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willyoulovemeinthemorning · 4 years

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The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 3/?

Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the continued responses to this story! I’m so happy I’m finally just forcing myself to write for the first time in a decade. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! special call out to @candlesandsoftrain for being an especially awesome beta for this one- her suggestions are always amazing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader  Category: Fluff/mild anxiety driven angst Content Warning: So much tension, a very anxious Y/N, sexually charged moments. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 3500+

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

After a night of drinking more than you, well, probably ever had, you woke up with a horrible hangover. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, before suddenly becoming aware of another human being behind you on your bed. You searched your mind for what happened the night prior, only kind of panicking at the idea that you could have… did you?

Said person in your bed made a sound, and you chanced a look without moving too much. “I feel like I’ve been hit by an 18 wheeler.” You heard Emily moan grumpily, which made you giggle lightly. You’d forgotten that she asked for a sleepover. You were so wrapped up in everything Reid, which was absolutely all you dreamed about last night. His hands, his voice, his hair, how he smelled like books and the forest…

“Me too…” you agreed. “Reid said he was going to come and get us this morning, but I have no idea what time it is or even when he’s coming. He said he’d text you.” Emily reached over to her side of the bed blindly, almost knocking her phone off as she tried to grab it. “Are you going to need to go to your place or do you want to borrow some more of my clothes. You seem to fit my PJs pretty well.”

Emily made a noncommittal noise as she put her phone to her face. “Hey Spencer, what time do you thi- You’re five minutes away? Cool cool no of course we’re up and ready to go. No we are not still in bed shut up.” You could assume she was talking to Spencer, and you panicked again, looking down at yourself and imagining what your face and hair looked like right now. Fuck. “Y/N, what’s the apartment number so he knows what number to buzz up to?”

“Um… 364.” You responded, and when she looked at you, she gave you a questioning gaze.

“Yeah, see you in a few, thanks Spencer.” She hung up the phone and stared at you, waiting for you to explain your face.

“I look like a mess!” You shouted, making her wince. You got up and started running around, your own hangover a thing of the past in favor of trying to clean up whatever you could. Your two cats who had been asleep on your feet made some very disgruntled sounds at your dislodging them, and they ran for the hills when you started running around like a crazy person. You imagined that you looked like a hungover hurricane. “He can’t see me like this! I’m in my pjs and my hair is gross and greasy and my makeup is probably smeared all over my face and my head is pounding and I bet I smell and- ugh!” You ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower. You didn’t have long, but you could make a lot happen in five minutes if you tried. “Grab whatever you want to wear!” You screamed, leaving Emily in the dust as you hopped in the shower.

You heard her follow in after you had closed the curtain, fumbling around with your drawers, finding what she wanted apparently. Her hand reached in and handed you what you figured she’d been looking for- a makeup wipe. You took it gladly, scrubbing your face clean with it. “You know, he’s not really like that- shallow, I mean. He’s probably the least shallow person I’ve ever known. And even with smudged makeup and PJs, you’re still bangin’, he’d be blind not to notice. And trust me, he’s noticed that you’re bangin’.” Her voice filled the room.

She was rustling through your drawers again, and you could hear your makeup rattling around as she sifted through it. “I… I’m sure that’s true, Emily, but I still… he doesn’t know me yet. I… I just want to make a good impression. He’s just…” You paused, suddenly remembering that you’d literally just met this woman and you were about to pour your heart out to her. “He’s just… he’s a new coworker and it’s different with men in the workplace. I don’t mind you seeing me a certain way, but I don’t want Morgan or Hotchner or Rossi or Reid to see me anything less than professional.” You finished, knowing she saw right through you, hoping she wouldn’t comment on it.

“Yeah, sure, you want Reid to only see you in a professional light. Sure. Professional.” Emily snickered. “You absolutely don’t want him bending you over a desk in the middle of a classroom while he’s wearing tweed and ramming you until you see stars-”

“Emily!” You would have blushed if you hadn’t already been completely red from the hot water. Even though it was embarrassing that she saw right through you, you laughed. You knew she was teasing and she meant no harm. It was nice to feel so at ease with her already.

“Did you know that he’s a professor in his off hours? Like a real one. At a college. With students.” She continued, and you could almost hear the shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my god go away!” You laughed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading low in your belly. That image was… incredibly attractive. How were you supposed to get through the rest of the day without picturing everything Emily just described?

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll go, so you can have some alone time.” Just in time too, because the buzzer went off in your apartment. “I’ll go get it, miss Y/N, enjoy the rest of your shower time.” She sing-songed as she headed to your door. You tried to focus on finishing in the shower and not on the fact that Spencer was on his way up to your apartment right now. While you were naked in your shower, possibly thinking about him in a professor look fucking you over his desk in his classroom…

“You are my favorite person in the whole world, have I ever told you that?” You heard Emily squeal. “Y/N is in the shower, but I’m sure she’ll say the same once she sees.” You were curious, but you needed to finish getting ready.

Spencer laughed softly. The sound excited you, happy to hear it coming from inside your home. A few minutes later, you finished up and stepped out of the shower, only to realize you’d forgotten a towel. “Em? Can you grab me a towel from the closet in my room please?!” You called out to her from the opening in the door. You heard some shuffling outside the door, waiting wet and cold until a towel appeared through the slot in the door. You grabbed it and wrapped it around your body, revelling in the heat of it. “Thanks, Em, I appreciate it-” You opened the door and found a very non-Emily person standing in front of you. “S-Spencer! Oh! I-I thought you were Emily- oh my god!” You squeaked, realizing you were standing in front of him looking like a wet rat, covered in only a towel. You didn’t get a chance to see the dark look on his face as he stared at you, taking you in head to toe, because you slammed the door in his face. He made a noise of disapproval. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know- I asked Em and then it was you-”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. Emily was in the middle of putting herself together something to eat and she asked me to help you.” His voice came from the other side of the door, soft, unsure, and lower than you remembered it from yesterday. “I’ll leave you alone to get ready, I’m sorry.”

After a moment of silence, he walked away, his feet shuffling on your carpet. You cursed yourself for making him uncomfortable. But the towel wrapped around you barely covered anything. He’d seen you soaking wet and you were so mortified. No one ever wanted cute boys to see them less than perfect.

You cursed yourself inwardly, moving quickly to get ready- hair, a touch of makeup- only to realize you hadn’t grabbed an outfit before running in a panic to shower. Sighing, you put your PJs pack on to make the trip back to your room, just a tank top and a little pair of shorts- you hated being too covered up at night, so you preferred minimal clothing to sleep in.

While you were bent over and moving things around in your drawers to find yourself a bra and underwear, you heard a sound from behind you- a sharp intake of breath.

“S-Sorry! Sorry I-I just wanted to l-look at your books! I didn’t- I was sure you’d be finishing in the bathroom I am so sorry!” He said, putting his hands over his eyes. You wanted to be horrified- your shorts were SO short and he had definitely just seen a lot of you… but he looked so cute, like a little kid who saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Spencer, it’s fine, really. I’m clothed this time, so it’s… it’s fine, I swear.” He peeked at you through his fingers, making you cover your mouth to contain the laugh that wanted to come out. His eyes fell right to your chest, which you realized was only covered by your thin white tank top- oh. You wanted to cover up pretty badly, but you also didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty. You looked around your room and tried to see if you’d left anything inappropriate out, but couldn’t find anything.

“You just… you have so many books, and Emily said you had even more in your room and I wanted to see- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded. This is such an invasion of privacy wow-” He was now looking everywhere but at you, and you kind of missed the way his gaze warmed your insides up and made you shiver. You should have been mad that he was in your room uninvited, but… you liked how he looked in here. It made you feel alive- to have this man here looking at your most private space, looking at your collection of books and belongings.

You stepped towards him, which made his gaze rise to your face, where he found a soft smile. “Spencer, it’s okay. I… would like some privacy to get ready, though? You’re welcome to take in my book collection some other time, if you want. I never get rid of a book. I’d love to know if you think I’m missing anything that I should own.” You said, playing with the end of your tank top.

Spencer smiled at you, shy and adorable. “I’d… like that.” You both stood there for another moment, your eyes avoiding his as he looked at you. The air in the room felt thick and tense, and your heart kept getting faster as he stared at you. After what felt like hours and no time at all, Spencer seemed to pull himself together and walk out of the room to give you your privacy, and you were finally able to take your first breath since you saw him. You looked at yourself in the mirror and took stock of yourself- your chest was flushed pink, your hands were curled into the bottom of your thin tank top that was leaving- very little to the imagination. You never noticed how revealing it was until now, under his scrutiny. You… didn’t mind, though. You liked how he looked at you like you were something beautiful.

Getting dressed in a daze, you finished up and took a deep breath. Time to face the music. Emily and Spencer were on the couch whispering, Spencer's brows creased together. “Hey guys. Sorry I took so long.” They broke apart, both looking at you.

Emily was the first to speak, Reid averting his eyes from you, a rosy color painting his cheeks. “Hey hot stuff. Reid got us caffeine!” She pointed to what you assumed was yours on the coffee table- an energy drink, and somehow, your favorite brand and flavor.

Your face broke out in a huge grin, and you bounced your way over to it. “Thanks so much, Spencer!” You said, opening the can and downing a few gulps. You moaned in delight. “Oh that’s good. Thank god for chemicals that make my brain think it’s awake.” Emily bumped shoulders with Spencer and made him look up at you. He smiled and shrugged, though that tension that you’d had in your bedroom seemed to come back in spades. Would it be inappropriate to jump your brand new coworker within 24 hours of meeting them in front of your other new coworker that you also just met within the last 24 hours? Because you were seriously considering it, your eyes having been staring at his lips for… well, too long at this point. You shook yourself out of it, your face turning a light pick as you caught his eye and he looked a little… damn, did he look smug? Fuck, smug looked good on him.

“What did I miss, guys?” You were desperate to ease the feeling in the room that was making your stomach twist hotly.

Emily smiled at you like she knew all your secrets and took a sip of her coffee, staring you in the eye the whole time. “You know… just talking. You about ready? You took so long in there.” She accused, blinking at you slowly and teasingly.

“Yeah, well, I forgot a towel and then clothes for the day and it just… took a few extra minutes.” She snickered like she knew there was more, but she didn’t press you. “Thanks for coming to get us, Spencer, we really appreciate it. You guys ready to go?”

You turned from them because if you spent one more second looking at that man on your couch, you were going to explode. Or implode. Chances were pretty split on that at the moment. You heard them both get up behind you, and you took the chance to take a breath as you put your shoes on and slipped your jacket on. You really needed to get yourself under control. You worked with the best profilers in the world- there was no way they couldn’t all see through you.

The ride to Quantico was mostly quiet, your head leaning on the window, only answering Emily or Spencer when they directly spoke to you. You were steeling yourself- you were in the process of pulling yourself together. You couldn’t jump your new coworkers bones. You could not continue to fawn all over him. You didn’t join the BAU to get a boyfriend. You joined the BAU to start the career of your dreams, and that was the focus you needed to let drive you. For your dad.

You arrived at Quantico and Spencer parked your car. You all got out relatively quietly, and started heading in, but he put his hand on your elbow and held you back from Emily gently so you two were just out of ear shot. “Y/N… are you okay?” He asked, eyes searching your face.

You couldn’t meet his eyes, but nodded and started walking into the building, hands playing with your bag. “Yeah, of course. Just… excited for day two. Maybe a little nervous. I’ll be okay.” You deflected, pursing your lips. He didn’t look like he believed you, but he didn’t press.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Y/N.” He started, his voice small and his eyes on the ground as he walked beside you. “I didn’t mean to intrude this morning, I just thought- I thought…” He looked at you, and you pretended not to notice. You couldn’t do this right now. You had a job to do, and you couldn’t have… feelings.

You both had stopped walking, and you turned and looked at him, giving him a sad smile. “Spencer, I’m not mad, or even upset. I just… I think I’m a little overwhelmed. Yesterday was my first day, and then everyone was so nice and then they got me drunk and you are just so-” Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking a little, your anxiety making it hard to breathe. You felt his hand take yours, just like last night, and playing with his fingers brought you back down to Earth and made it a little easier to take air into your lungs. “I’m just trying to survive all of this new stuff. It’s all too much and I just… my anxiety can barely take it.”

The sadness in Spencer's beautiful eyes belied his smile. You hated puting that look there. “That’s more than understandable, Y/N. Based on a survey from the Anxiety Disorders Association of America, while only 9% of individuals are living with a diagnosed anxiety disorder, 40% experience ongoing stress or anxiety in their daily lives. It’s completely normal. And being a new person on a team like ours… well, I can’t imagine that helps. T-Take your time. You have friends here and we’ll help you through this transition, okay?”

You smiled, looking at him with relief. “Thank you, Spencer.” You met his eyes then, and the pull you felt from the moment you met him surged through the air, tugging you to him, desperate to close the gap between you. But you fought it, forcing yourself to pull away from him completely and drop his hand. “Come on, let’s go. Day two begins now!” You didn’t have to pretend to be excited, because you definitely were. You walked into the bullpen with Reid, only to be greeted immediately by a mildly grumpy and hungover Garcia.

“Genius boy, new girl, we have a case. Pretty butts to the round table, please.” She said, gesturing for you two to follow her. You did, and the rest of the team followed suit. An hour later, the team were all headed to the plane, you behind everyone else. You didn't know where to sit, because everyone paired off--Morgan with Rossi and Hotch to go over theories and ideas, Emily and JJ talking about the case and clearly gossiping too as they sat beside each other. Only Reid sat alone. You nervously stood there, trying to figure out what to do, when Reid looked up and smiled at you, gesturing to the spot by him.

The plane ride went by smoothly after that, you and Reid working together easily- you already had a base geographical profile to work off of by the time you landed. The team was impressed, and you were both proud of your accomplishments. The case was long and hard… the cases with kids were always the hardest for you to hear about when you were young, And this one was incredibly difficult to live through- three little girls lost, and you had only found him after he’d made a mistake and left one alive- just barely, but alive, where he dumped her. She was only 7.

The jet ride home was quiet, everyone dealing with the case in their own way. You sat in your own corner across from Reid, shaking and holding on to your go bag tightly, one hand inside it, your hand on your dad’s journal. You dug your nails into it, trying to find something to ground you. You couldn’t get the images out of your head. The images of those girls…

Suddenly, a note fell upon your lap, and when you looked up, you saw a messy scrawl on a ripped piece of paper. “Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them. - Leo Tolstoy” You ran your fingers over the letters, memorizing how his letters looped, how he pressed his pen in differently with each word.

You looked up at him and gave him a small smile, sadness in your eyes. You held your hand out, gesturing for his notebook. He handed it to you along with his pen wordlessly.

“We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all. - Joan Didion” You handed it back to him, tears in your eyes.

He scribbled back quickly. “There is no grief like the grief that does not speak. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow… The first one’s always the hardest, I’m here if you wanted to talk. I’m also here if you just want to sit in silence,” the note read.

You took a moment and thought about it, looking up at him and smiling softly before writing back. “Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is more beautiful than the silence. – Spanish Proverb” His smile in response was absolutely breathtaking, but in the best way- he understood completely. For in this moment, the comfortable silence between the two of you that was everything you needed.

The notebook appeared on your lap again, Spencer not looking at you as you looked at him in wonder. “In the flush of love's light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free. - Maya Angelou”

Next Chapter

taglist:

@rexorangecouny @asomers603 @green-intervention @averyhotchner

#Spencer reid #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #Spencer Reid imagine #dr spencer reid #Spencer Reid self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds self insert #Spencer Reid insert #criminal minds imagine #jason gideon

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 years

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The Next One’s on You 2/5

Whelp Maxwell Lord has been consuming my thoughts all day and I sat down and wrote out the next part. Part three probably won’t be out till Saturday but I didn’t want to wait to post this one. Thank you my darling @justanotherblonde23 for being my emotional writing support buddy. Thank you for reblogging, commenting, and liking! Let me know if you want to be added to a Taglist.

Summary: A series of moments in the life of Maxwell Lord x reader centered around drinks.

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language and some making out

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @ghostwiththemostbitch @mrsparknuts @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @maxlordsgf @xjaywritesx

My Masterlist

Chapter One - Triple Espresso

Chapter Two: Vodka Martinis

A week passed, then two and nothing. Not a sound. Silence from the illustrious Maxwell Lord IV and so life moved on. The shop had a steady stream of customers, and evenings were spent vegging out in front of the TV in your pajamas with whatever dinner you scrounge together that night. You pull the vanilla ice cream closer to you and dig the spoon inside when your roommate Michael comes out his tight black jeans, and black turtleneck the sleeves rolled up to his elbow.

“Oh honey, it’s a Saturday night,” he wiggles his butt at you, “you should come out with us tonight we’re going to that new dance club, get out of this depressing apartment.”

“Oh yeah...that’s not really my scene. I would much rather be home with a good book or TV, but you go and have fun! Don’t worry about me,” you smile reassuringly and he scoffs.

“How about a date then?” he uses the mirror on the wall to apply a thick layer of black eyeliner stopping to look over at you, eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“My friend Tom from work, he’s single and looking to mingle,” he wriggles his eyebrows up and down at you, “What do you say? Friday night dinner at Les Amis?”

“That new French place downtown?”

“Yeah, you’ve been talking about going there since it opened. Just give the guy a chance, what else would you be doing on a Friday night. Seems like your mystery man didn’t pan out.”

“Mystery man?” you sit up straighter and place the open container onto the coffee table.

“The one who left you those white roses,” he rolls his eyes and finishes the wing tip. Closing the tube with a snap and putting it into his fanny pack. Your heart sinks as you think about the beautiful flowers and the arrogant bastard who left them.

“Oh those…” you say dejectedly.

“So what about Tom?” he puts one hand on his hip and looks at your expectantly.

“Oh…” what could be the harm, “sure why not. You’re right, I have nothing else going on, and I have been wanting to go there. Who knows maybe I will find the love of my life with this Tom.”

He laughs, “there’s the spirit. Oh sweet little barista, we will find you love yet!” He pulls the door open and shut quickly, his platformed boots smacking loudly down the stairs.

You groan, throwing yourself back against the couch, a hand coming up to massage at your temples. What’s the harm? Maybe this Tom guy will be wonderful and you’ll end up happily ever after, like one of those Disney movies.

Friday night comes before you know it and you straighten your dress again in the mirror. The black cocktail dress is the nicest thing you own with short sleeves, a white lace collar, cut off just above the knee. You pair it with your sensible black heels grabbing your clutch and heading out to catch a taxi.

When you pull up the lights from the restaurant twinkle and you gaze at the elegant people inside drinking champagne from tall flutes. You take a moment to imagine that’s you when you are interrupted by your thoughts by a tap on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, are you y/n? Michaels friend?” you turn and look at an attractive man with short cropped black hair, thin lips, blue eyes, and a suit with a purple waistcoat.

You nod smiling and reach out your hand, “Tom right?”

His grip is firm and his palms are sweaty as he holds your hand up to his mouth and gives it a sloppy kiss. You give a slight grimace as you pull your hand away and cover it up with a smile. “Shall we?” you gesture towards the hostess and he nods, putting his hand on your lower back as you’re both led to the table, his hand dipping lower and squeezing your ass.

He pulls out your chair and as you sit down and he leans toward you, “you look good enough to eat,” he murmurs in your ear and you have to suppress the uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach.

You try to laugh it off and concentrate on the meal. Conversation flows freely and you almost feel relieved until the end. “So why are you single?” he asks.

Your drink catches in your throat you sputter out a surprised, “what?” he ignores you continuing.

“I mean when Michael asked me if I wanted to go out with his friend I thought he meant one of those young things he goes out clubbing with every weekend. Obviously that isn’t you,” he takes a sip of his cocktail, “I mean you're pretty, but I think we both know this isn’t gonna go beyond tonight. So why don’t we just skip dessert and get out of here?”

You stare at him incredulously wondering if he’s actually serious and when he just takes another sip and gestures for the check you close your eyes sighing. When you open them again he is sliding his credit card to the waiter and you look around the restaurant trying to think of a way out when you feel eyes burning on you. You slowly turn to the left and see a large table filled with men and women in expensive suits and dresses. Sitting at the head of the table and fuming is Maxwell Lord the fourth.

Fuck.

You groan and put your head down rubbing at your temples. You hear the pen scratch against the pad and Tom hops up to his feet and slides on his coat, holding a hand out to you. “Let’s get out of here baby, and I will rock your world.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” you put your hands down flat on the table and look up at him.

“I just bought you dinner,” he scoffs, “it’s time for you to return the favor baby,” he moves to grab your wrist and you pull it quickly from his grasp.

“Please just leave, don’t make a scene,” you plead and he does what he’s done all night, ignored you.

He bends and gets right in your face sneering, “Now I see why your single, fucking bitch to good for anyone. Maybe if you got some, you wouldn’t have that stick so far up your as-” you slap him hard across the face. Tears burning in your own eyes.

He shakes his head in shock and the slap echoes across the restaurant, customers turning to stare. He rubs his cheek and looks like he’s about to explode grabbing the water glass closest to his hand he pours the entire contents of it hard at your face. The freezing water shoots in your eyes and you gasp as it soaks into your dress and into your underclothes. “Fucking bitch,” he shouts stomping out the door.

