#so glad I finished them before I fly out to florida...

[deoidesign]

FINALLY finished these romance style alt-covers for my first 4 books!

They're slip covers, so if you'd like the books to slip into something a little more comfortable, these covers will accompany your books while Adam and Steve accompany each other on their journey~

I'm planning to get the titles, name, and book number foiled :)

I printed an examples for book one on my home printer, so no foil, but it looks so nice on the book!

It's an add-on on my kickstarter now!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: still kinda blown away by the response to my svech fics! thank you!! 🥹 like i said before, gonna keep riding this writing wave as far as it’ll take me. i’ve got at least two other lil fics up my sleeve after this one! also it’s been a month and a half since the asg weekend so don’t blame me if some of the timing on stuff is weird. i tried to hit all the major cute svech moments! this got obscenely long, my apologies and i kind of hate it but nothing to do about that 😂 i’m off to the isles/leafs game, so enjoy and i’ll be reading your tags while i eat a pretzel and cheer on my island boys!

word count: 7.6k (weird, felt longer while i was writing it 😵‍💫)

tw: yeah this one’s smutty. it’s drei in miami, so what do you expect? plus google-translated russian, so ya know, reader beware.

summary: all-star weekend and bye-week with andrei

The fact that this year’s All-Star Game is taking place - in Florida! - during your “spring” break is a blessing from God. The semester is barely started, but you’re already over it, senioritis hitting like a freight train. The entire week before you leave for Florida, Andrei is bouncing around the apartment like a sugar-high child. His grin is infectious and you can’t help but smile every time you look at him.

“Solnyshka,” he says over dinner on the Monday night the week of the All-Star break, “I’m an All-Star. The league picked me.”

It’s been weeks since the initial announcement and he’s still just as excited and disbelieving. You lean over and kiss him, “of course they did! Drei, you’re literally the best player I know.”

He laces your fingers together. “I’m glad you’re coming. And my parents and Geno. It will be the best weekend.”

“And the best part is that you’re on bye week after that,” you sigh, thinking happily of all the time you’re going to get to spend in the Miami sun with a shirtless, beachy Andrei. Yeah, you’re definitely excited for this year’s All-Star Game.

Andrei nods, looking you over with soft eyes. He grins, but it’s really more of a smirk, “what are you packing?”

When you raise an eyebrow, he continues, “I just want to make sure we are not going to accidentally bring the same things.” His face falls into a mask of pure innocence and you laugh out loud.

“Unless you,” pointing your fork at him, you start, “plan on bringing half a dozen bikinis in neon colors, then I think we’re fine.”

“Oh,” Andrei shakes his head, “I think I’m going to have to repack my bag then.”

Another laugh startles from your chest and you picture Andrei in all of his 6’2”, muscled glory wearing one of your bikinis and start giggling hysterically. “I’m sorry,” you gasp out between laughs. You’re always laughing with him and Andrei looks so proud of himself for making you laugh and smile all the time. He really is one of the happiest people you’ve ever met.

“I am thinking hot pink,” he grins, continuing the joke further. He leans back in his chair, kicking out his feet to nudge them against yours, always looking for a point of physical contact.

Still giggling, you manage, “that’s going to look really good with the inevitable sunburn that you get.”

He can’t even dispute that since he regularly burns any time Raleigh sees more than two or three days of sun. With a shrug, Andrei replies, “good thing I have you to put sunscreen on my back.”

After dinner, you decamp to the bedroom so Andrei can finish packing and so you can start packing. They’re playing at home tomorrow, but are off to Buffalo for the next night and then the All-Star weekend starts on Friday. Andrei’s planning on flying straight from Buffalo to Florida and you’ll meet him there on Friday after classes. He’s a surprisingly chaotic packer and you watch him toss items into his suitcase, knowing you’re going to tidy it up for him. You set your own suitcase next to his on the bed and start pulling clothes out of your drawers and fold them methodically.

While you’re digging through one drawer, Andrei comes up behind you, crowding your space and snaking his arms around your body to pluck a handful of lacy underwear out of the drawer. “Here, all packed,” he teases, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. The lacy scraps of fabric look even more insubstantial in his hand, thick fingers wrapped in the fabric.

You lean back against his chest and angle your neck so you can look up at him. “You know I’ll be spending quite a bit of time with your parents, right?” You reach for a few pairs of more modest cotton panties and wave them in the air. “I need my clothing to be opaque at least.”

“Only when you’re with my parents,” Andrei says, trying to be serious and lasting for approximately ten seconds before his dimple pops out. “It’s Florida, you’ll be hot otherwise.”

“Thanks for caring about my temperature regulation,” you deadpan, turning in his arms and leaning up to kiss the edge of his jaw. A few days worth of stubble scrape against your lips and you loop your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know I’ve said it, but, I’m just really proud of you, Drei. This is so exciting.”

He smiles a little sheepishly, the tips of his ears going pink, and drops his head to rest his forehead against yours. “I’m glad to share this with you and my family,” he says quietly, shrugging a little. “They deserve as much as I do.”

That had been something that had surprised you when you first starting dating Andrei - how much he loved and respected his family. Your initial impression of him - tall, gorgeous, accented professional hockey player - had not included a thought or inkling that he was the sweetest, most respectful, mama’s boy in the greater Raleigh area. But as you’d learned more about his childhood and upbringing, his personality makes so much sense. Getting to see his relationship with his parents and Geno is one of your favorite things. Especially his relationship with his brother. Geno’s two and a half years older than Andrei and practically a superhero to your boyfriend. They text constantly and FaceTime at least once a week, usually more, and if you were less secure in your relationship you might have been annoyed that Geno was Andrei’s first call about being chosen as the Canes’ All Star. You’re mostly just used to waving at Geno when Andrei wanders past the couch while he’s talking to his brother. It’s sweet.

“Let’s make it a weekend to remember, huh?” you ask, leaning up into another kiss. Andrei gathers you into his arms and backs you up to the bed, pulling down your sweatpants with one hand and holding your wrists above your head in the other. You shimmy a little, helping him get your sweats off and surrender to his lead - definitely starting the weekend right, even if it is only Monday.

Andrei’s up early the next morning, getting in a quick workout while you get ready for class. You’re prepping a smoothie for yourself and a protein shake for him when he comes back to the apartment, red-faced and sweaty. “Spasibo,” he takes the offered shake with a kiss to your temple. It’s gone in three large gulps and you watch Andrei’s throat move as he swallows, feeling a little dry-mouthed from the sight. You shift, pressing your thighs together, and lean against the counter, dipping at your smoothie.

“Pozhaluysta,” you reply, practicing your extremely basic Russian. You’re not even sure if you’re saying it right, but Andrei’s face splits into a proud grin and you figure you must be close enough.

“I love when you try the Russian,” he says, stepping into your personal space and nuzzling his nose into your hair. “It’s hot as hell.”

“Right back atcha,” you tease, pushing away from him a bit. “You’re all sweaty. I have to go to class.”

Andrei laughs and wraps his arms around you, making you shriek and protest. “I won’t see you until Friday! You’ll miss me,” he argues, holding you tight.

Wiggling away from him, you shoot back, “you, maybe. Not your gross, sweaty shirt!” But you’re not really mad at him, not when he’s so cute and smiley and you really will miss him until you see him on Friday. “You’re all packed right?” You ask, back against the counter.

Andrei nods, “all ready to go. I even have extra space, if you want to shop with my mom in Miami.”

Your heart melts at how thoughtful he is and you clap a hand over your heart. “My hero,” you tease. “You really know me so well.”

“You should have plenty of room,” he teases, eyes crinkling at the corners, “since your bathing suits are so small.”

“I’m leaving,” you laugh, leaning up to kiss him again. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Andrei catches your wrist in his hand, tugging you back a few steps and kisses your shoulder. “Fly safe, solnyshka,” he says and you melt again. Twisting your fingers in the hem of his shirt - God, it really is so sweaty - you nod up at him.

“I’ll do my very best, Drei.” A slow smirk and a wrinkle of your nose. “My pilot’s license is a little outdated, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

It takes a second for your joke to land, Andrei’s face morphing from confusion to amusement, and he swats gently at your ass. He flounders for a word before settling on “derzkiy,” which you make a note to Google Translate later. “Off to class then,” he shakes his head, nudging you to the door. You let him push you along, gathering up your phone and backpack as you go.

Once you’re at the door, you push back against the hand in between your shoulder blades and look up at him with wide eyes. “A kiss for the road?” you pout gently, pulling one of his favorite moves.

Andrei sighs, pretending to be exasperated, and kisses you once, quickly. It’s barely a brush of his lips and your mouth falls open. “That’s it?” You complain. “I won’t see you for three days and that’s the only kiss I have to keep me warm during the cold, lonely February nights?”

“If I kissed you the way I want to kiss you,” Andrei replies, voice lowering a bit as he leans in, his forearm resting on the doorframe, “then you will miss class and I will miss the games. We will both miss the All-Star Weekend too.”

“Oh,” you blink at the intensity of his tone. “Well,” you pat his chest, “keep that energy ready for Friday then.”

He swats at your ass again, sending you out into the hallway with a loud giggle.

The rest of the day slips away into a blur of classes, school work, and meetings with advisors. Before your night class, you text Andrei in your usual pre-game ritual - a string of emojis (red heart, white heart, black heart, and the tornado). He replies a few minutes later with his usual string of incomprehensible emojis, this time they have an abundance of suns and palm trees in the middle of the string. You smile at the message, hearting it and setting your phone back in your bag.

The game is a win and you talk to Andrei on the phone briefly before he gets on the plane. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the game and you can barely hear him over the sound of the boys celebrating.

“I love you,” you grin down the line, burrowing under the covers. “Break a skate tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he replies. There’s a beat and then, “what are you wearing?”

You laugh loudly and answer honestly. “Old sweatpants, thick socks, and one of your sweatshirts. I’m fucking freezing.”

“At least you aren’t going to Buffalo,” Andrei shoots back on a laugh. “Who will keep me warm there?”

“Your boyfriend, Pyotr, of course,” you reply, blasé.

“His hands are not as soft as yours,” Andrei shoots back, laughing.

Someone on the plane calls for him and you blow kisses down the line, letting him go.

Wednesday is much of the same, except your excitement for Florida is building and making it hard to focus. You get in some more studying before the game, text Andrei, and finish a paper while you watch the boys beat the Sabres. After the game, he texts a little more, getting ready to head down to Florida. You make sure the remind him about sunscreen before you get down there.

On Thursday, he sends a series of selfies from the beach while you sit in class, wrapped in a down coat and scarf.

You: I hate you

Andrei: No you don’t.

Andrei: I miss you

Andrei: I need someone to rub sunscreen on me

Andrei: 🤩🥰😌🤤🩳🌞☀️☀️☀️🍆🍆🍆

He’s insane and you love him.

Once class ends, you still have the rest of the afternoon and you head back to the apartment to clean up. The idea of coming back to a freshly cleaned apartment after a week’s vacation is definitely a motivating factor. While the sheets are in the wash, you empty out the fridge and make a dinner from the salvageable leftovers. The bathroom gets scrubbed and all the dishes are washed and put away. Once you’re done, you light a candle and settle into do a little self-care. If you’re spending a week in Miami, you don’t want to have dry skin and messy cuticles. You’re not even sure you’ll be able to sleep, despite your early flight, you’re just really excited to see Andrei again.

Airports are probably your favorite place. They’re lawless and chaotic and literally anything goes. Your best friend is a saint and drives you to Raleigh-Durham at 4 a.m. so you have plenty of time before your 7:30 a.m. flight.

“I don’t understand why you insist on being a suburban dad about air travel,” Kate sighs, then yawns.

“Because I have anxiety?” you counter, deadpan. Sue you for wanting to make sure you’re on time for the flight. So many things can go wrong with flying. Why not cut some of those problems off by being early and adaptable.

“You’re insane,” she says, pulling up the the curb at departures. “Have a safe flight, immediately bang that fine specimen of a man when you get to Florida. Love you!” She blows a kiss at you after giving you a one-armed hug over the console.

“Hah, thanks. Love you too!” you shout over your shoulder, pulling your suitcase and duffel bag out of the backseat. You wave once more before heading into the airport.

It is predictably chaotic, even so early in the morning, but you get through security smoothly and find your gate before going off for a coffee and breakfast. You explore the shops, picking up three cartoon-covered romance novels and a more serious looking contemporary fiction. The books fit easily into your duffel and from there it’s just a matter of waiting to get on the plane.

The flight to Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood Airport is smooth and before you know it, it’s 10 in the morning and you’re exiting the plane and traipsing through the airport in search of the taxi stand. While you walk through the airport, you look around, people watching, and your gaze lands on a familiar figure holding up a sign that says “SOLNYSHKA” in chicken-scratch handwriting.

Andrei’s face is split into a wide grin and he gives you a little wave when he sees that you’ve spotted him.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, running for him. “Drei!” Your suitcase and duffel bag fall to the floor as you take a running leap and jump into Andrei’s arms. He drops the sign and catches you, arms wrapping around your waist as your legs lock around his. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

You cradle his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, ignoring the sounds of the people around you. His tongue slides over your lower lip and you open your mouth for him, angling your head and deepening the kiss. His hands shift and grip at your ass and you press closer to him. He pulls back a little and then kisses you again, softer. Still holding you in his arms, Andrei says, “I wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t wait another minute to see you.”

“God, I missed you,” you nuzzle your nose against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. Andrei sets you back down on your feet and picks up your bags.

You learned early on not to argue with him about carrying luggage. If he has the hands free, Andrei’s always going to carry your bags. So, you fall into step next to him, practically skipping with excitement. “So what did you do yesterday? Have you relaxed a bit?” You ask as you head for the parking lot.

He shrugs, “I spent time on the beach. Mama and Papa got to Miami last night and will be here around lunch, so I was talking to them. Mostly, I missed you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The bed is very big and lonely without you.”

“You really miss me hogging blankets and clinging to you like a koala?” You grin. “Wow, you must really love me.”

