away. 

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

Palace -- Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

“You’re so gorgeous, love,” Liam grunted, gripping a fistful of Jessica’s hair and tugging her head back, exposing her throat to his lips and teeth. 

She shuddered at the feeling, reaching for his thick length. “We don’t have a lot of time …” 

“We have as much time as it takes.” He unzipped the dress and slid it down her body, admiring the curves that had only become lusher with motherhood. Lowering her to the bed, Liam’s lips moved over Jessica’s breasts and stomach. He toyed with the waistband of her underwear. 

“Liam, please --”

The panties dropped to the ground, and her plea melted into a throaty groan at the first swipe of his tongue. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” 

“Yes, love,” he said against her, working her with his hands and mouth. “Dámelo.” (Give it to me.)

She was still shaking with her release when Liam crawled over her, his rigid cock probing between her thighs. “Now, muñeca.” 

Something crashed against the door. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom 

To his delight, Leo had reunited with Miss Willoughby, his fourth-grade teacher. Though she was no longer as perky as he remembered and had grown an unfortunate goiter, she listened attentively to Leo’s stories about his children. 

She had had a lot of champagne. 

“Do you have a picture?” she asked at last, after Leo had regaled her with the tale of taking Peter and Rocky grocery shopping for the first time. 

“Even better than that.” Leo proudly reached into his jacket pocket. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Miss Willoughby.” 

The teacher shrank back with concern. “Leo … what -- what is that?” 

“They are Rocky and Peter.” He pointed to each stone as he introduced them. “Their birth was excruciating, but it was worth every moment of pain.” 

Miss Willoughby rubbed her misshapen throat lump. “Are those --” 

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Technically they are kidney stones. But the word ‘kid’ is right in there! Love makes a family, Miss Willoughby. Not your status as ‘human.’” He punctuated the last word with finger quotes of disgust.

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

On the other side of the room, Drake’s gaze narrowed on a familiar face. “Devereaux!” he hissed. 

Alyssa looked up from where she had been singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” to Lilyana. “What?” 

“Is that Jess’ fucken brother?” 

She bit her lip. It was Mateo, but no way was she letting Drake get involved in a brawl at the princess’ anointing, for Christ’s sake. “I don’t remember.” 

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t remember’?” 

Waving a breezy hand, Alyssa hastily tried to defuse the situation. “Oh, I was drinking a lot that day.” 

“A lot for you. Not for your average 15-year-old,” he snickered, agreeing. 

To Alyssa’s relief, the man had slipped out of sight. “Well, be that as it may, you should let that Mateo thing go. Everything’s cool.” 

He scowled. “It is not. I know he’s here today! I’m going to find him and kick the shit out of him.” 

-----------

“You should call me Roberta.” 

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Miss Willoughby -- Roberta. I would be delighted to.” 

She set down her flute. “You certainly grew up handsome …” 

Smoothing his blond locks back into place, Leo gave her a rakish grin. “Why, Roberta. How forward of you.” 

“Is there somewhere we can get away?” She reached out and gripped his ass with surprising strength. 

“I guess that depends on how much you’ve had to drink.” 

“The perfect amount.” Her hand slid around to the front, grappling with the front of his pants. 

“Whoooooooa. Well, in that case, yes. We can get away.” 

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

Alyssa handed Lilyana to Drake in another attempt at distraction, nervous about the way he was pacing the room. “Uh, I have to use the bathroom. Can you take the baby?”

He was already cooing at Lilyana, assuaging Alyssa’s nerves until she made out the words. “And Uncle Drake’s gonna beat the fuck out of your Uncle Mateo ... yes, he is! Yes, he is!”

“Drake!” she gritted. 

“Because nofuckingone talks about your Auntie Lyssa like that; no, they do not!” he continued in a singsong voice, ignoring Alyssa completely. 

She rolled her eyes and headed out of the ballroom, content that he at least wouldn’t start any physical fights with a baby in his arms. 

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

Palace -- Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

Jessica sat up with a start, unfortunately bending Liam’s manhood at an awkward angle. He screamed. 

“Who the fuck is at the door?” Her shrewd eyes, trained to find danger, scanned the room. She threw Liam’s jacket on -- their size difference meant it fit her like a gigantic robe -- and grabbed her taser. 

“Love, wait!” Liam struggled up from the bed, wincing at the pain in his dick. 

“Goddammit, Leo!” Jessica screeched upon throwing the door open. 

Her brother-in-law’s bare ass, driving rhythmically toward a faceless someone who was pressed against the opposite wall, greeted her. 

“Jess! Fuck!” Leo slowed. “Sorry, Roberta, hang on.” Continuing to hold her against him as a shield, he craned his head around to look at her. “I’m a little busy right now. What?” 

She slammed the door closed. “Liam, get dressed.” 

“What the fuck is going on?” The king complied, his good mood completely dissipated. 

“Your fucken brother is banging someone outside our door. I’m pretty sure his ass is the crashing sound we heard. His naked ass touched the door. I’m having maintenance replace it tomorrow!” 

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

Palace -- Hallway Outside Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

Leo struggled back into his pants, grateful that his partner had kept her dress on. “Miss W -- Roberta, I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to cut this short. Er, not that anything about me is short, obviously. But I’m pretty sure my brother’s about to come out here --” 

The door flew open. “LEO, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Liam raged. 

“Run!” Leo grabbed Roberta’s hand and took off running down the corridor, jacket in his other hand. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom 

Alyssa hadn’t come back, but the more Drake stared at the man he had noticed earlier, the more he was convinced it was Mateo Garcia. 

That fucker. 

Lilyana had fallen asleep against his chest. He wasn’t going to disturb her or put her in danger, but … 

Drake looked at the abandoned plates of cake on their table. Steadying the baby with his left arm, he picked up a handful of cake and squeezed it experimentally in his fist. Maybe he hadn’t played ball with Liam and Maxwell in a few years, but he still had a decent arm. 

He rose, stalking closer to his target but staying close to the exit for a quick getaway. 

Drake raised his arm and fired. 

The handful of cake exploded against the man’s face. Spluttering, Mateo whipped his head around and roared, “What the fuck was that?” 

Drake and Lilyana slipped out the nearest door, almost colliding with a sweaty Leo, panic in his eyes. 

Leo grabbed Drake’s shoulders, careful to avoid Lilyana’s head. “Drake! We have a crisis on our hands!” 

He listened to Leo with only half his attention; his other ear focused uneasily on the new commotion of screaming and -- was that breaking glass? -- inside the ballroom. 

“So I need you to come on the search mission with me,” Leo finished. 

Drake shook his head to clear it, registering an older woman with a prominent goiter slinking back into the ballroom. “The fuck are you talking about? Did you just finish having sex with that woman?” He jerked a thumb toward Roberta.

The blond man scowled. “I didn’t get to finish, and neither did she, thanks to Jess and Liam’s drama.” 

“But the --” Drake gestured to his neck. 

Leo waved it off. “I hit it from behind. No distracting visuals that way.” 

“You, dickhead!” Drake grimaced. “Thanks for the mental image.” 

“My pleasure. Now, we need to go. Find someone to take the baby. I need you completely focused.” 

“On what? Where the fuck are we going?” 

“Have you not been listening to me? Jesus, Drake! I need you to help me find the twins!” Leo raked his hand through his hair, making it stand on end as his blue eyes burned with obsessive fire. “I took my jacket off when I was nailing Miss Willoughby -- er, Roberta -- and the jar must have fallen out. My children are missing, Drake!” 

Drake nestled Lilyana against his chest and covered one of her ears. “You -- you have lost the fucken plot, Leo. I am not searching for your -- your -- dick rocks!” 

“You were there at their birth, Drake. It hurts me that you take no interest in your godstones.” 

“Stop calling them my ‘godstones’! That is not even a goddamn word --” Drake broke off his rant as Alyssa appeared in the hallway, covered in red. “Jesus Christ! Baby!” He thrust Lilyana into Leo’s waiting arms; the baby woke up and began to cry. “What happened?” 

“Huh? You made the baby cry!” Alyssa went to take Lilyana, but Drake grabbed her.

“Look at you, Devereaux! Where are you bleeding from?” Frantic, he tugged the neckline of her dress aside, exposing her bra. She slapped his hand away. 

“Stop! I’m not bleeding!” 

“But --” He gestured to the bright stain marring her light blue dress. 

She looked down. “Oh, that. Someone dumped gazpacho on me when I was walking through the ballroom.” 

“What?” 

Alyssa pointed. “It’s anarchy in there; didn’t you notice?” 

The men peered into the room. Roughly 40 people, most screaming, flung food at each other, ducking to avoid flying lunch items and using plates and -- in several concerning cases -- overturned tables as shields. 

“What happened?” Leo looked concerned. 

Alyssa noted the guilty look on Drake’s face as she rocked and tried to shush Lilyana. “I think this baby needs to eat. Have you seen Liam or Jess?” 

The question seemed to snap Leo back to reality. “You should look for them, Lyss. Head them off --”

“What do you mean ‘head them off’?” 

But Leo continued, “And in the meantime, Drake and I need to find the twins!” He grabbed a loudly-protesting Drake by the arm and dragged him down the hall. 

A moment after they turned the corner, Alyssa, still rocking the baby, was startled by her voice from behind her. She turned her head to see Liam and Jessica stalking rapidly toward her. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back!” 

Jessica took Lilyana, cuddling her. “Let’s go eat.” Stepping into the ballroom, she shrieked, “What the fuck?” 

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

“I need you to help me file a missing persons report,” Leo said 15 minutes later, after they had repeatedly combed the hallways looking for the jar of kidney stones. “My children are in danger!” 

“Stop calling them your fucken children!” 

Leo pressed his lips together with frustration. “I went through two hours of labor and five minutes of pushing, all for your GODSTONES! The least you can do is help report the twins’ disappearance and bring them back to their Papi Chulo.” 

He was saved from Drake’s wrathful retort by a notification on Drake’s phone. “Oh, no you don’t,” Drake muttered, typing furiously on his keyboard. 

“What are you doing?” Leo huffed impatiently. 

“Someone outbid me for this lure I really want.” Drake finished typing and sucked in a breath. “Ohhhhh shit.” 

“What now?” 

Raking a hand through his hair, Drake extended his phone toward Leo. “Uhhhhh, I think you better look at this.” 

“HOberta69? Drake, don’t buy anything from a seller with that name -- holy shit!” he exclaimed as he looked closer. 

He clicked the link; the phone screen filled with his own image. “Yeah,” video Leo said, “it hurt like a son of a bitch when I pushed these li’l fellers out, but that’s parenthood!” He held up the jar and shook it. “The rascals.” 

Drake covered his face with his palm. “You are so fucken embarrassing.” 

“This fucken kidnapper! I give her the best two-pump-chumpin’ she’s ever had and this is how the old bag repays me? Oh, the fucken humanity! I will hunt her down! I will throw her in the dungeons! I will --”

“She’s basically holding them for ransom,” Drake said reasonably. “Maybe if you message her …” 

But Leo had already clicked the “buy it now” option. “Thank God I still have Liam’s credit card saved to my account.” 

Drake’s eyes widened. “You paid for the dick rocks? With Liam’s credit card? You know he’s gonna fucken kill you?” 

“Calm your tits, Drake.” Leo heaved a heavy sigh. “You and Alyssa haven’t created a family yet. The first lesson you’re gonna learn when the time comes, though, is that parenthood is full of bullshit sacrifice … and Liam is the lucky guy who gets to make that sacrifice.” 