You close your eyes and reach for your napkin using it to clean off your face. You listen for the noise of the restaurant to resume to a gentle hum before you open your eyes. You do everything in your power to avoid the eyes of the other patrons, especially Maxwell Lord. The waiter comes up to your grimacing, “Can I get you anything honey?” she asks, holding out another napkin.

You shake your head no, gratefully accepting it and thanking her. She smiles lightly before leaving. You stand up and shiver, feeling the tendrils of water seep down your legs. Keeping your eyes straight ahead you walk out the door and suck in a large gulp of air, body trembling slightly as a cool breeze blows past. Instantly regretting the choice not to bring a coat.

“You know, when I said the next drink is on you...I didn’t think you would take it so literally,” your eyes close and head drops as Maxwell Lord’s voice charms behind you.

You sigh and turn towards him, taken aback at how he’s not smirking like you thought he would be. Instead his hands are clenching tightly in a fist and he looks downright boiling. Chest heaving, neck red, and a slight sheen of sweat on his brow.

“What do you want Mr. Lord?”

“I…” he unclenches his hand and runs it through his hair, “I wanted to know if you were alright, that was quite the scene inside… did he...did he hurt you?” his voice takes on a dangerous edge as your eyes raise to meet his own.

“No,” you reply breathlessly before coughing, “No, I’m fine.” You shiver again as another burst of air blows past.

You feel the heavy coat land on your shoulders before you see it. His suit jacket carefully pulls across your shoulders as he wraps it around you. You try to protest but he scoffs, “You’re freezing,” he chastises, “take the damn coat.”

You say nothing pulling your arms through the sleeves and wrapping the front around your chest. You're enveloped in the scent of fresh linen and something spicy from his expensive cologne, and you sigh. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“My limo is on it’s way, let me take you home,” he steps closer and you retreat. Defenses rising.

“Thank you but I would rather catch a cab then step foot in your sex mobile,” you turn away from him attempting to flag down a cab but having no luck.

He groans, “My sex mobile?”

“Yes. Who knows how many women you’ve fucked in there I don’t want to catch some disease. Plus I already told you once Maxwell Lord the Fourth that I am not some cheap whore, and believe it or not I meant it.”

“You don’t think I know that?!” he shouts and you whip around looking at him wide eyed. “Listen, I make it a habit of getting what I want. Whatever I want….women throw themselves at my feet, money freely flows, and I have a whole household of servants to do anything I want. I will admit that day I acted like an...an asshole but...you...you’re different.”

“When I saw that guy treating you the exact same way I had...and then when he tried to grab you, I saw...red. That fucking…” he takes a breath to calm himself, “I know it’s not what you want but I would feel much better if you let me bring you home.”

You observe him for another moment before nodding slowly. You just stare at each other, his breathing slowing and matching pace with yours and when the limo pulls up you both walk towards it, never breaking eye contact. You slid into the backseat and he follows his leg brushing your own.

“Where to sir?” the driver asks.

“Home,” he shouts back and your eyes widen.

“I thought you said you would take me home?”

“Yes, to my home. I want to take you out for a drink and being...well being me, I can’t do that without it causing a publicity nightmare…” He trails off looking at your wide eyes, “Is...is that okay?”

You get the feeling he doesn’t ask for permission very often and you slowly nod your head. This had to go down as one of the strangest nights of your life. Tom certainly turned out to be the villain in your fairytale but maybe there was still hope for at least a nice ending. The driver makes twists and turns and your stomach flips as his hand moves down to grasp the seat, finger brushing right against your own. Without thinking you move your pinky over to graze over his ring. You hear his breath catch as he links his pinky with your own.

The car pulls up to a gorgeous mansion with tall white columns and two marbled lion statues. The butler greets him at the door and you smile at him in greeting and hand over Maxwell’s coat. Maxwell takes your hand gently and guides you to another room. A large brown leather couch takes up the center of the room under a persian rug. A roaring fire in the fireplace illuminates the room in a warm glow, huge bay windows looking over an expansive garden and pool. He lets go of your hand and you feel the aftershocks slide up your arm from his touch.

He goes over to the bar on the far wall and pulls down two glasses. Filling a shaker with ice you watch as he meticulously fills it with vodka and vermouth, slapping the glass over it before he lifts it over his shoulder and shakes it furiously. You can see his arms flex under the white linen shirt he wears held in place by a pair of brown suspenders.

He slaps the side of the shaker to release it and strains them both into the glasses before spearing an olive and putting it into one glass and going to spear the other you shout, “No, please no olives,” he looks over at you eyebrow raised, “do you have any cherries?”

He says nothing, only removing another saucer and tossing two cherries into the other glass and carrying both over. He hands you the drink and clinks his glass against yours taking a sip. You watch, mouth dry, as he swallows and his neck stretches deliciously.

“Come,” he walks over to the couch and sits down patting the seat next to him.

You take the seat hesitantly beside him and take a sip savouring the taste. He puts down his drink on the small table in front of you and turns to you, “I think we got off on a rocky start…”

You snort, “you think?”

He glares at you before smiling, “Yeah...that was probably my fault. So why don’t we try this again,” he holds a hand out to you, “I’m Maxwell Lord the Fourth, CEO of Chimtech Consortium.”

You shake his hand feeling the electricity spark in your fingers again, telling him your name and adding the title of barista to the end. He repeats it slowly and feel yourself warm at the way your name comes out honeyed on his tongue.

The ice broke, the two of you into easy conversation talking about everything. All about his company, his family, what he likes to do when he gets a free afternoon, and even his favorite color. The more you learn about him the more you begin to unravel the mystery of Maxwell Lord. You’re both on your third vodka martini of the night when he brushes his fingers over your cheek.

“You have an eyelash,” he holds it on the tip of his finger putting it up gently to your lips, “make a wish,” he whispers.

You close your eyes and blow gently, lips pushed together and you sigh when you feel the press of his lips against your own. It’s hesitant and barely there and when he pulls away you surge forward pressing your chest against his own and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. He responds eagerly and pulls you close till you're straddling his waist on the couch, his hands running up and down your back. You groan as you feel him rub gently against you and he uses it to lick his tongue into your mouth.

You arch your back as you feel his tongue warm and velvety intermingle with your own. He scoots forward to the edge of the couch and pulls your legs to wrap around his waist. Hands moving lower to knead your ass gently through your dress. His foot kicks out and he knocks the drinks to the floor spilling onto the expensive rug. Glass shattering as they hit together just right.

You both pull away breathing heavy to look at the ground, the vodka seeping into the rug. You burst out laughing and he looks at you with that damn eyebrow cocked again, “What’s so funny?”

“I would like to get through one interaction with you without one of us spilling our drinks,” you tease eyes glittering as you smile at him.

His lips curve up and he lets out a chuckle, pulling you close to resume his kisses, “Ok, I’ll take the blame for that one sweetheart but the next one’s are on you.”

“Are you asking me out, Maxwell Lord the fourth?” you tease, pecking his lips gently.

“Yes,” he pulls away looking serious again, “What do you say?”

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again, “sure,” you let out breathlessly, “why the hell not?” Maybe you didn’t find your prince charming in Tom but something even better came along.

Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a thin older woman with grey hair in an immaculate Chanel suit stalks over to you, “Who the hell is this Trollope Maxwell?!” she screeches.

“Mother, please leave us alone,” he hisses.

Mother? Oh fuck, what have you gotten yourself into now.

Chapter Three: Orange Juice

#maxwell lord #Maxwell Lord x reader #Pedro Pascal #ww84 #Wonder Woman 1984

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lizardkingeliot · 3 years

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

#the magicians #queliot #otp: proof of concept #myfic

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gerrymike · 3 years

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OK. commentary on my satg playlist. For reasons

lol it wont let me hyperlink but. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0w9pMZtOvP0plqdxT665q7?si=wEFnvdh3Rjaa0p2UX251mQ&dl_branch=1 Plug

1. PIEDMONT (DESTROY BOYS)

Looks like I'm late for the party Everyone knows the attire but me Glass walls separate us Catch a glimpse into different books On different shelves

i.e. teen crisis where u want desperately to live the same life as ppl on the street but also can’t imagine anything worse

2. SWEET ADELINE (ELLIOTT SMITH)

It's a picture-perfect evening and I'm staring down the sun Fully loaded, deaf and dumb and done Waiting for sedation to disconnect my head Or any situation where I'm better off than dead

i.e. she’s alive! is that worse or better. also jfc, you fucking hate hospitals

3. ALAMEDA (ELLIOTT SMITH)

You walk down Alameda Shuffling your deck of trick cards over everyone Like some precious only son Face down, bow to the champion

also

Walk down Alameda Brushing off the nightmares you wish Could plague me when I'm awake And now you see your first mistake Was thinking that you could relate For one or two minutes she liked you But the fix is in

i.e. oops it’s two elliotts in a row, sorry. just. about the connection you can form with someone given just a short period of time, and how sometimes it gets ruined by, like, a werewolf. pretty similar to sweet adeline. mx weisglass gets two songs. plus “precious only son” 😬 “shuffling your deck of trick cards” 😬

4. CAN I PLAY WITH MADNESS (IRON MAIDEN)

Give me the sense to wonder To wonder if I'm free Give me a sense of wonder To know I can be me Give me the strength to hold my head up Spit back in their face

i.e. for Me mostly because i think the whiplash from elliott to maiden is kinda funny. also the gerry VS twisty animosity, in over-the-top wizardy terms. sometimes you are full of hate and that’s OK 😬

5. ICU (PHOEBE BRIDGERS)

If you're a work of art I'm standing too close I can see the brush strokes I hate your mom I hate it when she opens her mouth It's amazing to me How much you can say When you don't know What you're talking about

and

I'll climb through the window again But right now it feels good not to stand Then I'll leave it wide open Let the dystopian morning light pour in

i.e. we’re back in london…and, well, yeah. also, song title! we’re still in sacramento, actually, spiritually, at this point in the story

6. CRY FOR JUDAS (THE MOUNTAIN GOATS)

Feel the storm every night Hope it passes by Hallucinate a shady grove where Judas went to die Unfurl the black velvet altar cloth Draw a white chalk Baphomet Mistreat your altar boys long enough and this is what you get

i.e. crew. i think about him

7. IRIS (THE GOO GOO DOLLS)

And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life And sooner or later, it's over I just don't wanna miss you tonight

plus

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

i.e. OK. OK. OK. yeah, OK. damn right all you can taste is this moment…yeah OK. SONGS5

8. KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS (MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE)

It's been 8 bitter years since I've been seeing your face And you're walking away And I will die in this place

It's been 10 fucking years since I've been seeing your face round here And you're walking away And I will drown in the fear

i.e. ah…the lyrical differences in the chorus…yes…also i love how raucous this song is despite what it’s about. it’s got satg energy!!! “seeing your face”, of course, is not literal 😬

9. ENCHANTING GHOST (SUFJAN STEVENS)

Don't carry on carrying efforts, oh no, oh oh oh oh Somewhere there's a room for each of us to grow And if it pleases you to leave me, just go, oh oh oh oh Stopping you would stifle your enchanting ghost

and

Did you cut your hands on me? Are my edges sharp? Am I a pest to feed?

i.e. 😬😬😬

10. PAUL (BIG THIEF)

In the blossom of the months I was sure that I'd get driven off with thought So I swallowed all of it As I realized there was no one Who could kiss away my shit

and PARTICULARLY

Well Paul, I know you said That you'd take me any way I came or went But I'll push you from my brain See, you're gentle baby I couldn't stay, I'd only bring you pain

i.e. HARROWING TERRITORY!!!

11. PITSELEH (ELLIOTT SMITH)

I'll tell you why I Don't wanna know where you are I gotta joke I've been dying to tell you

i.e. sorry. a lot of elliott smith on this playlist. thems the breaks

12. OPHELIA (THE LUMINEERS)

Oh, Ophelia You've been on my mind girl like a drug Oh, Ophelia Heaven help a fool who falls in love

i.e. callbacks to SONGS5…! and more pain

13. CLOUDS (BORNS)

I forget all my dreams I forget everyones name I meet I forget about time and space But I can't stop thinking 'bout your face

i.e. tfw your memory’s shit and also you just threw yourself into the sky and you’re still not over it. yowch!

14. ARCADE (DUNCAN LAWRENCE)

Oh, oh-oh-oh oh Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

i.e. sorry i heard this song first in a c#tradora edit and i have never recovered.

15. WARS (OF MONSTERS AND MEN)

Yeah, I love you on the weekends But I'm careless and I'm wicked Yeah, I love you on the weekends It's a cruel war I still have pieces of you stuck on me Pieces of you stuck on me Yeah, I love you on the weekends It's a cruel war

i.e. PIECES OF YOU STUCK ON ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is the only song of the new omam i’ve heard. i never got around to listening to it. but this one slaps

16. MONTERO (LIL NAS X)

Lookin' at the table, all I see is weed and white Baby, you livin' the life, but baby, you ain't livin' right Cocaine and drinkin' with your friends You live in the dark, boy, I cannot pretend

AND

A sign of the times every time that I speak A dime and a nine, it was mine every week What a time, an incline, God was shinin' on me Now I can't leave And now I'm actin' hella elite

AND ESPECIALLY

I want that jet lag from fuckin' and flyin'

i.e. God i love this song. re: avatarhood. YOU CAN’T LEAVE!!! not saying it’s like being a celebrity, but it’s like being a celebrity. dual perspectives here with G + his morality regarding the person he loves being, uh, evil? (you live in the dark / i cannot pretend) and M + debt he owes to his god, erosion of his own morals. also, SHEER F*CKING VIBES

17. GEYSER (MITSKI)

You're my number one You're the one I want And you've turned down Every hand that has beckoned me to come

i.e. love songs that serve double as to your god and to your lover

18. THAT’S WHAT I LIKE (BRUNO MARS)

Jump in the Cadillac (Girl, let's put some miles on it) Anything you want (Just to put a smile on it) You deserve it baby, you deserve it all

i.e. this song is here because i say so. a real “sorry it’s been seven years let me make it up to you” vibe

19. RUN AWAY WITH ME (SUFJAN STEVENS)

And I say, love Come run away with me Sweet, falling remedy Come run away with me

i.e. more grand ridiculous propositions. more to come. but they’re born out of a real frustration with the situation at hand! it sucks! also, “falling remedy”,

20. LET’S GET MARRIED (BLEACHERS)

I'm gonna get right for you, honey I'll take all of my medicine, spend you all my money, yeah I know it's hard enough to love me But I woke up in a safe house singing, "Honey, let's get married"

i.e. bro.

21. I WILL (MITSKI)

And while you sleep I'll be scared So by the time you wake I'll be brave

i.e. a lot of these here are self explanatory..

22. ME & MY DOG (BOYGENIUS)

I had a fever Until I met you Now you make me cool

also

I never said I'd be all right Just thought I could hold myself together But I couldn't breathe, I went outside Don't know why I thought it'd be any better I'm fine now, it doesn't matter

i.e. title is significant. and yeah. just. recovery’s tricky

23. I FOUND (AMBER RUN)

And I've moved further than I thought I could But I missed you more than I thought I would

i.e. this is like a staple song for like. basically. any pairing. but i’m pathetic and it gets me every time. there’s something about it. not sure if i’m going to leave it on this playlist but. hm. yeah

OK that’s a wrap. highly likely i’ll put more songs on this as i go

#talk #i wrote this post instead of working. yay me

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

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17, 18, 30!

17. What fic are you most proud of?

Definitely, I Remember it All Too Well. It was like my first multi-chapter jolex story and I'm really proud of the way that it turned out. It definitely turned into something that was a lot more than the original idea that I had but I was just so happy with it!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

(Spoilers for I remember it all too well in case you want to read it beforehand.)

(Okay so little bit of background This takes place post 16x16, but Alex has recently moved back to Seattle they’ve trying to be in a relationship again. And as a result of them sleeping together, Jo is now unexpectedly pregnant. )

“Yeah, that’d be great, I’d love to have you guys here as much as you want and you can bring over whatever you need. You could move in if you wanted to?” Alex said but immediately regretted it as he watched Jo’s eyes grow wide. “You don't have to or anything and I know that with the kids, we should let them get to know each other before we try and combine our families, just never mind, forget I asked.”

(I feel like Alex was always the one to just jump in head-first, like for him walking away from Jo and coming back, he forgets that they didn't just put a pause on their relationship and that he can't just jump back in with things. He also realizes that he can't just move in with her or have her move in because of the kids they have, AKA the twins Alexis and Eli and Jo’s baby boy Asher. I've heard so many stories about step-siblings and step-parents. Also from my own experience with my older half-brother and my mom and their relationship, I know that it's really important to take it slow and not immediately try and play happy family. You need to acknowledge the feelings and wants of the children and create a relationship with them between the new person before you have them step in as a parent. I think that it's like that with any child that you work with.)

“Alex it's okay, really. I thought about it too,” Jo said before she looked down at the plate in her hands. “But you're right we should take things slow with the kids and let them get used to each other first, but then maybe we could give it a try.”

“I'd like that, there are two extra rooms upstairs so maybe in the next couple of months if things go well you could move in with me?” Alex offered with a shrug as Jo smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds good, maybe in less than a couple of months though,” Jo said, as she looked over at him with a kind of longing that he knew all too well. “I miss sleeping next to you.”

(I forgot how much I had these two pine over each other. I feel like, in seasons 12 and 13 especially there is a lot of pining and longing between them which I absolutely love writing.)

“Me too,” Alex said as he stared at Jo, her skin glowed from the pregnancy and suddenly he imagined what it would look like when she was further along with her round belly or even when she had their baby in her arms.

(So originally there wasn't a jolex baby in the story. iI was just Jo and Alex sleeping together at the wedding and then decided they wanted to be in a relationship and trying it out with all three of their kids. So the expected pregnancy and baby was like a late idea that I had had. I thought it added such a great level of drama to the story that I couldn't pass up the idea, even though I knew that it meant I would stretch out the epilogue. Also, I felt like it motivated Alex to show (not tell) Jo that he was all in with her. And that's something that I wanted him to do I wanted him to show through actions and the things that he did that had he loved her and that he was going to be there for her and their child and her son as well so that's why I had this scene.)

He could imagine what it would be like in a few months when they lived together, Jo would hold their baby and sit at the table as they ate together, with their three kids around them. He would sit next to her and have his arm around her shoulders as he talked with Eli, Alexis, and Asher about what they wanted to do that afternoon. He wanted them to all be a happy family together. He wanted it all right now and he hated that he had to wait for it to happen. However, Jo was right they needed to take things slow for the kid’s sake and he knew the wait would be worth it. She smirked as she caught him staring and came over to pull him out of his daydream with a quick peck to his lips.

(I don't know if you caught this but this is pretty much somewhat similar to what happens in the last scene I thought it was a really good little bit of foreshadowing.)

“I also got something for the twins, to help with the adjustment,” Jo said as she went back to the diaper bag and grabbed out a book before handing it to Alex.

It was a children's book titled ‘You're Getting a Baby Brother!’ Alex smiled as he flipped through the pages. The story detailed what it was like to live with a baby brother and Alex thought it was fitting, especially considering that if they were going to be a family it would include Asher as well as the baby Jo was pregnant with.

(So this is a real book you can find it on Amazon. I've read it before with my kiddos (I’m a teacher and I have nieces and nephews) and I figured that this book was a little really fitting for the twins with Asher.)

“This is great. I'm sure the kids will love it and it'll help them get used to Asher, although he's not a baby anymore,” Alex smirked as he smiled over at Jo and he couldn't help the way his eyes trailed down as he stared at her stomach. (Alex just can't help himself)

Jo caught his eyes and sighed as she shook her head with a smile. “You know, don't you?”

“Know what?” Alex said, looking back up at her as he played along, waiting for her to say it.

“You know that I'm pregnant,” Jo said, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to deny it and knowing that he wouldn't.

(I thought this would be really fun for Jo to not get to tell Alex she was pregnant and just realize that the way he was looking at her like that was because he already knew! And Alex figuring it out when he went to talk to Meredith was something that was discussed in the @thejolex chat and I was throwing around ideas with them for the epilogue. I can't remember who suggested it. But a lot of times everybody or throw around ideas or ask for help and we all talk about things and throw in dialogues or scenes and it's always really helpful! It's also very exciting to share something angsty and then get yelled at!)

“It wasn't really that hard to figure out,” Alex said with a wide smile, he was absolutely giddy at the thought of having a new baby with Jo.

Alex put the book on the counter and reached out to her. Jo allowed him to place one hand on her stomach as they both stared down at her belly. He knew that she still wouldn't be showing for a while, yet he was still disappointed when her stomach felt the same as it always did.

“I’m only eight weeks, so I’m not showing yet,” Jo said as if she was reading his mind as she placed her hand over his and they both looked down at her belly. “I've had Carina check me just to be sure. She did a full exam and work up and everything’s fine, but I haven’t scheduled the ultrasound. I wanted to wait until after I told you so you could come too.”

“You want me there for the ultrasound?” Alex asked, looking up at her again.

“Of course I do. I want you there for all of it Alex. I want you to be a father to our baby,” Jo said as she squeezed his hand.