Andrei holds your hand for the entire thirty minute drive from the airport to Fort Lauderdale Beach Park, where the players are staying in a hotel and the league has set up a beach festival for fans and the players’ families. The hotel is gorgeous and Andrei’s room looks right out onto the beach.

“Oh, this is nice,” you look around the room, making a beeline for the balcony. “A girl could get used to this.”

Andrei’s right behind you, holding you close, face buried in your hair. “Better that you’re here now.” He kisses down the column of your neck, stubble scraping at your skin. You lean back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against your ass. You wiggle a little, deliberately teasing him.

“How long did you say until your parents get here?” you ask on a breathy gasp. Andrei’s sucking a bruise behind your ear.

“Plenty of time,” he replies, sliding a hand into the front of your leggings and grunting when there’s not that much space to work with. You wiggle again, pulling at the stretchy fabric with both hands to get the waistband down around your thighs. Andrei’s fingers flex against you and you arch you back into his touch.

“Good,” you sigh. “We have three days worth of time to make up for!”

Forty-five minutes later, you’re both sweaty and tangled in the extremely comfortable bed sheets. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re sore in all the best possible places. Andrei rolls onto his side, already half-hard - again! for the third time, Jesus Christ - and kisses your shoulder. “Shower?” He asks, with a curve to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes that you know means he plans on making sure you have at least one more orgasm before you head out to the beach festival to meet his parents.

“Shower,” you agree, shriek-laughing when Andrei gathers you in his arms and makes for the bathroom. You laugh and soap each other up, kissing and touching and making the shower twice as long as it has to be.

Finally clean, you slip into a pair of cut-off shorts and a nicer top, ready to head out. Andrei texts his parents as you make your way out of the hotel and makes plans to meet them at the main entrance to the park. Once he’s done texting, he slips his hand into yours and you enjoy the stroll from the hotel. “Have you seen any of the other guys?” you ask.

“Not yet,” Andrei shakes his head. “Everyone is getting in at different times. It was quiet, some of the guys from the west coast came in yesterday, but,” he shrugs, “I don’t know them. Kirill and I had dinner.”

“Andreyusha!” A familiar accent calls Andrei’s nickname and you grin when he entire face lights up. His mom and dad are suddenly in front of you, both pulling their son into a tight embrace.

You hang back just a bit, not wanting to interrupt the reunion since he hasn’t seen his parents since Christmas. But after she’s done with Andrei, Elena turns to you and pulls you into an equally tight hug. “Ah, nevestka, we’re so happy to see you!” She presses kisses to both of your cheeks and you love how much she care about you too.

“I’m so excited you guys could come,” you reply, getting a nod from Igor. He’s much less effusive and demonstrative with his affection, but you don’t mind. He’s warm enough when you talk and Elena gives enough hugs for the both of them.

Andrei has his arm draped over his dad’s shoulder and he looks so happy to be with his parents. “You’ll see the fun, silly hockey tonight,” he says, starting to explain the Skills Competition.

Elena loops her arm into yours and you all begin to walk around the park. “We will look for Andreyusha’s puck,” she decides, gesturing to the giant decorative pucks that dot the park with each player’s picture on them. “By then, we will have to send Andrei back to get ready for the show, yes?”

“The red carpet arrivals, right,” you agree, smiling to yourself at the idea of your boyfriend on a little red carpet. “He’ll have to get even prettier than he already is.”

Andrei shoots you a playful glare and you stick your tongue out at him, laughing. He and his dad fall into step behind you and Elena, talking in rapid-fire Russian. Elena starts telling you about all the fun shops she and Igor had seen in Miami, “- I think we will go shopping next week, yes? That will be fun, but of course you and Andrei will have time alone. Don’t worry that Igor and I will be around all the time.” She laughs knowingly. “Kids do not want mama and papa around all the time.”

Your cheeks heat up with Elena’s implication, but she doesn’t seem to notice, having spotted Andrei’s puck off in the distance. She pulls you and Andrei in that direction and takes multiple pictures, handing her phone off to you so you can take a picture of her and Igor in front of the puck.

While you snap pictures, Andrei looks down at his phone. He frowns a little, “I have to go get ready.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Have fun with Mama and Papa and I will see you later.”

“Okay, have fun. Make good choices,” you tease, ducking away from his groping hands knowing he’s going to try and tickle you.

He calls out to his parents that he’s leaving and Elena gives him another hug, patting his cheek when she pulls away. “Comb your hair, yes?” She nudges him and Andrei nods.

“Yes, Mama.” He gives you a soft smile, not embarrassed in the least about his relationship with his parents. And then he’s gone, walking back towards the hotel, leaving you alone with his parents for the first time essentially ever. Sure you’ve spent time with them over the year you’ve been dating Andrei, but never alone and never for such a long period of time.

Luckily, Elena is a warm force of nature, so she steers the afternoon perfectly, guiding you and Igor to the beach festival proper for cocktails and to people watch a little. She asks about your classes and your family and takes an interest in your thesis project. It’s actually really nice being the center of her attention. She and Igor treat you to dinner and before you know it, you’re in FLA Live Arena, finding your seats to watch the Skills Competition. The arena is crowded, but not packed and you love looking around and seeing the mix of jerseys in the stands.

The players are getting announced and you and Elena stand and cheer wildly when Andrei skates out, both of you taking plenty of pictures. You honestly can’t believe that you’re here watching him. The custom jerseys for the game are amazing - black with pink and mint green accents - and seeing Andrei in the non-typical colors makes your stomach flip a little. He looks unfairly good in the jersey. You’re glad that jersey is coming home with him.

It’s fun to watch the guys mingle on the ice and you spot Andrei standing with some of the guys from the Metro and Atlantic. From your spot in the stands you see the group - Andrei, Ilya Sorokin, Igor Shesterkin, Artemi Panarin, and Alex Ovechkin - that you’ve been mentally referring to, with affection of course, as the Borscht Belt. Andrei’s always said how nice it was to have so many Russian players in the league to chat with, so you’re glad he has this little group to enjoy the games with.

Soon enough, it’s time for the Fastest Skater competition and Elena chuckles when Andrei is announced. You look over at her and she explains, “Andrei, so fast on the ice, but that is nothing compared to when he was a child. Running from vegetables, from baths with his golaya zadnitsa out, Geno chasing him and encouraging the bad behavior.”

You giggle at the mental image of naked toddler Andrei running rampant, trying to ignore the fact that more often than not he’s wandering your apartment naked too. You’re sitting with his parents, you force your thoughts to be less dirty.

“Was he always a handful?” You ask, watching Cale Makar blow a tire and wipe out on the ice. You wince a little - that can’t have been fun, but at least it gives Andrei a better chance of winning.

“Always,” Elena confirms. Igor cuts in, “but with a smile, so can’t be mad at him.”

On the ice, Andrei gets started and all three of your turn you attention to him. He’s got a big old smile on his face, pumping his fist when he stops with a time that’s faster than you thought it would be. You’re on your feet, stamping them and cheering for him. He waves to the crowd and you feel a rush of love for him. He looks like a little kid living a dream.

Hours later, Andrei has the title of 2023 Fastest Skater and he’s bouncing with excitement when you meet him outside of the arena. Fans swarm him and he signs everything with a huge smile. You hang back with his parents, watching. Once the fans disperse and he sees you, Andrei makes a beeline and gathers you in his arms, spinning you around. “The fastest man in the NHL,” you laugh in his arms.

He kisses you and sets you back on your feet, clearly still buzzing with adrenaline. His parents get hugs too and they congratulate him before saying good-night so they can take an Uber back to their hotel in Miami proper. It’s already nearly midnight - you hadn’t realized how long you were waiting for Andrei to shower and sign autographs. He kisses his mother’s cheek and hugs his father again, before they get in the car. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair, and you lean into his side, shivering a little now that it’s cooled off.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” he admits once his parents are gone.

“How about we take a walk before getting a car back to the hotel?” You suggest. “It’s a nice enough night.”

“Or a walk on the beach? I’ll call an Uber,” he already has his phone out and there’s a car in front of you within five minutes. You slide into the backseat and buckle up, tangling your fingers with Andrei’s.

You’re both quiet on the ride to the hotel, even though Andrei is clearly vibrating with energy. You nudge his ankle with your foot and he looks over at you. “Proud of you, Drei,” you say, feeling like a broken record.

He beams at you. “Being with all the guys, is a different experience. I’ll have to rub it in Geno’s face, now that I am officially fastest. He always thought he was faster, growing up.”

“Save it for dinner when he joins us next week,” you snort.

“Eh, I already FaceTimed him,” Andrei smirks, looking like such a cheeky little shit. “He challenged me to a race.”

“Brothers,” you roll your eyes affectionately.

Turns out, Andrei’s proclamation that he wasn’t tired was dead wrong and he passes out the second he climbs into bed, wrapping his body around yours. You snuggle into his warmth and have the best night’s sleep. You both sleep in late the next morning since the only mandatory event is the actual All-Star Game and Andrei doesn’t have to be at the arena until 1:00 for that. He’ll end up getting there early, since Rod is the coach and he doesn’t want to look bad in front of him. But the morning is yours to enjoy.

Andrei rolls onto his side, burying his face into your shoulder. His body is flush against your side, his erection hot and hard against your thigh. You happily slide your hand over his side, down his hip and around his front. He jerks in your hand when you wrap your fingers around him. His skin is velvety soft and you run your hand over his length a few times without any real intention.

“Solnyshka,” Andrei’s voice is a sleepy rumble at the back of his throat, “you’re teasing me.”

“Mhm,” you confirm happily. “Do you want me to stop?” You move your wrist a little faster.

“No,” Andrei groans, one arm slipping under your back and the other bracing at your hip so you come with him when he rolls onto his back. You land on his thighs with a little exhale and look down.

“Hello,” you grin, resting your palms flat on his lower stomach. His hands are tight on your hips. “Do I get to take control this morning? Are you feeling a little tired after yesterday?”

“Not tired,” Andrei grins up at you. “I just like this view best.” His hands skate up your sides and under the oversized shirt you’re wearing, coming up so he can cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples.

“Ohh, okay,” you sigh, sliding forward and leaning up on your knees so you can position yourself over him. You both let out matching groans of pleasure as you sink down on him, inch by inch. Once he’s completely inside of you, you rotate your hips, Andrei joining you and meeting you thrust for thrust. You brace your hands on his chest and bend a little at the waist, changing the angle. Andrei keeps a steady hold on you, murmuring in Russian and English.

Heat coils low in your stomach and Andrei’s hand finds where you’re joined, pressing his thumb against your clit. You moan, arching into his touch, curling your toes. “Fuck, Andrei, more please,” you babble, falling apart. He lifts his hips into yours again and again, grunting when you finally fall over the edge with a shout. He continues fucking into your for a few more thrusts even as you’re boneless, draped over his sweaty chest.

He comes in you, hot and hard, and you’re extremely grateful for birth control. His arms are strong around your back, hugging you close and burying his face in your hair. “What do you want for breakfast?” He mumbles the question into your skin and you giggle. Always eating, always hungry, your Andrei.

The rest of the day is a blur of laughter and tanning on the beach before you make your way to the arena to watch the actual hockey games. The Central-Pacific match is a little boring, and really only confirms your biased belief that the really impressive hockey is being played on the East Coast. Metro-Atlantic is much more entertaining, but you’re left a little bummed for Andrei that the Atlantic takes the win. You don’t really care that much about the final Central-Atlantic match-up and use the time to get a snack and wander the arena.

Andrei doesn’t seem that upset by the loss, when you see him after the game. He’s upbeat, full of just-happy-to-be-here energy. “That was fun!” He says immediately.

“You were so good, Andreyusha,” Elena smiles, patting his cheek, eyes sparkling with pride. “Now you get to rest. Papa and I will take you to dinner and then go back to Miami.”

“Thanks, Mama,” he says, holding your hand when you fall into step behind his parents. He nudges your hip with his and leans down a little to whisper, “there’s going to be a little party in the hotel later. Will you be my date?”

A surprised and delighted little gasp leaves your mouth. It’s not like Andrei has to ask you to be his date, but it’s a surprisingly sweet gesture and you nod happily. “Yes, of course I’ll be your date,” you giggle and there’s an extra spring in your step.

The party - all of the young players and their girlfriends and wives crowded into the suite that the Tkachuk brothers rented explicitly for this purpose - goes until the early hours of Sunday morning. You barely remember anything other than winning several rounds of beer pong with Andrei, a round of spirited karaoke doing a duet with Jack Hughes, and spending at least forty-five minutes with Andrei’s tongue down your throat in a corner of the room. In short, you have a raging hangover when you wake up on Sunday morning and Andrei has to peel you out of bed and into the shower.

“How are you alive?” You mumble, pressing your lips together to fight a wave of nausea.

He shrugs, “I’m Russian. Alcohol doesn’t bother me.”

You hold your face under the lukewarm shower spray and mutter, “damn giant man tolerance.”

Showered and marginally more alive, you and Andrei check out of the hotel and get into Andrei’s rental car so you can drive down to Miami for your week of actual vacation. The sun and salt air help your mood immediately, as does the giant iced coffee and breakfast sandwich Andrei places in your lap. He keeps one hand on your upper thigh as he drives and you can’t help but heat up at his touch. God, you’re excited to get on the beach and get your hands on him.

The new hotel is on Ocean Drive, with the beach just a few feet from the entrance. You do a little dance next to Andrei when he checks in, excited to lay out in the sun. He laughs at your excitement, crowding you as soon as you get in the elevator. “What are you so excited about, solnyshka?” His eyes dance with mirth.

“Oh, seeing you in those five-inch inseam bathing suits, of course,” you shoot back.

And boy, he doesn’t disappoint. The five-inch inseam seems even shorter on his muscular legs and your mouth waters when he changes. “Oh, yep, now it’s vacation time,” you grin, rubbing sunscreen on your legs.

Andrei takes the tube from you and starts rubbing the cream into his arms. “I could use a nap,” he admits.

“It’s vacation, baby,” you throw your arms out to the side. “Nap as much as you want!”