[horrorslashergirl]

A yandere Chromeskull with a reader who grew up in a emotionally neglectful home making her really touch-starved and very accepting of the affection Jesse is offering her. 😊

I don’t know if I made him yandere, but I certainly didn’t. Sorry....

Chromeskull x Reader- Don Julio and Childish Flaws

The black Bentley stopped into the parking lot of an expensive restaurant in Jacksonville and Jesse Cromeans got out, adjusting his Versace black dress-jacket, making sure he was as presentable as ever after all looks were very important to him, the power designer clothes and a Rolex were mind-numbing and people would say he was a narcissist, but like hell would Jesse go for cheap at the corner shops.

Fuck what people think!

It was very amusing to him, because people always threw themselves at him, be it for his status, money, tattoos, or very influential power he had. So, of course, it was funny when they accused him of being a prideful egocentric jerk because the next five minutes they were on their knees sucking on his cock.

He smirked at the memories of having a piggy choke on his cock in a bathroom at a gala party.

Despite all of this, something made him think twice about his life and that had to do at the last rich party that one of his partners in business threw. It all started with discussions about wives and marriage.

Jesse rolled his eye at the word wife. He tried marriage and didn't end well...on his deceased ex-wife's part. Hearing all the men at the party talk about their pregnant wives, following weddings and what-not domestic life made his chest constrict and it wasn't the alcohol.

Talk about a middle-age crisis, but that's what got Jesse to be so thoughtful in the past month.

Everyone was getting married, creating a family, and here he was adjusting his silk tie in the black tinted window of his car.

Before his ex-wife and after, he filled that void with piggies of all type, because you don't want a woman to bicker day and night about where you've been, how was work or simply sticking her nose in your business.

It all changed when each night before he went to sleep and in the morning when he woke up, he would look at the empty side of his California king-sized bed.

Now, he should be nervous, because it wasn't his first date with you, but he wanted to make sure everything is perfect, always put on a good impression, and make sure that your ego is being rubbed on.

Maybe that's the reason why this was the fourth date with you, because all his associates, when they found out about the two of you, have said things that made Jesse feel like a king....a winner.

'She's so young. Way to go, stud!'

'She's twice your age! You lucky bastard.'

'Wish I was in your shoes, man.'

Yes, all those words made Jesse's chest puff with haughtiness.

Back to where we are...After doing a once check-over he walked to the front entrance of the restaurant where you waited for him. He could help, but swallow down as he took in your appearance; a nice black Chanel dress with silver stilettos, make-up, and hair perfectly done.

A true beauty, so much more revigorating than the silicone boosted piggies he used to fuck or kill, of course, killing was the last thing he wanted to do to you, maybe kill your mind with nerve-wracking orgasms, but that's perhaps for later.

"Hello, Jesse." You greeted him with a big smile and he returned it with a toothy grin, walking towards you, then he kissed your cheek, a slight blush on them.

'Shall we?' he signed, and you gripped his arm, the two of you step inside and into a private lounge, drawing the chair out for you to sit on.

"What a gentleman." you said with a cheeky smile.

He sat down opposite from you, and a waiter came in to give the menus, asking what you wanted to drink before you would order food. You went with a Don Julio because this time it was your turn to choose the drink.

'I had this drink just once. Crazy night.' Jesse signed as he looked through the menu. After a little time, you both ordered the same thing, then the drinks arrived and you both cheered for tonight.

"So? How's work?" you asked, taking a small sip of the strong liquor.

Jesse was a little tense because to him work had two meanings; basking in mountains of paperwork or chase down women in skimpy clothes with two twin knives.

'Could have been better.' he signed a little reluctantly, avoiding your gaze.

"I can understand that. I am still working on my novel and I kind of have a writer block. It's like a black void of nothing." you told him with a sigh, noticing that the conversation wasn't going anywhere.

This was awkward and you resumed to spin the alcohol in your glass, trying not to act offended by your date's ignorance.

Jesse cursed himself, noticing that his cold attitude wasn't making you feel any comfortable, so one of his larger hands took one of yours, rubbing your knuckles soothingly, his face into a sad furrow.

'Sorry, doll. I'm not that used to this kind of....dating.' he signed, your eyes observing him more.

Yes, in the past dates you had with him he pretty much told you about the awkwardness of formal dating to say so and you could understand. It was so much different from booty-calls and paying a hooker to jump on your dick.

You figured a man of his status was very confident, but here he was acting like a virgin high-schooler. That thought made you giggle and his gaze bore into your skull.

"Sorry." you apologized with a cough and gave him an assuring smile.

"Remember what I said on our first date? Just be natural, yourself, don't try to please me with all the gentleman act, although it's very sweet of you."

Be himself? If he was acting like his true self he would have the waitresses gutted from throat to groin, and the waiter's dick cut off for giving you a not so professional look.

'It's all new for me.' he signed with a shrug, your hand coming to grasp his, and he did what you told him, brought your hand to his lips that brushed the skin of your hand, making you close your eyes, a content sound escaping your mouth.

Jesse also learned something interesting about you in the past dates, that you were touch starved, the simplest touches of affection making you putty in his arms, from rubbing your shoulders soothingly, to holding your hand and kisses on the cheek, you always leaned on for more, but the dates always ended when things got more interesting.

He broke the loving gesture when the food arrived and you eat in silence, continuing to drink and pretty much have a good time, acting all-natural thanks to the strong drinks that went on and on.

"And like I said, my parents, were always working and the divorce didn't help that much. My grandmother used to raise me more, but she died and I pretty much had to live with the fact that affection is a luxury I cannot afford." you blabbered, taking another sip of your drink, brows furrowing at the thought.

'I can give you that luxury.' Jesse signed, moving his chair closer to you.

That caught your attention. Your past lovers always said you were way too clingy and they needed 'space', so you didn't have that much luck when it came to a stable relationship, and you weren't that desperate to resume to cheap one-night stands that would leave you even more touch-starved in the morning after.

You could feel yourself blush more as Jesse looked with intensity at you.

"Don't make empty promises." you murmured and you squeaked when a hand touched your thigh, thumb brushing your bare skin.

'I am serious. This is our fourth date and I really love your company. You're different.' he signed, and you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously.

"I know, I enjoy spending time with you, Jesse....But, I mean...I am kind of young and perhaps I don't know what I want from life and I certainly don't want to burden you with my childish attitude." you explained, feeling all of sudden more self-conscious.

'I always liked them younger. Far more exciting than the stuck-up hags my age that doesn't have a sense of humor.' he signed with a smirk, making you giggle and automatically move closer to him.

He certainly had a strange and dark sense of humor, but it was growing on you, and for a 40-year-old man he sure acted like a teenager, which was unique.

"I know I can be sometimes clingy..." you whispered, his brown eye moving from your eyes to your lips and back up.

'I certainly don't mind. I love my baby girl to be hungry for his daddy.' he signed ravenously with a cheeky grin and you slapped his shoulder lightly.

"Don't speak like that! You make it sound like I have daddy issue." you muttered, glaring at him, your faces so close to one another.

'You do, princess. But let me tell you, I won't neglect you and everything you want I can get you; clothes, jewelry, cars, luxurious vacations. Just say your price.' he signed slowly.

Maybe he was desperate, but Jesse Cromeans is never desperate, but one thing for sure is that whatever Chromeskull wants, Chromeskull gets.

You hummed in thought, then moved your lips to his ear.

"How about cuddling tonight after this dinner, and maybe watching a home movie? I do need inspiration for my book and there is this new horror movie." you whispered, your hand moving to his black-clad thigh, giving it a squeeze.

Jesse was grinning like he won the lottery, his arms coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You giggled at his childish self, perhaps more so than you.

You poured another two glasses of Don Julio, handing him one.

"For the start of our relationship?" you asked, raising your glass in salute as he did the same.

'For the two of us.'

[fericita-s]

The Princess and the Barbarian

A Helnik tale, rated T.  As Matthias recovers from a gunshot wound, Nina tells him the story of the Princess and the Barbarian. He interrupts a lot as his Fjerdan sensibilities are bothered and the Ravkan propaganda gets to be unbearable.  Thank you @theburnbarreljester​ for beta-ing and for saying volcra can behave however I want them to in this story.

Previous Chapters

Chapter 4

Inessa drank from the goblet her mother had given her, gripping tightly on the stem.  It had a strange smell and wasn’t altogether pleasant, but the Empress had urged her, saying it would help with the private festivities Inessa and the Duke would enjoy that evening.

The Duke. Her husband. 

She looked across the pavilion that had been erected on the riverbank and could see him shaking hands and accepting well wishes from the Ravkan elite.  The structure had been built especially for their wedding, draped in gauzy white lace and alabaster roses which reflected in the clear river below.  Cakes and blinis and lamb shashlyk were piled on tables draped in fabrics bearing the Ravkan crest and the Duke’s coat of arms, all underneath the shade of bowers heavy with peonies and tulips.

But all of the opulence seemed sinister with the Shadow Fold looming on the other side of the river.  It rose impossibly high in the air, a huge mass of roiling darkness and smoke that seemed bound by an invisible barrier.  Inessa tried not to take it as a sign of what was to come in her marriage but it did seem a bad omen.  She took another sip of her drink, beginning to notice how it seemed to unfurl something inside of her.  Loosening how stiffly she was holding herself.

Her husband seemed happy enough, though whether it was about being married to her or about his own gain in status, she couldn’t tell.  It didn’t really matter.  With any luck she could continue to be as free as she had been at the Grand Palace, perhaps even travel to The True Sea and experiment with coastal materials she’d only read about.  

The Duke had been bearable during the wedding rite and all of the parties leading up to it, though barely.  He’d lavished her with opulent jewels and luxurious furs and a set of finely made dishes painted with her likeness which seemed more like a way for him to brandish his wealth than as true gifts.  

At least there wouldn’t be a bedding ceremony like in her grandmother’s day or The Bruderov like her parents’.  Her brother had declined to continue that tradition of kidnapping the bride at his wedding, saying his sweet wife could not bear to be parted from him even for the amusement of the guests.  He had served the finest kvas and no one complained about missing the traditional ransom exchange, a way of remembering when Fjerdans used to drag Ravkan women back to their tundra to build and work and bear children unless given a sufficient payment.  Now the barbarians seemed content to eat putrid fish, befriend wolves, and worship ash trees.  They rarely trespassed south of the border.

She was wondering how blackweed or sea kelp would feel, how she might graft them into the hull of a ship or the lining of a dive suit to increase insulation when strong arms grabbed her from behind, lifting her so quickly that her glass goblet fell to the floor and smashed into shards on the wooden platform. Guests turned and she saw their looks of surprise and amusement before she was thrown roughly across the back of a horse, no more gracefully than the dry goods delivery man might load a sack of flour. 

“What are you doing? Stop!” she shouted, but the gathered crowd just laughed.

She heard a man call out “Someone’s kidnapped your bride, Duke, better get that ransom ready!” and then a woman’s voice “Oh I didn’t think we’d have The Bruderov! What a treat!”

The man who had thrown her across the horse didn’t respond except to leap up behind her, grab hold of her waist with one hand and the reins with the other.  Then they were galloping up the embankment and away from the reception. Thunder was growling in the distance and she hoped she could be exchanged before a downpour. She thought of her husband down below, no doubt enjoying this entertainment, and thought she might hate him.  Of course he’d want a chance to display his wealth with a show of coin.

Her captor was dressed for the role of barbarian.  He had on leather pants with metal fastenings and Inessa could see knives strapped to his waist and thigh. His long blonde hair was bound in several scattered braids and his beard was full and slightly darker.  He was wearing boots and a bearskin cloak on his tall broad frame and she thought this must be what a bear smelled like - earth and sweat and crushed pine.  He’d brought them to the crest of the hill above the river and spoke to her in Fjerdan as he roughly pulled her down from the horse.