(So this was Jo really want it because she knew how hard it was for Alex not knowing the twins until they were five and missing the first years of their life and not knowing Izzie was pregnant. So she knew how important it would be for him to be involved from the beginning and just how excited he would be to be there for the first ultrasound. It was also kind of a little bit of contrast between her and Izzie and the relationship they have with Alex. I feel like the two of them knew two very different Alex's. Alex was still kind of a frat boy when he was married to Izzie and he matured so much since then, especially in season 13. When he was with Jo he was much more mature. I feel like Jo knew the man that Alex is and Izzie knew the boy that Alex was.)

Alex was so relieved that even after everything he put her through, Jo was willing to allow him to be in their child's life. He thought that she would still be hesitant because he had left once before and he didn’t think that she wouldn't trust him again so easily. After breaking her heart he knew it wouldn't be so easy for her to trust him again, but he was so thankful that she was giving him his chance.

(So that’s it! I was really happy with this. I thought it was a good mix of cute and fluffy and serious development. For the story as a whole, I wanted Jo and Alex to rebuild their relationship in pieces, step by step. I do feel like I kind of rushed it a bit, wish I had broken it up into several more chapters or turned it into a sequel.

Originally this was just like a 1 + 5 story but it evolved into a lot more and although I'm really happy with it, if I was going to redo it I would draw it out more. Still, I really feel like the point in the story translated well. With any piece of writing, you're always going to look at it a second time and think, oh I could have done this differently, but I'm also really proud of what I was able to accomplish. Multi-chapter stories are really hard for me to finish and I was so happy that I was able to complete this one.)

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

So so many ideas I literally have at least 50 ideas for Jolex that I have not pursued.

The one that I really really want to write, that I have started writing, but I haven't finished it. I got kind of stuck and I haven't been able to go back to it. It’s this one where Alex calls Izzie to testify at Meredith’s trial. Alex hears the twins in the background and asks about her family and Izzie says that she has a husband and twins, Alexis and Eli.

Then Alex says that he's married to Jo and they're expecting a baby, so Izzie congratulates him, and then she agrees and comes out with her family. So they fly out and Jo and Alex meet Izzie, her husband, and Eli and Alexis. Then after the trial, Alex and Izzie start talking and Jo gets to know the twins and Izzie's husband and she starts to put together the pieces and she thinks that the twins might be Alex’s. So she goes to talk to Alex but sees Izzie and Alex together.

There is so much more drama than I haven't told you about! But I just thought about what it would be like if both Alex and Izzie have the same things in life. They each have a partner and kids and what if the twins were Alex's? What if they weren't Alex's? What would mean for both of their families and for their partners and what would happen? Would Jo share her thoughts about the twins being his with Alex's or would she keep that to herself? Would Izzie try and pursue Alex if they met up again? What would Alex do if he was faced with the choice between Jo or Izzie with the same steaks?

It's a really good idea and it's a really good story, but I got to a point where I think I got it got too big and I got overwhelmed. Then I got to a point where I got stuck and I didn't know where I wanted to take the story so I had to rethink that. Also, I haven't really had the time to pursue it, especially with T. S. Jolex week and then school started up, so I started working more hours since I'm a teacher. I just really haven't had the time to sit down and really plot out this story and try and pursue it again, but I really hope I get the chance to.

#ask me stuff #asks #writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #jo wilson #alex karev #grey's anatomy #otp: home and heart #jolex #grey's anatomy fanfic #my work

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years

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It was Wednesday before; Now it’s Wednesday again - AUgust Day 8

Joker Prompt: coffeeshop au

Title: It was Wednesday before, now it's Wednesday again Card Number: 016 Square Filled: "Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist" for Tony Stark Flash Bingo; I3: Time Loops for the Starkbucks Bingo Ship: Bucky/Tony, Steve/Nat Warnings: N/A Link: Read on AO3 Summary: Natasha and Tony have to figure out how to get out of a time loop

@tonystarkbingo

Prompted by @shrinkthisviolet I hope it meets up to your expectations!

+++++++++++

Wednesday Special… Large coffee & a scone for $4. Natasha reads on the chalkboard behind the counter. Wednesday, July 18th. Natasha hates this day. All it is is bad memories and emotion. This was the day that Clint saved her by jumping in front of a bullet. The day that she quit her job with the CIA. The day that… she needs to focus on something else.

“Large black mocha for Natasha!” The barista calls, and she walks up to the counter to get it. She thanks him. Spinning, she slams into a wall of muscle and spills her blazing hot coffee over said wall of muscle.

“Ow fuck! OW!” The man she runs into yells. “Shit. That’s hot!”

“I am so, so sorry,” She says, grabbing some napkins from the counter and dabbing against his chest.

The man takes the napkins from her and mutters. “You should really watch where you’re… go-inng.” His voice trails off as he looks at her. “I probably should have, too. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Um, sure.” She follows him, surprised, as he takes her hand and leads her to a table. “I had a large black mocha.”

He winks at her and walks back up to the cash register. He speaks a few moments with the barista, who nods. When he gets back to the table, he tells her. “They’ll bring it over, so you don’t spill it again.”

“Haha very funny.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “I’m Natasha. I am sorry for spilling my hot coffee on you. Are you sure you don’t want me to run you to the ER?”

“No thank you, I’m ok. My body can stand a little hot coffee.” The man smiles a blinding gigawatt smile. “I’m Steve.”

“Natasha.”

“Stark! You better have an explanation!” The guy two tables down from them shouts and rises from his chair. Steve turns a bright red.

The barista quickly comes out from behind the counter, a drink in his hand. “Oh, Buckyboo, what seems to be the matter?”

“This is not my fucking coffee. Who the hell drinks pumpkin spice mocha, especially in the middle of the summer?” His glare somehow grows darker as the barista approaches him. “Tony, I swear…”

“Relax sweetcheeks. I accidentally gave you my drink. Here’s yours. Now sit with me while I’m on break.” Tony smiles sweetly, and the so-named “Buckyboo" grumbles as he sits down across from him.

The other barista whistles. “What a way to flirt, dumbass!”

“Don’t be jealous, Platypus! I love you, too!” Tony blows him a kiss. “Platonically,” he says as if explaining to the man across from him.

Natasha is taken aback at the unprofessionalism of the baristas when she notices that Steve’s head has been in his hands since the whole exchange started. “I am so sorry. My friends are the worst. That’s Bucky, my best friend. He and Tony have this – I don’t even know what to call it -”

“Great love of the ages" Tony butts in.

“Anyways, Bucky is all tightly wound because he doesn’t know how to flirt.”

“That’s for damn sure!” The other barista says, and Tony whines. “Rhodeyyyybeaaaar.”

A police car wails past the shop, waking Natasha from her trance. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go.” Natasha puts her hands up. This craziness is not her cup of tea.

Steve puts a hand up but doesn’t touch her. “I’m sorry. Can we just start over? Hi, I’m Steve. I would say I’m sorry for getting in your way, but I think that fate brought us together.”

Well, this guy is very cute. He seems nice. “I guess.”

They sit and talk for a while until Natasha has to leave for work. The day goes by like normal, and she goes to bed. The next thing Natasha knows is she is standing at the counter at the coffeeshop, waiting for her coffee. Glancing up at the chalkboard, she reads: Wednesday Special… Large coffee & a scone for $4. Wait, yesterday was Wednesday…

“Large black mocha for Natasha,” The barista calls, and she steps forward to claim her coffee. What the hell is going on here? Thanking Tony, she spins and slams into Steve, spilling her coffee on his shirt.

“Ow, fuck. OW! Oh shit. That hurts!” Steve yells. Just like yesterday. Natasha looks around wildly.

She grabs napkins and dabs his shirt. “I am so so sorry.”

“Maybe you should just watch where you’re go…inng.” Steve once again trails off when he looks at her. “Actually, I probably should have, too. Can I buy you a drink?”

Natasha once again agrees, and Steve cracks a joke about her dropping another drink. Bucky angrily yells at Tony, who flirts shamelessly back. The cop car goes past. Steve convinces her to stay. She goes to work, gets home, goes to bed… and winds up back at the coffee shop!

“What the hell?” She mutters under her breath as she sees the Wednesday specials sign again. I cannot be stuck on this date. I cannot! She thinks as her anxiety skyrockets. Tony the barista looks at her weirdly, then calls. “Large black mocha for Natasha.”

She thanks him, spins and runs into Steve yet again. Everything happens the same as it did the past two days. I’m stuck in a fucking time loop! She growls.

As she heads to leave, Tony walks her to the door. “You’re stuck, too, right?” He asks.

“Wait. You’ve been having the same day, too?” She stops. “How long?”

Tony shoots her an exhausted glare. “Three fucking months. All the same, except that two days ago, you walk in. You’ve never been in here before. Why are you here?”

“Three months? I can’t be stuck like this for three months.” Natasha shudders. “I will kill someone.”

Tony’s eyes sparkle. “Oooh, maybe that will work. Want to try it?” He looks around the shop as if looking for the best candidate.

“How are you still so happy?” Natasha groans.

“I no longer care about this world. I can do literally anything, and it doesn’t matter. I’ve been trying to break this thing for three months. I’ve quit my job four times, I’ve cut my hand off on purpose, I’ve fucked Bucky on the counter – Steve was not happy but I was delirious, I’ve proposed to Rhodey like 6 billion times – he always says no and Bucky always crushes his portable cup, I’ve talked all day yike a five yeaw owld, and I’ve even come to work only in a loincloth. Nothing I do matters, and I have to not care, or I’ll go insane.” Tony grins manically. “Welcome to the madness.”

“There has got to be a way to break this, but I don’t know how. I don’t watch a whole lot of movies. How do they solve them in like Groundhog Day?”

“I don’t know. But in Naked, Marlon Wayans has to figure out who is trying to sabotage his wedding. In Palm Springs, they have to blow up the time loop thingy. I don’t know about any other time loop movies. Did someone curse us?”

“I don’t know. Is there someone we both know who hates us? Do you remember pissing anybody off before you got caught?”

Tony snorts. “I’m always pissing people off… it’s part of my brand. We just have to try new stuff, see if any of it works. Go to work and come back tomorrow. We’ll try new stuff. Next time don’t run into Steve. Let’s see if he notices you if not.”

Natasha leaves, goes to work, goes to sleep, and then she’s back in the coffee shop. Tony gives her the coffee, and she takes a step back to narrowly avoid Steve. “Woah! Are you o.. kayy?” Steve again stumbles on his words. “Can, can I buy you a drink?”

“I already have one, but I won’t say no to a conversation.” Natasha lifts up her cup. “Got a table?”

As Natasha and Steve sit, Bucky jumps out of his seat. “STARK YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Tony does a somersault over the counter, grabs Bucky’s coffee, and walks over to his table. “Hey sexy, take a seat. Here’s your coffeefee.” Tony pushes him down on the chair and straddles his lap. “Do you want to share it?” He takes a sip of the coffee and transfers it to Bucky’s mouth by shoving his tongue down Bucky’s throat. Bucky moans and reciprocates. Natasha watches in horror as Tony starts moving in Bucky’s lap, back and forth, up and down, until Steve screams “Enough!”

Tony shoots Natasha a smirk and slides off of Bucky’s lap. “Sorry Steve, I just love Bucky so much. I can’t keep my hands off of him.”

Steve shakes his head then turns to Natasha. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m an interior decorator. I’m in between clients at the moment, so I’m just sorting paperwork. How about you?” She knows. He’s a personal trainer.

Steve blushes a little. “Ah I’m a personal trainer. I know, it’s cheesy.”

“It suits you.” She leans on her hands. “You look great.”

She loves how easily Steve blushes. “Gee, well, thanks. You look good, too.” He scratches the back of his head.

They settle into an easy conversation, talking about a book they both read. She gets ready to leave to go into the office, and Steve asks, “Hey I know this is soon, but would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiles and presses a kiss on his lips. “Sure. Let me give you my number. Want to meet tonight?” Tony gives her a thumbs up behind Steve’s back.

Natasha hopes that something different will stop her loop. Steve takes her out to dinner, but when she falls asleep that night, she ends up back in the coffeeshop. Tony gives her a pout when she returns. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t.” Tony grumbles. “Now we have to think of other things.”

“What if we both reject Steve and Bucky?” Natasha wonders.

He shakes his head. “I thought about that. But I don’t want to do it. I’m afraid that if I do, it will be the time it sticks, and I can’t lose Bucky. He means so much to me.”

“Come on. Just try it. You can blame it on your meds or something. Everyone knows you’re in love with him.”

“Fine.” Natasha throws her cooled-down coffee in Steve’s face, and Tony pointedly ignores Bucky. Natasha goes to sleep, and once more is in the coffee house.

“See? Bucky doesn’t even know.”

He shoots her a glare. “You better be happy he doesn’t. I would kill you.”

A month goes by, and they are still stuck on the damn Wednesday. Natasha falls more and more in love with Steve. She knows he won’t remember her as much, and it hurts her. One day, Tony claps her on the shoulder. “Last ditch effort. You have to sleep with Steve.”

She spits out her coffee. “No, I’m not going to do that. He doesn’t even really know me, and I know too much about him. It’s not right.”

“Fine. But we’re never getting out of here.” Tony groans. Natasha can’t help but agree.

Natasha tries to think of any reason why she would be cursed to live the rest of eternity on this day. The worst date of the year. She hates July 18th with a passion. Tony sits across from her. “So, I had a thought.” He begins. “What if the time loop is trying to tell us something?”

“Did something traumatic happen to you on this date?” Natasha interrupts.

Tony nods. “This was the day my butler died. And then, a few years ago, my uncle tried to kill me. Not a great day for me at all.”

“What if we have to let go? My partner was killed on this day. He took a bullet for me. I have not wanted to face this day ever since.”

“Seems like we’ve got some spiritualizing to do.” Tony comments. “I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Romanov.”

“How do you…”

“Know your name? I’m a tech genius who runs a multi-billion-dollar tech company. And you want to know how I know your last name.” Tony crosses his arms. “Honestly though, your last name is on your credit card.”

“If you’re a tech genius, why are you a barista?” Natasha is confused. She’s usually good at reading people, but Tony was closed off.

He grins. “Community service. I beat up a guy at a bar for hitting on a girl who didn’t want him. I work every Wednesday for about a year. Except that now, every frickin day is Wednesday.” Tony tilts his head and looks at her. “You don’t know who I am, do you. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, at your service. Well I was a playboy until I met Bucky. He came in every day, and we flirted. I asked him on a date, and it went well, but after that, he seemed to shut me out. Steve told me that Bucky is very… maybe insecure is the word? He gets very nervous when he likes someone, and he clams up. So, I’ve been flirting with him. I love Bucky, Nat. I hope he feels the same when we get out of this.”

“Same with Steve. How fucked up is that – I am desperately in love with a man who won’t even know me?”

Bucky and Steve come in for their evening coffee. Tony latches onto Bucky immediately, leaving Natasha to talk with Steve. She has her normal evening conversation with him, when she hears Tony say to Bucky, “You probably will think I’m fucking crazy, but I’m not. You are because I’m crazy, and you’ve fucked me plenty of times. That’s beside the point. Listen Bucky, I love you. I love you so much, and I would gladly spend the rest of my days living in this hellish day if it means I can spend it with you.”

Steve looks over at them weirdly. “What’s going on with him?”

“He’s right. And I should say it, too. I love you with all my heart. I know you’ve only “just met me” but I have known you for like two months now. I love you, and if I have to “meet” you again every day, I will do so.”

“Okayyyy?” Steve looks at her like she has grown two heads. “I think I’d like to get to know you more before I just declare love to you, if that’s ok.”

“That’s more than fine.” Natasha smiles wetly. She kisses him goodnight and goes home.

The next morning, she wakes up… in her own bed. Pulling out her phone, she looks at the date. July 19th. Hallelujah. All it took was being emotionally vulnerable? She should have done that months ago. Quickly getting dressed and ready for her day, she runs out the door to the coffee shop. Tony is sitting at Bucky’s table, wearing a suit, not a barista uniform. “July 19th?” He asks. “July 19th.” She confirms. A voice behind her clears its throat. She stiffens because she knows that distinct sound. Steve. Turning, she plasters on a smile. “Hello.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I remember the past three months? It’s kind of confusing because it feels like it’s been three months, but it’s still July.”

“Time loops do that to you.” Tony grins.

Bucky takes his hand. “Did we actually fuck on the counter?”

“Multiple times.” Tony tells him. Bucky nods with an approving smirk on his face. “Awesome.”

Steve shudders. “I’m glad I don’t have that memory. Oh, and Natasha? I love you.”

#coffeeshop au #time loop #romanogers #steve x natasha #winteriron #buckytony #tony stark bingo #tony stark flash bingo #Starkbucksbingo2020 #au_gust_2020 #i write!

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star-spangled-eyes · 4 years

Text

Forbidden: Part 4: Queen of the Night

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Some content in the first part are direct words from TRR Book 3, Chapter 16. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: The Queen of Cordonia as an adulteress

Pairing: King Liam x MC / Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, heavy angst, drama of course, very steamy sex scenes in each part -- IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DO NOT READ THIS SERIES. Also, if you do not like reading smut, especially mine, please do not read this series.

Series Description: Forbidden is an extremely steamy story that takes place in Cordonia picking up the night of Bragnae’s bachelorette party in Las Vegas. She accepted King Liam’s proposal, despite also being in love with Drake. But when Liam gives Bragnae permission to have one last fling before they’re hitched, she chooses Drake.

Even though Bragnae tells him their dalliance is for one night only, Drake can’t seem to let it go. Once they return to Cordonia and the King marries his betrothed, Drake convinces Bragnae to embrace the forbidden pleasure of being with him in addition to filling her role as queen – consequences be damned.

Master List

A/N: I’m sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out. I had a writing lull for a few weeks, and my mini series, Dirty Mind, had to be written before Part 4 of Forbidden. Thank you all for your patience! This is a fun and exciting chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, sex (lots!), suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 8975

Setting for this chapter: Liam returns to the palace, and Bragnae has her coronation.

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @moonlightgem7

Series Tags: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @silverofdreams @texaskitten30 @mskaneko @jemrmax2love @nomadics-stuff @queenjilian @yukinagato2012 @ravenpuff02 @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @moneyfordiamonds

Part 4:Queen of the Night

Bragnae waited in the Grand Hall for her husband to stroll through the front doors any minute. She was looking forward to seeing him again, but feared he’d be able to read her face. He’d be able to see the shame and guilt that filled her.

Wearing a plain black dress that hugged her curves, she stood there with her hands locked together in front to keep from fidgeting. With each passing second, her nerves spiked with more anxiety. She knew she was a horrible wife. A week and a half into her marriage and she was already turning to another man to fill her desires.

But it wasn’t just any man. It was Drake. And she was in love with him. In her mind, this made things different – not that infidelity was acceptable in any form. But she felt she could justify her actions because of the deep level of feelings she had for Drake.

This whirlwind romance with Liam happened so suddenly that made it feel more like a fantasy than real life. She had abandoned her old life in New York on a whim to compete for a foreign prince’s hand in marriage. When does that ever happen? In the life she knew before Cordonia, things like that didn’t exist.

If Liam and Drake were New Yorkers, same as her, and she met them and got to know them both, Bragnae would have dated each of them separately to see which one she was more compatible with. And over time, when it felt right, then she might get married to one of them. Instead, Liam became king and the pressure was on for him to have an official queen by his side. There was no waiting.

And because Drake hadn’t told her of his feelings yet, Bragnae felt she had no other choice. She loved Liam. That wasn’t the issue. But in this rushed fantasy world, she had to go along with the plan of the kingdom even if she wanted more time to enjoy the engagement.

Now, as queen, she felt as if she missed out on how her life was supposed to be. And Drake was helping her to cope with that. Having her figurative cake and eating it too gave her control where she felt she lost it. Bragnae had a conscience and definitely knew it was wrong to sleep with Drake on the side, but a bigger part of her who craved control, as well as her desire to be with Drake, had won out.

Bragnae’s thoughts were interrupted when she heard a servant announce Liam’s presence. She looked to the door to see her handsome husband strolling in with a huge smile on his face. She watched as he walked past a few of his aids keeping his eyes on her.

Liam hastened over to her, scooping Bragnae into his arms as he kissed her with fervor. After a moment, he sat her back down on the ground allowing his kiss to linger still.

“Liam,” she smiled up at him. “Everyone’s looking.”

He obstinately kissed her again. “Let them look. I don’t give a fuck. I missed my beautiful wife.”

“I missed you, too.” She ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and into his hair. “How was your trip back?”

Liam shook his head. “Nope. We’ve got more pressing matters to address right now.”

“Like what?”

Liam grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the stairs. “Like getting you out of that dress. I want to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

As soon as they were through the double doors of the royal suite, Liam pressed Bragnae up against the nearest wall. He kissed her heartily letting his hands roam over her curves until he found the hem of her dress. He pulled the fabric up over her waist, and dropped to one knee.

His piercing blue eyes locked with hers as his fingers found the lace of her panties, pulling them down her smooth legs. He helped her out of the material one by one, then ran his hand up one of her legs before tossing it over his shoulder.

He gave her a wicked smirk. “Have I told you that I love seeing you from this angle? You look so sexy,” he paused to look down at her pussy. “Good enough to eat.”