“I think I need to work up an exhaustion first,” he says, looking you over from head to toe. The bikini you’re wearing just barely covers the important parts and you feel warm despite the air conditioning in the room.

You snort a laugh through your nose. “How about we wait until the room stops spinning for me before you start tossing me around the bed, huh?” You smile wryly. “Plenty of time for the fun acrobatics when I’m not violently hungover.”

The first two days of vacation are spent on the beach, tanning and reading the books you bought at the airport. Andrei insists on rubbing sunscreen on your ass every hour, making the argument that he doesn’t want you to burn, but his fingers slide under the fabric too often and with too much deliberation for that excuse to be valid. You order drinks and lunch, sitting together on a towel, knees touching, while you eat. Andrei forgets to reapply and his nose and cheeks turn pink, matching his pink-polarized lens Ray-Bans.

He fingers you in one of the hammocks, the fabric swaying between two palm trees. You bury your face in his chest, his hand hidden in between your bodies. A third finger slides into you, his other hand palming your ass, and you bite at his shoulder to muffle your shouts. You’re not even sure how the hammock is holding both of your combined weight, but you’re not arguing and you can barely think coherently. Andrei whispers dirty words in your ear, “come on, baby, come on my hand. Make a mess of my fingers. Want to see you lose control,” and smiles smugly when you yelp his name, breaking off into a groan. His hand is a mess and he sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off.

“Fuck,” you mutter, red-faced and sweaty. His answering chuckle vibrates his chest under you and sends another spike of arousal down your spine.

If you could spend every day in the sunshine, tangled up in Andrei’s arms, you think you could die a happy woman.

Of course, it’s not just a couple’s vacation, and you’re happy about that too. Mid-week, Geno gets into town and as soon as Andrei sees his big brother in the hotel lobby, he runs from your side to wrap his brother in a bear hug. They haven’t seen each other since Christmas and you know that Andrei’s missed his brother, even though they talk nearly every day.

They do the bro-hug, smacking each other’s shoulders, talking in rapid-fire Russian. When they’re done hugging, Geno turns to you and wraps you in a big hug too. “Beautiful as ever,” he greets you with his signature missing-toothed smile.

“Charming as ever,” you grin back, loving that Drei is going to have his brother around for a few days. Having Geno around actually feels a bit like having a big brother too, so you’re always happy to spend time with him.

“So, what have I missed?” He asks while he gathers his bags and the three of you head up to his room. “Mama and Papa say you lied and stunk up the ice during Skills.”

Andrei shoved his brother playfully. “Liar. You would’ve been slower, old man.”

They bicker playfully, essentially unaware of your presence, but you don’t mind. You sit on Geno’s bed, crossing your legs, while they catch each other up on the last few days. Geno’s thinking about proposing to his girlfriend and asks both of your opinions, but emphasises, “don’t tell Mama. She’ll ruin the surprise.”

Andrei laughs and agrees easily. “Mama,” he explains to you, “cannot keep a secret for her life. Papa is like a vault. You could not torture information out of him.”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, “your mom was really a wealth of information about your childhood.”

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you. “What did she say?” He sounds curious and a little nervous.

“I’m keeping some of those stories to myself,” you grin and Geno points at you.

“Did she tell you when Drei was little, he collected bugs? She found his collection in a drawer and screamed so loudly he cried and said she was scaring the bugs!”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” You squint at the brothers. Andrei is shaking his head, laughing.

“Then I made her have a funeral for the bugs,” he admits. “With prayers and everything.”

The mental image of tiny Andrei having a full church service of a funeral for some dead bugs is really just the cutest thing you can imagine. “I think it’s adorable and kind,” you reach out to squeeze Andrei’s fingers. “But if you ever bring a bug into our apartment, I’ll kill you myself.”

Geno laughs loudly and Andrei nods, agreeing that your apartment will remain bug free. You have plans to meet Elena and Igor for dinner, but the afternoon is time to relax on the beach. Geno falls asleep almost immediately and you scoot your towel out from under the umbrella so you can angle it over his body. You’re reclining on your stomach, flipping through a book, when Andrei starts rummaging through your beach bag. He pulls the tube of sunscreen out and you think he’s going to start reapplying, but instead he draws a smiley face on Geno’s bare chest, grinning like a Cheshire Cat the entire time. You watch him, shaking your head a little.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble, Mister Svechnikov,” you murmur, smothering a little laugh with the back of your hand.

“He won’t sleep that long,” Andrei waves a hand i. the air. “It won’t be that bad.”

Geno sleeps for an hour and is definitely not pleased to find the smiley face on his chest. He grumbles playfully and chases his little brother right into the ocean. You watch them wrestle in the water, taking a few pictures and video for posterity. Eventually, they mellow out and start floating, which is your cue to join them. Now that you know you’re not going to get accidentally drowned, you make your way to the water, diving under quickly to get used to the temperature and float lazily next to Andrei. “I wish we were at the beach all the time,” you mumble, tipping your face back to soak up the sun. “I’m going to need a tropical vacation during the off-season.”

“Hear that, Drei,” Geno teases. “Start saving up.”

The lazy afternoon fades into evening and the three of you trudge back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. It’s sushi at some fun, fancy restaurant Elena found. It’s walking distance, so you head over a little bit before the reservation, listening quietly while the brothers talk. It’s been a long couple of days and the time spent in the sun and sand is starting to get to you a little. Andrei keeps a protective arm around you as you walk, in tune with your surroundings even as he discusses hockey with his brother.

When you get to the restaurant, Elena lavishes the boys with more hugs, Geno especially since she’s already seen Andrei this week. “Come, come,” she says, ushering you all to the table. “I am so happy to have the whole family together and to celebrate Andrei.”

She’s sitting with Andrei on one side of her and Geno on the other, but you know from past experience that the seating arrangements with shift around as dinner goes on, and you’re right. By the time you’re two hours deep into dinner, Geno and Andrei are talking with their dad and you have Elena’s undivided attention again.

“My girl, you are going to come with Andrei back home this summer, yes?” She pats your hand and takes a sip of her cocktail.

You hadn’t discussed summer plans with Andrei, not really. In the abstract, you don’t want to plan further than June, superstitious about the playoffs. And you’ll be starting a Masters program in late August, so you definitely want to be back in Raleigh before then. Of course there’s training camp to think about. So that really leaves July and part of August. You’d love to see Andrei’s home country, but he hasn’t said anything about it. Something must show on your face, because Elena laughs lightly and continues, “he is focused on hockey right now. But he will suggest it, I know. You should say yes and come. It will be a good visit.”

“I…yes, okay. If Andrei asks,” you smile carefully. “I’d love to come visit you.”

Hearing his name, Andrei looks over and smiles, dimple popping. He can’t have heard what you said, but he winks at you and you flush. There’s so much affection in his eyes. Elena nods knowingly at your side. “He will ask, and you will say yes,” her voice is firm, tone final. Case closed, you think, amused.

Food and drinks flow during dinner and you take photos of Elena with her sons and Andrei next to the inexplicable Daniel Craig wax figure by the door, laughing when he strikes a series of cheesy poses before grabbing you and dipping you into a femme fatale pose. By the time you leave to go back to the hotel, your face hurts from smiling so much and you’ve bullied Andrei into giving you a piggyback ride. He has his hands hooked under your thighs and you rest your cheek against the back of his head, bouncing pleasantly in his arms. The movement must cause you to doze off, because the next thing you know, you’re being gently set on your feet, Andrei’s arms holding your back to his chest.

“I love you,” you murmur sleepily, head lolling to the side.

“I love you, too,” he replies softly.

“This has been the best week,” you sigh. “Can we move to Miami and just be beach bums forever and have sex in hammocks?”

Andrei hums above you, apparently giving your tried, tispy thoughts some consideration. His hands splay over your stomach and he rests his chin on top of your head, “how about after I retire we become snowbirds? Six months in Miami, six months in Raleigh.”

You giggle a little. “I don’t think we could be considered snowbirds going from a warm climate to an even warmer one, but I am definitely on board with that.” Something about the vague planning for the future, even if it’s a fiction, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“It’s settled, another twenty years in Raleigh and then Miami, here we come,” his laugh vibrates your whole body and that future doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

[look-at-the-soul]

Oohh hi! Gossip Girl here!🥰 Ok I typed this up earlier and then got distracted and forgot to actually send it as an ask😂 The downside of typing in notes and getting distracted😂

but hi!:) I've been good! I get to fly and see my family tomorrow so that's exciting! (Plus no school!) 😂 I really want to try and get more of a story done but I also don't know if that'll happen 😂 I'm very excited to see my sister!!

And yes you do a very good job at pulling my emotions for all the stories of yours I read!❤️❤️

Lol, it's totally fine if the previous messages are still saved and stuff! I'll be around for a while so take all the time you need! 😂😂 🥰 (Plus I think I rambled a bit so they were a tad long 😅 oops)

I usually type stuff in my notes and then look up a word counter online and try to like manually edit it😂 I should probably start using work to make sure it's better though. I'll like post something and then realize a few days later autocorrect/auto finish screwed me over changed a word slightly without me realizing and then it bugs me😂 I really just want to go through and like re-edit everything to make it right but idk how long that would take😂 But I like using the Notes for writing though because I can like quickly send it to my IPad where I usually edit and finish formatting stuff😂 Plus I'm scared of typing something long up and then like word or tumblr loses it too😭😭 It's happened on both before and sometimes on Word I can recover it but usually it doesn't work to well because I forget to save often enough😂

And ooohhh can I ask where you're going for the weekend? Is it for fun plans!:)

And yeah!! I'm glad you've got good weather!! It also just got a bit colder for me here in Florida but it's still relatively sunny which is nicer! When it gets to be chillier I like it because it gives me an excuse to bundle up in fun sweatshirts and beanies😂

But I think that's all I got for now! You're amazing!!!🥰🥰🥰

Hey GG!

Just a little heads up 😊 my main account got banned (I know it’s so annoying and it makes no sense) but in the mean time I created a side account -I can still get messages in my inbox so we’re good there.

Oh, I hope you’re enjoying your family time a lot!!! Haha it’s okay, if you can, work on that story but also I hope you get to make the most out of your time with your sister 💖

Thank you so so much!! This is the best compliment a writer can get ✨♥️

Yeah I have them! I wanted to answer them earlier, buuut I got my account banned 😔 so I took a couple of days off - I was feeling down about it. But it’s all good now. Nah, you didn’t rambled, your messages makes me smile plus we don’t have words limitations so that’s good!

It’s so annoying to mess up with a word and noticing so late about it 😂 I recently downloaded wpswriter for a tablet because I won’t be able to have access to my laptop and I needed it to edit the stories, correct grammar mistakes and such, there’s a free version and it’s practically a word (copy paste!) you can even save on the internal cloud your document so for anyone without a laptop access this is also a good option on the go, it also has spreadsheets and presentations option 🙂 but yeah, agree on the notes they’re lifesaver !! Oh but word has the unsaved document options, in case you really need something there must be a tutorial to recover those…

Yeah my brother is attending the F1 during the weekend so I’m puppysitting their dog 🥰

Weather is weird haha yesterday was so hot I even went to get some ice cream 🍦 but then I have to get a sweater or something at night, anyways I hope you get lots of sunny days but chilly enough for a sweatshirt:)

Have a lovely Sunday! You’re amazing as well!! ✨x

[poge-life]

⚠️ obx² spoilers!

hii, idk if you're accepting requests for long smut stories at the moment, but I love 365 days so much that I instantly thought of you when I had this idea. Would you write an imagine based on that scene where Rafe is at Ward's closet (you can change the context if you want), and then the reader walks in when he's looking in the mirror and she leans against the door/wall saying something like "Looking good Mr. Cameron", but in a teasing way so it leads to smut ofc, you can choose how it happens, but with dom!rafe, basically the same energy as 365 would be fantastic! I love your writing 💞

I am so flattered that you thought of me to write this and i knew as soon as I read it, I had to write it. This does not take place during the 365 timeline, but the OBX timeline. Please do not read if you haven't watched Outer Banks or finished this season because this does contain spoilers for OBX2 beneath the cut.

Also, it took me fucking forever to figure out to get a clip of Rafe putting on Ward's jacket, so enjoy!

Summary: After needing space after everything that happened this summer, you decided to go and see Rafe, just not expecting him to look good in Ward's jacket

Warnings: OBX2 spoiler, smut, daddy kink, name calling, spitting, spanking, hair pulling, and angst towards the end if you squint.

This past summer was...eventful. To say the least. Rafe had asked you to spend the summer with him instead of going to Florida with your family like you do every summer. And of course, you said yes. Spend the summer in Miami with your family or stay in the OBX with your hot-ass boyfriend? That was a no brainer.

You just didn’t expect this summer to turn out the way it did. Topper and Sarah had broken up because she ended up with John B, the Pogue who worked for her dad, Rafe’s drug habit had gotten bad, his dad had decided he needed to get a job, Rafe ended up beating Pope Heyward up with a golf club, and then proceeded to try and beat the shit out of JJ at Midsummers, annnnd Sheriff Peterkin was dead.

Oh, and Sarah and John B were alive after getting lost in the storm that they were chased into by the police.

And the cherry on top was that Rafe was the one who shot Peterkin and his dad killed himself to keep Rafe from going to jail.

You had distanced yourself from Rafe for a while, needing a moment to process everything that had happened. You didn’t know what to do. Rafe had come to you after everything that had happened and told you he knew something was wrong with him. That he had all of these thoughts in his head that made him want to hurt people but he didn’t want to do it.

He had gone to Ward about it but as usual, he had brushed it off and told him there wasn’t anything wrong with him and that he was going to be okay.

You could tell something wasn’t okay with your boyfriend. Ever since Peterkin’s funeral, he had been acting differently. His movements were sluggish and he seemed to zone out a lot and he acted more impulsively. Well, more than usual.

He came straight to you once he found out that his dad had killed himself. And that was the first time you had ever seen him cry. He was scared of what he was going to do and didn’t know how to stop it. He wanted help but no one was willing to get him the help he needed.

So, you vowed to help him in any way you could.