“Be still.  Be silent.  And watch.”

“There’s no need to silence me, I know what this is.” Inessa licked her lips, frustrated that her words seemed slower in leaving her body than she could think them, annoyed with her mother for suggesting she drink so deeply at dinner.

“You speak Fjerdan?”

“I speak six languages.  It’s part of my job.” 

“Your job.  To be your kingdom’s whore?”

“I - “ but her retort to his insolence was cut short with the repeating sound of thunder and the piercing cries of something not quite human.

The volcra were coming out of the Shadow Fold.

Even from a distance, Inessa could see their sharp teeth and smell the foulness coming from them.  The wedding guests were screaming and running but the volcra swooped down and ripped arms and legs and slashed across faces.  Blood was running into the clear river below, making the wooden platform slick.  People were slipping in it, panicking as they tried to escape the swooping attacks.  Inessa saw her father put an arm around her mother and then both of them fall, skewered by the long talon of a volcra who bit into her mother’s middle.

Inessa fell to her knees and covered her mouth, feeling like she was doing everything too slowly, that everything was happening too fast.  The barbarian grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back to her feet.

“You know what this is? Who is doing this? Who controls this?” 

“No - I don’t know,” she said, strangling on the words.

“You said you know what this was.”

“I thought - I meant you.  I know my husband hired you to kidnap me for The Bruderov.”

The barbarian looked at her blankly. “I do nothing for Ravkans. I seek the truth of this abomination.”  He gestured toward the Shadow Fold and Inessa looked at the carnage below.  She avoided looking at the place where her parents had fallen but in turning saw the Duke’s head on top of one of the bowers, a trail of blood down the once-white flowers.

“I have no idea what this is,” she said, barely a whisper.

The volcra were still swooping down below but one tilted its head at an impossible angle, looking towards their vantage point. 

The barbarian didn’t say anything, just threw her on the horse once more and then mounted behind her.  She clutched at his thighs so she wouldn’t fall off and felt him press his chest against her back.  The smell of the volcra seemed to be getting closer and without considering she pressed both of her hands against his legs more firmly and called to the leather, called to the individual molecules that made it up, making the material fuse together so tightly that it would be impermeable.  She felt him breath sharply where they were joined at her back and she moved her hands to his furs as well, repeating the process.

He was urging his horse at a fast gallop as they continued through the dense forest.  Branches began ripping at her dress and she tried to summon the same force to protect herself but the heaviness that had been weighing down her words and made her hands fall limply.  The barbarian snaked a hand around her waist and gripped her tighter.  She let her body fall against him.  As her thoughts continued to slow and her eyelids grew heavy, she gripped his legs and focused on his broad chest against her back, his hand anchoring her, instead of the receding shrieks and the image of her parents dead and dying. 

Inessa woke to him pulling her roughly off of the horse.  She stumbled and then fell to the ground.  The barbarian began to build a fire and then, when the first sparks had caught, took off his cloak and his pants and threw them in the fire. 

“None of your witchcraft, that’s what brought this darkness to the edge of our land.  Now take off your dress.”

[mopeytropey]

skip the beer, pour the whiskey 

a beer buds series: chapter 7 (or as @orangeyouglad8 and I have coined it: The Separation)

Available on AO3 at the link above or below the cut: 

Timeline: The Separation -- this falls within the span of time during which Clarke and Lexa were not speaking as they dealt with the fallout of having crossed a major boundary in their friendship (chapter 5 of 'apu'). Lexa has the sads and Lincoln, as always, is lovely.

Beer: glass of bourbon on the rocks  ::: Lexa is awash in contradictions.

She tends to find indecisiveness in others frustrating; recognizing the trait in herself is intolerable.

She has suffered this recent truth about herself for months—feeling inept at choosing a path and toeing a line between a dual existence.

Loyalty. Truth. Stay. Leave. Costia. Clarke.

In the absence of Clarke, she is further paralyzed. Lexa has spent the better part of November wallowing in the consequences of her inaction. Obstinate loyalty has caused her to lose Clarke, leaving her tethered to Costia by her own hand.

In a cruel twist, Costia spends more time at home, worrying over Lexa’s wellbeing while her students prepare for their finals during the early weeks of December. The extra care and concern, brief hugs and soft looks, only makes Lexa feel worse.

She’s agreed to Lincoln cooking her another meal, in a moment of weakness, and each step she takes towards his apartment is heavy with regret. She doesn’t wish to see friendly, familiar faces. She doesn’t deserve their kindness. Not even the prospect of time spent in Lincoln’s company has sounded appealing in the last month. Lexa has been hermitting away for weeks—mourning the loss of Clarke’s friendship and throwing herself a spectacular pity party.

At first, it was merely Clarke’s shift in tone. She had turned stringent, detached, employing the professional air of a work colleague. Her responses to Lexa’s texts lost all their effusive flair, cooling by degrees until they ended entirely. The message was clear: Lexa had said too much, showed her hand, and scared Clarke away.

“Hey.” Lincoln answers the door with a meager smile. Not the bright beam of light that he so often wears in Lexa’s presence but something kind and cautious.

“Hi.”

They engage in a brief, one-arm hug as Lexa crosses the threshold into Lincoln’s warm and fragrant apartment. She holds a peppermint tea in one hand, having stopped for something to keep her warm on her walk. She’s started frequenting a coffee shop closer to her apartment, not purely for convenience but by intention. Avoiding the more familiar shop by the water feels like adhering to some silent set of boundaries that Clarke has put in place.

“It smells good in here,” she tells Lincoln while slipping out of her shoes by the door and setting down her tea to remove her coat and hat.

“Pot roast and potatoes.”

Comfort food.

Lexa finds her smile for the first time in weeks, and Lincoln squeezes a hand to her shoulder before returning to his kitchen. She follows behind with her tea, running her fingers through the curls that have been flattened beneath her winter hat.

When Lexa was newly fostered by Gustus, he’d attempted a welcoming, home-cooked meal. The pot roast was tough and sinewy, the potatoes undercooked and flavorless. Lexa had never felt so utterly cared for, filling her plate no less than three times. Over the years, she, Anya, and Gus—Lincoln too, for how often he would find himself at their kitchen table—worked to improve the recipe together. They studied spice blends, cuts of meat, and countless cooking videos. Even their perpetual culinary failures were communal, familial. Eventually, it evolved into a cherished family favorite that Lexa directly associates with the comfort and safety of home. It remains the one meal her father is capable of preparing with relative success to this day.  

“Thanks for cooking.”

“I’m glad you came over,” Lincoln smiles at her from the stove. He doesn’t say finally, though she feels the implication.

Lincoln has continuously attempted to see her, despite Lexa’s refusal to socialize. Passing conversations at work and random text messages have been their only contact for almost a month, but Lincoln never stopped reaching out to her. She wonders if anything might have gone differently had she not eventually given up on repairing things with Clarke.

When days without contact turned into weeks, Lexa panicked. As the weeks stacked into a month, she lost all hope for restoring her friendship with Clarke.

It’s the space she wants, Lexa keeps telling herself. Further engagement would only push Clarke farther away.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lincoln is already drinking something from a beer glass but opens the fridge as he sips. “Octavia just restocked me with a bunch of shit I haven’t tried yet.”

“Uh, sure. Just … surprise me,” Lexa shrugs.

Incapable of making decisions. Even for the sake of alcohol. Lexa grinds her jaw at her own vacillating shortcomings: infuriating.

“You got it.” Lincoln works on making his selection while Lexa finishes sipping her tea, hoping it will calm her, and deposits her paper cup into the trash bin when she’s through.

“Actually, do you have any whiskey?”

Lincoln is chuckling as he abandons the fridge, leading them out of the kitchen. “Say no more.”

He stops beside a fully stocked drinks cart—mid century design of stained walnut with dull, brassy rails and casters. Lexa recognizes it immediately. “Is this the same cart from your moms’ house?” She runs a finger along one of the slender rails while examining its well-preserved design.

“Yep. The one thing I was allowed to take with me when I moved up here,” Lincoln grins proudly.

Lexa can feel the ghost of another smile. “I’m surprised Alice allowed it.”

“She practically wept when we loaded it onto the moving truck, but you know Rosa has a hard time saying no to her mijo.” His beaming smile returns, dimples and all, and Lexa rolls her eyes.

“It is an exceptional piece of furniture.”

“I swore to care for it like a firstborn child.”

Lexa smiles again, examining the bottles of liquor. “They’re still in New York?”

“Oh, moms are never leaving Carol Gardens, you know that. I think that house belonged to Alice’s great grandmother or something.”

Lexa lapses into fond memories of Lincoln’s childhood home—a stark difference from the foster families and group homes he’d previously survived in his younger years. Rosa and Alice were generous, kind, and gracious caretakers from the start. Eager to become parents and intent on making Lincoln feel safe and supported, they never gave up in spite of his ingrained mistrust. Their unconditional love and acceptance had been so unexpected and surreal, Lincoln spent the first six months of his stay with them waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That party you threw over winter break freshman year.” Lexa smiles fondly at the recollection.

“Oh my god, I was grounded for an eternity.”

“Anya and I were afraid to show our faces for weeks after that.”

Lincoln tsks her recollection and rolls his eyes. “As if you two could ever do wrong in their eyes.”

“Did you go back for Thanksgiving?”

Lincoln uncharacteristically balks, his gaze falling to the collection of liquor bottles that sit on the drinks cart. “Uh, no. I’m taking O to New York for a few days after Christmas so she can meet Alice and Rosa, but we, uh, we went to—Octavia never really spends holidays with her family because she prefers the Griffins, you know, and we usually all just go to, uh—”    

He can’t even bring himself to utter her name, and it still feels like a punch to Lexa’s sternum.

“You can say her name,” Lexa tries for nonchalance, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and smiling unsurely as she furthers the lie: “I’m not going to break apart or anything.”

“Right.” Lincoln clears his throat. “Anyway, Clarke hosts this little friends’ gathering every year at her place. You know how she likes to cook.”

“Right.” Lexa nods swiftly, trying desperately not to think about all of the other wonderful things about Clarke that make her disproportionately likable, not least of all her passion for food.

“How was your holiday? You were with Costia’s aunt?”

“Yes.” Her entire body feels rigid; a forced exhale does little to ease the tension. “It was … nice. Her aunt and uncle are great people.”

“Well, we missed you.” He offers hopefulness that Lexa doesn’t dare cling to. “Next year.”

She swallows roughly, unable to conjure a valid response, and hoists a bottle from the top tray of Lincoln’s cart. “I’ll try this one.”

Lincoln’s guarded smile is back, and Lexa wishes she weren’t the cause of it. “Let me get you some ice.” He reaches to a lower shelf for a glass. “Unless you want it neat?”

“No, I’ll take some ice. Thank you.”

Lincoln leaves her for the kitchen just as Gus emerges from the bedroom with a yawning stroll towards the couch. She is a giant ball of elegant, grey fur. Lexa follows her movements and plops onto a sofa cushion just as Gus leaps gracefully atop the armrest opposite.

“Are you keeping your distance now too?”

Gus watches her for a moment, calculating. It takes only the extension of her hand across the cushion for the cat to approach, nudging her nose into Lexa’s palm a moment later. She feels settled by Gus’s presence instantly. By the time Lincoln returns with her drink, she’s been lulled by loud purring and the downy fur between her fingers.