Bragnae braced one hand on the wall and another on Liam’s head as he leaned forward to cover her clit with his mouth. She closed her eyes feeling his tongue swirl and lap against her making her feel dizzy. Gripping his hair, she moaned as he slid two fingers into her thrusting rhythmically as his tongue brought her closer to the edge.

“Oh, God, Liam,” she panted. Her mind went blank except for what his skilled mouth was doing to her.

He removed his fingers to spread her lips with both hands, diving further into her nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. Bragnae felt his long tongue fuck her over and over before gently circling her entrance. The teasing was almost too much to bear.

She felt her body start to tense. Her short, anticipating breaths preparing her for the pleasure that sat within reach. Liam flattened his tongue against her, running it up to her clit again. His fingers returned to her soft insides rubbing deliberately at the spot that would release the ecstasy she craved.

She shouted his name as waves of pleasure took over her body. Her knees grew weak, and her body slumped against the wall as the incredible orgasm ran its course. Liam kissed around her clit, slowing his fingers allowing her to enjoy herself without too much stimulation. He always knew to do that making the experience even more amazing.

Liam removed his hand so both could hold Bragnae in place before working his tongue down to her entrance again, savoring her. “You taste so good – just like a queen should. Sweet and ready for her king.”

Bragnae exhaled a heavy breath, her clit throbbing making her shiver with delight. “You’re amazing, Liam.”

“I know,” he chuckled, untangling himself before standing up. “Now, let’s get you out of this dress, so I can really show you how amazing I am.”

Bragnae still felt limp as Liam skillfully removed the rest of her clothes. He kissed her again before scooping her into his arms. “Come on, we’re going to need a chair for this.”

As it always did, the orgasm she received from Liam kept her in a daze. He could literally do anything he wanted, and she wouldn’t give a damn. He placed her down in front of a padded chair and guided her forward to kneel on it. He made sure she was steady as she rested her hands on the back of the chair before he removed his clothes.

Bragnae finally started to regain control of her breath when she heard Liam’s pants drop to the floor. She wanted more of him, and had no objections to being completely at his mercy.

Liam stepped up to her, pressing his erection into her lower back. His arms snaked around to her front, holding her close as he lowered his lips to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Bragnae. You’re going to scream so loud that everyone in the world will know you’re mine.”

She shuddered at his words feeling a guilty panic that somehow he knew she had sex with Drake while he was gone. Being who he was, Liam was naturally assertive in the bedroom. He loved to claim Bragnae as his, but it wasn’t very often that he spoke like this.

She decided if he knew she had been unfaithful to him, they’d be talking rather than fucking, so she relaxed and focused on his hands on her body instead.

Liam gently pushed Bragnae forward, straddling the chair as he guided his cock inside her. She whimpered feeling his length stretch her insides. Once he was in, he pulled her upright again. Restricting her arms, Liam slinked his right arm over her biceps, bringing his other hand up to her throat as he thrusted into her.

The top of Bragnae’s head bounced off Liam’s shoulder with every movement. Her eyes stared at the blue and gold decorative molding on the ceiling until they fluttered shut from the pleasure of Liam’s cock reaching deep inside her. He was in complete control of her body, and it was such a turn on.

The angle at which he was entering her was perfect, hitting the very spot he provoked just a few minutes ago. “Do you want to come, my queen?” He asked with another purposeful thrust, which made her cry out.

“God, yes. I’m so close, Liam.” Her words escaped in a whisper from the way he held her neck.

“Don’t come until I say,” he told her as he continued to move in and out of her. Bragnae’s back arched and her stomach jutted forward each time Liam drove into her. He pulled her face towards his in an uneven kiss. “I want to hear you scream, my love. Don’t hold back.”

Bragnae didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. He was scratching the itch she had, and an explosive response was imminent. “Liam, please. Say it.” He had commanded her orgasms before, and it was incredibly hot each time. Torturous, but hot.

Liam laughed wickedly in her ear as he grunted along with his precise movements. “I love when you beg for it. You’re so sexy.” He dropped his hand to pinch her nipple between his fingers. “Come with me, baby.”

After denying herself the pleasure for several moments and nearly losing it all together, Bragnae released the flood gates and a loud, deserving moan. She gasped for air as Liam groaned, his face pressed into her neck. Their movements slowed, and Liam released her arms so he could wrap his own around her.

He placed sweet kisses on her neck. She felt completely satisfied and like putty in his arms. As soon as he pulled out of her, Liam took her in his arms again and brought her to the bed. He let out a deep sigh as his back hit the mattress. Bragnae immediately curled up next to him, slinging her leg over his waist.

She placed a few soft kisses on his chest. “You always make me come so hard, Liam. I love it, and I love you.” Bragnae looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were curled into a big smile.

“Well, that’s my job as your husband.” He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at her. “Never ever do I want to leave you unsatisfied.”

She grinned. “I appreciate that.”

He held her close to him. “I know you do.” Liam exhaled contentedly. “I have a few things to tend to this afternoon, but other than that, this is all I want to do today.”

“That sounds nice, but our friends were hoping to have a movie night with us tonight. Are you up for it?”

He sighed. “Oh, I suppose so. If it was anyone but them, I’d say no.” Liam shifted so Bragnae was beneath him. “But we will be doing this again before the day is over.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” she said, arching her neck to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

“Good.” He bent down to kiss her again before getting off the bed to get dressed.

After taking another moment, Bragnae did the same. She slipped her black dress over her body, and bent down to retrieve her panties. As soon as she lifted them up, Liam snatched them from her.

“What are you doing? Give me those back,” she said in a playful tone.

She watched as he stuffed them into his pocket, and leaned in cupping her cheek. “Do you know how sexy it is knowing you’re not wearing any panties under that dress?” He pressed his lips against hers in a way that fueled the flame inside her again. “It will be so much easier for me to find my way later,” he murmured as his fingers gently lifted the hem of her dress, grazing her inner thigh.

Bragnae shivered beneath his touch. No matter what he did, Liam always seemed to captivate her. She was melting and already primed for round two.

“Let everyone know to meet us in the theater room after supper. I’ll see you later, my love.” He gave her another brief kiss before leaving their suite.

He sure did know how to leave her wanting more. She bit her lip dreaming of the next time she’d feel his hands on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drake spent the day doing whatever he could to keep his mind busy. He spent a couple hours in the gym, and after he showered, found himself playing pool in the recreational room. He knew Liam had returned and Bragnae was occupied no doubt.

His mind was constantly filled with thoughts of her. Luckily, he knew he’d have an outlet for those thoughts now that she was open to this scandalous arrangement of theirs. But, it still didn’t make it any easier knowing she was off fucking her husband somewhere in the palace. He didn’t know when he’d get to be with her again, but he was determined to make it sooner than later.

Bragnae had sent a group text to him, Maxwell and Hana letting them know of their movie night plans, and this brought a sense of relief to Drake. At least he’d get to see her even if it was in front of everyone else.

Later, Drake grabbed a quick dinner from the kitchen, and headed to the theater room. It was generous in size and could seat up to twelve people in the leather, power-reclining chairs that sat stadium style. There was a huge, blank wall that was perfect for a projector to play any movie they wanted, and a popcorn and soda machine in the back corner of the room.

Drake was the first to arrive, so he took a seat in the front row, but not direct center in case Liam and Bragnae wanted those seats. Liam usually preferred the front row. It was easier for him to leave in case his duties called him away. Plus, he liked seeing the screen without anything in front of him. Drake did too.

To his surprise, Bragnae walked in next. Alone. His eyes lit up as he watched her walk in his direction.

“Hey, Drake.” She gave him a casual smile. Not one that said fuck me now, however. He was aware of the attendant by the refreshment stand, and assumed she was just being careful. Still, he’d give anything to see that sultry look on her face. It had almost been 24 hours since he last touched her, and that was too long.

“Hi, Bennett.”

“Did you save me a seat?” She asked.

“Sure did,” he responded with his arm gesturing to the chair next to him.

“Great! I’m going to grab some popcorn. Want some?” Her eyes scanned his body. He noticed them lingering on the bulge in his pants, and he smirked.

“No, thanks. If I want any later, I’ll just steal some of yours.”

“Ha! Not on your life. I am serious about my popcorn, mister. Don’t get any ideas,” she said with that sass he loved before walking over to the stand.

He smiled to himself over their banter letting his mind wonder over what he’d do to her in this room if they were alone and weren’t expecting other people to join them. The seats were big enough for her to straddle him just fine. He was getting hard imagining her riding him with a movie on in the background and the lights down low.

Bragnae sat down in the chair next to him, putting a drink in their shared cup holder. She tucked her legs under her, and happily began eating her popcorn. The delicious buttery smell wafted towards him. He couldn’t help but look in her direction.

“You really wouldn’t share your popcorn with me, Bennett?” He narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his lips curling up.

She stopped chewing and looked over at him. Drake watched her eyes dart over to the attendant in the corner, and then turn her head towards the door. He was curious what she was thinking about until she reached in her popcorn bucket and pulled out a piece of popcorn. She slowly brought it to his lips.

He opened his mouth as she popped the piece in letting her finger linger for a moment. Drake took the opportunity to draw his lips over her finger, tasting the buttery flavor as she slowly pulled back. Their eyes stayed fixated on each other the entire time.

Bragnae used her finger to pull down on Drake’s bottom lip ever so slowly before drawing her hand back. She put another piece of popcorn into her own mouth making sure to suck on the same finger he did. It was erotic as hell. Drake had to take a deep breath to calm his arousal.

Unfortunately, their playful popcorn escapade had to come to an end when Maxwell and Hana strolled into the room.

“Hey guys! Ready for movie night? Ooh! Popcorn!” Maxwell said in a flash as he rushed over to the refreshment stand.

“I sure am. What are we watching tonight?” Hana asked, taking a seat in the row behind Bragnae and Drake.

Bragnae took a sip of her drink before responding. “Thor! You’ll love it, Hana.”

“What’s it about?” She asked.

“He’s part of the Avengers, Hana,” Maxwell replied in between bites of popcorn.

“Oh, I don’t know who they are,” Hana said, sinking into her chair.

Drake shook his head. In some ways, Hana led a sheltered life. It wasn’t her fault, but it did provide entertainment every now and then. She was like an alien learning the customs of Earth for the first time.

Bragnae turned around in her chair to face her. “They’re a group of hot guys with lots of muscles. Thor’s the best, not to mention the hottest.”

“Oh, come on!” Drake said in disgust. “Thor? Really?”

Bragnae turned to face him. “Yeah. Are you jealous?”

Drake cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at her. There were so many comebacks he wanted to use, but they weren’t appropriate in front of the others. He wanted to hoist her up to fuck her against a wall, showing off his muscles. He wasn’t jealous at all. He had plenty of what Thor had, save for the part of being a god.

“Jealous of who?” Liam asked as he walked in the room.

“Thor, the God of Thunder,” Maxwell chimed in as he munched on more popcorn.

Liam took a seat on the other side of Bragnae. “Oh, that guy? Psht. I’ve got the blonde hair, blue eyes and muscles for days, too. I’m hotter than he is, right?”

Drake snorted at his friend’s sudden need for validation.

“Of course you are,” she replied before turning back to Hana to shake her head. Hana giggled.

“Hey! I saw that!” Liam chided with a playful, but bitter scowl.

Bragnae laughed. “I’m kidding, baby. I promise.”

“You better be,” he replied, pulling her in for a kiss.

Drake turned to face the blank wall ahead of him. He suddenly felt this movie was a bad idea. No matter what he told himself, seeing Bragnae and Liam interacting together as a couple was difficult. She was giving Drake the attention she could, when she could, but it wasn’t enough for him. And then, he literally had a front row seat to their public displays of affection.

Drake had half a mind to bail before the movie began, but then they’d all wonder why. It was best if he just stayed put, then he wouldn’t have to explain himself. And if this was the only time he’d get with Bragnae that day, then… so be it. He sighed and settled into his chair.

After another moment of incessant chatting, Liam asked the attendant to start the movie. The lights lowered and everyone reclined their chairs to get comfortable. Drake watched Bragnae out of the corner of his eye. She cuddled the side of her chair closest to Liam. Their fingers woven together on their shared armrest.

She was too far away from Drake for him to discreetly touch her during the movie, and he hated that. It was probably best not to play with fire anyway, especially when it was right in front of Liam. He wanted to be where Liam was – holding her hand, sharing her bucket of popcorn, kissing her whenever he felt like it. This fucking sucks.

About halfway through the movie, Bastien poked his head in. “Your Majesty? May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back, guys.” Liam said, walking out the door.

Bragnae asked the attendant to pause the movie. Maxwell immediately started asking Hana what she thought of the film so far. Drake tuned out the chatter and focused on Bragnae instead. She had turned to face the other two chiming in occasionally with her opinion.

He looked over her body. Her legs curled up next to her. They were within reach, and so was her hand. The lights were still turned off. It would be the perfect cover. He reached over and took a swig from Bragnae’s drink, and after placing it back in the cup holder, he casually slid his hand over to her side of the chair.

His hand flattened against her bare leg. He felt her tense for a moment, no doubt from the surprise of his touch, but then she relaxed as he continued to moved up. Drake slipped his fingers under her hand, and watched as she slowly tightened her grip around him.

She kept a steady conversation going. She was getting better at not getting distracted when she was in front of others. That was good. It meant she was growing more comfortable with him touching her in public. Drake smiled inside. Having this physical contact with her meant so much.

Then, Liam came back. “Hey, Bragnae. Will you come here for a second?”

She immediately let go of Drake’s hand, and stood from her chair casually. Thankfully, the darkness of the room concealed his shameful efforts to intimately touch the queen.

“Go ahead and keep playing the movie, guys. We’ll be right back.” Liam told them, placing a hand on the small of Bragnae’s back as they left the room.

Drake sighed as he begrudgingly settled back into his chair to watch the movie. With Bragnae gone, what the fuck was the point anyway?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liam led Bragnae to a small parlor just down the hall from the theater room. It was decorated like a cigar lounge with dark furniture and mahogany walls. There was a small fire place against the far wall, and a round table in the middle of the room.

“What’s going on, Liam?” Bragnae asked, feeling concerned that he took her somewhere more private.

Liam closed the door behind her, sighing as he rubbed his forehead. “My father collapsed again today.”

“Oh no. Is he okay? Should we go see him?”

Liam shook his head. “No, he’s fine. He insisted that I not make a special trip to his room to see him. Only when it was convenient, he said. The doctor told him to do more resting than anything else, and to stay away from anything stressful. He wants to be able to attend your coronation in a few days, so he’s taking the doctor’s orders seriously.” His gaze fell to the floor.

Bragnae raised her eyebrows in surprised. She knew Constantine didn’t like her much, so she was stunned to hear how enthusiastic he was for her to be officially crowned queen. She skimmed her hands over Liam’s chest, stepping into him. “I’m sorry, honey. I know it must be painful to watch him go through this.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “It is. I know his time is coming, but it’s just so hard to watch such a strong man succumb to this condition when he never let anything slow him down before.”

Bragnae ran her hands up his neck and into his hair, lightly massaging his head as she spoke. “We’ll just make sure we spend as much time as we can with him.”

He nodded leaning his forehead against hers. “Thank you for being so supportive.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” Bragnae stood on her toes, brushing her lips against his in a tender and loving kiss.

Liam drew back with a smile on his face. “I love your lips. So full of passion and love.” He bent down to take her mouth again, this time more ardently than before. His hands traveled down her backside and to her thighs as he picked her up, setting her down on top of the table.

The wooden surface was cool on her bare legs. She looked up at him seeing a familiar heat in his eyes. He trailed a hand over her breast, and down her body, letting it linger near the hem of her dress.

“I’m a little surprised you’re turned on after hearing about your father.” She smirked up at him, her fingers dancing over the buttons of his shirt.

He chuckled softly. “Well, it’s not because of what I heard that I’m turned on.” He looked over her body, sighing with appreciation. “It’s all you. I can’t help but feel this way when you’re around.” Liam flattened both of his hands on her thighs focusing his attention on them. As his hands slid up, he slowly spread her legs until they were wide enough that he could stand between them.

He pulled her body so it was flush against his. She could feel how hard he was for her already, and gasped as tingles shot to her core.

“I knew this no panties thing would come in handy today.” He smirked down at her.

Bragnae reached for the zipper of his pants, bringing it down as she held his gaze. “That’s why you’re the king. You’re always thinking ahead.” She unbuckled his belt, and popped the button to his slacks open before sliding them and his boxers down his hips, not quite revealing her prize.

Extending her hand past the elastic band of his boxers, she wrapped her fingers around his rock-solid cock. She stroked him gently a few times before releasing him from the fabric. Liam groaned from her touch, watching her hands move against him.

Bragnae drew her hand away slowly, and laid back on the table, keeping her eyes on his the whole time. “Liam, I want you to fuck me right here.”

He pressed his palms onto the wooden surface, leaning over her body. “It would be my pleasure.” He dipped down to kiss her softly. “And yours.”

She shivered with delight as he gripped his cock and guided it into her. Bragnae arched her back as he pushed his way in, moaning from the pleasure she already felt as her walls tightened around him.

Liam gripped her thighs to hold her in place as he thrusted into her over and over. “You look so good sprawled out over the table.”

“It’s so hot watching you drive into me like that.” Even though he still had his shirt on, she could see his bulging biceps strain against the fabric as he worked. His handsome face adorned with a look of fire and determination. He grinned wickedly as his pace and force increased.

Bragnae lost her breath from the intensity of his movements. His pelvis slammed against her clit as he filled her with every thrust, sending a satisfying thrill through her body. Her fingertips gripped the table top, feeling her release beckoning.

Liam grunted. “You’re close, baby. I can feel it. You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock.” He closed his eyes breathing heavily. “You’re going to make me come too fast.”

“Liam… Liam…Liam!” The orgasm struck fiercely, lifting Bragnae off the table with a loud cry that teetered off into ragged breaths before she dropped back down to the table.

“Fuck yes,” he said through gritted teeth. Liam’s pumps slowed until he eventually held still inside her. His head fell back as he exhaled sharply.

Bragnae mustered the strength to sit up so she could wrap her arms around him. She needed to feel his lips on hers, and luckily he felt the same. She reveled in their lazy, but comforting kiss.

“I love you,” she said softly.

Liam kissed her again. “I love you more.”

Hana helped pluck the eight pound ceremonial crown off Bragnae’s head, and replaced it with a bejeweled golden tiara embellished with rubies and diamonds. She had just been crowned Queen of Cordonia – officially – and now it was time to celebrate.

Liam had invited dignitaries from neighboring kingdoms to her Coronation Ball, and tonight she would be honored. Her elaborate gown was a deep crimson with beads and crystals sewn in throughout. Liam wore a matching coat, and looked stunning as he placed the crown on top of her head.

Three days had passed since she saw her friends for the movie night. Bragnae was swept up in a whirlwind of activities and a jam packed schedule to prepare for her coronation among other things. She hadn’t even had the time to sneak off with Drake, and it was beginning to take its toll.

She’d catch glimpses of him in the hallways, giving him rueful smiles as she passed hoping he understood how busy she was. There wasn’t even time to have a five minute conversation with him, let alone strip their clothes and become one together. It was even hard to find time to be with Liam with as busy as they both were, and they shared a bed at night. Needless to say, Bragnae’s stress level was through the roof, and she was more than happy to be finished with the ceremonial part of the evening.

Hana walked with Bragnae to the entrance of the ballroom where Liam was waiting to escort her.

“There you are Queen Bragnae,” Liam said, bringing her hand to his lips. “Ready for your ball?”

She nodded. “Of course.” Liam held out his bent arm for Bragnae to slink her hand through as the double doors to the ballroom were opened.

The herald stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen of Cordonia, distinguished guests. May I present His Majesty King Liam and Her Majesty Queen Bragnae.”

The room erupted in a roaring applause as they made their way through the crowd. Liam led her to the stage where a long table was set up for them and their closest confidants. Once they reached their seats and before they sat down, Liam addressed the crowd.

“Thank you all for joining me on this momentous occasion to celebrate the coronation of our beautiful Queen Bragnae. Please, enjoy the evening as we honor her.” Liam kissed her cheek and sat down as did the rest of the room.

Drake sat on the other side of her husband with Hana to her right. As dinner was served, Bragnae would steal a few glances at Drake when she looked towards Liam. He was wearing a gray suit and looked very handsome. It had felt like such a long time since they last touched, much less spoke, and it was incredibly hard not to dive into a conversation with him without something substantial to say. She didn’t want to give herself away with Liam sitting in between them witnessing the whole thing.

As they finished their meals, Bastien walked up to Liam, lowering his head to speak with him. “Your Majesty, your father would like a word with you. He’s in the royal lounge.”

Liam nodded as he began to stand up. Elegant classical music started playing from the quartet in the corner of the room. Liam cursed low as he straightened his jacket, turning to Drake.

“Drake, would do me a favor and dance with my queen, so she doesn’t miss the first one of the evening? I have to go speak with my father.”

Bragnae’s heart fluttered at her husband’s request. She immediately turned to Drake who was already making a face.

“You’re asking me to dance? Really, Liam?” He asked in his usual snarky tone. Her eyes met his briefly as she waited for their exchange to play out. She couldn’t wait to feel his hands on her again, and Liam was giving them the opportunity.