Sarah had texted you and told you Rafe was having a hard time processing everything that had happened with Ward. She had told you that their father had left behind a video, explaining everything; how he killed Big John Routledge, stole gold from John B, and killed Peterkin.

So, yeah. You could understand how Rafe would have a hard time processing what was going on.

You parked your car, grabbing your phone as you made your way up the driveway of Tannyhill. Letting yourself in through the side doors that you knew they never locked, you made your way up the stairs. Taking the way you knew like the back of your hand at this point to Rafe’s room, you peeked in to see his room empty. Pushing the door open, you made your way to the bathroom, not seeing him there either.

Realizing where he was, you made your way to Ward’s room. The light from the lamp gave the room a soft golden glow. You saw shadow movement from the closet and slowly made your way over to it.

Rafe was standing in front of the mirror with one of Ward’s jackets on and you hated to admit it, but he looked good. Really good.

Your eyes raked up his figure from his reflection and you leaned against the door as you called out, “Looking good, Mr. Cameron”

Rafe turned to look at you in shock before relaxing when he realized who it was, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You softly said, making your way over to him. You stopped with just a few inches in between the two of you. You brushed your hands over the front of his jacket as you looked up at him through your lashes, “You do look good, Rafe.”

He turned back to look at his reflection in the mirror, “Really?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist from the side, “looking all professional. Really gets me going.”

Rafe couldn’t help the laugh that came out as he looked at you through the mirror, “Yeah? What about it, baby?”

You shrugged, running your fingers over the top of the band of his jeans, “Just thinking about you sitting behind a desk and in comes your beautiful girlfriend, hoping to distract you from all your hard work...only for you to get frustrated because you have an important client to work with so you have no choice but to bend me over your desk and take those frustrations out on me”

You let out a teasing sigh as you pulled away from him, “But then again, you’re just wearing a jacket.”

You barely made it a foot away from him before he tugged you back to him, his hand instantly finding its way around your neck, causing you to look up at him. He had a smirk on his face as his eyes roamed over yours, “good to know that even in your little fantasies, you know who’s in charge.”

“Who said it has to be a fantasy?” You whispered

And that’s all it took for him to snap.

Rafe leaned down and smashed his lips onto yours, tightening his grip around your throat, causing you to moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands going straight to his hair, giving it a tug.

You were so glad he had decided to ditch the hair gel and just leave it natural. You loved it that way.

Rafe pulled away, causing you to whine, “I want you in my room, naked on all fours. Do you understand?”

You had never been so glad to have his hand around your neck because you knew you couldn’t hold yourself up after what he just said to you.

You nodded but you should have known that wasn’t gonna fly with Rafe.

He shook his head, kissing his teeth as he titled your head up even more to look at him as he delivered a harsh slap to your ass, “C’mon baby. You know better than that. Use your words.”

“Yes sir.” You whispered, biting down on your bottom lip.

He released the grip he had on your neck as he nodded his head towards the closet door, “Go on. And I really wouldn’t test my patience right now if I were you.”

You all but scrambled out of the closet, making a beeline straight towards your boyfriends room. Kicking your shoes off by the door, you made quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down along with your thong, basically ripping your shirt in half to get it off, tugging off your bralette as you made your way to the bed.

You did as you were; on all fours with your ass in the air. You felt a little embarrassed at the situation, considering this was going to be the first time you guys fucked in the house with Sarah, Rose, and Wheezie home. But you didn’t care. You just needed Rafe. And you needed him bad.

You heard the door shut and the sound of the lock clicking in place.

Rafe stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on his bed. On all fours, just like he asked. He knew you were going to listen. You always did when it came to him.

He slowly made his way over to you, lightly trailing his fingers up the back of your leg, watching in satisfaction as goosebumps appeared. He grabbed your ass with both hands, kneading the flesh in both hands.He spread your cheeks apart and had to bite back a moan at the sight of your glistening pussy.

He knew you had gotten worked up earlier, but jesus, he didn’t know you were this worked up over him.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you, sweetheart?” He softly asked, ghosting his fingers over the place you wanted him the most

You had to fight the urge to moan at Rafe’s words, looking back at him over your shoulder, “No, sir?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow at you, “You have no idea why I’m punishing you? I suggest you think real hard.”

“I interrupted your work.” You mumbled, letting out a yelp from the hard smack he delivered to your ass, “You know I don’t like it when you mumble.”

“I interrupted your work.” You spoke louder, looking back at him once again, him nodding in agreement, “You did. And you know how I feel about that. You could have lost me an important business partner. But lucky for you, all I had to explain to him was that my girlfriend was a needy little slut who’s desperate for me to put her in her place.”

You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips at his words. You loved his dirty mouth and he knew it too. Which is why he always took advantage of that fact.

Rafe let out a dark chuckle at hearing you moan, “Yeah? You like hearing that I have to tell people that I have to put you in your place because you're desperate for my cock? You like people knowing that you’re my little cock whore?”

You let out a whimper at his words, nodding your head, “Yes, I like people knowing I’m your little whore.”

“Good girl.” He smirked, slowly inserting a finger into your pussy, “Yeah, you’re my good girl.”

You pushed yourself back onto his hand, making his finger go deeper. Rafe quickly pulled his hand back, kissing his teeth, “You always seem to forget I’m in charge, baby. I thought you were my good girl?”

You quickly nodded your head, “I am. I am your good girl.”

Rafe shook his head at you, shrugging off the jacket, “See, I don’t think you are. Because good girls take what I give them. But you decided to be greedy and wanted more.”

“I’m sorry.” You said.

“C’mere.”

You moved from your position, turning to kneel in front of him on the bed. Your eyes raked over his appearance, lingering on his arms, because good lord, they look really good in that shirt (I am not kidding. I watched him put on the jacket an embarrassing amount of times just to watch his arms flex)

Rafe stepped directly in front of you, causing you to lean your head back a little bit to look up at him, noticing his eyes had gotten a shade darker. He dragged his hand up the front of your body and you shivered from the feeling, Rafe smirking at the reaction.

He rubbed his thumb on your bottom lip, pupils blown as he watched you take his thumb into his mouth, lips wrapping around it as you sucked on it, going down to the knuckle.

“Fuck me.” He let out, causing you to release his finger with a pop, nipping at the top of it, “Then fucking do it, Cameron.”

Rafe reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head as you worked on unbuttoning his pants, tugging them down and tossed his shirt to the side, kicking off his jeans as you rubbed your hand over his cock.

You hooked your fingers on the top of his calvins (you can’t tell me that both Drew and rafe aren’t the type of guys to wear Calvin Klein), slowly tugging them down, not breaking eye contact. Rafe kicked them off the rest of the way as he tangled his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back.

“Open.”

You smirked as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as Rafe leaned down to spit in your mouth. You closed your mouth, swallowing before showing him.

“Good girl,” he smirked, “back on all fours, baby. You know how I want it.”

You nodded as you moved your body back into the position you were in only minutes ago. Except this time, you were facing the mirror that was attached to his dresser. You watched with your heart racing as he kneeled behind you on the bed, stroking his cock, never taking his eyes off your pussy.

You leaned down so your chest was on the bed, back arched, with your ass in the air, just how he liked it. Rafe ran the tip of his dick up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal, making it easier for him to slide in, not like that has ever been a problem before.

He didn’t even give you a heads up as he slammed into you, causing you to let out a loud moan as he quickly set the pace. Going slow but bottoming out at a hard pace. Just the way you liked it.

“Fuck, baby,” He moaned, grabbing onto your hips, throwing his head back, “you always feel so good.”

You threw your hips back against him, causing him to stop, holding you tight against him, a vice like grip on your hips, “what did I just fucking say? Good girls take what I give. But you’re not one. You’re a needy little whore.”

He leaned over your back, wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling you up so you were flushed against his chest.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered, both of you making eye contact in the mirror, “you go from this sweet girl in public to my little slut as soon as I touch you.”

“Please.” You begged, wiggling your hips against his, causing him to let go of your waist only to bring his hand back down on your ass. Hard.

“Please what, baby?” He teased, smirking at the way you leaned back into him.

“Please fuck me.” You begged, wrapping your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Please fuck me, what?” He teased, tugging on your ear, waiting for you to say the word so he could give you what you both wanted.

“Please fuck me...daddy.” You whimpered, leaning your head back on his shoulder, turning to leave kisses on his jaw.

Rafe turned his head to the side to pull you into a bruising kiss. Teeth clashing, spit dripping down your chin. It was hot. Rafe pulled away, pushing you back down on all fours as he pulled out so just the tip was in before pushing back in hard.

You let little moans and whimpers at the brutual pace he was going. And you knew it was all the frustrations he’s built up these past few weeks.

Rafe leaned forward and tangled one of his hands in your hair, tugging your head up to make you watch in the mirror. He had a light coat of sweat on his skin and his hair was messed up from you running your fingers through it.

“Such a good girl.” He moaned, pulling you up so you were flush against his chest again, “C’mon baby. You want this dick so bad, fuck yourself on it.”

You moved your hips back at a fast pace, locking eyes with him in the mirror as he leaned down to press wet, hot kisses on your neck. You pulled away from him and turned to face him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled his head down to bring him into a kiss.

Rafe leaned forward, causing you to lean backwards, moving so you were laying flat on the bed with him hovering over you. Rafe wrapped one of your legs around his waist as he moved to push back into you. You both let out a loud moan at the feeling of being connected again.

You pulled Rafe down for a kiss as you wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. He pulled away, placing both of his hands next to your head, not breaking eye contact with you.

You see just how much he was hurting just by looking at him. And it made your heartbreak. He was never one to ever show his emotions but after everything that happened this summer, you knew he was slipping through the cracks. And it was only a matter of time before he broke.

You tightened your grip around his waist as he sent a hard thrust that spot that had you letting out a loud moan. Rafe smirked at you and did what every guy was supposed to do when this happened, just keep doing it. He kept the same angle as he leaned down and buried his face in your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

“Fuck Rafe.” You dragged your nails down his back, causing him to let out a groan at the feeling.

“C’mon, baby,” he leaned up, brushing his lips over yours, “you know what you need to do if you wanna cum.”

“Please make me cum,” You whimpered, tugging on his hair, “I wanna cum.”

“Yeah?” He spoke, “You wanna cum?”

You nodded, leaning up to press your lips to his.

He pulled away, pulling out of you, causing you to let out a whine at losing the high.

“Ride me.” He said, laying down next to you. You quickly climbed ontop of him, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips. You reached inbetween the two of you and rubbed the tip of dick along your pussy before sinking down on him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, throwin your head back. You placed your hands on his chest before slowly moving up before sinking back down again. Rafe tightened his grip on your waist, his eyes never leaving your chest.

Even after all this time, your tits were still his favorite thing. And he kept his word and somehow managed to find bars with an ‘R’ on them. And of course, there were many pictures taken that night as he could barely keep his hands off of you.

Rafe leaned forward and attached his mouth to your tits, his hand going up to grasp the other one, kneeding it between his fingers. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing yourself closer to him, moving your hips back and forth.

Rafe pulled away from your tits, looking up at you as you looked down at him, just keeping eye contact for a while. He leaned back on the bed, causing you to lean forward with him, placing your chest directly on his as he placed his feet on the bed, driving his dick into you at a fast pace.

He let out a moan at hearing your whimpers in his ear, nails digging into his skin. He turned his head to the side and pressed his lips to yours, not once faltering in his pace. He felt you tighten around him and pulled away from the kiss, “Shit, baby. You’re squeezing the fuck out of me.”

“I wanna cum,” you begged, leaning forward to place kisses on his neck, “Please make me cum, daddy.”

How he could he not give you what you wanted when you begged for him like that?

He flipped you both over, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you at a brutual pace. All that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping on skin and the occasional moans from the both of you.

Rafe placed a kiss on your ankle as he watched you play wih your tits, squeezing them in your hands. He felt you tighten around him once again and licked his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit.

Your back arched off the bed as his thumb moved in circles, bringing you closer to the edge. You grabbed onto the sheets, closing your fist around them as you felt the knot begin to grow in your core.

“You wanted to cum,” Rafe growled, thrusting hard after each word, “So cum.”

And that’s all it took for the knot to snap. You let out a loud moan as your legs shook around his shoulder, gripping the sheets tighter in your fists as Rafe never stopped the brututal pace he was going at, chasing after his own release.

His hips faltered as he began to slow down as he felt his cock twitch, shooting out his cum as he began to catch his breath.

Rafe pulled out, causing you to let out a quiet moan at the feeling as he laid next to you. You turned to look over at him, watching as his chest moved at an irregular pace. You shot up as you looked closely at his face, noticing the tears that built up, looking for a chance to escape.

“Rafe…” You spoke in a quiet voice as he sniffled, looking over at you. His lip quivered as his tears started to fall. You scooted closer to him, pulling him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he buried his face in your chest, tightening his grip around your waist, letting out sobs.

You looked up at the ceiling as tears of your own began to show up, placing a kiss on his head as you rubbed his back, “It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

But both of you knew that it wasn’t going to be okay.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #6: Love, imperfect

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: angst  

–

“Do you think they’ll end up canceling people’s flights?” 

With her heart still stuck in her throat, Anna opened her eyes to look at the stranger sitting next to her on the plane. He appeared calm, but then again, she was sure that so did she. 

“I hope not,” she muttered before she gave him a tight-lipped smile and looked away. Another rough movement had her gripping the armrests and her stomach dropping. She kept trying to remind herself that airplanes were built to handle the worst—or so the article she’d skimmed as she waited at the gate had said. Even in the most severe turbulence, your plane isn’t moving nearly as much as you think! It sounded like a load of bullshit then and it sounded like a load of bullshit now. Plus, the exclamation mark at the end was absolutely unnecessary. 

The man next to her loudly cleared his throat. He seemed like he was trying to grab something out of the pocket of his trousers. Anna glanced at him. What the hell are you doing? she wanted to ask. The whole thing set her on edge for some reason. She just wanted to land in Miami already, call a cab and get to the address Elsa had texted her days prior. Was she looking forward to it? Not really. But it was better than thinking she was about to die and hadn’t even said goodbye to Chester, her cat. 