:::

Dinner is exceptionally prepared, and Lexa feels infinitely better with a full stomach. She and Lincoln talk of New York, and family, and the changing seasons. He’s being careful with her still, avoidant out of kindness and caution, but she knows there are things he wants to say.

On the couch after dinner, with Gus in her lap and a second whiskey sitting on the table beside her, Lexa finally makes a decision. She tells Lincoln the truth.

“I think I scared her off.”

Lincoln practically jolts at his end of the sofa when he realizes what subject Lexa is broaching. He has switched to whiskey as well—in solidarity, he’d said—and the two of them sip quietly for a few moments while Lincoln processes the new information. Lexa tries not to feel like a specimen under a microscope.

“Clarke?” His face creases in thought a moment later when Lexa nods. “That girl does not frighten easily—what makes you think you scared her off?”

“I talked to her about Costia.”

Lincoln’s dark eyes widen by a fraction. “What did you tell her?”

“How we almost broke up in New York. The disconnect I’ve been experiencing since moving up here.” Lexa exhales, feeling a rush at finally airing her admissions. “We were a little drunk.”

“Okay,” Lincoln smiles. “Still, I don’t think that would—”

“And then I sort of fell asleep on her couch … with her.”

She looks up from her lap to see the blatant shock in Lincoln’s gaping jaw and wide eyes. His expression would be priceless and more than a little humorous if she weren’t so anxious and full of regret over her actions.  

“Okay, that might sufficiently freak her out.”

“I know.” Lexa covers her face with both hands, and Lincoln instantly backpedals his reaction.

“No, no wait. Lex, sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you did anything wrong.”

“I did. I messed up everything. I haven’t dealt with anything that’s going on with Costia, and Clarke is dating now—”  

“Hey.” Lincoln wraps a hand around one of her ankles where her legs are stretched along the length of the couch, and only then does she pull her hands from her face to look at him. “Listen to me: you did not do anything wrong. I’ve crashed at friends’ houses hundreds of times, so unless you’re telling me that you fell asleep naked …”

Just the sound of that image has Lexa’s stomach bottoming out as she buries her face into the crook of an elbow. “Linc, oh my god. No.”  

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, too proud of himself for having embarrassed her. “In that case, you really haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just—this is Clarke.”

Her eyes drift back to the cat asleep in her lap, and Lexa’s voice softens. “I know.”

“Do you?” Lincoln urges.

Lexa looks up. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

He smiles at her like an older brother might tease his distraught, younger sibling in the middle of an existential crisis. “Just checking.”

“The sleeping part was completely accidental,” Lexa grumbles, her face still cooling from the heated shame of imagining Lincoln’s inquiry while reaching for her drink.

Lincoln shrugs. “Hey, it happens.”

“Not with Clarke it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Lincoln considers her for another moment, sipping at his drink while Lexa fidgets with a seam on her shirt. “What did Costia say when you told her about staying over at Clarke’s?”

“She was glad I was safe—that I didn’t try to walk home or anything.” Lexa exhales and watches for Lincoln’s reaction. “Why?”

“I just think her response is indicative of your relationship. On the one hand, there’s obviously trust there. She’s worried more about your safety than the threat of you sleeping on another woman’s couch.” Lexa can feel her cheeks warm again and takes a sip of her whiskey. “On the other hand,” Lincoln pauses, waiting to catch Lexa’s eye. “Costia’s not an idiot either.”

There it is.  

The truth (or at least an insinuation of it) that they have been dancing around for months. Lincoln’s gaze is not unkind but unrelenting in forcing her to confront her own culpability.

“I know.” Lexa thinks her voice has never sounded so small.

“You guys ever have that talk after DC?”

“No.”

Their intentions had been good. But in the end, they had been hindered by Costia’s schedule going into finals and Lexa taking on new responsibilities through Trikru. By the time they caught up with each other again, Clarke was gone and Lexa couldn’t see anything beyond the shape of her absence.

“I don’t even know if it’s worth it at this point,” she continues. “Who’s to say the same results wouldn’t keep happening again in relationships with other people?” Lexa bites at her lip, deepening the furrow in her brow. “What if the real problem is just me?”

“Hey, don’t say that shit about one of my best friends.”

Lexa finally makes eye contact to see Lincoln’s warm gaze looking back at her. Reassurance floods in even amidst all her surging self doubt.

“Deciding to be with someone shouldn’t be about calculated risk.” He rubs a hand across his abdomen, smiling fondly in contemplation. “You either feel it, or you don’t.”

“Feelings continuously shift and change—they’re an unreliable barometer.”

“Not always,” Lincoln challenges. “Sometimes you get that kick behind your ribs while in someone’s presence. Or, you feel that persistent pressure against your back, pushing you towards someone—you have to give those feelings some weight if it’s more than a fleeting impulse.”

She’s had similar debates with herself a million times, always ending up at the same conclusion. “I had all of those same feelings with Costia. And, look what’s happened to us.”

He tips his glass in Lexa’s direction. “Okay, sure. And, if those feelings have faded, doesn’t that warrant some consideration too?”  

“I don’t … I don’t trust myself to make the right decision.”

It might be the most honest admission she’s had in months. She’s relieved that Lincoln is her confidante when the truth slips out and the reassurance of his soft smile returns.

“You’re always too hard on yourself, Lex. It doesn’t have to be so complicated.”

Lexa responds only by glaring at him spectacularly over the rim of her glass. Teaching herself molecular physics might be less daunting than solving her current relationship dilemma.

“I’m serious!” He defends himself through a laugh. “Okay. For me, it’s just about wanting to spend time with that one person more than anyone else. It’s not always fireworks or these massive heart palpitations, sometimes it’s just preference. Like, I prefer this one person’s company over everyone else, regardless of how long the relationship lasts.”  

Lexa arches an eyebrow. “So it doesn’t matter if you and Octavia don’t last?”

“Oh no, she’s stuck with my ass forever.”

Lexa’s laughter dislodges some of the unease tightening in her chest.

“Honestly though,” Lincoln continues, “if O eventually met someone and felt that same draw that I feel towards her, or struck some connection that she believed would make her happier than I could … I would want her to explore that.”

Lexa watches her friend and resumes stroking her hand atop Gus’s head. “You’re an unbelievably good person, do you know that?”

“You are too, buddy. Don’t convince yourself otherwise.”

“Thanks,” Lexa responds softly.

“And, maybe Clarke is sorting through some stuff or taking space to figure out her own shit, but she’s not gone forever, okay? She’ll be back.”

Lexa releases a heavy sigh, wishing she shared Lincoln’s optimism.

In a week, she’ll leave for her holiday in New York. She’ll have the comfort of her father—his monstrous hugs, booming laughter, and mediocre cooking. And, she’ll face Anya, a far more imposing audience than Lincoln or Gus, in the midst of this internalized, romantic crisis. She’s exhausted by her own ambivalence and wishes someone in her life could just give her the right answers.

She wants shared laughter on the warm sand of a deserted beach.

She wants to place a coffee order for someone else and know it by heart.

She wants petty arguments about meaningless things that dissolve into long hugs and gentle apologies.

She wants extravagant brunches and lazy Sunday mornings, shared smiles in crowded rooms and soft touches that speak volumes.    

Her desires are not uncommon. She could likely have these experiences with any number of women. Lexa reconsiders the simplicity of Lincoln’s perspective and dares to hope that a solution to her indecision could be so cut and dry. Because if the answer is preference, her solution is simple.

She doesn’t want these experiences with just anyone. More than anything, she wants them with Clarke.

[imnotwolverine]

Tea for Two - Deleted Scene (3)

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: I was cleaning up my writing archive and found some deleted scenes from Tea for Two. I deleted this one since I felt the fic was getting too lengthy. Also, my fingers itched to totally fix/rewrite this scene, as my writing has changed quite a bit since I started some 6 months ago. BUT, it would not fit the whole fic as it was initially written, so I decided to contain myself 😌(no hating on how I started off this writing hobby, but it’s mostly just fun to see how I have evolved over the past months!) 

Scene: I’m hearing wedding bells! 

Word count: 2.874

Disclaimer: fluffy Henry stuff

--

It was time! 

We all looked eagerly at the clock. I could feel their gazes starting to burn into me. I shook out some nerves, then nodded, getting up, smiling giddily. The team did some final touch-ups - not really necessary, but still sweet. I felt like a princess while we moved towards the gardens outside. The guests had all lined up all the way from the castle door to the garden, slowly adding on to my group. We walked through the small archway in the old stone wall and there I found our dads, who held out their arms. We walked up the small path to the small grass field in the midst of all the gorgeous plants and flowers. And then I saw him, standing there with the rest of our family, friends. They all stood behind him, cheering and laughing. A swinging ceremonial master sang a jazzy tune while our groups slowly melded into one. 

Not that I would know. All I could see was Henry. All I wanted was him. 

He looked dashing in his sleek tux, his hair combed back and chin freshly shaven. We smiled at each other stupidly as the ceremonial master stretched out his arms to bring us together, interlacing our right hands. My greens looked into his blues, warm tingles sparking in my growing belly. He looked at me proudly, slightly emotional, a broadest of smiles playing on his lips. We did not speak, as was tradition.

The ceremony was started with another song and the audience gladly followed, singing in glee, the late afternoon french sun warming our skins. 

I could feel bodies moving away from us a bit. I looked away from Henry for a moment. The circle had widened, everyone keeping about a meter distance. The song died down as the ceremonial master stepped forward, cupping our right hands in his large dark skinned palms. We looked at him. ‘Dearest of people.’ He looked around, at all people around us, behind him, everyone. 

‘We are gathered here today for a very special day. For today we are binding in holy matrimony two beautiful spirits. I wish to introduce to you. Our sweet Lisa. Whom is…’ He looked at me. The audience started to fill in from all around us. ‘The best cook!’ ‘And massages like heck.’- I blushed - ‘Telling stories!’ Henry’s nephew. ‘The sweetest granddaughter.’ My grandmother said in bumpy english. I looked at her endeared. ‘Very much beloved then!’ The master winked at me. 

‘And our dear Henry..’ He gave a look at Henry, their eyes meeting, understanding. ‘SUPERMAN!!’ One of his nephews blurted out, jumping up and down in excitement. Henry smiled at him over his shoulder, winking. ‘A gentleman from the moment he could walk!’ His mother exclaimed proudly. ‘The hardest working man I know.’ Jason Momoa stepped in. The two men nodded at each other in acknowledgement. ‘And the most caring lover.’ I whispered, our eyes meeting once again. The ceremony leader tapped our hands, giving me a cheeky look. 

No talking, got it. I snickered. We looked at each other again.

‘With mother nature giving her blessing to us today. What GOOD weather, mm!’ The MC threw his face in the sun, smiling happily. ‘I would like to ask for your blessing too. To any who oppose this marriage. Now is your time to speak, or forever be silent!’ His voice had a joyful sense of soul in it. Everyone was quiet. ‘So it is then, I may say…bless you!’ He said. Everyone followed in unison. 

‘Bless you! Bless you!’ We laughed at each other, feeling the warmth and love, looking around at our family, giving them thankful looks. The ceremonial master removed his warm hands from ours, pulling out a series of cords from the crowd. He held one up. 

‘This rope, represents the past. For you accept each others pasts and love each other for those experiences that made you who you now are.’ He looked at us both in question. 

‘I do accept.’ - ‘I do accept.’ We said. 

He laid the rope over our joined hands. 

‘This rope, represents the here and now. In it is wefted the names of all who are present here today. I thank you for sharing this moment with us. May you, forever be bound in this memory.’ 

‘We do!’ Some exclaimed. 