Liam put a hand on his shoulder. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, old friend, but I just can’t bear to see my lovely wife sit on the sidelines while I have to tend to my father. What do you say?”

Drake looked at the table in front of him and sighed loudly before looking back at Bragnae. “Alright.” She knew he was just keeping with his ruse, but she narrowed her eyes at him anyway for his protests. That prompted a slight smirk from him, and she about fell out of her chair. She had to be careful. She was so hard up for any interaction with Drake that she might just give herself away.

“Wonderful,” Liam said as he leaned over to Bragnae. “I’m sorry I’ll miss this dance, my queen, but you’ll be in good hands.”

That I will. Liam lowered his lips to hers for a sweet kiss. She smiled at him as he pulled away, but couldn’t help it when her eyes flicked to Drake. Even though he knew damn well that she was married to Liam, which meant she’d kiss and make love to her husband, she knew it probably made him uncomfortable to watch. She felt bad when it was directly in his face like that. His unenthused expression validated her thoughts.

As Liam walked away, Drake put his napkin on the table and rose. He took a step towards her and extended his hand. “Your Majesty, may I have this dance?”

She peered up at his dark eyes already feeling lost in them. “Yes, you may.” Slipping her hand into his as she stood sent a shiver down her spine. Immediately, butterflies swarmed her stomach as she ached to be touched more by him.

Drake led her to the dance floor where they took position. As she felt his hand cup her waist, her breath stuttered and her knees grew weak. She looked up at him, her eyes scouring every inch of his handsomely rugged face.

“Stop looking at me like that, Bennett,” he said abruptly as he began to lead her in the dance.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me.”

Bragnae suddenly felt self-conscious and worried she was giving herself away. She swallowed, looking down at his chest before returning her desperate eyes to his.

“Harden your eyes. Pretend I just said something snarky,” he told her in a calm voice.

She followed his direction and narrowed her eyes at him, adding a sassy tilt to her head.

“There you go.” He squeezed his hand around her waist briefly as they continued to dance. “It’s your night. Every person in this room has their eyes on you. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. I just missed you so much. It feels like forever since you last touched me.” She looked to their joined hands trying to collect herself before looking back at his face.

“I miss you too,” he said coolly as he twirled her out of his arms across the dance floor.

She admired his strength and composure. She was so weak compared to him. “You’re so good at this,” she sighed before returning to his arms again. “This is so hard.”

“Come on, Bennett. It’s the Cordonian Waltz. You know this,” he smiled casually down at her.

“No, I meant…”

“I know what you meant. It’s hard for me too. You’ve been busy lately.”

Her fingers lightly caressed the top of his shoulder as they moved. She hoped no one would notice. “I have been, and I hate it. I’m sorry, Drake.”

“Don’t apologize. I know you would have found time if you could have.” He looked stoic with his straight posture and calm demeanor. To the unsuspecting person, he might look like he was bored and just dancing out of obligation.

As the music came to a close, Drake brought Bragnae in close to dip her back slightly. His face closer to hers than it had been the entire dance.

“Drake, if I don’t feel your hands and lips on me soon, I may die.” It may have been dramatic, but she felt every word deep at her core.

“Soon,” he said, bringing her upright again. He bowed to her as she curtsied. “I’ll find you later.”

Drake eye’s connected with hers with a seriousness that made her spine tingle, and then he walked away. Bragnae took a deep breath and began to mingle with the crowd – something she needed to do, but wasn’t in the mood for. She needed to focus her energy on anything else besides being with Drake, and that would be a challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour or so later, Drake stopped at the bar in the back of the room for a glass of whiskey. He saw Liam speaking to Maxwell, so he strolled over to join them.

“She’s really hot. God, look at her,” Maxwell said as he and Liam looked towards a blonde woman wearing a light blue shimmering gown. “I think her name’s Rebecca. I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Go get her, buddy,” Liam cheered him on.

“Hey,” Drake said, taking a sip from his glass. “How’s your night going?”

“Oh, hey, Drake. Good. How about yours?” Liam asked, plucking a flute off of a server’s tray.

“As fancy balls go, it’s not so bad.”

Liam’s eyebrows raised as he took a drink. “High praise. So, have you had a chance to scope out a lucky young lady yet? There’s plenty to choose from.”

Drake’s eyes immediately found Bragnae in the crowd. She was talking to a couple on the opposite side of the room. “Nah.” He let his eyes casually scan the rest of the room. “No one here is really my type.”

Liam scoffed. “Since when do you have a type? They’re women. You fuck them and move on. What’s the big deal?”

He was right. Even though Drake openly showed his distaste for the nobility, it didn’t stop him from taking one to bed in the past. Discreetly at times. His status as a commoner wasn’t publicly appealing to some, but they insisted on Drake showing them a good time anyway. He didn’t care that much, mostly because he was getting laid, but sometimes he cringed at the pathetic irony of it all. He wasn’t good enough to sit at their table, but he was more than qualified to fuck their brains out behind closed doors.

“No one here is really… doing it for me,” he said, taking another swig of whiskey.

“You’re insane. There’s plenty of beautiful women here.” Liam smiled at a pair of women embedded in the crowd not too far from where they were standing.

The dark-haired woman smiled back, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to wave. The strawberry-blonde next to her took a flirtatious stance, simultaneously running her hand down the arm of her friend while biting her lip looking in Liam’s direction.

Drake watched his friend as his gaze focused on the two women. “What are you doing, Liam?”

“What?” He asked keeping his attention on the ladies.

What the fuck? He’s openly flirting with them at his wife’s coronation ball. “You’re checking out other women.”

“It’s okay, Drake. I’m not going to do anything with them.” He continued to smile their way.

The nerve of this asshole. Sure, Drake knew he had no business lecturing someone on ethics, but when it involved potentially hurting Bragnae, he didn’t give a shit. He stepped in front of Liam, blocking his view. “You better not, Liam. You’re married now. Things are different. You can’t just fuck any girl you want anymore.”

Liam scoffed again, gently pushing Drake to the side. “Relax, Drake. I have the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom as my wife. I don’t need them. They’re just fun to look at from time to time. No harm in that.”

Whole kingdom? Try the whole fucking world, dickhead. Drake was suddenly very disgusted with his friend. It was as if Liam didn’t truly appreciate what he had, what he claimed as his own. And that pissed him off. One of the ladies beckoned him with a not-so-subtle nod, and Drake watched in shock as Liam strode over to them.

That bastard. Bragnae doesn’t deserve this. If Bragnae was his wife, he’d only have eyes for her. He’d appreciate everything about her. He’d worship and cherish her like the goddess she was. And that’s what he’d do now. Fuck Liam.

Drake finished off the whiskey in his glass and set it down on a server’s tray as he made his way across the room. He sidled up next to Bragnae lightly tapping her on the shoulder. She turned to face him, beaming.

“Your Majesty, may I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course, Drake. One second.” She turned back to the couple she was already speaking with closing out her conversation with them. When they walked away, she shifted her attention back to him.

“What can I do for you?” She asked with hope in her eyes.

Drake took a small step towards her lowering his voice. “Would you like to meet me in my room in 20 minutes?”

“I’d love to,” she replied immediately. “I’ll see then.” She spun around and walked to another group of people who undoubtedly were waiting to speak with her that evening.

Drake grinned as he left the ballroom. He headed straight for his room to wait.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Drake heard the knock on his door. He stood against the wall waiting for her. He didn’t want her to have to wait in the hall for long in case anyone saw her. Opening the door wide, Bragnae smiled and entered his room.

As soon as the door was closed, Drake pushed her against the wall with vigor, kissing her with all the hunger he’d built up over the past four days. Bragnae clutched his back bringing him as close as she could muster. Her eagerness fueled him even more. His tongue found hers in a sensual duel as he pressed into her. She moaned against his mouth running her fingers through his hair and gripping it tight.

The fast paced carnal stimulation coursed through his body making him harder by the second. The gown she wore was thick and he could barely feel the curves of her body, so he started to lift up the heavy fabric when she stopped him.

“No,” she said breathlessly. “Please. I need to feel you touch me everywhere. Take this dress off me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as he devoured hers again in a passionate kiss. After a moment, she moaned to get his attention. He pulled back to let her speak.

“And don’t mess up my hair.” She smiled.

“Anything else, Your Majesty?” Playful snark dripped from every word.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Once you get this dress off of me, I want you to fuck me really hard – like you missed me.” Bragnae panted as she bore a sultry look into him.

“That won’t be difficult… because I did. Very much.” Before she could say anything else, Drake spun her around so he could get her out of the dress. He located the zipper immediately. “Thank Christ this is easy to take off of you.”

Bragnae laughed, looking over her shoulder at him with her hands braced against the wall. As soon as the zipper was all the way down, Drake pushed it off her shoulders and down to the floor with ease. She turned to face him as he scooped her up and out of the pile of fabric.

She skipped the bra with this gown, so that was one less obstacle in his way. He tore off his own suit jacket leaving a fitted, white button-up, a gray vest, and the damned tie. He immediately regretted an outfit with so many layers. He started to tug at his tie when Bragnae put her hand over his.

“Here, let me.” She loosened his tie enough to pull it over his head without untying it. Her hands skimmed over his bulging muscles, biting her lip as she looked him over. “You’re so fucking hot, Drake.”

His eyes raked over her body. She still wore a jeweled gold necklace, a black lacy thong, and high heels that accentuated her toned legs amazingly. He blew out a whistle. “Look who’s talking.”

She continued to remove his clothes exposing his chest halfway down.

“Just leave it like that. At least now I can breathe.”

Bragnae frowned. “I wanted to see you, too.”

“There’s not a lot of time, Bennett. We’re sneaking away from a ball in your honor. We better make this quick, so you’re not missed.”

“Okay, but the next time we’re together, I want us both to be completely naked. And I want to take our time, so I can appreciate every inch of you.” She ran her hand down his chest, palming his erection.

Drake groaned. “I promise you next time I won’t be wearing a goddamn thing.” He pulled her in for another kiss. “Now, I believe you wanted to feel my hands everywhere.” He spun her around once again so her back was to his chest.

Bragnae moaned approvingly as Drake nudged her head to the side, laying soft kisses on her neck. She rested her head on his shoulder as his hands cupped both of her breasts, kneading them slowly and rolling her nipples between his fingers. She gasped when he became overzealous and tugged them hard.

He dropped one hand down her stomach, sliding under the fabric of her panties. His fingers circled around her clit before dropping further down to her silky opening. He glided a finger inside her easily groaning along with her.

“I love how wet you get when we’re together,” he whispered against her neck.

“I’m always ready for you, baby.” She curled an arm around his neck, leaning her weight against him as his fingers skated a figure eight over her sensitive skin. “I want you, Drake.”

Oh, thank God. He removed his hand and gently pushed her forward toward his bed, so he stood behind her. Finding the lace with his fingers, he pulled her thong halfway down her legs before undoing his pants. Drake gripped his steel hard cock in his hand and guided himself to her heat. He rubbed his tip where his fingers traced making her tremble.

Bragnae gripped the blankets on the bed as he pushed himself inside her. “Ohmigod. I missed your dick so much.”

Drake chuckled. “And it missed you.” The warmth and softness of her beckoning walls made his knees grow weak. “We’re not going to mess up that pretty little hair-do you got going on, but I am going to fuck the shit outta you. Are you ready?”

“Oh, God yes.”

A wicked grin crossed over his lips. “Hold on.” Drake gripped her hips drawing back slowly, and into her again. And another. And then he thrust into her with all his might. Their bodies connecting in an audible force over and over again.

Bragnae exhaled quick but sweet sounds every time Drake drove into her. Each thrust deeper than the last. His hastened pace, the sight of her luscious body slapping against his, the noises she made, the mind-numbing pleasure of her hot, wet walls contracting around his cock overwhelmed him. He was close… oh, so close to coming. He prayed she’d find her release soon because he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed Bragnae and this delicious surrender.

Without warning, Bragnae erupted into a fury of cries. Her lungs singing praises in a chorus of pants and spontaneous moans. Her pussy emphatically embracing his cock. With one more thrust, Drake gave in, satisfying every need in his body.

Letting out shaky breaths, Drake draped himself over Bragnae kissing her back in between breaths. After another moment of enjoying their pleasures, he helped Bragnae to stand, pulling her panties back up. She turned to him looping her arms around his neck.

“That was amazing.” She pulled him down for a tender kiss.

“You’re amazing.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. Looking into her eyes he was reminded of his conversation with Liam earlier. Before him stood an incredible woman in every sense of the word, and Liam took her for granted. A part of him wanted to tell her what he witnessed earlier. If she knew how frivolous Liam was being with other women, maybe she’d want to leave him.

“Bragnae,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You’re beautiful, smart, and sexy as hell. You make me so happy. I love you.” He couldn’t do it. Not because he’d be ratting out Liam. No. Fuck him. He couldn’t tell her because it would hurt her, and he wouldn’t be the one to do that. Not again.

An endearing smile transformed her lips. “I love you, Drake. You make me very happy, too.” Their mouths met again in a loving kiss that lingered.

Drake helped her into her dress after tucking himself back into his suit. He’d happily wear Bragnae’s glaze on his dick for the rest of the night. He couldn’t claim much when it came to her, but at least he’d have this memento from their time together.

Drake peeked outside his door to make sure the hallway was clear. No one was coming in either direction. He closed the door again, peering back at Bragnae who was looking herself over in his mirror, straightening her dress and ensuring her hair was in place.

He couldn’t help but smile. “You look great.”

She beamed, walking over to him. “I feel great.” She rose to her tip toes to kiss him, playfully tugging at his lower lip with her teeth. “We better get going.”

Drake opened the door stepping out before Bragnae. As soon as she cleared the doorway, he turned to lock the door. She pulled him into another quick kiss.

“What the hell is going on?” A familiar, indignant voice demanded behind them.

They broke their kiss immediately. Drake spun around. His heart caught in his throat when he saw Constantine standing before them livid. Frozen, wide-eyed and unable to speak, Drake’s mind raced searching for anything he could use as an excuse.

Constantine stepped forward looking at Drake. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re Liam’s best friend. How could you go behind his back like this? You’re a pathetic, commoner filth, and I hope Liam shows you no mercy.”

Drake snapped out of his stunned trance, narrowing his eyes at the former king.

Constantine focused his wrath on Bragnae next. “And you. I was right to paint you as the whore you are. You’re filling that role quite well, young lady.”

Drake instinctively stepped in front of Bragnae to protect her. Rage brewed inside him. He wouldn’t get away with speaking to her like that.

“Say what you will about me, but you will not speak to her that way.” Drake clenched his fists tightly considering whether or not to hit the old man.

Constantine scoffed. “I call it like I see it, and she is a whore. What would your father say if he saw how you are disgracing the Crown? Betraying your best friend? It’s deplorable—,” the former king’s sudden coughing cut off his sentence.

Bragnae took a step forward to reach out to him, but Drake held her back. They watched as Constantine struggled to compose himself as the coughing continued. He clutched his chest gasping for air that was blocked by more coughing.

Drake, filled with a burning hatred for the man, watched as Constantine dropped to the floor attempting to catch his breath, but was not successful. The former king lay on his back as one last wheezing inhale was made before the life drained out of his eyes and his body went limp.

Bragnae gasped, bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

Drake bent down putting his fingers to Constantine’s throat to check for a pulse. There was no way he was walking away from this not being certain the asshole was dead. Satisfied that he no longer lived, Drake stood again.

His eyes darted back and forth as he formulated a plan. He turned to Bragnae, grabbing her arms to get her attention. After a second, she shook herself finding his eyes. Fear and shock consumed her. “Go find Liam, and tell him you saw his father struggling to breathe, and he needs help. Go now.”

Bragnae stared at him for a second before looking back at Constantine. “But…”

“Bragnae,” he said firmly, “go!” He gave her a light push to get her moving. Drake watched her hustle down the hallway.

Clenching his teeth, he glared at Constantine’s lifeless body feeling grateful his and Bragnae’s secret remained safe.

#trr #trr liam #trr drake #TRR Forbidden Fanfic #the royal romance #drake walker #king liam #bragnae bennett #Queen of cordonia #very steamy fanfic

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mrswhozeewhatsis · 5 years

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A Woman of Letters (Getting a Feel for Sam Winchester) - Chapter 18

Summary: You’ve just opened an occult bookstore in Lebanon, Kansas, when you fall for a tall, handsome customer…literally. You soon find out that there’s more to the world than you ever suspected, including you. Discovering your heritage puts you directly in a witch’s crosshairs, though, so the Winchesters offer to take you in and teach you how to protect yourself. As you discover your own family history with the supernatural and your own hidden talents, you can’t help but wish a certain brother was as excited about your interest as you are.

Total length: 43 chapters, 70,247 words - Read on AO3 - Series masterlist

Chapter word count: 1947 words

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Canon-level angst and violence

You

The next few days continued as that one had. You got up in the morning, had breakfast with Dean, did target practice in the mornings, self-defense in the afternoons, dinner with the brothers and sometimes Cas, and then evenings either in the library reading old files with Sam or watching movies with Dean. You appreciated the movies Dean liked, though you didn’t get quite as excited about them as he did. Dean seemed to like getting you caught up on his favorites. Apparently, Uncle Lloyd had shaped your movie experiences, too, having kept you from going out much with your friends to see what was popular. Dean took it upon himself to make sure you were completely caught up with Star Wars, all the Die Hard movies, and even Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit movies, though they seemed to make him more emotional than the others. When you actually saw tears running down his face during one of them, you snuggled close to him on the couch and rubbed circles into his arm. He finally paused the movie and told you about Charlie. By the time he was done, you had wrapped your arms around him and he was curled into you, silent tears soaking into your shirt. The force of the grief you felt coming from him was so great that you also had tears running down your face. When he turned the movie back on, the two of you stayed close together, you tucked under his arm. After that, it wasn’t uncommon for you to snuggle against him while you watched whatever movie he had decided you needed to see. Sometimes Sam and Cas would join you, but you always found yourself next to Dean.

The hours you spent in the library with Sam were precious to you, though. When he was poring over old books and barely knew you were there, you would sit close to him and just enjoy the lack of static while you pretended to read. Even though you and Dean had gotten close, he felt more like a big brother to you. His job, and he said this to you often and loudly, was to protect you and make sure you knew how to protect yourself. Oh, and teach you everything he thought you should know about pop culture and classic rock. He also took you under his wing in the kitchen, expanding your skill set to baked goods, especially pie. You still couldn’t whip something up out of nothing, but now you had more experience with different kinds of recipes. The best part of your time in the kitchen was when Dean would talk. He would finally open up about his life with his Sammy, from the fire that took their mother, to the demon taking their dad, to his time spent in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. When you were with Sam, though, he’d occasionally give you an actual smile with that warmth behind it, and you’d almost swoon. It took you hours longer than it should have to go through the records you were studying because you kept getting lost in thoughts about Sam. There were so many questions running through your mind about him, and you could never get up the nerve to just interrupt his work to ask him.

The worst was when Sam started showing up in your dreams. You had dreams before this that could possibly be Sam, but this was definitely Sam. The day after the first dream, and it was a very good dream, with his warm hands and long fingers all over your body, you couldn’t even look at Sam. It was a rare day when he’d slept in instead of going for an early run, and he had breakfast with you and Dean in his pajama pants and a tight t-shirt. His hair was still messy from sleep, the shirt showed off his arms and shoulders, and the pants were just barely hanging onto his hips. When he reached up into the cabinet for his cereal, he showed off just a strip of skin for half a second, and it took you a moment to catch your breath. Scenes from your dream flashed through your mind…Sam kissing you in the library, Sam’s hand touching you innocently in any number of places, Sam’s shoulders under your hands as his lips found your neck…and you felt your face flush. Cas had showed you the trick he’d taught Sam to contain his feelings, and you spent a moment studying your eggs and bacon while you carefully put your lust-filled thoughts in with the rose quartz crystals in the bookstore in your mind.

A few days after Sam had started translating the journals, he was done. He spent another day waiting on Cas to review his work before he would show you the finished product. During that day, you found your grandmother’s file in the Men of Letters records. When you saw her name, and tracked down the file on her, you whooped so loudly Dean came running from his bedroom, gun drawn. When he saw you were triumphantly holding a file in your hand, he relaxed, and let out a sigh.

“Son of a bitch, Y/N! I thought Rowena had found a way in here through a vent or something!” You laughed at Dean’s exasperated face, and just grinned.

“After five solid days of sneezing through dusty files, I found my grandmother’s file! Sam was right!” You held it up in triumph, looking toward Sam to see if he was as excited as you were. He was smiling, but all you felt from him was static. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Sam.” Sam nodded, but said nothing. Dean set his gun down on the table and walked over to you to look over the file with you. You both sat down, and started reading together, Dean’s arm around the back of your chair. By the time you were done, you were in awe.

“So? What does it say?” Sam was smiling smugly, and you had a feeling he would already know the answer.

“My grandmother was listed under psychics, and her file says she was an empath, a lie detector, and what they called a persuasive. Apparently my uncle was right. She could nudge people into doing and thinking what she wanted. There are a bunch of experiments they did on her in here, and it looks like it was my grandfather who supervised most of them. I guess that’s how they met.” While Dean started reviewing the file in detail, you looked at Sam. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?” You gave Sam a grin that you hoped would get him to let his walls down for a second. Sam smiled, but behind it was still static.