She’d told her parents this wasn’t a good idea. But her mom had insisted on some quality time because, “When was the last time the four of us spent some time together?” Anna had no idea, and she’d said so as much, which only aggravated her mother even more. But wasn’t she proud that her daughters were onto bigger and better things? Surely a few skipped holidays meant nothing compared to the pride their parents must feel on a daily basis. 

The turbulence continued. There was a storm coming. It wasn’t supposed to hit until late that night, which still allowed Anna to make it to Miami on time and probably even make it to Elsa’s apartment before the rain began. 

As to her parents… well, she really hoped their flight wasn’t canceled.

~~~

Anna could still remember the exact moment she became fixated with success. It happened on the summer day when she was ten years old and saw her older sister, Elsa, draped in four gold medals at the regional swimming competition. Their mom had signed them up for the swimming team at the community center after reading an article on the importance of sports in building girls’ self-esteem. Elsa had provided an aloof smile before she’d gone back to reading her book, but Anna… she was excited—she loved swimming. 

 When the season started, it didn’t take Anna a stopwatch to tell her that Elsa was easily the fastest swimmer on the team, often finishing races a full length ahead of everyone else. Anna would know, being that she was usually the one bringing up the gear. “You just need to practice more,” her mom would gently instruct when she complained about being last. So she spent the summer in the pool, with her dad dropping her off early on his way to work while Elsa was still at home, probably combing her pretty, perfect blond hair. Anna didn’t mind though, because she was sure all the effort would pay off in the end when she showed her parents and her sister how good she’d become in the final match of the summer. But things didn’t exactly go as her optimistic ten year-old self had expected. Elsa won four first place medals while all Anna walked away with was a cruddy participation ribbon with dry hot glue sticking out from under its cheap label. 

Watching Elsa standing on the podium, nodding humbly at the rousing applause with the medals draped around her neck and that stupid, perfect blond hair darkened still by the water, Anna was filled with a burning need to be up there. Because she didn’t just want to be a hard worker. She wanted to be a winner. 

But unless she wanted to grow up in Elsa’s superior gene pool shadow, she had to find another way to get noticed. In the end, she learned that if she studied hard enough and had a 4.0 GPA, she’d earn awards and scholarships. She discovered that if she steered clear of sports or sororities in college and filled her time with extracurricular activities like the debate club, she would be able to quell the worries in her head that her sister was the only winner in the family. 

Of course, those who truly knew her, knew how much she loved Elsa. It was one of those things that just… was. Inevitable and innate. In her eyes, Elsa was perfect. And she hated her for it just as much as she adored her for it. Because where she was clumsy, Elsa was poised. Where she didn’t know when to shut up, Elsa would say the right thing at the right time. Where she would feel inferior, Elsa would tell her just how much there was to admire. And where she would go weeks without contact, Elsa would give her a call, reminding Anna of all the times she has ever loved her. 

But that didn’t seem to matter in the end. Anna pulled away from the family in order to forge her own identity and so did Elsa. The Holmen sisters, thriving. The parents, proud. It was perfect. It should have been perfect. Except it wasn’t. 

Somewhere deep inside, Anna always knew there was something missing.

~~~

The night skies were crackling by the time she got in the taxi. The driver was requesting an address. The radio was giving out unsurprising news.

There is a thunderstorm warning already being reported by the National Weather Service in areas such as Miami, Miramar, Aventura and other parts of South Florida, with potential wind gusts up to fifty-five miles per hour—

“You’re shitting me,” Anna muttered under her breath, already pulling out her phone again. The first time she’d done it was to let Elsa know she’d landed. Some drab text that was responded to with a much nicer Can’t wait to see you! It shouldn’t have warmed Anna as much as it did but that was beside the point. 

Her mother picked up after the fourth ring. “Hi, honey. I was just about to call you. Did you land safely?” 

“Hi. Yes, I did. Did your flight get canceled yet?” 

“No,” her mother drawled. “It is delayed.” 

The man on the radio went on and on about flooding and frequent lightning. The first signs of rain speckled the car’s windows. The trees were wildly ruffled by the wind. 

“But you saw the news, right? It’s going to be canceled eventually.” 

“Even if it is,” Iduna said calmly, “we can fly in tomorrow. This isn’t an emergency. We can wait.” 

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “This was a bad idea,” she couldn’t help but say. 

There was a pause before Iduna spoke again. “Can you fault us for wanting to spend time with you two? It’s the only time of the year you’re free, given how holidays seem to be getting more and more complicated for you.” It was a jab, fair and square; exactly what Anna got from skipping Thanksgiving and Christmas for the past two years. 

“Could’ve been anywhere but Miami,” she still mumbled. 

“Miami is nice,” her mother argued. “Besides, your sister’s apartment has room for all of us.” There was something hidden in her mother’s voice that made her feel dejected. The underlying praise that Elsa always seemed to get even by the most offhanded of comments. Even when she wasn’t in the room. 

Anna was ready to hang up. 

“Just let me know when you’ll be flying in.” 

“Maybe you girls can catch up in the meantime,” Iduna suggested as if she hadn’t heard her, “I know it’s been a while for you too, but trust me, it’ll be like old times.” 

Looking out the window, Anna forced a smile even though no one was watching. “Sure, mom,” she said. Truth was, she couldn’t remember what old times even felt like. 

After hanging up, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. The ride was supposed to be a short one. Ten minutes or so, Elsa had told her over the phone some days ago. She’d sounded happy—excited in that demure way of hers that was stupidly charming and which drove Anna nuts in a way she could not explain. 

Was Anna also excited? It was hard for her to tell. Her knee began to bounce as soon as the car merged into traffic. Her palms were damp despite the coolness inside. Her heart was beating like it was trying to hammer its way out of her chest. No, she was nervous. Or maybe… maybe she was both. 

Maybe she was just a mess and acceptance was long overdue.

When the taxi slowed down and parked outside an apartment building Anna only recognized from pictures Elsa had shared in their family group chat, she briefly considered asking to be taken back to the airport. But instead, she paid the fare and allowed the driver to pull her carry-on suitcase out of the trunk amidst strong gusts of wind and a rain that was starting to pick up. “Welcome to Miami,” the man exclaimed—sarcastic given the circumstances—while all Anna could do was give him a smile she was sure looked more like a grimace. 

The wheels of her suitcase announced her entrance into the building. The lobby was empty; quiet in an almost unsettling way. She sent Elsa a quick message and ignored the sensation of her stomach churning in anticipation. A distant thunder rumbled as she made a left, slowly heading for apartment 112. 

It didn’t come as a surprise that Elsa was waiting for her outside. She was leaning against the door, flashing Anna a lovely smile she did not know she had missed until that moment. 

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” were Elsa’s first words. 

“I thought I wasn’t gonna make it,” were hers. 

Her sister met her halfway with outstretched arms that welcomed her with such gentle affection that Anna could not help but melt in the embrace for a brief pause. Elsa smelled like gardenias, faint and familiar. 

After stepping back, she stretched out a hand to grab a hold of Anna’s suitcase. “Let me take this for you.” 

“I—it’s okay. It’s not heavy.” 

Elsa gave her another disarming smile. “I don’t mind, Anna. You must be tired.”

She found herself blushing for no reason as she let Elsa take the suitcase and lead her down the hallway. “I’m not, actually. Just… weary. Lots of turbulence.” 

“Well,” Elsa dragged out, “mom called.” 

“Of course she did.” 

Elsa chuckled. They entered the apartment at the same time that she announced, “Their flight’s canceled ‘til tomorrow.” 

Anna rolled her eyes. “Shocker.” She paused in the middle of the spacious living room, taking things in. It all looked so perfect. The immaculate furniture, the carefully arranged throw pillows, the pristine wooden floor, the tall plant in the corner that looked real. And then the absolute mess of a storm that was happening outside the window. “I told her since the beginning this was—” 

“A bad idea?” 

Anna turned to where Elsa still stood in the hallway, a hand resting on the handle of her suitcase. 

“What—” 

“Mom told me,” she provided, a sad, apologetic smile slowly appearing on her face. 

Anna’s stomach churned. “I’m sorry. I just meant that—you know, Miami’s weather isn’t the best at this time of year and maybe we could have gone somewhere else like the woods or a small town or, I don’t know, New York or something.” 

“Of course. Yeah.” Elsa rubbed her arm in what Anna could tell was a sign of self-consciousness. “The weather’s pretty bad, huh?” 

“The worst,” she awkwardly agreed. 

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Elsa pointed her thumb in the kitchen’s direction. “I have wine. Would you like some?” 

Anna felt a sliver of ease. “Wine would be nice.” 

She sunk into the sofa while Elsa went to grab a bottle of chardonnay and a couple of glasses. Through the window behind her, she could see that the storm had gathered force. Gusts of wind whipped the heavy rain around while the trees were roughened by it, moving sideways as if tugged by a rope. The street lights, it seemed, shone for a deserted world. 

“Are you hungry?” Elsa asked once she was back from the kitchen. “I can cook something real quick if you are.” 

“I had lunch before getting on the plane,” she answered as she watched Elsa pour the wine. She let out an inconspicuous huff of breath, rubbed her sweaty palms on her jean-clad thighs. Guilt gnawed at her insides. But she meant what she’d said. This was a bad idea because of the weather. Nothing else but that. 

So why did she still feel so guilty? 

“Thank you,” she muttered when Elsa handed her the glass of wine. She watched her join her on the sofa, prop both feet up, fix her platinum blond hair by running a hand through it. Anna wasn’t sure why such a banal action drew so much of her attention. So she decided to look everywhere that wasn’t her sister. “This place is cozy,” she commented.

“It looks like it’s been pulled straight out of a catalogue,” Elsa said. 

“I mean…” 

“It’s okay, you can say it.” 

She chuckled. “Fine. It does. But it’s still nice, and it’s very you.” 

“Very me?” 

“Yeah, you know,” she shrugged, “perfect.” 

Something flashed across Elsa’s eyes that was gone before Anna could discern it. The guilt grew. She tried to mollify it. “You did a good job, though, seriously.” 

“I should take that as a compliment, coming from a successful real estate agent.” 

Anna rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips gave her away. Being called successful by the one person who’d always seemed to be better than her at everything felt nothing short of amazing. “I should hang a sign on your door that says ‘Holmen Approved’.”

Elsa laughed, which instinctively made her smile grow. “What an honor.”

A thunder rumbled in the sky. Anna wondered if it would be a good idea to close the curtains. Watching the city being trashed by a thunderstorm didn’t exactly scream comfort.

“This is my first Miami storm, you know?” Elsa suddenly said. 

“Popped your cherry then.”

Her sister’s foot bumped against hers. “Gross.”

Anna took the time to take a large swig of wine. She wanted to take the edge off herself; get rid of that nagging notion that this was bound to end up being a disastrously awkward night simply because she did not know how to act normal around Elsa. “So how’s the city treating you overall?” she decided to ask, aware that she’d probably asked this before but unable to come up with anything else at the moment.

“I can’t say it’s been bad,” Elsa said, “But I’m looking forward to starting the school year. I’ve had too much free time on my hands.” 

“So there’s no one in your life?” she found herself asking.

“I…” Elsa tilted her head, giving her a curious look, “I would have told you if there were,” she said in a voice that ignited in Anna a deep feeling of shame. How many people had she been with that she had not told her sister about? 

“Besides,” Elsa added, “I just moved here. You know I’m no social butterfly.”

“Right,” she said before she looked away. How could she have forgotten? Elsa had always liked spending time at home rather than being outside, meeting people and making new friends. She liked her books and her European authors whose names Anna could never pronounce. She liked her solitude, her quiet time. And yet… Yet, it had always been her the one unwilling to lose touch.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What about you?” Elsa repeated. “Anyone in your life?”

Anna found it a little comical that they were carrying themselves as if they hadn’t talked in years rather than three days ago. “No,” she responded, “Not for a while.” 

Elsa’s gaze carried a strange sense of intimacy. “I’m sure there’s someone out there…” 

She paused. “Right now? I hope not.” 

The hearty laugh that broke out of Elsa caught her by surprise. It was so uncommon in her that for a moment Anna did not know how to react. All she could process was the way she swooned despite herself, feeling warm all over and even, she dared think, happy. Happy in the company of Elsa in a way she had not been so in years. 

The lights went out some time later, while she was in the bathroom and Elsa was back in the kitchen preparing something to eat. It was one of those things that was predictable yet appalling, and the only thing Anna could think of saying in the middle of the pitch black room was, “Well shit.” 

Back in the living room, Elsa was moving around with her cellphone acting like a single spotlight at a club. She was lighting candles, placing them each on strategic places. “All these catalogue candles are finally going to serve a purpose,” she said, and Anna couldn’t help but smile at the offhandedness of it.

It wasn’t until they’d sat back down, bathed in the warm light of the candles while they ate and shared a lighthearted conversation, that Anna could have laughed at it all. 