The Bab laid the rope over our hands as well. I felt a heaviness come over me. This was happening. This was happening. Oh my. I kept looking at Henry. His eyes equally emotional, tears glistening in the corners. 

‘This rope, represents the future. For all things yet to come. Be they sad. Be they happy. You will share these moments, carry each other through when times are tough. And make love! Love!’ We both snickered at the MC. The rope was laid over our hands and the knot tied. 

‘With this knot, I tie your lives together. May you live prosperous lives. May your love soar!’ The knot was pulled tighter. ‘I wish to introduce to you. Mr and Misses Cavill!’ The cheering swelled up. ‘Kiss your beautiful bride!!!’ The MC applauded, gesturing at Henry. 

And Henry did not waste a second. With his left hand he grasped our joined hands, his lips melting into mine. A long kiss, which I eventually broke. I giggled gleefully, seeing the sparkle in his eyes, a stray tear running over his cheek. 

Our families cheered and cheered as we just stupidly smiled at each other for a moment. ‘Mrs Cavill.’ Henry whispered, so very softly only I could hear, as he laid his lips on mine once more. 

Not long after our grandparents moved into the open circle, being the first to congratulate us. Like that, everyone passed us, couple by couple, family by family. Our hands joined, it took some smart manoeuvring to receive kisses. For his smaller nieces and nephews we squatted down. They kissed our faces with fervour. ‘YAAAY’ One of the youngest girls giggled happily, wrapping her chubby arms around my neck.

As people had all congratulated us they were escorted to the dinner table, leaving us behind with the ceremony master. For a moment in private, he spoke of the ceremony, asking us how we were feeling. I really enjoyed this process. With normal weddings it was all rush-rush, keeping the family entertained, conforming. This was much more relaxed, personal. We giggled while the MC carefully unwrapped our hands, so we could take out our hands without undoing the knot. He took the rope, pulling the knot as tight as possible. 

‘My mom had this one placed under the mattress for good fertility. But I understand I may already congratulate you on that matter.’ He kissed both my cheeks, nodding at Henry warmly. Henry’s arm instinctively snaked around my waist, a broad smile on his lips. The MC continued; ‘So how are you feeling right now?’ He asked Henry first. ‘Relieved, happy..I honestly have no words. This was the most beautiful thing to happen to me in my life.’ He sighed, looking rather emotional, his nose flaring as he looked at me endearingly - more tears were close to spilling, but they were happy for sure. I folded my arm around him, leaning into him. ‘And you?’ The MC turned towards me. ‘I adored the setting. Though feeling a bit awkward at being so..in the centre of attention. Nevertheless it was good to have everyone so close. It felt personal. And very much like us.’ I looked up at Henry. I felt the arm wrapped around me slowly course towards a cheeky butt grab. I raised an eyebrow. The master of ceremonies chuckled. ‘That is good to hear.’ He said. Henry slipped his left hand over my belly. ‘And I feel blessed to have our little one with us. For him..or her..to be here with us.’ 

‘As am I. I gladly sacrifice getting drunk on fine French wine for that.’ I snickered. We all laughed. ‘Well, before any DO get drunk, let us move to the small door there. We’re going to officially have your scribbles on some paper to also make this..legally..official.’ He nodded at a door in the small sunroom. I could see our parents already sitting there.

After signing the papers we exchanged ‘rings’. As in, Henry had chosen a black band with small gold in lining, which reminisced the line that would be tattooed on my finger. He drew it once again on my finger. For the last time.

Getting back to the crowd, everyone had settled down at the two long tables. Kal was there too, sitting in between our moms. We had gotten a lovely 5-course dinner cooked for us. And wine. Lots of great french wine. Nobody would ever leave our table hungry. We had not setup table seating, sticking to our regular 2 times switch, as with our other dinner parties. The only rule being that we as hosts, this time being bride and groom, would remain seated where we were. To which I was glad. I couldn’t keep myself from kissing and hugging Henry. Neither did Henry. He even barely touched his wine - he had not been drinking ever since I had gotten pregnant. Very sweet solidarity of him.

We were seated with our parents at first. And after each course some family would get up and tell a funny anecdote. Especially Henry’s mother speaking of how he had, since he had been a young boy, been such a gentleman with the ladies, hit a snare with me. She spoke of how frustrated she was, whenever she saw how difficult it was for him to hold down a relationship, despite his feverous efforts. All his brothers finding lovely partners. But Henry - wasn’t he a catch?! - was just not meeting the right women. 

‘And then Henry called me one day. He was in LA - so I was a bit confused. It probably was like 7 in the morning there. And all he could say was; I’ve met her, mom. Apparently his dog Kal had escaped and he had met this woman who had captured Kal. I wasn’t sure whether to warn him or let it be. But some months later I met her and I couldn’t help but realise that it was true. These two are like bread and butter. So easy going and natural around each other…’ I eyed Henry during his mother’s speech. ‘You did that?’ I whispered unbelieving. He blushed, mouthing the words ‘I did…’ I looked back at his mother, who was now squeezing her husband’s shoulder.  ‘And I know how important it is to have that person near you. To know their thoughts, feelings..all with just a look. And of course suck up with their less admirable features. I don’t know if I could ever agree to see my husband kiss other women for his profession!’ The crowd snickered. 

I intervened. ‘It sure made him an excellent kisser.’ I shrugged, winking. We raised glasses. ‘Welcome to the family dearest one!’ I smiled a thank you. 

--

After dinner a camp fire was started, small lights above our heads giving a soft glow over the courtyard. Kids were laying in a corner on some bean bags, a storyteller telling them fun stories about the previous ‘owners’ of this castle - some had already fallen asleep by this point. People were dancing on a makeshift dance floor, others had stuck to the dinner table to chat. I personally was feeling quite drained as the evening progressed. Two months pregnant and I felt like a wet rag. Nevertheless I did not wish to miss a moment. I settled down for a moment with the kids. The storyteller was telling of a mighty dragon slayer - which struck a cord with the kids. ‘You can’t just SLAY dragons. That’s not nice you see.’ One of the clever younglings boasted, sitting up from his bean bag. And so a discussion started between some of the kids and the storyteller whether or not a dragon slayer could be heroic. I sniffled, petting the heads of one of the sleeping girls.

I would become a mom, I thought quietly, looking at her small figure folded up on the beanbag, her cheeks rosy. Even to this point the idea was strange. In a few more weeks we would learn what the baby’s gender would be. But before that I felt there was a lot to figure out. Where would we live? And daycare? Schools? We had some discussion on it already, but completely figuring it out was hard. We mostly asked other celebrities how they managed. Jason and Lisa Momoa were probably most in line with our idea of raising kids. Have a clear homebase and travel from there, but always be home at least 1 day in the week. So no long work trips and thereby having to pass by on some jobs.

Henry’s agent was mostly fussy about the whole thing. Of course it had been ideal; for years he had no family and could just be scheduled super efficiently, with incredibly tiresome traveling schedules. But Henry was also rather glad that this would change. He had gotten to a point in life where there was more to life then working 12-hour days for months on end. He had expressed endlessly how glad he was that he could just go for a walk with me, without having to think of what’s next? What’s next? No. We were just where we were. In the moment.

I looked up. Henry was standing next to the pile of bean bags. He looked at the pile of sleeping children, endeared. Then his eyes traveled to me. I smiled, wrestling my way out of the bean bags. He stepped in, hoisting me up in his arms easily. I giggled as he pulled me closer in his arms, a soft kiss pressed on my lips. 

And a soft click. The photographer. I had not really recognised there being a videographer and photographer that much today. They had been perfectly quiet. I looked at Henry. 

‘How is my sweet wife? Are you holding up?’ 

‘Well with you holding me up like this I can manage the whole night!’ I sniffled, looking at him warmly. He snickered in turn. ‘Well if I may do so ask, could I have this..dance?’ He nodded at the dance floor. I belted out a laugh. ‘If you so please dear husband.’  He slowly put me down, taking my hand and walking us to the dance floor. Some 90s hits were playing. We had really not planned any silly first dance or anything. I didn’t want things to feel forced, it just played out as it would.

The guests applauded as we entered the small dancing floor, laughing happily. And before long we intermingled with the other. I ended up in a dance with his father, whom clearly had had some of that fine french wine. His cheeks rosy, continuously chuckling and his eyes twinkling. A cuban song started. ‘What a curious thing you are. Snatching up our son with those green eyes and tall legs.’  He swirled me around, our hands catching again. I looked at him, a soft smile on my face. ‘Even now it is strange to realise this is all so very normal now.’ I waved my hand in front of our faces, looking at the drawn up band on my finger. ‘I’m an old married hag now!’ I sniffled. His dad belted out a laugh, swinging us in a large curve around the dance floor. He was a quite phenomenal dancer. ‘Where’d you learn to dance like this?’ I asked, eyebrow raising. 

‘HA! My dear, I have gotten my wife so mad to have five kids with me. I had to bring my A-game.’ He said, changing our directions again. ‘Quite mad indeed.’ I winked, laughing. ‘Honestly though. We have been blessed with five great boys. Men now. Gosh. I’m the only truly old hag here.’ He chuckled, nodding at some of his sons who were also dancing. Such a lovely family indeed.

I was stolen back by Henry. He looked at me, a question on his lips. ‘What did you talk about?’ He asked, semi casual. I tilted my head, laying my arms in his neck. ‘On why your father has such phenomenal dance skill.’ I chuckled, nodding. Henry raised an eyebrow. ‘Let me guess. To woo my mother.’ We both chuckled. ‘Quite so.’ Henry unfolded one of my hands from his neck, kissing my hand. ‘Guess I’ll still need some practice.’ ‘Oh please.’ I chuckled, exasperated, rolling my eyes. ‘Your woo-game is quite on point.’ I smiled, leaning in to kiss him, rubbing my belly. A kiss that became a rather longing, sweet kiss, his hand folding over the hand on my belly, staying interlocked like that as we swayed on the music gently, mostly just being very huggy buggy in each others arms. I leaned into his chest for a moment, humming. He was my rock, my anchor..my husband. And soon the father of this child I was bearing. 

It was all still a bit unreal.

--

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[gender-critical-analytical]

not to vent on main, but,,,

tw: mentions of rape and child abuse

I'm moving out of state in a month or so, which is kind of a big deal for me, as I'm still technically a minor. I'm moving across the country with my room mate, who just turned 18, and until we both have jobs and have built enough credit to rent an apartment, he and I are going to be staying with some family of his while he starts college. Before moving officially, I'm taking a brief trip to Florida so his family can actually meet me, and vice versa, and to really get a more full picture of what I'm walking into. I'm not worried too much in regards to his family's opinion of me, they've all been rather receptive to the idea of me moving with him, and his nana (who we'll most likely be staying with) insists that rent won't be an issue and she's happy to have me (partially because my family took him in after his mother's passing; his father is verbally, physically, and psychologically abusive, and my room mate couldn't stand living with him anymore. There was an empty room in my house after my little brother moved in with his dad, and I convinced my family to let him stay with us. None of his family have acknowledged this outright, but I have a hunch that the whole situation has something to do with their immediate kindness towards me, not that I'm complaining).