“Your grandmother talked to your uncle about it before she died. Assured him that your father didn’t have the gift, but suspected you did. At least, that’s my translation. I want Cas to make sure I got everything right before I give everything over to you.” Sam looked down at the papers for a moment, and you felt the static lift for a just a second, giving you a short burst of warmth before it returned. “There’s a lot of really personal stuff in here, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.” The smile Sam gave to you was warm and almost shy, and it would have completely melted your heart if it weren’t for the static behind it. Instead, you thought you felt your heart crack.

In a moment, a wave of different emotions rushed through you, and you knew they were all yours, faced with the static from Sam. Why couldn’t he let his guard down just a little? Because he thought he was making it easier for you. Why did it bother you so much that you couldn’t feel him? Why did it make you happy that he cared enough to keep himself from hurting you? Why didn’t you have the courage to tell him that it was unnecessary? Dean interrupted your thoughts as he flipped through the file.

“I bet we could do some of these experiments here. You know, see if you have all of your grandmother’s abilities or not. I think we’d need to find someone you don’t know, though. What do you think, Sam?”

“That might not be a bad idea. Any tools Y/N has to help defend herself are tools she should learn how to use. I bet if we called Hank, told him he could make it up to her for freaking her out that first day, he’d come around and help.” Dean nodded at Sam.

“Looking at this, though, he’d have to be almost as clueless about her as she would be about him. Otherwise, the experiment would be tainted.” Dean pushed the folder over to Sam, and they spent the next few minutes discussing experiment parameters and such. You considered your new-found talent as a “persuasive” while the brothers chatted. Had you ever used your gift without knowing it? Obviously not with Uncle Lloyd, or at least not successfully, but maybe with teachers or friends? Suddenly, a wash of different memories of times when you had debated issues and won hit you. Had you been using an unfair advantage? As you reviewed each instance in your head, one in particular stood out.

You had convinced Crowley to save the Winchesters. Without knowing what you were doing, or remembering that you were mimicking your grandmother at the time, you had persuaded Crowley to bring the brothers back to you. Hand on arm, eyes locked, and a desperate plea, and the King of Hell had done your bidding. You felt your face pale and your eyes widen.

Sam covered one of your hands with one of his and asked, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You looked up at him with your mind still blown.

“I persuaded the King of Hell to bring you back to the bar parking lot when you were fighting Rowena.” Your voice was soft and strained with the shock of what you had done. Both of their jaws went slack.

“Y/N? Do you mean you used your gift and persuaded Crowley to do something?” Dean’s voice was incredulous. You nodded silently.

“Tell us exactly what happened,” Sam said. You told them about Crowley’s original plan to use you as a hostage if they failed to kill Rowena at that moment, and that he hadn’t planned on pulling them out of the apartment. However, after you asked him nicely, he had immediately rescued them. Not only that, he’d done it with a smile.

The brothers looked at you and then each other with wide eyes, then started talking more about how they could test you and wondering how far you could really make someone go against their own desires. While they chatted, you pulled out your phone and texted Cas.

YOU: Are you nearby?

CAS: Yes. Sam called me earlier and asked me to come and review his work, so I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than an hour. Are you okay?

YOU: I’m fine. We’ve got news about my abilities that I wanted to share with you. And I want to practice with you some more, if that’s all right?

CAS: It would be my pleasure. See you soon.

What followed was a string of emoticons your phone couldn’t read, and a few that showed up but still made no sense to you. You chuckled, and Dean looked at you with a smile. You held up your phone with a grin.

“Emoticons.” Dean laughed.

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deadlybeautydbz · 6 years

Text

Last First Date

Neeeeew story time my friends! I had originally planned to have this finished for Valentines Day, but that didn't happen. It’s here now though, so I hope you enjoy!

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are apricated, as are reviews and followes over on FFN when this is uploaded there. If you would like to suggest a prompt for me or chat about anything K18, DBZ or anything else, my ask box is always open.

I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing it.

Story under the cut.

Last First Date

The thing with 18 was, that it was complicated. Or maybe it wasn’t and Krillin was just doing the same stupid thing he always did, where he made his life way more difficult that it needed to be.

It wasn’t that he was completely inept when it came to ladies. He’d had girlfriends in the past, and more recently even a couple of short summer flings. And growing up around Bulma and Launch – especially when she was a blonde – had taught Krillin how to recognise a sign when he saw one.

And that was the thing. He was sure there were signs. 18 did indeed seem interested. Their banter was playful and free flowing, and all too often seemed to tip over into flirtatious territory. They were comfortable around each other and 18 would often seek Krillin out while he was doing chores around the island, keeping him company while he worked on whatever mundane task he was doing to keep their tiny pink home in tip-top shape.

Then there was the time that she had fallen asleep against him while they watched some awful movie together on the couch one night. From the second her head hit his shoulder, Krillin couldn’t have recounted a single thing that happened on the screen. All he was focused on was the pressure of 18’s head resting on his shoulder and the warmth of her breath against his bicep. Even when his arm started to tingle and eventually went totally numb, he dared not move and risk waking his sleeping beauty from her slumber. And when she eventually did wake that night, there had not been an ounce of awkwardness between them over the intimate moment they had just shared. 18’s eyes had simply fluttered open, she’d asked what she’d missed in the movie, and she’d continued to watch, never moving from her resting place against Krillin.

Oh how he’d wanted to pull one of those dorky teenage fake-yawns that night, and put his arm around her. It was all he’d thought about for the rest of the movie, and every second of every day for the next week, but he’d never worked up the courage and eventually 18 had taken herself to bed.

The point was though, given what he knew, he didn’t think his chances with 18 were totally zero.

But what if he was wrong?

Krillin liked 18. Like, he reeeeally liked her. Like, if it was a choice between having her in his life as a friend, or confess his feelings and risk scaring her off for good, he would pick friendship, because at least that way he got to see her every day.

Unless of course, she decided to move off the island because she thought there was nothing for her here. To the city or something. And she made friends with people who weren’t short, bald, losers. And one of her new tall, handsome model friends asked her out. And she got married and had babies and never thought of Krillin again. He’d get to see her everyday unless all of that happened.

Fuck.

If that happened, if 18 left – and Krillin knew that eventually she would if nothing changed, and he’d never mustered up the courage to tell her the truth, he’d hate himself forever.

“Hey, stranger.” A voice, 18’s voice, dragged Krillin from his melancholy thoughts. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Krillin responded.

“Really?” 18 seemed sceptical. She motioned toward the paintbrush that Krillin was holding in his hand, and the little puddle of paint that was dripping off it and onto the roof where he was standing. “Looks to me like you’re making a mess.”

“Huh? Oh shit,” Krillin followed 18’s eyes down to the roof and he winced. Prior to getting so distracted by his thoughts, Krillin had been repainting the window shutters on the upstairs rooms of Kame House. Roshi was very proud of his little island home and took pride in keeping it looking ship-shape. He would not be happy if he saw this. Quickly, Krillin whipped off his shirt and started trying to wipe up the blob of paint. But it was no use, it was about five hundred thousand degrees out under the hot midday sun, and even hotter than that up on the roof, and the paint had already started to set. All Krillin did was manage to smear the sticky, half dry paint across the red tiles, making the situation even worse. “Shit,” he muttered again.

“Hmmm.” Krillin noticed a certain tone in 18’s voice and looked up from smudging paint everywhere to eyeball her. 18’s hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of her shorts and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are you enjoying this?” He asked. “Roshi will kick my ass over this you know? And don’t think he won’t notice because he’s a thousand years old. He notices everything!”

“No, I’m not enjoying this.” 18 replied, and shrugged her shoulders. She was totally enjoying this. She loved when Krillin got all riled up. He was cute when he got flustered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah right. Just help me clean this up, would you?”

“Are you trying to get me to take my shirt off? That’s very forward of you, Krillin.”

“What?! No!” A blush raced up Krillin’s cheeks. “You know that’s not what I meant! Under the sink in the laundry there’s a bottle of turpentine and some old rags. Can you please get them for me?”

“Okie dokey” 18 nodded and climbed leisurely back through the window she had appeared from, leaving Krillin to deal with the rapidly worsening situation. “Here you go,” she said when she returned a minute later, holding the requisite cleaning supplies, and tossed them to Krillin.

“Thanks, 18.” He quickly doused the rag in the strong chemicals and prayed as he wiped it over the paint that it would work. Success! The paint lifted and Krillin let out a sigh of relief. “Hallelujah,” he said, and readjusted himself so he could sit down on the roof. “Thanks for your help, 18. I owe you one.”

18 sat herself down beside Krillin and shrugged her shoulders. “Hardly.” she scoffed. This was a man who had literally saved her life, not once, but three times, without expecting anything in return. He’d stomped on that godforsaken remote control on what was the worst day of her entire life, he’d cared for her after she’d been inexplicably regurgitated by a monster, and then he’d gone and tried to use a magical dragon wish to return her to her human form, without ever expecting to see her again. The least she could do in return was run down a flight of stairs for him. In fact. “Let me cook dinner for you tonight.” the words had blurted out of 18’s mouth before she’d really even considered them. She didn’t know the first thing about cooking. “Unless you have other plans, of course.”

“Other plans?” Krillin laughed. “Have you ever known me to have other plans?” He wasn’t sure where 18’s offer had sprung from, but he would have cancelled dinner with the Queen of England if an opportunity to spend time with 18 presented itself instead. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

---

Several hours later and 18 was regretting her stupid ideas and big mouth. Cooking?! She didn’t know the first thing about cooking. Surprisingly, the main chef in this small, dysfunctional home, was Oolong – it was just about the only thing the perverted little pig was good for. He would cook for himself and Roshi each day and usually leave enough extra for Krillin and 18 to help themselves too when they were feeling hungry. His dishes were simple but delicious and today, after scouring through every piece of information in her databases, and coming up with absolutely nothing about cooking – thanks Gero – 18 had to swallow her pride and take a leaf out of Oolongs book. He usually cooked a modest combination of vegetables or soup with rice, and so 18 was attempting the same.

Vegetables and rice. How hard could that possibly be?

Surprisingly hard, it turned out. 18 almost threw a spoon at Krillin’s face when he popped his head into the kitchen to see how things were progressing.

“Everything’s fine, Krillin! What, do you think I can’t cook or something?!” she demanded, while whipping around the kitchen in a disorganised frenzy.

“No, no, that’s not it at all!” Krillin threw his hands up to cover his head from any more projectiles that 18 might hurl his way in her frustration. He noticed the piles and piles of dirty pots and pans that were stacking up by the sink and what looked like smoke billowing out from the oven, but very wisely chose to keep his mouth closed on what was clearly a sensitive subject. “I just came to see if you’d like me to set the table or if you’d prefer to eat on the beach?”

“Beach!” she snapped back, although instantly regretted her sharp tongue. “Krillin, stop!” she called, noting that Krillin had, rather wisely, already started to retreat from the tense air of the kitchen – not that she could blame him. Even she knew she was being feral. He turned back around, and the kind look in his eyes took just enough of the edge off of 18’s frustration for her to try again. “The beach would be nicer, I think.” She said. “Roshi is always hanging around in the lounge watching those disgusting exercise programs.”

Krillin beamed a bright and radiant smile. “Beach it is,” he winked and pointed a couple of dorky double finger-guns in 18’s direction. “I’ll be outside waiting whenever you’re ready. Please don’t rush though.”

It was a little over half an hour later when 18 trotted down onto the sand holding two bowls, which represented her hours of hard work and determination. She was most certainly content to let Oolong keep the title of Cooking Champion of Kame House, that was for sure, but for now, she was proud of what she had achieved.

“What’s this?” 18 asked, as she rounded the corner of the house, to where she knew Krillin would be waiting for her. This side of the beach was where they always sat because a) it was away from the prying eyes of certain stickybeaks in the living room, and b) it had the best view of the magical sunsets that the island was treated to each night.

Krillin, upon hearing 18’s voice jumped up from the sand and turned to face her. “Oh, this” he replied casually to the beautiful spread he had set up for them. A picnic blanket, cushions, a bottle of wine, “This is nothing. You went to so much effort to cook us a meal, I thought the least I could do was provide somewhere nice to eat it.”

“It’s lovely,” 18 handed Krillin his dinner and they both sat down on the blanket. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you!” Krillin poured two glasses of wine and handed one to 18. He was acutely aware of the fact that 18 had had the entire picnic blanket on which to sit, and yet she had chosen to sit right next to him. So close in fact that their knees were touching. ‘Focus, Krillin’ the ex-monk had to remind himself. “Cheers.” He held up his wine glass and clinked it against 18’s, before they both sipped from their glasses.

“So, how is it?” 18 couldn’t even wait for Krillin to swallow his first mouthful of food before she was seeking his approval. She had worked so hard on this meal, and she wanted Krillin to enjoy it. “I know it’s not much, but do you think I have potential?”

Oh, Krillin thought that 18 had potential alright.

“Absolutely,” he shovelled another forkful into his mouth, making sure to chew thoughtfully this time and savour the flavours before swallowing. “18, this is delicious. Where did you get the recipe?”

“Recipe? It’s rice and vegetables Krillin, don’t get to ahead of yourself here.”

“Honestly though, it’s delicious. What type of sauce did you use? I’m very impressed! I thought Oolong was the only one in this house with any cooking skills!”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.”

“I bet you are.” Maybe it was the wine going immediately to Krillin’s head, in the annoying way that wine always did for him, or maybe it was the romantic backdrop of the slowly setting sun – he wasn’t sure, but that last sentence had come out a lot more sensually that Krillin had intended and a blush raced straight up his cheeks. “Sorry, that uh… I didn’t mean that to sound so well… so creepy!” he laughed bashfully and he briefly considered getting up and drowning himself in the ocean.

Quickly, in a last ditch effort to prevent anymore unfiltered nonsense spewing from his lips, he stuffed his mouth full of food and committed to chewing each piece 100 times.

Beside him, 18 shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

For a while, there was a content silence as the pair sat and ate their food, sipped their wine and watched the sky change from bright blue, through rich yellows and oranges to a deep, dusty pink as the sun sank towards the horizon.

18 remembered vividly the first Kame Island sunset that she had been witness to. A view like that; the most magnificent melting together of colours that she had ever seen, it had taken her breath away. 18 had been sure that it had been a once-in-a-lifetime display. There was no way something so captivating could ever be repeated. But there it was again the following night, igniting the sky with its glory, and again the night after that, and that was when 18 had begun to realise that there was something special about this place.

And it wasn’t just the glorious sunsets that made it so, or the fact that this house seemed to somehow magically exist in the middle of an ocean surround by nothing and yet still had power and running water. No it wasn’t any of that at all. It was the people who lived here. From the moment that Krillin had invited her, and 18 had stepped foot on the islands warm white sand, she had felt welcome.

Roshi and Oolong – disgusting perverted tendencies aside – had been nothing but hospitable when Krillin had humbly informed them that 18 would be making use of the spare bedroom for the time being. There had simply been nodding of heads and they turned back to the TV. No one here cared about her murky past, or that she was a capable of becoming a deadly killing machine if the mood struck her. It was nothing they hadn’t encountered before. 18 quickly learned that over the years, Kame House had been somewhat of a safe haven for the Z warriors, many of whom had started out an enemies, and its door were always open to those who needed it.

And then there was Krillin. He really was something else. He had a heart that was kinder than anything 18 had ever known. She felt at ease around him in a way she had never felt around anyone, not even her own brother. He had invited her to stay with them on the island without any expectations and with no strings attached. It was simply an offer of a warm bed and a roof over her head for as long as she needed. She never felt any pressure here to be anything more than she was.

It had been almost six months now, since her arrival, and 18 was noticing a change in herself. She wasn’t the cold hearted monster she had come here believing that she was. She had just been scared, confused and in full-blown self-preservation mode when she arrived. “Totally normal,” Krillin had said one day, when she’d mentioned her changing emotions. “So many of us, me included, came here as angry little shits, hell bent on making life difficult for everyone around us, and then something happened. This place has a way of bringing out peoples true selves. Like it knows who you were always meant to be.” They were words that 18 would never forget.

And as far as she was able to tell, it was true. Sitting here now with Krillin, sipping on her wine, listening to the waves gently breaking against the shore, she felt a world away from the person she had been six months ago. She felt like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, anew, and awash with opportunities and possibilities. For the first time, 18 was beginning to feel like her life was truly hers to take control of.

The sun had set now, and they world seemed to exist inside a glorious twilight bubble. 18 buried her bare toes into still warm sand and lay back so that she could rest on her elbows and stare up at the sky. “This is nice,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Mmm,” Krillin agreed absentmindedly. He was deep in his own mind too, having picked up his train of thought from earlier in the day. It had dawned on him that this was his moment. The moment. Maybe the only moment he would get, to let 18 know how he felt. He needed to clear the air, and his conscious, once and for all, no matter the consequences. He had to know that he had at least tried. “Do you like it here? On the island?” he asked.

“Of course.” 18 either didn’t hear, or was choosing to ignore the awkwardness in Krillin’s voice.

“And are you happy?”

This time, 18 sensed that there might be more to this than just a casual conversation. She sat up and shuffled herself around on the picnic blanket so that she could better face her companion. “I am happy. Krillin, what’s this about? Is this because I got frustrated at you in the kitchen ea-”

“No, no,” Krillin cut 18 off mid-sentence. “That’s ancient history. It’s just important to me, y’know. That you’re happy here.”

“I am. I’m content here.”

“Good. Because it’s important to me that you are. Happy, I mean.”

“You just said that. Krillin, are you alright?” 18 could see, even in the muted light of nightfall that Krillin was flustered. His cheeks were pink and his hands trembled. A closer, more technical inspection of his vital signs revealed that his pupils were dilated and his heart was racing.

“Because you know, if you’re not happy here, I hope that you wouldn’t feel obligated to stay.” Krillin continued on, totally ignoring 18’s growing concern.

“I don’t feel obligated to-” something dawned on 18. “Krillin. Are you asking me to leave the island?”

“NO!” Krillin snapped back with so much intensity that 18 jumped. “No, I’m most definitely not doing that.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m…” Krillin faltered. What was he doing exactly? “I’m making a mess of this is what I’m doing. I’m sorry 18.” Krillin knew there was no going back now, 18 wouldn’t let him just walk away from this train wreck of a conversation, so he was going to have to go all in. Which was going to require more wine. He topped up his glass and drained it in one smooth movement, and hoped that the liquid courage would give him the boost he needed to get this over the line. “Let me start again.”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

“Okay.” Before he continued, Krillin closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “I don’t want you to leave 18, I’m sorry if it came across like that. What I actually want is the total opposite. What I want is for you to stay for a very, very long time. Maybe even for ever if you’d like.”

“Forever?” 18 asked, not exactly following along with this conversation.

“I like you, 18.” Krillin finally blurted it out, and that was the cue for the floodgates to open. “A lot. I like you a lot and I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. And I dunno, but I think maybe you like me to and maybe we could have something here. And I hope I’m not wrong, because the last thing I want in the entire world is to make our friendship weird because it means so much to me, just having you in my life at all. But I was worried that if I didn’t tell you and there was even a chance that you might feel the same, that you might think I wasn’t interested in pursuing this and then you would leave and I couldn’t let that happen so I just had to-”

“Krillin. Stop.” 18 placed her hand on Krillin’s forearm and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You’re rambling. Stop.” Her hand travelled down Krillin’s arm until it found his, and she let her fingers intertwine with his – and chose to ignore for now how clammy Krillin’s palms were. “You can relax okay. I like you to.”

“Really?”

A long sigh came from 18’s lips before she replied, and when Krillin finally worked up the courage to look at her, he could see that she was smiling. There was something about that small upward tick of her lips that soothed Krillin. It was clear that 18 wasn’t feeling uncomfortable about this strange turn of events. “Really.” She eventually said, and Krillin could hear just a hint of bashfulness in her voice. “So what happens now?”

“Now?” Krillin’s mind drew a blank. Honestly he hadn’t thought any further ahead than this exact moment. “You could let me take you on a date?”

18’s raised a cheeky eyebrow. “A date?” she mused. “Alright. A date. How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow?!” Krillin swallowed, “Are you sure that’s not too soon? I don’t want to rush this.”

18, it seemed, was much more pragmatic about the situation, and was keen to tackle it head on, and right away. “We’ve both agreed we’d like to pursue this. What’s the point in waiting?”

This was panning out better than Krillin could have ever hoped for, but he was still nervous. There was nothing in his life he had ever wanted to work out more than this, and he was weary of getting ahead of himself. It wasn’t like he was about to get down on one knee and propose, hell, he wasn’t even asking 18 to be his girlfriend right now. All he wanted was this one date, and he wanted it to be perfect. “Alright. Tomorrow then. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

The sound of 18 laughing filled the air, and in that moment, Krillin could have sworn he’d died and gone to heaven. Here he was, sitting out under the stars, holding hands with the woman whom he was pretty certain he was going to spend the rest of his life falling in love with and it couldn’t have been any more perfect if he’d tried. The emotional load that had been lifted from his shoulders was intense, and Krillin almost felt like he was going to cry – there was every chance that could have been the wine though. He never wanted this moment to end.