Because her mother was right. It was like old times.

~~~

The window had ceased to rattle from the gusts of wind outside, but the power had yet to return and the rain had yet to stop. The food was gone and so was the chocolate bar Elsa had taken out of the non-working fridge. A new bottle of wine sat on the coffee table amidst lit up candles. The girls sat on each side of the sofa, facing each other. 

“There’s no way he said that,” Anna laughed. She was nursing her third glass of wine, more at ease now than she had been the whole two preceding days. 

“He did,” Elsa groaned while she covered her face with the hand that wasn’t holding her own drink. “And then he slipped me a note and winked at me. He winked at me!”

“What did the note say?” 

“Something about how he’d been crushing on me since I gave that Durkheim lecture in class. Can you imagine? How bold he had to be to slip a note like that to his professor?” 

Anna laughed some more. “Can you blame him though?” 

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she responded, embarrassed still.

“Kinda hard to blame him at all for having a crush on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I—” Anna paused. What did she mean? “You know, you’re just,” she waved a hand in her general direction, “you.”

Elsa arched an amused eyebrow. “Me.” 

“Yeah. You’re just… really crushable. No. Wait. That came out wrong. I just—I mean you’re just so pretty and smart and your hair’s always so perfect and you’re practically good at everything you do. So what's—what’s not to like?”

Elsa was biting her lip. It was very distracting. “You think too highly of me,” she murmured.

Anna frowned. “No, I don’t. Or maybe I do. But that’s because it’s true.”

“But it’s not…” She shook her head, trailing off. 

Lightning suddenly illuminated the room. Anna readied herself for the thunder while across from her Elsa began to recoil. The loud bang came at last, making her sister visibly wince.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” 

Elsa shrugged nonchalantly. “Thunder just makes me anxious.” She took a sip of wine as if to restate the casualty of her words, but Anna wasn’t convinced. She watched her closely for a handful of seconds while in her mind she struggled to make a decision. She dwelt on it, bit the inside of her cheek in hesitation. But in the end, the need to comfort Elsa won over everything else.

“Come here,” she said.

“What?”

Anna spread her legs open and patted the empty space between them. “Come here.” 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid, Anna.”

“If you don’t tell anyone, I won’t either.” 

Elsa bit her lip again. And again, Anna’s eyes traveled down to witness it. She set her glass of chardonnay on the coffee table. Might be best to stay clear of alcohol for the rest of the night. 

Elsa moved slowly across the sofa until she finally settled between her legs, facing forward. Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa’s midriff, and was unable to ignore how the whole of her seemed to react to the touch, the proximity, the warmth of Elsa’s body. She rested her chin on her shoulder, felt the way Elsa relaxed and leaned back. A smile appeared on her face. She could not remember the last time they’d embraced like this. 

“You weren’t scared of thunder before,” she pointed out in a soft voice.

“Probably one of those things that comes with age.”

She was amused by her answer. “We’re not that old.”

“But we’re not ten anymore,” came Elsa’s whispered retort. She finished the last of her wine and stretched an arm to place the empty glass next to Anna’s on the table. As she rearranged herself again, Anna paid close attention to the softened features of her face in the dimness of the room. She traced with her eyes the lines of her profile, the freckles that had always been fainter than hers, and the lips that, for some reason, kept drawing her attention tonight.

“What?” Elsa asked.

Anna blinked. “Nothing,” she said, heat prickling the back of her neck.

Her sister shifted slightly in their embrace in give her a side glance. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because.”

“Hasn’t dad told us enough times that ‘because’ is—”

“Not an answer,” Anna finished. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Elsa cast her another glance, lingering this time in a more intimate way. "Then tell me.“

She hesitated. “Were you always this stubborn?”

“No,” Elsa chuckled, “that was you. Stubborn and determined.” 

“Well, I had to be.”

“Why do you say that?”

Anna’s lips parted but no words left her. They were drowned in silence for a moment, the rain incessant against the window. What could she possibly say to that? How could she possibly explain that the sole reason of her determination—of her never-ending stubbornness—was the one sitting safely in her arms?

She rested her chin on Elsa’s shoulder and looked down instead, focusing on the hand that rested atop hers; on the hand whose fingertips had been drawing loose patterns on her skin only seconds ago, drawing a comfort she did not know she deeply needed.

“Anna?”

“Yes?” she answered, lost someplace else.

“Say something…”

She slowly tensed up. There was so much vulnerability in Elsa’s voice that she knew she wasn’t just seeking random thoughts and vacant words. But where Elsa wanted the truth that hid beneath her silence, Anna wanted none of the insecurities that came along with it. She wanted none of the detachment, none of the things that could separate her from her sister. Not tonight. Not again. But no matter how hard she tried, the thoughts persisted. Like a nagging passenger in the backseat of her mind, Anna could not ignore what had been so deeply ingrained into her life.

“It’s dumb,” she murmured at last.

“I’m sure it’s not.”

Anna breathed a weary sigh through her nose. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head to the side, resting against Elsa’s. Her mouth opened again, then closed. Words felt heavy in her tongue, reluctant to come out.

“Why won’t you just drop it?” she asked.

“Because,” Elsa said, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“Is that what you think I feel?”

“Is it not?”

At her silence, Elsa extricated herself from Anna’s arms. She moved in the sofa until she was facing Anna, sitting still between her legs, knees digging into the cushion. The light of the candles danced in the blue of her eyes, piercing Anna’s own until the air left her in one quiet rush. There lay an ardency beneath them, captivating and impossible to look away from, so much so that Anna’s desire to stay quiet shifted into something else entirely.

But then Elsa was talking again, and again, she was asking to know what was going on in Anna’s head. And out of everything she’d ever had to learn, why could she not have learned to deny Elsa a thing?

She gathered what she could of the scattered remnants of her past, of the cumulus of memories that ruled most of her decisions and shaped their relationship into what it was today. The impotence of feeling like she’d never be as good as Elsa turned into the impotence of being unable to put it into words. The back of her eyes stung. A lump formed in her throat. She waved a hopeless hand in Elsa’s direction, and let it drop in defeat.

“I look at you,” she finally said, “and I see all the things I’ll never amount to.” Pain flashed across Elsa’s eyes, causing Anna to look down at the space between them. “I can’t see anything else but that,” she softly added, “and it gets in the way… It’s been getting in the way for so long.”

“Anna, I…” She went quiet. Anna could see the way her chest rose and fell. The brow that was marred with sadness and regret. “I wish I’d known this sooner.”

“Why?”

“So that I could show all the ways you’re a much better person than me.” 

She let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s so unlikely it sounds ridiculous.”

“How?” Elsa questioned. She inched closer until her hands were cupping Anna’s cheeks. “Please tell me how so that I can prove you wrong.”

At the impossibility of looking away, Anna ended up lost in her sister’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered, deep down knowing she would never find an answer to that.

“I know you think I’m this perfect human being,” Elsa murmured, “and that I have everything I could hope for. But the truth is that all the accomplishments in my life could never compare to the mere presence of you in it. And still… I’ve always missed you, even when you were right next to me.”

Anna’s eyes fluttered closed. The walls were crumbling around her and all she wanted was for Elsa to become her solace.

A thumb caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch without thinking. Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest. Her voice was raw when she finally asked, “Do you miss me now?”

“… No.” 

Slowly, Anna opened her eyes. A tender smile was tugging at Elsa’s lips and, like a magnet, the depth of Elsa’s gaze drew her in. She leaned closer until they were breathing the same air and the buzzing in her mind had quietened to a vacant hum. The wind howled, but all Anna could register was the blood pulsing in her ears and the barest of sighs as she softly pressed her lips against Elsa’s.

It was sudden and overwhelming. An impulse fueled by a feverish pleasure that soon drove her to press harder by capturing Elsa’s lower lip between hers. She sucked lightly, eliciting the softest moans out of Elsa as warmth shot straight through her body and settled between her legs. It wasn’t until she nibbled, hoping to elicit a greater reaction out of her sister, that Elsa’s lips parted and their tongues met in a desperate need that would not be satiated.

Submerged in candlelight, their bodies shifted until Anna was lying on top of Elsa with both forearms framing her head. There was no pause in between, only the innate desire for more. Anna could feel her sister writhing beneath her, subtle movements of her hips bucking while her hands trailed up Anna’s back. The room was growing hot. She could feel the smoldering heat in this sweater she wanted to take off as soon as possible. But it was hard to do that when Elsa would not stop kissing her in a way she’d never been kissed before. Her passion shook Anna to the core. It sent waves of ecstasy through her body.

With one last sucking motion on Elsa’s lower lip, she kissed her way down the line of her jaw and towards the warm, soft spot below her ear. The scent of gardenias reached her nostrils. A low, throaty moan reached her ears. Elsa’s hand weaved itself through her hair as she bucked her hips for the last time that night.

The power came back on and all Anna could think of for a dreadful split second was that their parents had walked in on them. She froze with Elsa’s fingers still in her hair and her lips parted in a mix of shock and fear. She was panting, her arms shaking from the propped up position she was in. Below her, Elsa was dead silent.

In the seconds that followed, Anna quickly sat up and looked at her sister with wide, frightened eyes. Elsa’s hair was disheveled, her lips here rosy and plump. The air escaped her lungs in one quick, short breath.

What had they done?

“I’m so sorry,” Anna rushed out, all but falling off the couch on her way out of the living room.

“Wait—”

She did not listen. Her feet carried her down the hallway.

“Anna—”

She ran out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.

Blinded by panic, Anna sprinted towards the exit. She heard a door opening and shutting again, her name being called out. She registered the everlasting emptiness of the lobby before the front glass doors parted, leading her out into the night and a city that was still being pounded down by rain. There, covered only by the roof of the driveway, she froze again, aware of her feet clad in nothing but the mismatched socks she’d put on this morning and the flimsy sweater she’d wanted to get rid of mere minutes ago.

Elsa’s helpless voice came from behind her: “Anna.”

She heaved a sigh and, a moment later, turned around. Elsa was standing there, in socks and downbeat, watching Anna with eyes that begged her to stay. 

“I’m sorry,” Anna said, loud enough that it could be heard above the downpour.

“Don’t apologize. Please.”

“But I shouldn’t have—” She looked away, withdrawing into herself. Her mind was a mess. All that talk about Elsa being perfect must have gotten to her head, messed with her feelings. They got carried away, that was all. It did not matter that she’d enjoyed kissing her. It could not matter.

But Elsa… 

Anna looked at her again; at the person who’d always given her nothing but unconditional love and support. She saw the person who’d taken her out for ice cream after she flunked her calculus test in twelfth grade, the one who’d cheered the loudest when she graduated college. She saw the twelve year-old girl who’d turned six chocolate gold coins into medals and draped them around Anna’s neck that one memorable summer. She saw them all in the woman Elsa had become and was overcome by an insurmountable need to cry. Because Elsa had been the greatest constant in her life and still, Anna felt as if she were seeing her for the first time. Imperfect but beautiful all the same.

“Come back inside,” Elsa murmured at last, taking a step closer towards her.

“But what we did…”

Elsa shook her head and extended a hand for Anna to take. “What we did, we can figure it out together.”

Lightning gave way to thunder, but Elsa barely flinched: Anna was finally holding her hand.

They fell into each other’s arms the same imminent way that sunshine follows the rain. Anna let herself be held as she burrowed into the warmth of Elsa’s neck and hugged her tighter around the waist. Tears prickled her eyes before she shut them closed. They would figure it out, she reminded herself. Whatever this was—whatever this could be—they would do it together. 

“You know,” Elsa said after a while, holding her still, “I don’t think either of us would have made it very far in socks.”

“I did realize pretty late that this was a bad idea.”

Elsa hummed. “Seems like the night’s been full of bad ideas, huh?”

“Maybe not all of them were bad,” she dared to say in a voice so low that the words would have been lost to the rain had her sister not been so close.

“Maybe,” Elsa whispered, holding her tighter and placing a lingering kiss on the side of her head. 

[scullydubois]

one-shot: does a scully pee in the woods?

read on ao3 |  msr flirting and fluff | 1.6k | rated t | s6, pre-Field Trip

tagging @today-in-fic

While driving to North Carolina, Scully has to resort to some dubious tactics to convince Mulder to stop so she can use the bathroom. Unfortunately, she doesn't specify where he should stop...

---------

He promised they would stop once they made it out of Virginia. What Scully didn’t realize is that Virginia is five hours worth of highway, and despite his assurance that he is “driving as fast as he can” and his natural tendency to cruise as much over the speed limit as they can go without getting pulled over, they have still not made it out of the state.

“The next exit, Mulder, please,” she begs, squirming in her seat. She is not used to driving this long. Usually they hop on a flight--with a bathroom, thank you very much--and then head just a few miles out to their destination. But of course, the FBI is cutting their budget, and according to Skinner, the only way they could take this case is if they agreed to make the six and a half hour trip to North Carolina by car. Which hadn’t sounded that bad to either of them. I mean, the open road, the radio, and each other for six hours? What could be wrong with that? Then again, they hadn’t stopped to consider how early they would have to leave DC to make their lunchtime meeting, nor the exponential decline in their ability to tolerate one another with each increasing hour.

Mulder drums the steering wheel in time with the beat of the classic rock song playing. “I’m telling you, we’re almost to the state line. If you’ve made it this far, you can make it another twenty minutes.”

“Are you willing to test that theory?” Scully prods, an eyebrow elevating itself. “Because I know you are a man of many theories, but I really don’t think this is one you want to mess with.”

“Oh, I do.” He flashes a quick smile at her, as if to confirm that, yes, he is amused by her suffering, if she hadn’t noticed.

“ Mulder…” she whines, not even bothering to construct a coherent argument. It’s time to play the card she never plays, the one that will catch his attention and show him that she is serious about this. She hates to stoop this low, but at this point, it’s either play the card or pee her pants.

“Mulder,” she makes her voice sound languid and far out, “has anyone ever told you that you bear a great resemblance to Cary Grant in his young and handsome days?”

He is rather unphased by this. Too unphased for Scully’s liking. “No, and I really don’t, do I?”

“Oh, absolutely.” She lets her voice flutter through the confines of the car. “Dreamy, boyish, yet somehow retaining your masculinity. It’s astonishing, really.”