However, with the move date moving closer and closer, the reality of the situation is starting to really sink in, and I've decided to make plans with a lot of people I know so I can say proper goodbyes, catch up, or even just establish whether or not we'll still have contact; whether I should text them when I'm in town for visits, that type of thing. I think it will be good for me to see familiar faces one last time, and I think having a sense of closure will be good for me. At the very least, it lets me catch up with a lot of people and find out what I've missed over the past year, or however long it's been since I saw them. There aren't too many people I'll wind up making plans with, at least not from my school, since I got booted from my friend group for being a radfem. I have one longstanding friend who I know heard about what happened, and for a while I thought she simply wasn't ever going to talk to me again, but just a few days ago she hit me up and we talked, and it turns out she had just been really caught up in her job and her family life. She made no mentions of the drama at school, and we just chatted and reminisced. She and I both agreed that we should go out for dinner before I leave, and that she wants to keep in contact. There's also a few people from outside my friend group that I went to school with I want to say goodbye to.

There's S, who my room mate talked to a while back. Apparently the word of my exile hasn't reached her, and she took my lack of communication as anger, which I feel bad for now (though she actually might have heard about what happened and simply chose not to make comment when I think about it. She's a detransitioner, and one of the biggest dramas in our eighth grade year was when she bound her chest too tight and passed out outside of the building between classes and had to be carried inside because she couldn't breathe. Makes me wonder if she might have some likeminded thoughts).

There's also R, who's detrans in the opposite direction. He used to be a really violent dude, but he's gotten a lot better about it. He's had a rough home life (not to make excuses) and loves his mother, but hates his father (who has abused both him and his mother physically. I don't know why I meet so many people with terrible traumas, it really just gets worse from here). I see him taking his mother's side as a good sign in regards to his character though, and I'd actually like to say goodbye to him. He admitted that he thought he was trans just because he likes the idea of painting his nails and doing feminine things, and has since decided that he was wrong, and after a while came out as bisexual. He's also taken a lot of steps to stop being loud and violent (he was the type of guy who would punch walls and storm out of the classroom in freshman year) and has actually put effort into learning to calm down on his own (I flipped out on him when he kept calling or texting me when something was going on, which was kind of mean, but he was just constantly sending me updates on terrible shit that I couldn't help with and it was stressing me out) and solving his own issues. So I agreed to come chill with him and his dogs for a bit before leaving.

Aside from them, I have some work friends I want to make plans with. I've quit my job and made a full human resources report, because that place is a shithole and I want to go out with a bang, and it just doesn't feel right to take off without seeing some of the cool people I met one last time.

I intend to visit my little brother. I'll have to text him personally and make plans without my mom finding out, because he has her blocked, and I know he won't see me if he thinks she's involved. he moved out almost two years ago and stated that he didn't want to see my mom again until she was sober, or trying to be. My mom has tried bribing him with gifts to see her, and she keeps getting increasingly more frustrated when it doesn't work. She's also started to resent me for deciding to move, and from telling her that when my room mate and I have our own place, she won't be welcome there unless she's been sober for at least six months. I don't know how seeing my brother is going to go, it's been a long time, and the last time I saw him (around christmas, I went with my mom to drop off her bribes, and he came outside to see me. He sounds completely different now, and he's gotten taller than me) it was very overwhelming. I'm still going to arrange to see him somehow, and hopefully that will go well. I can't imagine all of the things we'll need to catch up on.

And, lastly, I want to arrange to see my cousins. I only thought to visit them in the past day or so, as they're sort of estranged when it comes to my side of the family. They're my mom's sister's kids, and my mom and my aunt don't speak anymore, so I haven't seen them in over 4 years. The family drama started after a holiday party. My aunt is married to an ugly piece of shit man (and, of course, he's a military guy) who's very controlling over her. He raped my mom at the holiday party his wife threw, and when my mom eventually got the courage to tell my aunt what he did, she didn't believe her and sided with her husband.

My aunt has two sons, my cousins G and R. I'm the oldest child in my family, and up until my little sister was born, the only girl. My cousin G is about a year younger than me, and my cousin R is about 4 years younger. Both my aunt and uncle very, very clearly have a favorite between their children (they both favor R) and even when I was little, I was aware that my cousin G was mistreated, although subconsciously. He had a tendency to get upset and cry so hard he would throw up, and he was easily freaked out by loud noises or quick movements. Although I haven't thought about my cousins much in the past few years, I recently stumbled upon my aunt's instagram, and her most recent picture was of my cousins holding their dog (a present from my grandmother that my uncle took credit for. My family had two puggles who had puppies, and we gifted the sweetest puppy to my cousin R as a birthday present. My aunt has always disliked animals, but both G and R had expressed during a visit that they desperately wanted a pet). I hadn't realized just how big my cousins had gotten, and it made me miss them. Along the way, I started to remember just how bad it used to be for G, and I started to wonder how he's been over the years. My biggest worry is that the whole 'cycle of abuse' thing might happen to him. That he'll become aggressive because that's what he grew up with, but from what I can tell he still seems a lot like he was when he was younger. But, knowing his father, things probably haven't gotten much better. His dad is a very aggressive man, who even hit me once before my mom put a stop to it. I sat too close to R when he was opening his birthday presents, and my uncle grabbed me by my hoodie, dragged me backwards, and slapped me. My mom took him into another room and threw a shit fit, but when I think back on it, it definitely gives some perspective on what that household was like, and why G cried so often.

He's still a minor like I am, but the way I figure, by time I'm fully settled in Florida, he'll be old enough to leave the house for however long he wants, and I think that after giving my cousins my socials and my number, I'm going to let him know that he's always welcome to come visit and stay as long as he needs.

long ass vent over

[wayward-mikaelson]

The Run In

Word Count: 4692

Pairing: Misha x Reader 

Characters: Reader, Misha, Diego (OG Character), Xander (OG Character), Divorce Lawyer, Police Receptionist, George (OG Character), Female Officer, and Male Officer

Summary: The Reader gets away from her abusive husband. After bumping into a stranger, the Reader forms a friendship with him which the Readers soon-to-be ex-Husband finds out about. 

Disclaimer: Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Domestic Violence, Mentions of degradation, Blood, Implied Smut

Disclaimer 2: This work of fiction contains Domestic Violence. If you have been a victim of DV please read at your own discretion. If you are in a DV situation please call 1-800-799-7233, of you’re unable to speak safely, you can log onto thehotline.org or text LOVEIS to 22522. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. If you are in an emergency, call 911. There are also DV/IPV programs and shelters in your area who can help you. 

Disclaimer 3: Any of the shorts that are hot and steamy, I want to put out there that it's in no way disrespectful towards Vicki at all. I love her to death and respect that marriage between her and Misha. So when reading those shorts, know that it all takes place in an alternate world where they aren't married at all.

A/N: Sorry this is late. I have been hitting some sort of writing block. I have the words in my head but for some reason I can’t get them out. 

A/N 2: Tag your anyone who loves Misha! 

*18+ Content. Anyone younger than 18 will need to move along. I do not want to risk my account being deleted. 

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work way too hard on my work and don’t want it to get stolen.

***This work is also posted on Instagram, Wattpad, and AO3. Go show it some love over there.

****Please follow me on my other accounts Instagram, Wattpad, Twitter, and AO3

*****DMs are CLOSED for REQUESTS. I gotta finish up my other two projects. 

Forever Tags: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @hobby27​ @440mxs-wife​ 

I sit alone in the apartment, huddled on the couch. The fight had been bad this time. I mean, all fights with Diego were bad but, this one in particular had been pretty bad. I look around the trashed apartment and try not to replay the events that took place almost an hour before. The television was busted, a couple chairs had been thrown over, the mirror my mother had salvaged and repurposed for me was destroyed, glass was everywhere, and my grandmothers clock she passed down to me was busted up.

I don't know how I got here.

I don't know how I let it get so bad.

I slowly get up off the couch and watch my step all the way to the bathroom. I flip the light on and there, glowing bright red, on my face is the handprint of my husband. The throwing of things has been going on for a couple years. Hitting is new and Diego never hit me until recently. I should have left him months ago. Maybe even years ago.

After that first hit.

It was after a Christmas party at his office. We got into a fight about me talking to his co workers and about the dress I wore. He said he had been embarrassed by it all. I'm the stand you ground type of woman who snaps back. The moment I had snapped back, was the moment Diego hit me. Diego has been surprised so he left for the evening. I should have just packed and left. I didn't, I waited an apology that never really came and when it did, I knew he didn't mean it.

Tonight, it was about the fact I went out with a few friends and forgot about dinner for Diego. When I came home with take out, he lost it. Called me every name in the book. Threw things and hit me and left.

I slowly touch the already welting mark. I suck in a sharp breath when my cool hand touches the raw skin. It stings so bad that even my tears make it sting. I look at myself again in the mirror. "How pathetic," I whisper to myself. "How pathetic of you to have stayed this long over a boy that can't handle his anger. That's going to change."

I walk out of the bathroom to the room Diego and I share together. I head straight towards the closet and pull out a duffle back and begin to fill with the important things. Clothes. Some shoes. Bathroom and shower necessities. I swap out purses, leaving both my car keys and phone in my old one. I can't risk having Diego try looking for me. I log into my bank account and change every security question and answer. I close my eyes. I never thought I would need to do this yet here I am.

I look around the apartment one last time. My eyes land on the photo from our wedding day. I grab it and rip the picture from the frame. I take a lighter and set it ablaze in the kitchen sink with a few other photos. Taking a deep breath, I finally make my exist from the apartment.

I walk to the nearest bus stop and wait for the bus to show up. Even in the dark it's difficult to hide my swollen face from the world. So I keep it down and tucked behind the collar of my coat. When the bus finally shows up, I get on it and pay my fair. I go sit in the back and ride it all the way to where I need to get off. The ride is quiet. A few people stare at me when they catch sight of my face. I turn away from them and keep my face hidden away. I stare at my bags and think, this is all I have now. A few clothes, money, these bags, a few personal items, etc.

The bus stops and I quickly grab my bags and get off. I turn this way and that looking for the building I need to go into. I spot it, It's hidden behind some trees and another bus stop across the street. I make my way across the street and into the police station.

There is a lady sitting at the front desk. It looks like she's packing up to go home. She gives me a friendly smile and sets her bag aside.

"What can I do for you?" She asks. I see her zero in on the mark on my face and the look in her eyes looks like she's about to cry. "I think I know what papers you need." She turns and leaves the area and returns with a few papers in her hands. She slowly hands me the papers and a pen. "Do you need a safe place to fill these out? Theres a room I can take you to."

I nod, I want to cover as much of my trail and steps as I can. Diego is a smart man. He will soon learn I left him and will soon come looking for me. The lady walks me to a room with a table. She tells me that she won't close the door because some people in my situation get triggered. She walks to the officer that is sitting at a desk across the way and tells him something while pointing to me. The officer looks at me and then nods to the woman.

I look down at the Order of Protection and Restraining Order papers and take a deep breath. When I start to fill the paper out, I notice that I am still wearing my wedding ring and band. I take them off and set them in my bag. As I finish my paper work, I slowly get up and walk out of the room. The officer sees me and slowly approaches me.

"I can take care of this for you," He says reaching for the paper. "Now how about we get some ice for that mark and have a look to make sure it isn't more than raw skin." The officer sits me down and leaves. When he comes back he has a small ice pack and places it on my face. The cool pack feels so nice.

"I have a question," I say as the officer pulls out a first aid box and starts to look at my face.

"Yeah?" he responds.

"Is there a way to put in your system that I am not a missing person but on the run from my husband?" I flinch when the officer wipes my face with the alcohol wipe.

"Sorry," He starts to apply an antibiotic to my face. "If or when your husband comes to us looking for you, our system will actually show that these orders are on him. What will happen is that they will take your information and tell him he has two days until you are declared missing. In that time frame he would have been served with the restraining order." The officer puts a large band aid over my face.

"Good," I say.

"How long?" the officer asks.