Desperately, Krillin was trying to think of the perfect thing to say next. Should he recite a poem? Sing a song? Do an interpretive dance? No, that last one was definitely a solid no. So caught up in his own head, as he so often was, Krillin failed to notice that beside him, 18 seeming to have her similar internal debate on how best to progress from here.

He blinked when he heard her say, “Ah, screw it.” There was barely a second to register the words before a firm hand yanked his head around and a pair of soft lips were pressed against his own. The kiss only lasted for a second or two and was over before Krillin had even realised that it began, but it was enough for the memory to be burned into his brain for the rest of his life.

18 had kissed him!

By the time he was able to process words and thoughts again, 18 was standing up and brushing sand from her legs. She looked down at him and smiled coyly. “See you tomorrow,” was all she said before disappearing up the beach and into the house, leaving Krillin to sit stunned in the sand.

See you tomorrow indeed. Krillin needed to get busy, it was time for him to plan his last first date.

Hope you liked it!! Please let me know, I love to hear your thoughts, feedback and what you’d like to see from me in the future!

#krillin #android eighteen #kururin #juuhachigou #cyborg 18 #otp #Dragonball z #dbz #Dragonball super #dbs #dragonball #fanfiction #fanfic #dbz fanfic #k18 #writing #deadlybeautyfanfiction

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letmeletmetrashyourlove · 7 years

Text

Millie

Summary: Billy finds out that he is having a baby girl.

REQUESTS OPEN FEEDBACK APPRECIATED

Author’s Note: Killing two birds with one stone with this fic! It was requested, but also for Amanda’s 3,000 follower celebration! Yay Amanda! Love you!

Billy leaned against the doorframe as I stood in front of our daughter. She was sitting on the bathroom counter, playing with my necklace as I tugged her hair up into pigtails on top of her head. Though she had my hair color, she had gotten Billy’s ringlet curls.

“Alright, silly Millie.” I sighed when I was finished, hoisting her off the counter and into my arms.

Today was her first day of soccer, and she couldn’t be more enthusiastic. Billy, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Every bump, bruise, and fall she had ever suffered was made worse by his overreaction. She would fall over and be fine until her dad gasped and came flying over to her asking if she was okay.

His panic drove her to cry more often than not. Which is why I was contemplating making him stay home for the duration of soccer practice, knowing he would lose his mind whenever she went down. I passed Millie over to him as I exited the bathroom, he peppered kisses on her cheek, making her squawk.

Billy followed me as I went into her bedroom, pulling out a pair of knee high socks with red bands around the top. I tossed them to him. He struggled to get her feet in them as she kicked fiercely, giggling the whole time.

“Hey! Save the kicking for practice, will yah?” He exclaimed.

“Mmm. No!” She cackled.

He rolled his eyes, flipping her upside down so her feet stuck up in the air,

“Teamwork!” Billy hollered, holding her legs still while I shoved the socks over her feet.

“That’s cheating!” Mille protested, crossing her arms as she hung upside down, her pigtails dangling.

He flipped her right side up again, throwing her over his shoulder.

Billy Hargrove had somehow straightened himself out since he was in high school. My suspicion was that it was entirely to do with getting away from Neil. Despite being flat broke, when he turned 18, he moved out and into an apartment down the street from my childhood home. We met when he came to my door when I was home from college on spring break. Without his mullet, he was nearly unrecognizable. If it hadn’t been for his signature smirk, I wouldn’t have known who it was.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He greeted, “Jeez, it’s been a couple years, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It has.” I replied, looking him up and down.

He and I never really got along in school. He relied too heavily on his fists to get his point across, though, despite that, he had never shown an ounce of hostility towards me.

“So, uh, what brings you here?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just…” He wavered, “Saw you and you got me all distracted.”

He blushed, drawing his lip between his teeth. I placed my hands on my hips, recognizing his flirtatious ways.

“I’ve been taking care of your parent’s lawn for a while. I just wanted to come over and see if they needed help with anything.”

“Oh, yeah. Uh… Come on in, I’ll go find my mom.” I told him, stepping aside so he could come in.

He studied the walls of the house, tucking his thumbs into his pockets as I trotted to the living room where mom sat with a book in her lap.

“Hey, mama.” I notified, “Billy’s here.”

“Oh, Billy!” She beamed, drawing herself from her seat.

She brushed past me, meeting him in the entryway and pulling him into a hug. I was taken aback by the gesture, especially as Billy gladly returned the hug.

“How have you been?” She sought, rubbing her hands up and down his biceps.

“Good! Good!” He smiled down at her.

“Got a girlfriend yet?” She asked, making his cheeks go red as he shook his head. Mom motioned over her shoulder to me, making my cheeks turn an equally dark shade of pink.

“She’s still single, and I want grandbabies.” She whispered, nudging him with her elbow.

“MOTHER!” I exclaimed.

“WHAT!?” She retorted, “YOU CAN’T WAIT FOREVER.”

“I’M ONLY 22!” I shouted back.

“I was 21 when I had you. Gotta use that uterus while it’s still good.”

“OKAY, HOW ABOUT WE STOP TALKING ABOUT THE EFFICIENCY OF MY UTERUS IN FRONT OF OUR GUEST?!”

Billy could hardly contain his amusement as he watched my mother and I stare each other down.

“Well. I don’t have any work for you to do yet. But, I have something to give you.”

She traveled into the kitchen, getting a pan out of the freezer and handing it over to him,

“Lasagna.” She told him, “I’m tired of seeing those takeout cars going down the street to your place every night. Eat some real food, will ya? I don’t know how you keep your gut with how you’ve been eating.” She jabbed him in the stomach.

Despite our awkward reunion, Billy somehow managed to overlook my mother’s constant talk about grandbabies long enough to ask me out on a date. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement, but the way my mother talked about him persuaded me. She insisted he was hardworking and kind. Told me an adorable story about how he found a bunny nest in the backyard and ended up taking the little creatures to a wildlife rescue.

But when I finally accepted his request, I saw what she was talking about. His rough edges had softened over the years. He even managed to come up with kind things to say about his stepmother and Max.

After I finished college, he proposed to me. And a couple weeks later we found out I was pregnant. Billy went into freak out mode, insisting that he was going to turn out just like his own father. I had to grab him by the face in the middle of him ranting to make him look at me,

“You are nothing like that bastard, do you understand me?” I hollered, “And if I had even an ounce of doubt about that, I wouldn’t be with you.”

He subdued for the next couple of months, only having another freak out once we figured out the gender. A baby girl.

“What- What am I supposed to do with a baby girl!?” He roared, pacing back in forth in the nursery, awkwardly stepping around deconstructed furniture.

“Babe. Chill. It’ll be okay.” I reassured, lounging on the recliner with a bag of bugle chips, supervising while he was supposed to be putting the crib together.

“No… No, no, no, no.” He stuttered, “Nope. No. I know how girls are, okay. She’s gonna fall in love with some asshole and get her heart broken.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, earning me a scowl.

“Billy, she’s not even as big as a softball yet, and you’re worried about her future boyfriends.”

I didn’t bother to look up at him, placing the chips over the ends of my fingers as he continued to pace around.

“I’m gonna run that asshole over in my car. Then I’m gonna end up in jail. I’m going to end up in jail and I can’t go to jail, I’m too pretty to go to jail!”

I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up with the bugels on the end and wiggling my fingers,

“I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog too.” I cackled, doing my best wicked witch of the west impression.

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM WHEN I’M ABOUT TO GO TO PRISON FOR VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER!?”

“Actually, honey, it would be vehicular homicide, unless you do a good job and make it look like an accident.”

“I’m gonna go to jail.” He repeated.

I let out a sigh, throwing a bugel at him and hitting him on the cheek,

“The only person going to jail is me when I murder you for being irrationally worried about this.” I threatened, “And then you’ll be gone and I’ll have a baby in prison. And then she’ll have to go live with my mom.”

“Oh no.”

“And you know what my mom is gonna do to her?”

“Dress her up in those freaky doll outfits.” He gasped.

“Exactly.”

I pulled him down to sit beside me, resting my head on his shoulder and patting his chest reassuringly.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He whispered, scarcely audible.

“What do you mean ‘if she doesn’t like you’?”

“I mean… I don’t know… I’m just…” He sputtered, “I don’t know. I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah. I know you are. And I still let you knock me up.” I replied, finally getting a laugh from him, “She’s gonna love you. I know she is.”

He nodded,

“Got any name ideas?"

I shook my head,

“How about…. Joan? Or Bonnie?”

“WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR CHILD AFTER JOAN JETT OR BONNIE TYLER!” I screeched.

“WHO SAID THAT’S WHY I PICKED THOSE NAMES?” He defended with a gasp.

“Is that why you picked those names?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“What about Joni?” He offered, “Combo of Joan and Bonnie.”

I rolled my eyes,

“We’re not naming her after Joni Mitchell either.”

A few months later, we decided on the name Millicent, after his mom’s mother. And a few months after that, we got to meet Millie for the first time. She instantly took a liking to Billy, for a while him being the only one able to rock her to sleep. Literally. Rock her to sleep. He sang rock songs to her, and the only requirement on the song was that it had to have the word ‘rock’ in it.

“Here I am, rock you like a hurricane.”

“I love rock and roll, put another dime in the jukebox baby.”

“We will, we will rock you.”

“Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, oh, oh, oh Amadeus, Come and rock me Amadeus.”

“I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day. I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day.”

He’d creep out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind him,

“You know, I really should start recording you when you do that because it’s disgustingly adorable.”

Despite my refusal to name my daughter after Joan Jett, Billy had taught Millie to love her and she now knew the words to most of her songs. They sang it in the car on the way to soccer, her tiny voice standing out against the chorus.

We pulled up to the park, watching other little girls in pigtails clamber out of their cars and run into the field, soccer balls tucked under their arms.

Millie was playing in the youngest league, only being three years old. Billy pulled her out of her car seat and carried her onto the grass. Once we reached the field, she squirmed to be put down. As soon as her cleated feet hit the grass, she took off running to the group of toddlers that was kicking the ball around before practice had even started.

“She’s too big now.” Billy lamented, coming up behind me and resting his head on my shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s what happens.” I sighed, watching her make quick friends with a girl who had matching socks with her.

We waved to her as she turned back around, giving us a thumbs up before returning to play. The coach finally rallied all the girls together, which was about as difficult as herding cats. Within a few minutes, she had them kicking the ball up and down the field. Billy had a grin plastered on his face. Until Millie fell, that is. She landed face first in the grass, dirt sticking to her cheeks as she looked up in horror. Billy let out a gasp, attempting to run towards the field. I snagged him by the back of his shirt, preventing him from going any further.

The girl that Millie was playing with earlier ran over to her, helping her to her feet. She brushed the mud off her face before hugging her. Not a single tear was shed on Millie’s part, the first time she’s fallen without Billy there to catch her.

“See. She’s fine.” I reassured, “She’s a strong girl.”

“Told you letting her listen to rock music would turn her into a badass.” He smirked.

I gave him a playful smack in the gut,

“Oh, please. You were closer to crying than she was and you’ve got 23 more years of rock music than her.”

“I guess she must take after her mama then.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Whatever, you big baby.”

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bxxpbxxprichie · 7 years

Text

Amorphous (Bichie) (2/?)

Summary : Modern AU. YouTuber!Richie. YouTuber!Bill. Richie Tozier fucked up big time. After a drunken night of having fun, his name is being slandered this way and that. However, and angel appears to sweep the Trashmouth off his feet. Bill Denbrough loves making speed arts of his favorite people on YouTube, and just so happens to be a huge fan of one Richie Tozier.

Pairings : Eventual Bichie

Warnings : Some cussing, cute shit? Nothing really bad in this one

AN : This fic is meant for those over the age of 18. If you are under the age, please turn back now. I will not be keeping a tag list for this one, because I’m not going to tag anyone underaged. This will be full of smut, so be fair warned. Keep in mind that all of the characters are 21+ at this time. The characters in no way have any relation to the child actors that have portrayed them. IT does not belong to me, however if it had I would’ve changed a lot of things in the book.

Chapter 1 | 2

Chapter 2

Word Count: 1969

Should he message him first? What the hell would he even say? Should he say hi? Should he tell him he loves his music? Should he just wait for Richie to message him?

That seemed like a better idea.

If Richie wanted to message him he would.

Bill nodded to himself, and went back to his speed draw, feeling a bit silly because now he would have to edit that whole blank part out, and who knows how long he had been sitting there. His cheeks were flushing, but it wasn’t like anyone was there to see him.

“Bill, c’mon dude, wake up.”

“R-richie?”

“Not likely.”

The deadpanned voice brought him from his dreams, and Bill sat up from his desk. He stretched his long limbs out as far as they would reach, a soft yawn reaching his lips as he looked up at one of his room mates.

“What’s up?” Bill finally asked, standing from his desk. His back was stiff. He’d fallen asleep while working on a paper for class, and it was obvious he should probably get in bed.

“I’m getting you up for class. It’s time to go, man. Brush your teeth, put on some clothes. Mike is waiting in the car, so hurry.”

Stan’s words jolted through him, and he looked at the clock. A groan crawled up his throat and he moved to the bathroom to make himself presentable for the day. Within fifteen minutes, Bill was dressed, his hair was fixed, and his mouth minty fresh. He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his long board before heading out of the apartment and down the stairs to Stan’s car.

Bill slid in the back and took the offered banana from Mike. “Thanks.” He grinned widely.

“Don’t worry about it Bill. We know you probably had a long night.” Mike snickers.

“Wha’?” Bill asked, through a mouthful of the fruit.

“Your twitter kind of exploded last night. Can’t believe you didn’t notice. That Trashmouth dude tweeted you. Or should I say your future husband?” Stan’s voice came from the driver's seat

“Wha-?” Bill choked this time from shock.

Mike passed a water bottle back to Bill, who accepted it and took a generous drink.

He coughed a few times, and cleared his throat. “Tozier tweeted me?” Bill asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, dude. The guy you’ve been totally in love with since Freshman year tweeted you.” Mike rolled his eyes.

“Lay off, you guys.” Bill scoffed.

He was excited, but to deviate away from the teasing he didn’t pull his phone out of his pocket to check, even though it felt like it was burning a hole in his khakis.

Bill finished his banana, and they made it to the school within minutes. The three of them said their goodbyes and went in separate directions.

Bill barely made it to class on time, but he had a few minutes to spare. He placed his long board near the door and took his seat. He pulled his phone out, his heart in his throat as he read all of the tweets.

@tmtozierecs: if you haven’t checked out @billiamdraws speed art of me yet, do it!

There were a plethora of tweets in response, saying that they loved it, or that they were already fans of Bills, things like that. Of course, there were a select few that weren’t very nice, but a lot of people seemed to have his back.

His DM box had a few messages in it, and he opened it. His eyes almost bulged from his head when he noticed that most of them were from Tozier himself.

tmtozierecs: hey, billy boy!

tmtozierecs: awh, too busy for me? :(

tmtozierecs: oh shit maybe ur asleep

tmtozierecs: no idea time zones n shit

tmtozierecs: well youd better answer me when you get up

tmtozierecs: ill be waiting

Bill snorted to himself. Even over text, the boy seemed to be off the wall. He was obviously a little crazy. All of the messages had been pretty close together, which sort of made him feel bad, but he had been asleep.

billiamdraws: hey dude!

billiamdraws: i was asleep

billiamdraws: not everyone is as successful as you and can live the rockstar life

billiamdraws: some of us have to go to college

He hoped that came off as teasing as he had meant it to be, really. His heart was pounding wildly because he had no fucking idea what he was doing. He was low key flirting because he knew the other had a girlfriend, but he didn’t really know how to flirt in the first place, so it’s not like it mattered much.

He stored his phone away just as the professor walked in to start their lesson. Today they were working on abstract arts.

Richie woke up to his phone buzzing, and he rolled over. The guitar pick around his neck was cold pressed between his bare chest and the mattress. He blindly groped for his phone, and picked it up. He pulled it close to his face, squinting, before answering.

“What’s up, Miss Marsh?” Richie’s voice was thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“Things are looking better already, Rich. You’re doin’ good.” Her bright voice came through the phone.

Richie grinned softly. “Come on over later and we can smoke then, yeah? You guys are supposed to be relaxing, not worrying about PR.” He rolled back over onto his back as the body next to him shifted to curl into his side.

“We’re always worrying about PR when it comes to you, Rich. You just can’t keep your mouth shut. But yeah, I’ll be over in a few hours. Love you, babe!”

“Love you too, baby.” Richie hung up and dropped his phone back on his bedside table, before pressing a soft kiss to his girlfriend's head.

“I told you I don’t like it when you call others baby.” Her voice came muffled from his side, “Especially when it’s Beverly.”

Richie withheld the urge to roll his eyes, and smoothed her hair back, “And I’ve told you it’s innocent. I’ve known Bev since I was like ten. If I wanted to be dating her I would have done so a long time ago.”

Olivia huffed against his skin, and scooted up to be closer to his face, “I know, but she’s just so pretty..I can’t help but worry.” She tells him, pressing her face into his neck.

Richie brushes his fingers down her back. “You have nothing to worry about, baby. You’re gorgeous, okay?” He presses another kiss to her forehead, and reaches over to grab his phone again to look at the time.

“Don’t you have a conference today?” He asks, squinting.

“Yeah, at one.”

Richie chuckled a bit, “Did you bring your stuff to get ready here? Because you’d better start now.”

She smacked his side. “I know you think I take forever to get ready but I totally don't!”

“It’s almost ten. It takes you an hour to do your hair, and two to do your makeup. I know you better than you think I do.” He shifts around to press a kiss to her lips.

She giggled very softly into the kiss. “Okay, let’s go shower then, big boy.” She nips at his bottom lip and moves to get out of the bed.

Richie shakes his head, but moves to get out of bed. He pulls his glasses on so he can see better, only to notice the notifications on his phone. “Go ahead and start it, babe. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He scrolls through his notifications on twitter, grinning at a few posts, before he moves over to his DM’s. The one that caught his eye was Billiams. He opened it. A chuckle left his lips from the boy’s words.

tmtozierecs: are you trying to flatter me, billiam?

tmtozierecs: because its working (;

tmtozierecs: i really just wanted to thank you for the video you posted

tmtozierecs: you sort of saved my ass in a lot of different ways

Richie put his phone down and hopped away to join his girlfriend in his shower.

Bill felt his phone buzz about ten minutes later, but did his best to ignore it. Mostly because he was painting and didn’t want to ruin it, but also because his professor would literally kick you out of class if you had your phone out while doing an assignment...unless you needed it for a reference picture. Which this assignment didn’t need a reference picture, otherwise he could totally get away with it.

It buzzed a few more times in his pocket, and he knew it had to be Richie. Stan and Mike never texted him multiple times, and if there was an emergency they would call him. They were pretty much the only two people he talked too. Once a night, he talked to his little brother Georgie, and few and far between were phone calls with his parents. He didn’t mind it. He missed Georgie more than he did them anyways.

His phone buzzed one last time, and went still in his pocket. He was thankful for that, because he needed to focus on his painting.

After class was over, Bill placed his easel with the others in the corner to dry, and grabbed his long board to head to his next class. He zoomed past people easily, weaving in and out of the crowd as he skated all the way across campus for an advanced English class. Bill was double majoring in visual arts and creative writing. He hoped one day to write his own book and illustrate it. Who knew what kind of book it would be at this point, but that was his dream.

Upon entering his classroom, he left his long board near the door again and found a seat. His fingers dug into his pocket for his phone and he pulled it out, an ear-splitting grin falling onto his features.

billiamdraws: definitely trying to flatter u!

billiamdraws: ive only been a fan forever

billiamdraws: i probably should have kept that to myself…

billiamdraws: anyways, its no problem really

billiamdraws: it was kind of ridiculous the amount of hate you were getting

billiamdraws: i was just trying to soften the blow

His cheeks were a little red from admitting that he was a fan of Richie, but he was sure it was obvious. He shook his head a bit and put his phone down to pull out his supplies for class.

“So, how’s it going?” Stan’s teasing voice came from next to him, as the other male dropped into the chair. “With Richie, I mean.” The smirk was more than evident on his face.

“Why are you in here? This isn’t your class.” Bill huffed, ignoring the questions all together.

“I just thought I’d drop by. I still got ten minutes, and my class is next door...so spill, gay boy.” Stan pushed his arm.

“I’m not gay, Stan. I’m pansexual.” Bill rolled his eyes, thoroughly irritated with the boy.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. So, spill.”

Bill rubbed his forehead and turned to look at his friend. “It’s fine. He’s being nice, I’m being nice. He has a girlfriend, so it’s not like that.” Bill chews on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to be seen as the guy who wrecked YouTube’s cutest couple anyways.” He scratched awkwardly at his neck.

Stan scoffed, “As if Richie and Olivia are YouTube’s cutest couple. Everyone knows that’s David and Liza. Don’t fret so much. I’m just teasing you anyways.” Stan reaches up to ruffle Bill’s hair. “I’ll catch you at lunch, lover boy.” He grins and stands, “And play nice, alright?”

“Yeah...alright.”