She sneaks a glance at him. He’s stopped tapping along to the song. He turns the radio down to listen to her like a dog’s ears pricking toward their owner’s voice.

She looks through the windshield, continues her reverie. “He looks like such a gentleman, but I can’t imagine that he’s a gentleman in…” She trails off suggestively, waiting for Mulder to raise some objection.

When she looks at him out of the corner of her eye, he is already looking at her. “What?” she offers innocently. “Do you have proof otherwise?” It’s always a contest of right or wrong for them.

“No, but I might have proof of aliens. Bounty Hunter, I know that’s you, what have you done with the real Scully?”

She considers what would happen if the Bounty Hunter had disguised himself as her and was driving alone with Mulder in the middle of a five lane highway with dozens of other cars. “You know, you’d be screwed right now if it were.”

“Yeah, I get that feeling.”

She wets her lips, navigates the next sentence with precision. “But since it’s not, you can get screwed instead.”

Mulder almost swerves into a jeep in the next lane. “Jesus, Scully!”

“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable…?”

He focuses on the road. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Gee, I wonder what’s that like.” She looks at him with a devilish closed-mouth grin.

Mulder registers this and looks away just as he cracks his own smile. Silly, misbehaving, rebellious Scully has a power over him that would be comparable to religion, if he had one.

“So what I’m hearing is, you want to forsake your opportunity to make it the whole way through Virginia without stopping just so that you’ll actually have some semblance of comfort?” He checks to see if she’s smiling and is happy when she is.

“Something like that, yeah,” she says, imitating his reply from earlier by donning a outlandishly deep voice.

He coughs to hold back a laugh. “Well, the lady’s wish is my command, though I must warn you that the next exit’s not for another seven miles.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we just passed a sign.”

“Mulder, I don’t know what kind of bladder you think I have, but I’ve drank two cups of coffee since the drive started and one before I left my apartment. I would classify this as an emergency.”

“I’ll pull over, then.” He switches lanes, turns on the emergency lights, and presses the brake slightly as he pulls onto the shoulder, all before she can protest.

“This is humiliating, Mulder,” she laments as he unlocks his door, pulls it open.

“While we’re at it, I’ll go too. Save us a stop in North Carolina.”

He’s way too excited about this, she thinks. She unclicks her seatbelt and climbs out of the car like a child dragged to church by their parents.

They proceed toward the woods at the edge of the highway. Mulder leads the way, a subtle spring in his step about getting to return to nature, so to speak, and to embarrass Scully while doing it.

As they hit the dividing line between grass and trees, Mulder looks back at this partner.

“Have you ever peed in the woods, Scully?” he asks with a smirk. “I’m assuming that’s what’s happening here, since you mentioned the coffee.” Scully winces at the rather disgusting image his implication puts in her mind.

She puts on a scholarly, serious tone as they head deeper into the trees. “You know, Mulder--and I’m glad we’re clearing this up-- I have peed in the woods actually. I seem to remember we were stuck in the woods overnight just last year. In Florida, was it? And contrary to what you may believe, I actually did relieve myself during that period of time. Thanks for asking.”

“Wow, you learn something new everyday,” Mulder jokes.

“Exactly.” Scully can’t help but laugh. What a funny little situation this is. They have shared so many instances when the stakes were much higher, life-threatening even, and this is what feels so grueling.

The vehicle noise having quieted significantly, Mulder gauges that they’re far enough from the roadway now. He stakes out a pine tree and steps up to it.

“Don’t look, Scully!” he teases, as if she needed the reminder, as if he really cared.

As he stands there, pants unzipped and all, he can’t help but wonder how many years this tree stood here before some human just decided to come over and do their business on it. That has to suck, huh? You’re just going about your usual tree life--swaying in the wind, rooting deep into the Earth, maybe providing a home for some critters--and then this creature that’s like, fifty times smaller than you comes over and pulls their pants down. What the hell?

A few yards away, Scully hunts for a place that might preserve an ounce of her dignity. Not that she has any left at this point, but it’s a nice idea. There’s some bushes not far off, or she could take a cue from Mulder and squat against a tree. This process is so much more complicated for a woman--you have to get down low, check the ground around you, not hit your shoes…

She chooses a spot behind a bush and crouches down. She hears Mulder zipping his fly, wonders if he’ll be able to see her when he turns around. She can’t see him, so theoretically he shouldn’t be able to see her,  but he’s so much taller that she’s never sure. Then again, she’s not as objected to being seen by him as she expected herself to be. Still, she waits for him to say something.

“Scully, please tell me this wasn’t just some elaborate plot to abandon me in the woods.”

“I’m over here, Mulder,” she reassures. “But don’t come over.”

“Why, what are you doing?” He laughs at his own joke.

“Very funny,” she says, trying to cover the sound of her faculties. This feeling of release is so desperately needed that it’s almost orgasmic. She finishes, then rezips her pants while staying as crouched as possible. Sated, she stands up, pops into Mulder’s view. She tightens her belt as she walks over to him.

She sighs. “I’m glad that’s over.” Mulder smiles. She’s been through far worse, in far more unpleasant conditions, and this is what bothers her. A complex being, his Scully is. They retrace their steps toward the highway.

“You do know that toilets weren’t invented until like, the Renaissance, right?” he teases.

“Sure, but they weren’t just squatting in the woods!”

He pulls the car keys from his pocket. “I guess we’ve solved another X-file…”

Scully gives him the look she’s been giving him for six years.

“...does a Scully pee in the woods?”

She bites her lip, obscures her smile. That’s her Mulder.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Ninety

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: FLUFF!

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You were shaking with excitement. Your Nannie was flying up from Florida today, and you’d be getting your nails done with her after work and heading to dinner. You weren’t sure what Saturday would hold, you’d probably cook a bunch with her so everything was good to go for the Jewish New Year on Sunday. You couldn’t wait to make the brisket with her.

“How come you don’t just take a half day?” Niall asks.

“I need to save my vacation time. I took so much this summer, and I wanna save it back up for when the holidays roll back around. I have Monday off anyways.”

“You must be so excited to have alone time with her.”

“I’m ecstatic! Harry just gets it, you know? He’s so good to me. He’s even leaving work early to pick her up at the airport. He’s really my partner.” You swoon.

“You have no idea.” Niall says under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just said that’s great.” He smiles. “So, what are yeh doin’ tonight?”

“Well, Harry’s gonna stay home with Buster, and she and I are gonna get our nails done and then go out for dinner.”

“Nice! That’ll be fun.”

//

Harry leaves work around 3PM to go pick up Nannie. He pays to park the car and waits inside at the terminal. He sees the baggage claim number for her flight is number three, so he makes his way over there. He was wearing an open short-sleeve button up with a white tank top underneath. The tank top was tucked into a pair of tan slacks. He looked like he had just come from Florida himself.

“Harry!” He’d know her high pitched voice anywhere now.

He turns around and smiles at the short, white haired woman walking towards him. She gives him a hug and kiss and stands at baggage with him.

“Normally I wouldn’t even check a bag for such a short trip, but with all my medication I just didn’t want to risk them throwing anything out.”

“I get it, no big deal.” He smiles. “What’s your bag look like.”

“Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.”

A multicolored bag with butterflies all over it comes out and she nudges him. He chuckles to himself and grabs it.

“Thanks so much for coming in. I’ll give you the money for the parking.”

“You’re welcome, and no need.” He lets his arm out and she hooks hers through it to help her walk across the street to the parking lot.

“Don’t make me yell at you again.” She says as she gets into his car.

“Don’t make me yell back.” He says as he starts the car. She shakes her head and laughs.

“So…what exactly does she think is happening this weekend?”

“She thinks you’re comin’ to celebrate the New Year, and that you’d be stayin’ with us so she wouldn’t have to share her time with you like she usually does.” She nods. “You’re getting your nails done with her tonight and goin’ to dinner.”

“Right, and that’s when I’ll mention what I’d like to do tomorrow.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m very excited about all this.” She puts her hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“Me too.”

“And what will you do tonight while we’re gone?”

“I’ll be callin’ her dad to let him know what my intentions are. I know I don’t need to, but I just feel like it’s the respectful thing to do.”

“Do you plan to do the same with my daughter?”

“No offense, but I don’t think she’d be able to keep it a secret.” He laughs.

“You know what? You’re right.” She laughs too. “If her father raises his voice to you, you let me know. I have no problem giving him my two cents.”

“You don’t have a problem giving anyone your two cents.”

“Damn straight.”

“Are yeh hungry at all? I can whip somethin’ up for you when we get in.”

“I ate on the plane, honey, thank you though. I’m excited to meet Buster!”

“He’s excited to meet you too. He’ll be home waitin’ for us.”

//

Harry gets your Nannie inside, and shows her the guest room before showing her the rest of the apartment. He helps her up and down the stairs of the loft, and takes her out to the balcony. Buster couldn’t get enough of her. He sits with her on the sofa while Harry gets her some iced tea to sip on.

“He’s such a love-bug.”

“Isn’t he? We got really lucky, he’s a chill dog.” He sits down next to her.

“That’s such an interesting outfit you’re wearing. You look like one of the grandpas from Miami.” She laughs. “But I mean that in the nicest way.”

“Thanks.” He laughs too. “I wear a lot of…interesting things.”

“So I’ve seen. Y/N sends me a lot of pictures. I like that you’re so expressive. I think it complements Y/N because she wears plainer clothes.”

“Yeah, she’s really into solids, not a lot of patterns.”

“Think she was scarred for life after some of the hand me downs from Bridget. Too eighties.” She scoffs. “She would always fight with her mum when they’d go clothes shopping, but she never fought with me. If she told me she didn’t like something we’d move on and find something else. Why force a kid to wear something, you know?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

//

You get home as fast as you can. Your two favorite, plus your baby boy were all waiting for you. You key into your apartment, and drop your things at the door. You see Harry and your Nannie chatting on the sofa.

“Nannie!” She turns around and stands up. You race over to her and hug her.

You both start jumping up and down with excitement, making Harry laugh. Buster starts yipping from all the excitement.

“Are you having fun with your Nannie?” You pat his head. “Thank you so much for picking her up.” You give Harry a quick peck. “Are you ready to get our nails done? We need to get there soon.”

“More than ready, just let me pee.” You watch her walk down the hallway. “How is she? She’s good?”

“Yeah, she’s great. She snoozed for a bit this afternoon, tired from the flight.” He smiles. “Had a nice chat with her.”

“Listen, if I give you the list of what we need for tomorrow, could you go to the market tonight? The brisket takes like all day to make and-“

“Say no more, just text it to me.”

“Thank you so much. All of this means so much to me.”

Nannie comes back from the bathroom and out the door you go. Harry gets to the market and buys everything on the list, and puts it all away when he gets in. He sighs and takes his phone out. It was now or never. Your dad picks up on the second ring.

“Hi Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Harry, good to hear from you. How’s the studio?”

“Oh, it’s great! Gettin’ lots of business. Looks like we’ll be plenty busy through the fall.”

“That’s great, so what’s up? Is Y/N alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s out gettin’ her nails done actually.” There’s an awkward pause. “I have some plans for us tomorrow that I’d like you to know about…are you busy this evening?” Harry decided last minute this was something he needed to do in person.

“Um…I can make myself available. I’m an Elks member, why don’t I meet you at the lodge in town. Something tells me we’ll need a beer involved if this is what I think it’s for.” Harry chuckles softly to himself.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up the phone and looks at Buster. “I need to go see Grandpa for a bit, will you be alright until mummy and Nannie get back?” Buster yips at him. “S’what I thought.”

Harry texts Niall that he’ll need him as an alibi, and Niall happily agrees. He grabs his keys and heads towards the Elks lodge.

//

You and your Nannie were just getting your feet into the water for your pedicures.

“That’s a really nice orange you’ve picked out.” She says.

“Thanks, thought it would be nice for fall, you know? I see you went with your classic red.” You giggle. “Did you have anything in mind for dinner tonight? I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.”

“How about we go for some seafood. We could go to the No Name if you felt like driving out that way.”

“Yeah! God, I haven’t been there in years.”

“We can park at the Long Shoreman’s Union building. I’ll just need to go inside and give your Papa’s name.”

“Alright.” You smile at her.

“So, how’s school going?”

“Really good. I had a class over the summer that I finished a couple of weeks ago, and another just started at the beginning of this week. It’ll end in November, and then another will start right after. A lot of the classes are eight weeks. At this rate I’ll easily finish next summer.”

“That’s wonderful honey! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Nannie.”

“Harry told me about all the work you’ve done for him for the studio. Do you think you’ll ever consult with other businesses and tell them how to market their things?”

“I don’t know…I think that would involve a lot of traveling, and I’m not into that. I really like my job, so I’m not looking to make any major changes at the moment. I think if I ever changed careers I’d wanna teach at a collegiate level. Mold the younger minds, show them how to do what I do.”

“I could see that for you actually. I think you’d be a great teacher. But to be fair, I think you could do anything you set your mind to.” She laughs.

“I will say, I did enjoy building Harry’s website. It was fun to work on a project with him.”

“That’s what he said. He really is such a lovely man. You know he parked his car at the airport and waited for me inside?”

“Really?! He never does that. I’m so glad he did that.”

“Carried my luggage out too. I wanted to pay him for the parking, but he wouldn’t let me. It’s funny, no one ever dares fight with me about that sort of thing, but he does. I like it.”

“We’ve fought a few times about him always paying for stuff. He’s a real stickler for it.”

“He’s a proper gentleman, nothing wrong with that. What colors do you think you’ll get your nails?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. I was thinking maybe dark red? I think that would be another fun fall color.”

“Just one color?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I feel like an accent nail this time.” You look at the colors you currently have. “This is nice, but I wanna change it up.”

“Well you know I love red, so I support you on that.” You both laugh.

//

Harry walks into the Elks lodge and your dad is already sitting at the bar. He waves him over, and they shake hands. Harry sits down on the stool next to him.

“What’s your drink, Harry?” Your dad asks. “Feel like a beer or something a little stronger?”

“Whatever you’re havin’ is fine with me, sir.”

Your dad orders two scotches on the rocks, and Harry’s a bit surprised but he rolls with it. They clink glasses and both take a small sip.

“So…get on with it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I know what this is all about, so go ahead, ask me what you wanted to ask me.”