"Long enough to finally say fuck it and leave his ass."

***

A few days pass. I'm staying at a hotel and paying by the day. I purchased a brand new phone and got a new number. I called my parents and told them what was going on. They were mad and sadden by the situation but are happy that I got out when could. I got word from my officer friend that the restraining order was delivered but he said that Diego didn't look happy.

A week passes and I am still staying at the hotel. Not many apartments won't rent to me until I'm legally separated from Diego. I meet with a lawyer to have divorce papers drawn up and served to him but according to her, once the papers were signed, it would take a few months for them to be filed.

"Now all we need to do is get you two in here to sing these?" the lady says.

"About that," I fold my hands. "I have a protection order and restraining order on him."

The lawyer nodded her head. "I see. Well, I will have someone deliver to him and see if he will sign them. Just be prepared," She reaches for my hand and takes it in hers. "Some men like him, they will stall this as much as they can to get you to meet in person."

I nod. "I understand, in that case, if I have to meet him, I will have someone I trust with me."

As predicted, a week later, the lawyer calls me ups and tells me that Diego refuses to sign. Says I'm having a mental breakdown and needs to just come home so we can work it out. The lawyer also mentions that Diego had said that I'm lying about him throwing things that it's all me and that he only hit me in self defense because according to him, I slapped him before he slapped me.

I sit back in my hotel room in hot anger. I can feel the steam of my anger coming off my skin. I'm angry he won't sign the papers. I'm angry he started to make up shit about me. But jokes on him, I kept a private album on my iCloud of all the times he hit me. It my friends idea, she encouraged me to document it all somewhere where he doesn't know the password to. She passed away about a year ago from getting hit by a drunk driver.

"I'm going to need a printer," I say looking at the countless pictures of abuse.

***

The next day I go out and purchase a decently priced printer. And a decent laptop since everything was on my phone. As i'm walking down the street back to my hotel, with my things, I find myself falling onto hands and knees. The printer box rolled a few feet from me. I hope it isn't damaged, I think slowly sitting back on my knees and just staring at it.

"Oh my goodness," a voice says. "I am so sorry."

I look up to see a man with a ragged hair, black sunglasses, a black t-shirt with a jean jacket over it, and dark skinny jeans reaching down to help me up to my feet. I take his hand and slowly get to my feet. I notice the scruff framing the rest of his face. The sun shines perfectly behind him and I can't help but feel drawn to him.

"I should have watched where I was going and make sure there wasn't a beautiful woman carrying a large object," the man says turning to pick up my printer. "Doesn't look damaged from the outside."

I smile and feel my face burning. I'm sure it's bright red. "It's okay, I should have called an Uber instead of walking three blocks. I'm sorry about your coffee." I gesture to the fallen cup and spilled contents on the sidewalk. "Let me buy a new one."

The man laughs and waves a free hand. "No need to waste your money on my accident."

"What can I do?" I ask after I made sure my laptop box was fine.

"How about you let me help you with this so another person doesn't run into you?"

Taking a deep breath, I accept the strangers offer.  We walk the last block talking about the city. When we get to the hotel, this man offers to carry the printer all the way up to the room. Didn't even question if I was living there.

"Thank you for doing this," I tell him as he sets the box on the small table.

"Anything," he smiles. "And when you are ready to search for apartments I know of a few good ones."

I give a small smile. I guess it's obvious that I was living in the hotel. "Thanks," I watch as he walks himself to the door. "I did never get your name." I call after him.

"Misha," he smiles. "Collins."

***

A month goes by and I am no longer looking like a crazy person after submitting all my pictures to my lawyer. Still Diego refuses to sign the papers unless he can meet with me alone. Of course I say "fuck no."

"If you want to be rid of him forever, then you have to compromise," my lawyer tells me.So I makes plans for the inevitable. But I have my officer buddy tagging along with me to the meeting.

I stare at the divorce papers and I am praying Diego will sign them at our meeting. But I doubt it. Ever since I left him, I started to see the red flags. Even friends that I still have and that haven't been manipulated by Diego, have told me they saw the way he treated me and spoke to me.

I need fresh air.

I get out of the hotel and walk to the the nearest park. It has a lake right in the middle of it. I rest my arms on the railing and then drop my head on my arms. This is more stressful than when I planned a wedding with Diego. I'm closing a door on almost seven years of marriage.

Diego was never like this. Even when we dated for five years. He was always so sweet, so kind, understanding, etc. He would buy me flowers for no reason. My apartment would be covered in them and I would tell him that I would donate some to nursing homes just to make room. I don't know what snapped in Diego to make him the way he was now.

Sighing I look up and stare at the lake. There is a small flock of ducks swimming passed me. Their color feathers shine in the afternoon. It puts a smile on my face. Something that is hard for me to do lately with everything going on.

"I was wondering when that smile would come," a familiar voice makes me turn to my left. There, a few feet away from me, Misha stands. I haven't seen or spoken to him since he left my hotel after giving me his number.

A number I never called or texted.

I had too google him to see if I could find anything on him. Well, I found a crap ton on him. An actor who did a crap ton of good. He is loved by millions.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask. Another smile creeping onto my face.

"Not long," he says walking closer to me. "Just long enough to see that frown turn upside down." He gives a small smile. "Are you still at that hotel?"

I chuckle. "I am, I haven't had the time to look at apartments. I've been preoccupied trying to get my soon to be ex-husband to sign divorce papers."

Misha leans up on the railing along side me and looks at the ducks. "Maybe he's holding out to want to try and work things out with you?"

I laugh. "No, he's abusive and isn't having it with me being in control of myself now. The night I left him, it was really bad. It took a while for the mark he left on me to go away. Then he tried to convince my lawyer that I was having a mental breakdown."

"I'm sorry," Misha pulls back from the railing and pulls out his wallet and shows me a penny. "Here's to him signing the papers so you can officially be free of him." He tosses the penny into the water. "Are you doing anything, tomorrow?" He asks.

"Besides meeting Diego to get him to sign papers? No." I answer twiddling my thumbs.

"How about after you meet with him, I take you to look at apartments?" He leans towards me with a smile. "I can get you a really good deal. I'll even drive, so we don't have to walk."

"Sure."

***

"He's late," Xander says stirring his now cold coffee. Xander is the officer that helped me the night after  I left Diego. Xander was also the one who helped set me up at the hotel I'm staying at. Xander's wife, was a domestic violence victim and he was the officer that pulled his ex husband off her. They didn't get hook up until a year later when they ran into each other. They have been married for almost ten years with two kids.

"Just give it a few minutes," I say contemplating buying another coffee eying the divorce papers on the table.

Five minutes later, Diego waltz into the Starbucks and spots us. A smile spreads across his face when he sees me. Then it instantly fades when he sees Xander. He crosses the little shop in a few short strides. His black shoes squeaking from the rain outside.

"So," he sits down and crosses his arms. "Is this who you left me for? Some wanna a be body builder."

Xander smirks. "No, I'm actually a police officer. Since YN here has a few orders drawn up on you it's best that she have the right protection. Even in a public place." I notice that as Xander leans over he has his badge in his hands.

Diego looks over to me. "Can' you stop being so dramatic about this? So that we can just do this alone"

"Not ever going to happen," I say firmly. "And I'm not dramatic. Not about you hitting me."

The look in Diego's eye's grows dark but he puts on a fake smile. "I would never hurt you," He looks around as a few people over heard what I said. "I can't believe you're still on that."

"Look," Xander leans back and pushes the papers towards Diego. "All YN needs you to do is sign these. This game you're trying to play, just keeps hurting her."

Diego stares at Xander. "I don't think I will." He pushes the papers back and starts to get up. "Until next time."

"You're just going string this along aren't you?" I stood up so fast that Xander's coffee spilled. "I don't want to be married to you anymore. I stopped wanting that when you threw the first book and kicked a hole in the wall. I stopped when you hit me. I just let it go on for so long that I forgot how to not walk on eggshells. You don't own me. I don't love you. So sign the fucking papers."

Diego stares at me. I hadn't realized, but I pretty much yelled. I gather my bag and make my way out. Xander follows me.

"Hey," He hands me the papers. "Do you need me tot drive you back?"

"No, a friend is picking me up," I pull my phone out and text Misha. "He should be meeting me in a few minutes. He's taking me to look at apartments."

***

Another month goes by and I'm moved into my new apartment. All thanks to Misha and his ways of persuasion. I got the first six months half off. It was a nice little one bedroom apartment with a little den. Misha even convinced me to let him buy the furniture sets I had my eye one in a catalog.

"I'm just use to working hard for stuff like this," I say when the last of the movers move the stuff in. "I literally don't know how to thank you. Even just saying 'thank you' doesn't seem to be enough."

Misha laughs. The laugh takes up his entire body. "Just a simple thank you would be enough. Unless you want me to come up with a way to convince you to let me take you out to dinner. As friends of course."

I feel my cheeks start to burn. This dude is smooth. "Okay, dinner, as friends, it is."

Misha smiles big. "Awesome, now lets get this place looking as good as you."

For the next two days, Misha is over helping me settle down in my apartment. Whenever he leaves for food or whatnot, he always comes back with something to add to the place. I didn't even argue once.

The time I spent with Misha, he always hyped me up for stuff, he said things how it was and never ever sugar coated things, he held doors open, and gave me words of encouragement whenever I told him that Diego, again, refused to sign papers over.

Diego not signing papers was frustrating. The more time I spent with or talking to Misha, the more my feelings for him grew. But I was still tied to the asshole of a man who knew what he was doing. He knew of my interactions with Misha, he always brought it up but I would shut it down.

"He's just using you for public gain," Diego would tell me. But I knew Misha pretty well at this point. Things I've read on Twitter about him, Misha would never use someone like that.

Each meeting I had with Diego, I started to see him for who he really was. I don't even know how I fell in love with him. He's even gotten his parents convinced that I'm a lunatic. His mom would text me calling me all sorts of names and telling me that I should be the one paying for Diegos therapy sessions. She would also tell me that she knew I was trouble when he brought me home to meet them. His father wanted me to pay back every dime he had spent on mine and Diegos wedding or he would get a lawyer involved. He would even send disturbing texts saying that he's got people watching me and that I should be be careful.

I won't lie, that scared the shit out of me.

That last one pissed Misha off. I have never seen him go off about someone before. After that text, I went out and put restraining orders on Diegos parents and Misha convinced me to have someone look after me while he was gone for his show. I agreed and my new 'bodyguard' went with me everywhere and made sure I got home safe. Misha even hired a security company to set up an alarm system at my apartment.

If I didn't know better, Misha was or has developed some kind of feelings for me.

***

A year after I made my escape from Diego, I finally have my own car. Paid for all on my own. So no more walking. I park my car in my apartment parking spot and pull out my phone. I see the text from Misha, it's from an hour ago. His flight is delayed and that he would see me at some point tomorrow.

"Bummer," I lay back and watch as George, the bodyguard, pull his car into the parking spot behind me. I unbuckle and get out and watch as George do the same. Before I could get a word out, I see two police cars come up and two officers run passed me.

I slowly turn around and watch them run up to my level. My heart beats fast and I follow them. George, of course follows as well. I skip the steps two at a time and watch as one officer kicks my down. I hear yelling and banging around. Suddenly, George has both his hand on my shoulder and pulling me back as an officer finally come out.

With Diego in handcuffs. His nose is bleeding and a bruise is already forming on his face.

I pull away from George and run into my apartment. There standing in the middle of the room was the other officer talking to Misha. Misha has a busted lip and small gash on the side of his head. I notice that the glass bowl that Misha got me was in pieces and the coffee table was destroyed.