#bichie #bill denbrough #richie tozier #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #bev marsh #mike hanlon #richie and bill #bill and richie #fanfiction #bichie fanfiction #it fanfiction #it 2017 #amorphous

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mountainashfae · 7 years

Note

multiples of three&five for mialee and rowan??? yes this is a lot lmao have an egg in a frying pan 🍳

hahahha yes good time to have fun.

I realized after typing the answers for #3 and #5 that there were.. a LOT more to answer than anticipated.

This is a freaking infodump. I love it.

[ Super detailed questions about your OCs ]

Rowan

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

You can say Rowan had a good childhood. He got to spend a lot of time with his parents since his dad was a goober who took every opportunity to skip out on his responsibilities to be with his family, and his mother was just always with him (except for when she went back to her home in the forest to make sure everything was okay there. She was much more serious about her responsibilities as a druid). All of Rowan’s favorite memories were with his parents, usually just doing simple things like playing in the garden and literally every time his mom brought home some wild animal from the forest (his favorite was a fox that one time hid in the castle gardens instead of going back to its home). The one true bad memory would be the night when the castle caught fire and his parents died, and literally any others are mild at best in comparison.

The last bit of his childhood that he spent with Altair and Evelynn wasn’t bad per se, but it wasn’t quite as good as the first seven years. Altair was much tougher than Rowan’s dad (especially pushing with the fighting training), and while Evelynn coddled him in comparison to her husband, it just wasn’t the same as his mom, ya know? A lot of the villagers in Pinegrove weren’t as quick to be warm to him since he was a half-elf amongst humans, but he became close friends with two kids his age, Adrian and Shelley. The three of them were partners in crime and would often run off to explore the woods nearby (which was the same one as Rowan’s mom lived).

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Siblings? Oh heck yes let’s never forget the beautiful Aelin Thornbrook, aka Rowan’s complete opposite. As children, Aelin and Rowan were practically joined at the hip. Rowan would hold her hand and lead her around everywhere. There was practically no reason for the two to have separate bedrooms since half the time they would sleep together anyway. The only reason the two weren’t together during That Night was because Aelin was sick and they didn’t want Rowan to get sick as well. I sure wish I could comment on their relationship now that they’re adults, but as far as Rowan is aware, Aelin died in that fire. Whoopsie.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Rowan got a good ol’ Unorthodox Royal Education, so his general subjects in school were much more varied than everyone else’s. There’s no real equivalent to modern education I don’t think, and even with that he never ‘finished’ per se. They gave up trying to school him after he started helping out on the different farms in the village. He loved learning about the history and lore of Riverin, and honestly hated any and all politics-related classes.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

HE!!! LOVES!!! ANIMALS!!!! Rowan for Druid 2k17

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Rowan likes children, yeah, but he’s absolutely terrified of the idea of him having to take care of one. He has no plans of becoming a parent and the only way he would become one is by some crazy magical BS. He’d probably make a pretty uncle though. A really protective and doting one.

12. What is their favourite food?

Peach ice cream, hands down. Boiled peanuts is a close second. ;3

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Rowan is absolutely baller at cooking, especially baking. It’s his favorite thing to do, especially when he’s doin it for others. So far, everyone has liked his cooking. Can’t wait for him to bake something again, which will likely be soon since we’re approaching midsummer in Dunks.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Rowan isn’t a huge reader, but if he were to read for fun, he’d prefer realistic fiction. When it comes to music, he’s a fan of calmer music. Punk? Rock? Metal? Pop? Not his thing really. If he were to play video games, he’d love chill games like Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

He’s definitely a fan of music, though he can’t play it to save his life. If a song he likes comes on or if he gets one stuck in his head, he’ll start humming along, maybe dance a little bit if he’s alone.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

This is probably one of the most patient men you’ll meet. No, he doesn’t take much BS (such as Lesdyn’s teasing and shenanigans), but it takes a lot to truly set him off and make him angry. The few times that he has lost his temper, someone has gotten punched.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Rowan prefers a soft bed when he can get one, but sleeping on harder surfaces isn’t too much of a problem for him. And what the heck is a healthy sleep pattern? This man has that recurring nightmare every night. The only difference is whether or not he wakes up screaming.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

I don’t know what you’d call what he finds funny, since he’ll have a laugh at plenty of different things, but he definitely has a sense of humor. No patience for offensive jokes of any kind though. He’ll crack jokes from time to time, but he’s not a super humorous guy. Quite a few of the ones he’ll pull are kinda him trying to make a joke about himself (usually at him messing something up), and he’ll laugh at those jokes but they don’t quite go over as well with others.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

As someone who doesn’t really get sad from much themself, I can’t really say what makes Rowan sad, other than fairly obvious things. He’s not one to cry out in the open; he’d much rather just get some space, cry himself out alone, and then re-join the group.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Me, a person who never works out at all: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

You had to force Rowan to work out when he was younger, but with time he realized he needed to keep himself strong as both a Fighter and as someone who works on a farm. A lot of his exercise has been farmwork and training, though he has to rely on other exercises now that he’s away from home.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Definitely boxers on this man.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

He likes to say his guilty pleasure is taking walks in the woods, but I doubt that really counts. I don’t think he has anything that counts as a “guilty pleasure.”

This here is a simple man (who often forgets he’s a prince) who just likes to bake, spend time with animals, and make sure his friends don’t die from doing something stupid.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Being a Fighter: No

Farming: Moderate success

Baking: Hail yeah

Singing: Probably ;3c

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

In this not-quite-modern society of Dunksworld, Rowan has written many a letter and will continue to write them. He’s discovered Scype though, so that could easily be a thing he turns to in the future (with the help of Nazh of course).

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

This man??? Stay awake and alert??? Fat chance with his sleeping issues.

He’s not a fan of coffee, and prefers naturally sweet foods over super sugary ones.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Goals: Figure out how the hailstones to do the thing in Riverin and become king (not that he really wants to), Become A Druid, get Nazha to the Altar of Mhenine in one piece.

What would he sacrifice anything for?? Nazha of course.

Secret Ambition: Date That Reverend. You know the one.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Well I know Nazha sees him as a brother, the rest of the party probably sees him as an anxious goof who loves animals, hopefully they’ve all had the thought of “this man is supposed to be a prince??”

He really doesn’t see himself as that much, just a guy who has no idea where he belongs in terms of race and society, who has anxiety issues and sucks at his job as a Fighter, and also he personally has the thought of “oh wait that’s right I’m a prince” every now and then.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organize the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Rowan?? Go to a social event on his own??? lmao yeah right. If he goes to a party, he’s getting dragged there by Nazha or Lesdyn and will be completely awkward and lowkey uncomfortable the whole time.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Not counting his clothing/weapons/armor, he would pack his cooking supplies, probably some sort of first aid, ingredient for cooking, his signet ring (which he wears around his neck anyway), and his tank of pet mice. You can fight him he’s bringing the mice everywhere.

Mialee

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Mialee has absolutely nothing to complain about in their childhood, given they were a mule. I still need to figure out how reason for a fancy hob such as their father being down south and having a child with a trailer trash elf. Mia’s mom was a cool divination wizard/astrologist though, so I shouldn’t dunk on her too hard. Young Mialee was much too rambunctious for an elf thanks to their hob heritage, but they didn’t mature quite as quickly as a hob. I’d like to say they reached maturity/adulthood by about age 60-70. That’s a good halfway mark between the two races. Mialee was always curious, particularly about different kinds of magic and other similar topics (Languages such as Hob? Not so much). Their favorite school of magic was illusion, since it fell right in line with their prankster antics. They loved to read books about magic, but didn’t exactly have the makings of a wizard. Their favorite memories with their parents aren’t actually of them playing some sort of prank, but rather when one (or both) of their parents would sit and read a book (or five) with them. Almost hard to believe this stinker was a bookworm, until you remember that they’re always on the move and don’t really have the money for books as much anymore. One bad memory that they really prefer to not think about is the death of their father, which they weren’t physically present for. They were about 30 or so at the time (still very young for an elf and fairly young with their maturation), and it hadn’t been explained very well to them that hobs don’t live nearly as long as elves do. They came home one day to learn that their father had passed away, from a cause along the lines of old age. It was probably around this time frame that they became much harder for their elf mother and the other elves to keep track of them, since their hob parent wasn’t around anymore.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Mia has no siblings by birth, partially because they were such a handful on their own that their mother didn’t know if they could handle a second child until Mia was older. They like to say they have plenty of adoptive siblings though, namely a bunch of the kids that they met living on the streets during their century-long escapade across the coast. Weird to think about the fact that some of them have probably reached the end of their natural life. Mia’d be that older sibling who would be super protective and would dote on the adopted sibling, and those kids are usually where most of Mia’s money would go. The fun exception to this adoptive sibling deal is good ol’ Kivas “Catnip” Lazhreen, who adopted them as a sibling first and is actually (unbeknownst to the two of them) cousins. You’re the DM Theo, I’d love to see how you play out just how close of cousins they are. These two could realistically be first cousins.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Everything Mialee knows, they either learned from their parents, books, or out on the road. They only retained info they thought interesting or useful, and kinda forgot everything else (see: Hob language). They really do love learning but only care about learning stuff that interests them. The best example of this is anything related to magic.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Mia is a big fan of birds, given that 3 canon illusions have been various birds. (Concept to remember later: african gray parrot illusion) They don’t show nearly as much of an interest in other animals, but that doesn’t mean they don’t like them or get along with them.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Mialee is to children as Rowan is to animals. They absolutely love children and would do anything for one. They wouldn’t mind having a child of their own, but they’re constantly on the move and keeping up an act/disguise is such a big part of their life that they don’t know if they can really take care of one properly. They’re the best big sibling/cousin/nib you could ask for though, taking kids out for shenanigans and entertaining them with their illusions.

12. What is their favourite food?

They’re a fan of anything with honey in it. Honeycombs are a great example.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Mia is not an expert in the kitchen, but they can cook kinda well. More often than not they’ll cast Prestidigitation to fix the flavor/temperature of the food. They’re on the road too much to learn proper cooking.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Does mythology count? Because they love mythology. Also any nonfiction text on magic. Anything on magic and you have their attention. They love upbeat music, any kind that you can dance to.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

Mia has probably found a way to sneak into a musical performance using their illusions, so write that down. They love music, though they don’t have much experience making music outside from their illusions. Which kinda counts. They ain’t much of singer but if the right song comes on, they’ll definitely start dancing to it. The only reason they wouldn’t is because they’re in disguise and can’t break character.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Now this is a fiery little hobbo! They can deal with BS but once you hit that certain point, be prepared for holy fury from their divine-gifted magic. Or at least passive aggressive antics. Make them mad and they will wreak havoc upon you.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Step 1: Wait until everyone in the room is asleep, Step 2: remove tail from hiding, Step 3: Sleep, Step 4: wake up before everyone else to hide tail.

They love a luxurious soft mattress when able, which isn’t too often. They don’t usually snore unless they’re sleeping really hard.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Here’s an elf with a sense of humor! Their particular favorite type of humor includes trickery, pranks, and teasing; all of which is usually coming from them. Those are all things they do 24/7.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

“Life’s too short to be sad just move on and do what ya want you ain’t gonna live forever.” - Probably Mialee

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

The closest thing to exercise this kid’s gonna do is running from somebody who caught them in a lie.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

They like support and comfort in their undergarments, but yes those same undergarments are frilly. They probably purloined them from some rich person.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

Spending any sort of large amount of money on something for themself is definitely a guilty pleasure.

An unguilty one? Conning the heck outta some fool

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Mialee is good at lying, deception, disguises, illusions, and generally making up nicknames. Hobbies more or less include reading when possible and putting on a show with said illusions. They aren’t much of a singer, can’t really seem to hit the notes like they want.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Mia? Keep in touch? With anyone? Hah!

They’d probably prefer messaging though.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Might be an elf thing or just habit, but they don’t need much sleep to be alert and function. They do love a good cup of coffee or sugary food when given the opportunity though.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

They don’t really got any goals in mind other than live life, don’t get caught, and cause shenanigans. That’s legit it. Just Carpe Diem and find whoever the hailstone is the hob in the locketwatch portrait.

They’d definitely sacrifice anything for a kid, and Kit too whether they really know it or not.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Well they’d hope that others see them as whatever front they are putting on. Whatever facade that isn’t their real self, with the exception of Kit of course. Kit is the one lucky SoB who gets all the inside info on Mia’s life even though he still doesn’t know a thing about their past. Mialee likes themself as an elf, but not so much as a hob. They’re completely content with the person that they are, so long as they aren’t defined by their parents. They’re actually kinda full of themself when it comes to just them and their magic skills.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organize the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Mialee is the person to crash a party they weren’t invited to, but you don’t realize they crashed it until halfway through because they used a disguise to get in. They’re in it for the shenanigans and chaos. And also for the music and food and occasionally the booze.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

They’re not one to pack much, honestly. As long as they have their disguise stuff, their staff, and a way to earn money, they’re good. Without a way to earn money though, they’d pack some food in that bag too.

Gosh that took like, 3 hours.

I’m never gonna be free of the egg-in-frying-pan emoji, am I?

#dunks n dergs #dungeons drive-ins & dives #gosh Theo you make me write out the longest posts #ask meme

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roomalthoughts · 6 years

Text

counseling (recovered post #10)

“Recovery begins at exactly that moment when you are completely broken to pieces and must surrender to unfamiliar and uncomfortable ways in order to rebuilt into who you were meant to be.” -unknown

“Always focus on how far you’ve come rather than how far you have left to go.” -unknown

“Be brave enough to stand alone, smart enough to know when you need help and brave enough to ask for it.” -unknown

This is going to be the most difficult blog post I’m going to write. I struggle a lot with being open about my struggles with depression and anxiety and it’s something I feel like it makes me a “weak person” (if that makes any sense, probably not). Today’s society, there’s still that stigma that mental health illness carries and it’s still somewhat of a taboo subject, especially with suicide. It kind of sucks seeing that, but I do see a better future for the younger generation.

When I was first diagnosed with anxiety back in 2014, I was surprised because I was doing a test to see if I still needed extra resources for college (I was diagnosed with a learning disability before I entered kindergarten). The lady that tested me was a complete…let’s say, she wasn’t so nice (there was another word I wanted to say, but I’m trying to stay PG as possible). She was rude and she got me nervous because I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing and so of course, my mind went blank. I’m no genius or dumb, but when I saw the results, it literally said: “Cynthia should think twice about going to college because I don’t think she has what it takes to graduate from college.”

Let me tell you, I seriously was pissed off when I read that statement.

With that, the lady told me that I wasn’t mature enough and my math, reading and writing skills were below average for your typical 18 year-old. But what struck me the most was when she said that I had generalized anxiety disorder…she noticed that I got really nervous and anxious for the test to be over. It was 8am and of course, I didn’t have breakfast and I thought it was going to be a easy, peasy, lemon queasy test..but I was so wrong. How she figured it out is still a mystery to me, but she nailed it.

It answered questions that I had when I was in high school. Why would I start shaking when there was a test in class? Why would I feel like I’m about to puke on the pool deck before a swim meet? Why would I start overthinking every little detail? It made sense. I remember my first high school swim meet, one of the coaches said: “Cynthia, your face is green? Are you okay?” Shy me shook my head no, but I was lying because I saw my dad there…and I knew that I had to perform well or I would get the silent treatment or get yelled at on my way home.

My dad was one of the reasons why I would start shaking and get nervous when he was at my swim meets. I knew that if I didn’t drop time or I didn’t beat a certain girl from the other team, I would get yelled at and it would piss me off more. There was a time, when I was a sophomore where he pulled my hair and kicked my back in front of my mother after I came home from practice. I didn’t go to practice the next day because my back was hurting and I was afraid my teammates would see the bruise I had on my back. When I got offered to swim for a college in Ohio, my dad flat out said: “You think you’re good enough to swim for them? They don’t want losers like you.”

That forever stayed in my mind and to this day, I REGRET not taking that chance to swim in college. I beat myself up every time I see someone that I knew of having a great time swimming for their dream college.

Along with my dad being verbally abusive, he also taunted me when it came to my weight. I’m 5’5 and I weigh around 170 at the moment. So I’ve always been a very buff girl with thunder thighs and a wide waist that God blessed me with (haha, oh). He would always say that I was a cow and fat and that he wishes that I was skinner. That did it for me. I forced myself to throw up or even skip lunch on and off from my sophomore year to my freshman year in college. I still struggle with self-image and there are times where I get so caught up with my weight, I literally drive myself mad. I have to control myself so I won’t relapse.

Fast forward to the end of my freshman year. I was going through so much stuff, it’s hard for me to say what really tipped me over the edge. But I will say that I stopped eating for two months and lost close to 30 pounds. I weighed 150 at that time and I went down to 127. My mom caught me throwing away food and she saw how weak and fragile I was. I wouldn’t eat the food she made (which she knew something was wrong because she knows I love her cooking). Doctor looked at me and said, “You have depression sweetheart.”

He immediately saw the pain in my eyes and he wasn’t wrong. All the signs were there. I would sleep for most of the day. I lost appetite and lost interest in the things that I loved the most. Once the school year started, my doctor told me to go to counseling so I wouldn’t relapse again. My first counselor was a sassy lady, who was a lady that I admired so much because she always made me laugh towards the end of my sessions. I remember just being really reserved about my life at first, but she gave me that little nudge to open up and it was great. There were times that I would start crying when I talked about my dad and all the things he did to me.

Most importantly, my first counselor taught me how to love myself. She taught me that it is okay to feel down and depressed but the minute that those thoughts start haunting me, to go outside and look at the skies. I always went to the Winona Lake park close to sunset time and I would just stare at how the skies turned into pretty colors. The pink, orange and purple always made my heart happy. I smiled and admired God’s artwork. It was my escape for most of my school year going into junior year of college.

After my first counselor graduated, I decided to not go back to counseling for my junior year and just went with the flow. I was dating someone at that time, that I thought was good to me, but eventually came out that he was no good for me. The person that he was trying to pretend wasn’t the real him. We were falling apart towards the following year, close to June and broke up in July. Got back together the next day and it just went downhill from there. Found out he had someone already waiting for me to leave and just like that, I was replaced. Did it hurt? Of course it did.

I HATE to admit that breakup did break me once again. I hate to admit it, but it is the truth. I was in despair because I had no idea how it all went wrong. I was blinded by the “love” he said he had for me, when in reality it was just misery. Things happened in that relationship that I’m not proud of, but it is in the past and there’s nothing I can do. I was incredibly naive and I didn’t know he was playing with my feelings. I didn’t know that all he wanted was sex and it was just physical. We would always end up fighting because I was too stubborn for him and he once said that he regretted being with me for a year.

Ouch.

That hurt so much when he said that and it brought tears in my eyes when he said that. He would also say how much he hated my short hair and I tried to grow it out as quickly as I could. I tried to CHANGE for him and that wasn’t love. Never was. To this day, I’m still traumatized when it comes to relationships. I’m still terrified that the next guy will do the same thing and I don’t think I will be able to handle it. This shows that I still got more healing to do.

All that misery ate me alive for two weeks until I decided to swallow my pride and reach out for help once again. I did the usual routine to get into counseling and not even two hours passed, I got an email that I got in and I was supposed to come back to campus around four in the afternoon. I was shocked because how quickly they responded but I would never have guessed that my second counselor would be someone who would push me to become a better person.

My counselor was a guy and I giggled when I saw that it was going to be a guy because I’m like “this will be more fun and relaxing. I got guy friends.”

Wrong.

This second time around was more different. This counselor paid more attention to my body language and the small details. He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but there were times where I thought, “is he flirting or nah?” Joking aside, he’s a man of God and was truly humble and down to earth. He was so helpful and let me talk his mind out every Friday. He always challenged me to do something that I’ve never done before. He got me into reading the Bible once again and showed me the love and grace that God has for me. It was such a fun journey with him because it felt like we were more friends than just strangers. I grew to admire him little by little and show him that I dearly cared about him as well. He would also share small details about his life and his dreams, which was pretty cool. My first counselor was more reserved on those topics, but this man, swear he was like an open book.

He also taught me one very important lesson that I will always carry in my heart. Never give up. Doesn’t matter what life throws at you, you get up and keep going. Along with him being a counselor, he was a motivator and pushed me to get where I’m at right now. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be the same old smiley, joking around, pulling pranks on everyone me. I would still be miserable and bitter about life. Along with that, the first thing he said to me was “Cynthia, you have a lot to offer. Your presence lightens up this room and the way you are blunt is funny and it’s a rare trait to have.”

With that statement, I almost cried when he said that because he was showing me how he saw me and it was an awesome experience. When I decided that I was ready to move on, he told me that he was impressed with my progress and that ever since he first saw me, he prayed to God every night that I would make it through the week. He admitted that I made his Friday mornings better.

It was hard saying goodbye (even though he claims it just a see you around thing). God has blessed me with two fantastic counselors and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. They were the gems that I found during my path and I’m going to keep them close to my heart. It’s hard knowing that they are going down their own paths and I would never cross paths with them ever again.

Counseling is such an awesome experience and it did really help me recover every time I had a downfall. I discover myself once again and just realize that I really do got a lot to offer. I just have to be patient. While I use this time, I’m giving myself time to change and be better. I always think “Take it day by day. Don’t rush anything and just let it be. Go with the flow and be happy.”

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