Misha sees me and I rush over to him. "Oh my gosh," I take hold of his face. "Are you okay?"

"Are you the lady who lives here?" the officer asks.

"Yes, and this is my friend," I don't my eyes off Misha.

"And the gentleman we arrested?"

"That's no gentleman," my voice is hard. "That is my abusive soon-to-be ex-husband. He has a restraining order on him."

The officer puts her note pad away. "That will explain a lot. We will contact you if we need anything else." With that, the officer left.

"Everything is all good?" Georges voice makes me turn around.

"Everything is good, George," Misha says. "You can go."

After George leaves I turn back to Misha. "You said you're flight had been delayed. What happened?"

Misha leads us to the couch and we sit down. "I only said that so I can surprise you. I hadn't been here for even an hour before he broke in. He wanted to know where you were and I wouldn't tell him. I guess a neighbor called 911 due to the yelling and stuff. Officer saw my stuff and I said my friend lives here and is letting me stay with her."

I nod my head. "I'm just happy you're okay. I don't know how Diego found me."

"It doesn't matter," Misha takes my hand. "He will answer for it in court.

And Misha was right. A week after everything went down, Diego was charged with breaking and entering, assault, and basically breaking the restraining order by stalking. I sat in during the hearing with Misha. Diego's parents tried to fight the five year sentence but the Judge said that if they said anything else before court ended he would double it without parole.

A few weeks after that, I am getting dinner ready when Misha shows up. He had been showing up a lot lately. I don't mind it at all, Misha makes me feel sane and safe.

"Hey," Misha says setting his coat on the couch. "I see that new coffee table came."

"It did, thanks to you," I say pulling a second plate down. I've learned to make a bit extra whenever Misha came over. "Also, I have some good news." I point to the orange envelope on the table. Misha looks at it and then back at me.

"Did," he starts to say.

"He sign it?" I finish his question. "Yeah, he called saying he will sign it. So I dropped by and had them take the paper to him to sign. I wasn't going to see him. They brought it back all signed. I am mailing in the morning."

"That's amazing, YN," Misha comes up to me and hugs me.

"Well, let's celebrate with dinner."

After dinner, after we clean up, we are sitting on the couch. Talking about whatever came to mind. We are talking about things we are still embarrassed by when Misha takes my hand.

"YN," He says softly. "I want to tell you something."

"Sure," I put my free hand on over his.

"I...I really care about you and I am glad that it was me here and not you when Diego broke in," Mishas voice is soft still. "I honestly don't know what I would do if you were here and he hurt you. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe."

"And I am," I slowly rub his hand with my thumb.

We stare at each other for what feels like forever when Misha pulls his hands from mine and put them on my face. His eyes look search mine for permission but I lean closer to him and brush my lips over his. He closes his eyes and I feel the shiver run through his body.

His gentle grip on my face forces my face back to his where his lips wait. They're smooth and there's a lot of passion behind his kiss. My hands run up to his collar as I move closer to him. The kiss deeps and Mishas hands trail down my sides to my hips where he pulls me onto his lap. It makes it easier for my tongue to push pass his lips and into his mouth.

Without breaking the kiss and with a low growl, Misha stands up, both arms supporting me as he walks us to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut.

[aaliyah-babe]

The One With George Stephanopolous: Part One

pairings: eventual joey x reader

authors note: i own nothing from friends, all credit goes to their respective owners. feedback is always appreciated!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together!

“oh that’s good!” pheobe exclaimed after she heard what monica would do if she was omnipotent for a day,

“okay pheobe,” you said,

“okay. if i were omnipotent for a day i would want, um, world peace, no more hunger, good things for the rainforest. and bigger boobs!”

“well, see. you took mine,” ross said, “chandler what about you?”

“if i were omnipotent for a day, i’d make myself omnipotent forever!” he answered and you scoffed, so did rachel,

“see, there’s always one guy! “if i had a wish i’d wish for three more wishes!”” she quoted,

joey entered the coffee house and everybody waved at him,

“hey, joey! what would you do if you were omnipotent?” monica asked him,

“probably kill myself,” he answered, not understanding,

“excuse me?”

“hey, if little joey’s dead then i got no reason to live,”

“joey, uh... om nipotent,” ross cleared it up,

“you are?” he gasped, as ross got up, “ross, i’m sorry!”

“how does she do that?” monica asked, referring to the sleeping pheobe in the coffee house,

“i cannot sleep in a public place!” ross answered,

“yeah me neither, i always feel like somebody’s watching me,” you said, “kind of like what we’re doing to pheobe right now,”

“would you look at her?” monica asked,

“we already are,”

“she is so peaceful,”

pheobe stirred in her sleep before her eyes shot awake and she screamed, sending monica jumping back,

“what? what?” she exclaimed, “hi,”

“it’s okay, you know. you just nodded off again,” ross said to her,

“what’s going on with you?” you asked her,

“i got no sleep last night.” she told you,

“why?” ross asked her and you sat up straight,

“my grandmother has this new boyfriend,” you already knew where this was going, “and they’re both kind of insecure in her, and deaf! so they’re constantly reassuring eachother that they’re having a good time! you have no idea how loud they are,”

“well if you want you can stay with me tonight,” you offered,

“thanks,” she thanked you,

“hey wait guys! why don’t you two come over, and we’ll have like a slumber party, like back in highscool,” monica said,

“oh yeah that would be great!”

“yeah sure mon!”

“... 95, 96, 97. see, i told you. less than 100 steps from our place to here,” joey said to chandler, walking into the coffee house,

“you got way too much free time,” chandler said walking over to you all.

“hey! there’s the birthday boy!” joey smiled at ross, jumping over the seat and sat next to ross and you, “ross, check it out. hockey tickets, rangers-penguins tonight at the garden and we’re taking you!”

“happy birthday pal!” chandler said, confusing you,

“we love you man,” joey kissed ross’ cheek,

“that’s funny,” ross laughed, “my birthday was seven months ago.”

“so?”

“so i’m guessing you had an extra ticket and couldn’t decide who got to bring a date? huh?”

“well, aren’t we mr. the-glass-is-half-empty?” chandler said making you chuckle,

“oh my god. oh. is today the 20th, october 20th?” ross asked, making joey nod,

“oh, i was hoping you wouldn’t remember,” monica said which made you and joey share confused glances,

“what’s wrong with the 20th?” joey asked,

“11 days before halloween- all the good costumes are gone?” chandler joked.

“today’s the day carol and i first... consummated our... physical relationship,” ross said and you nodded slowly, while joey stared at ross, “with sex,”

“you know what? id better pass on the game,” ross declared, “i think i’ll go home and think about my ex-wife and her lesbian lover,” ross got up,

“to hell with hockey, let’s all do that!” joey tapped your leg before getting up,

“come on ross!” chandler said to him, “you, me, joey, ice, guys night out! come on, what do you say big guy? huh? huh?” chandler threw punches that didn’t hit ross in the stomach,

“what are you doing?” ross asked.

“i have no idea,”

“come on, ross.” joey persuaded,

“alright, alright, maybe it will take my mind off it,” ross answered, “will you promise to buy me a big foam finger?”

“you got it!”

“look! look! look!” rachel yelled running in, “my first paycheck!”

everybody clapped as she ran and sat next to you,

“look at the window, there’s my name! hi me!” she smiled at the envelope,

“i remember the day i got my first paycheck, there was a cave-in in one of the mines and eight people were killed,” pheobe explained,

“you worked in a mine?” you asked her,

“no i worked in a dairy queen, why?”

“god! isn’t this exciting? i earned this. i wiped tables for this, i steamed milk for it, and it was totally...” she read her paycheck bill, before her face fell, “not worth it. who’s “fica”? why’s he getting all my money?” you chuckled at that, “i mean what? chandler, look at that!” she showed chandler,

“oh this is not that bad,” he handed it to joey,

“oh you’re fine for a first job!” he then handed it to ross who read it,

“you can totally live off this,” he handed it to pheobe who showed you and monica,

“oh yeah!” you guys lied

“hey by the way, great service today!” ross said getting money out from his pocket,

“oh yeah totally!” you did the same, putting it on the table as well as everyone else.

“hockey!” the men yelled, walking to the door, but before they could leave, three women walked in looking around and one was pregnant, everybody stared at them,

“hockey!” the men repeated, leaving the coffee house

the women looked around while the pregnant woman looked at the counter, straight at rachel, “rachel?” she asked.

rachel turned around and gasped, “oh my god!” she screamed as the three women started screaming loudly,

“oh, wow,” you sighed leaning into pheobe,

she ran over and hugged them,

“i swear i’ve seen birds do this on wild kingdom,” monica leaned over to you and pheobe,

“what are you guys doing here?” rachel asked,

“well, we were in the city shopping and your mom said you worked here, and it’s true!” the middle one giggled,

“look at you in the apron, you look like you’re in a play,” the one in black and white said,

“god, look at you, you are so big!” rachel said, referring to the woman’s pregnant belly,

“i know, i know! i’m a duplex!” she rubbed her stomach before shrugging,

“so what’s going on with you?” rachel asked the girl in black and white,

“well, guess who my dads making partner in his firm?” she pointed at herself, making all the girls scream again,

“and while we’re on the subject of news...” the girl in the middle showed her hand which had an engament ring on it, making everybody scream once again,

“look, look, i have elbows!” pheobe said, making you, pheobe and monica make fun of the girls by screaming like them, making them all look at you, and you guys shut up.

tomorrow was your date so you headed back up to get an outfit while monica and pheobe helped you pick one,

“what about this one?” monica asked, holding up a black dress,

“yeah that’s nice, but it’s too formal, we’re only going to a dinner,” you told her,

“okay well i have an idea! what’s your best feature? body wise?” pheobe asked and you shrugged,

“i don’t know?”

“your boobs,” monica nodded,

“oh, 100%,” pheobe agreed,

“well i might just have to agree with you on that one,” you shrugged,

“okay, so now that we have figured out what is your best feature, we need to figure out which outfit compliments that outfit the most, so take off your clothes and let’s get started!” you and monica looked at her, “why do i sound like joey?”

you laughed before going to change in your bathroom while they picked out more outfits, the first one was a pink dress, that cut down to about thigh length and didn’t compliment your breasts at all, but you showed the girls anyway,

“okay, this one is nice, but it doesn’t show the ladies,” you pointed at your breasts,

“okay well next one, is this red, louis vuitton dress, and it looks like it would compliment them,” monica handed it to you and you changed putting it on, before walking back in and both their mouths dropped,

“oh y/n! you look so gorgeous,” monica said to you, making you blush,

“really?” you asked,

“oh 100% stunning, if i was a lesbian, i would be coming up with the worst pick up line ever right about now,” pheobe said to you, making you smiled,

“well this is it then, but now i need shoes,” you said,

“oh i have a great pair back at my place, i’ll go get them,” monica said, leaving you and pheobe here,

“so what’s he like?” she asked you.

“oh he’s dreamy, 100% my type, fluffy black hair, with blue eyes, just really, really gorgeous,” you explained while she gasped,

“wow he sounds like a prince, i cannot wait to meet him,” she said,

“yeah well pheebs you will tomorrow, he’s picking me up at the coffee house at 7,” you told her,

“here they are!” monica walked back in, handing you the shoes, they were black heels, that looked really nice. you put them on and looked in the mirror, liking what you saw,

“okay yes, this is what i’m wearing,” you smiled, you got out of your date clothes and into pj’s for the slumber party, as you guys walked back over to monica’s apartment.

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taglist: @zestygingergirl