“Well…I’m not necessarily askin’ yeh anything. I’m more so just telling you what my plans are.”

“Alright, so tell me what your plans are.”

“I’m askin’ Y/N to marry me tomorrow night…and even though I don’t need your permission, your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“Do you have her grandmother’s? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but my opinion really doesn’t mean much to her.” She rolls her eyes. “But her grandmother’s…my mother in law means everything to her.”

“I have it…she’s actually helpin’ me with it.” Your dad gives Harry a funny look. “I flew her in. She’s getting’ her nails done with her now, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You flew Nannie in?”

“Yeah.” Your dad laughs and nods, taking another sip of his drink.

“That’s very impressive. You know, before I asked Lynn to marry me, I invited her uncle out for a drink. Her father wasn’t really in her life.”

“Right…Y/N’s Papa wasn’t biologically related, she was Lynn’s stepfather?”

“Technically, but he didn’t have a hand in raising Lynn. He didn’t come into our lives until a year before Bridget was born.” Harry nods. “So Lynn’s uncle was the next best thing at the time, they were close anyways.” He smiles. “I basically asked him what the family thought of me, all the sort of stuff. Wanted to make sure everyone else liked me before becoming part of a family you know?”

“Understandable.”

“Well, if her Nannie approves of you, you don’t need much more reassurance than that.” He sighs. “But it does mean a lot to me that you wanted to do this in person. You’ve only been together a year…”

“I’m aware.” He smiles and takes a sip of his drink.

“And within all that time, you think you know her well enough that you want to spend the rest of your life with her? Because I swear to god if I ever get a phone call saying that you’re leaving her I will kill you, or her brother would kill you. Actually, I think we’d plan to urder you together if you ever did anything to hurt her.”

“Sir, I promise you, I have nothing but the best intentions with Y/N. I don’t wanna be without her, ever. I love her very much, and I wanna be her husband. I want her to be my wife.”

“And you’re positive she wants to be your wife? She wants all the same things you do? Just because you two got a dog together-“

“She does, I can assure you we’ve talked about all this.”

“Does she have any idea this is happening tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“Why does she think her grandmother is here then?”

“Sunday is the Jewish New Year, isn’t it?” Harry grins.

“So you told her you flew her in so her grandmother could be here for the holidays?” Harry nods yes. “Damn, that’s pretty good. She loves surprising other people, this is really gonna get her.” He smiles.

“So…wait, are you sayin’-“

“You have my blessing, Harry.”

Harry stands up and pulls your dad in for a hug, he hugs him back and pats his back.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Harry laughs and sits back down.

“Sorry, just, thank you so much.”

“Does your mother know about all this?”

“Oh sure. She said she was cool with it months ago. I bought the ring over the summer. Would you like to see a picture?”

“No, I’d rather wait for Y/N to send me a picture when it’s on her finger.” He finishes his drink. “Up for another? I can’t believe my baby girl is going to get married. Erica’s gonna pissed.” He laughs. “Took her fiancé ten years to pop the question you know?”

“Guess everyone does everything in their own time. That’ll be a fun wedding, his family is huge.”

“They haven’t even set a date yet. You two will probably get married before they do.”

//

You and Nannie head to the seafood place after your nails are all set. She wouldn’t let you pay, but you insisted she let you pay for dinner. She said you could make that decision when the check came.

“Mm, I haven’t had a decent cup of chowder in forever.” She says.

“There’s plenty of seafood where you live, I find that hard to believe.” You giggle.

“There’s just something about clam chowder from New England. So…what were you thinking tomorrow looked like?”

“Well, I sent Harry shopping. I figured we’d cook all day so Sunday we’d have an easier time setting up for everyone. Plus, it’s better to make the brisket the day before, you taught me that.”

“Very true. That’ll be nice, you know I love when we get to cook together. I was thinking for dinner though we could go to Castle Island.” You almost choke on your water. “We could watch the sunset at the beach, and then walk over to Sully’s, wouldn’t that be fun? We could walk over to the park, sit on the swings, and then go back for ice cream just like we used to.”

“Nannie…I would love to do that. I went with Harry and Niall at the beginning of the summer and I’ll be honest, I got a little emotional.”

“It’s hard not to when there’s so many good memories. We’ll be an extra vanilla ice cream for Papa, it’ll be like he’s with us the whole time.”

“That sounds nice. The weather is supposed to be really warm and clear tomorrow, so I think a sunset beach walk is perfect.”

//

Harry gets back from drinking with your dad before you get back with your Nannie. He brushes his teeth to get the liquor off his breath, and chews some gum. He lets Niall know he’s back as well. He takes Buster out quick, and settles in on the sofa.

You and your Nannie come in, and sit with him on the sofa.

“Have a nice time out, girls?”

“It was great, like my nails?” You stick them in his face.

“They’re beautiful.”

“What about mine?” Your Nannie copies you.

“Absolutely lovely.”

Your Nannie goes to change into a nightgown and robe, and you go put a t-shirt and shorts on.

“Now, it’s Friday night, so I need to watch Beach Hunt Bargain Hunt on the Home Network.” She says to you.

“Of course, Nannie.”

You switch the Hulu Live, and put her show on for her. Harry changes into some pj’s as well, grabs his glasses and book, and comes back to the couch.

“Oh, here’s Mrs. Asshole, it’s a vacation home, you can paint!” He looks up from his book in shock at your grandmother’s language.

“Right?! These people give me a fucking headache.”

“And here’s her husband, Mr. Asshole, who she’s clearly only with for the money, ready to walk away from a perfectly good place because her lazy ass can’t be bother to paint.”

“You both realize this show is completely staged right?” You both whip your heads in Harry’s direction. “They’ve already picked out and paid for the home they want. The the other houses they look at don’t matter. That’s why they come up with stupid excuses not to buy them.”

“Harry, honey, shut the fuck up.” Your Nannie says with a big smile. “Go back to your book.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but decides against it. You can’t help but giggle. He was right, but half the fun of the show was just going with it.

Around 10PM you all call it a night. Harry says goodnight to your grandmother and heads into the bedroom.

“Night precious girl.”

“Night Nannie.” You both hug and kiss, and you go into the bathroom to do your routine. You snuggle up to Harry.

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” He asks as you lay on his chest.

“We’re going to cook for most of the day, and then she asked if I’d take her to Castle Island. Do you wanna come?”

“Oh, that sounds great! But I actually have an engagement shoot tomorrow evening.”

“Will you be gone during the day too? Thought maybe you’d like to cook with us, see how it’s all done.”

“Definitely free in the morning.”

“Good.” You snuggle in closer. “I know I don’t like to share her, but I like the idea of the three of us spending time together.”

“Me too, angel.”

“She likes you a lot Harry. She went on and on about this evening.”

“Aw, well I like her a lot too. I can see where you get a lot of your personality from.”

“She’s been a really good role model, for sure.”

“She told me a lot of your Papa this afternoon…”

“She did?”

“Yeah, she really drove home how you were just his little baby. Brought tears to my eyes.”

“He was the best, plane and simple.”

//

The next morning, you get up early knowing your grandmother was an early riser. You get some coffee started, and make oatmeal for the three of you.

“Morning, Nannie.” You say sitting down at the island.

“Morning darling girl. Is one of these for me?”

“Yup, oatmeal and I made your coffee how you like it…black with two Splenda.”

“Thank you, honey.” She sits down next to you at the island.

Harry comes in shortly after, only in a pair of boxers, rubbing his eyes.

“Um…Harry?” He hums his response as he grabs the coffee you made him. “A bit under-dressed for company don’t you think?”

He looks down at himself and then to your grandmother who was trying not to laugh.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot, and-“

“So, like, go put some clothes on, dude.” You say laughing, and he turns to go. “Sorry about that, Nannie. He’s always really groggy on the weekends.”

“It’s alright, it’s your home after all. Plus, he’s not bad to look at.” You gasp playfully at her and nudge her shoulder. Harry comes back in with a t-shirt and sweatpants on.

“Oatmeal’s on the counter for you. Put grapes in how you like.”

“Thanks.” He smiles and sits next to your grandmother. She squints as his tattooed left arm. “Yes?”

“Is that a naked woman? How did I not notice this before?” She points to the mermaid on his arm.

“Yeah, she’s naked.” He shrugs and takes a bite of his oatmeal.

“Why?”

“Why not?” He smirks at her. “I have a lot of weird ones, try not to question it, Nan.” He takes another bite. “Some of my bigger ones I’ve had to use to over up other ones. Like these two on my forearms covered up two quotes that I just didn’t like anymore. And then I used to have another quote here.” He points to one of his hips. “So the ferns cover that up. Plus, I just liked how symmetrical it looked with the birds.”

“I think I like the butterfly the best, I love butterflies.” They smile at each other. “Y/N, what’s your favorite tattoo of Harry’s.”

“The sunflower near the mermaid.” He flexes his arm to show your grandmother. “He got it months ago for me…when I got my nose pierced.”

“Oh! That’s stunning. It’s amazing how they can get so much detail in such a small area.”

“You know that rose ring I wear as a necklace?” She nods. “So, I wear Harry’s favorite flower, and now he wears mine.”

“But you also got him that ring.”

“Yup.” You giggle. “Not everyone can see the tattoo so easily.”

You all finish breakfast, and your Nannie cleans up the dishes. You tell her you just need to shower and then you can get to cooking. Harry follows you into the bathroom.

“You’re nuts if-“

He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you. You don’t fight him on it, it felt good to have his lips on yours.

“Don’t worry, I’m not lookin’ for any funny business.” He gives your bum a pat and turns the water on for the shower. “I also need a shower.”

“You’re always looking for funny business.”

“I’m choosin’ to be respectful of our guest.” He steps into the water and so do you. “Embarrassing enough that she got an eye-full this mornin’.”

“Oh, it was fine, she didn’t care.”

You both get out of the shower when you’re done and get dressed. For now you throw your hair up in a bun, and put some sweats on. Harry does the same.

“I’m gonna take Buster out while you both get set up.” He kisses you on the cheek while you go into the kitchen with your grandmother.

“I like that he calls me Nan, that was cute.

“Wasn’t it?”

You preheat the oven and pull out everything you need for the brisket. Nannie gets a pot of water started for the carrots and potatoes. They would need to be partially boiled before going in the oven with the meat. You both get to peeling. Harry comes back with Buster.

“What can I help with?”

“Chop these up after we’ve peeled them.” You say to him and he nods.

A little while later after going through the recipe, you get the brisket in the oven.

“How long does it cook for?”

“That’s getting slow cooked for six hours. Then you drain all of the juices into a pitcher and put it in the fridge overnight. You can get all of the fat out easier that way. And you also cut up all the meat. Then tomorrow you put it all back together and bake it for like an hour to heat it back up. It’s so good. Cuts like butter.” You take out two pans and put a new pit of water onto the stove. “Gotta make the kugels now. Fair warning, the place will smell like meat.”

“I don’t mind, bet it’ll smell really good. So, this is your recipe, Nan?”

“It’s actually my brother’s.” She laughs. “But I made it more often than he did. When I moved to Florida he started making it more often again. I think he makes it the best, but I’d never tell him that.”

“I can’t wait to see him tomorrow. Everyone’s excited to see you.”

“Well, they better be. I came all this way for a reason, didn’t I?”

Harry was getting more nervous by the second. Every hour that passed was another hour closer to the big moment. He would need to head out soon. Luckily, everything he needed was at the studio, including the clothes he’d be wearing.

“All that’s startin’ to smell really good.” He says when he comes out to the living room dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt. “I gotta get goin’, long drive to the shoot.”

“Alright, babe.” You stand up to give him a kiss goodbye. “Have a good time. Will you be late?”

“Probably, don’t wait for me to eat or anything.”

“We’ll be eating at Sully’s.” You say. “I could bring you back something if you want.”

“That’s alright sweetheart, just enjoy the time there.” He kisses you again, and he waves off to your grandmother and gives her a nod. You go to sit with her.

“Brisket should be done soon. Let’s go check on it. I wanna get it cut up and all that before we head out.”

“Good idea.”

You both get everything situated once it’s done. It smells even better than you remember. You refrain from taste testing it. You’d rather just save it for tomorrow.

“That’s good honey, well done.”

You get it all in the fridge.

“I’m gonna go wash up. I might wear a dress, it’s so nice out.”

“That’s a great idea, wear your hair down too, you have such pretty hair.”

You smile at her and go into the bedroom to change. Buster follows you in. You pull out a white dress with buttons down the front. It had thick spaghetti straps, and flowed to just past your knees. You figured she’d approve. You also loved it because it had sunflowers on it. You didn’t really care ofr floral prints, but you liked how large the flowers were and how they were scattered around. You put a little makeup on, and fix your hair so it’s down and wavy. You put on some cute sandals and meet her back out to the living room. She had put on some white slacks and a sweater. You knew it was a little chillier for her.

“Wanna bring Buster too?” She asks.

“Sure! I think he’ll enjoy that.”

//

You get to the beach around 4PM, well before sunset. You both sit across the street on one of the benches, and watch as people walk and run by. Families with strollers, kids still playing outside. It was a really nice evening.

“It’s funny, not a lot has changed has it?” She asks.

“Not really, but that’s what I like about it. I can come here and it feels like I’ve stepped into a simpler time. Like if I were on the beach itself, I could look back here and see Papa sitting at this bench.”

“He’s with us for sure, baby.” She squeezes your hand.

After an hour or so of walking along the peer, you drive over to Sully’s. You get your chicken nuggets, and your Nannie treats herself to a hot dog, not something she ever really eats, but it was what your Papa really liked to eat. You give Buster some water, and you both stand up to start walking towards the park.

“Not a lot of people here this evening…weird, it’s so nice out.”

“Yeah, that is weird.” Your Nannie looks over to the bathroom. “Honey, I just need to go pee quick. That large water went right through me.” She laughs. “Why don’t you head down to the playground and wait for me there.”

“Okay.” You shrug.

“Can I take Buster with me?”

“You want to take Buster into the bathroom with you?”

“Are you questioning your Nannie?” You look at her for a second and down to Buster. You shrug again and hand her the leash. “Be there in just a second, go on.” She smiles and walks towards the bathrooms.

You notice less and less people around as you walk towards the playground. It was a beautiful sunset, where was everyone? There weren’t even any kids around. When you get closer you notice twinkling lights strung up all around the jungle gyms and other things to play on. You had never seen it look so pretty. You start to hear music, You’ve Made Me So Very Happy by Blood, Sweat & Tears was playing. You look behind you and don’t see your grandmother anywhere, nor do you hear Buster.

“Oh my god.” You say to yourself. You walk a little fast towards the playground and you stop short when you see Harry standing there with a big smile on his face.

He was wearing your favorite pair of green slacks and white, silk shirt with the first few buttons undone. His curls were looking nice and bouncy, and he had his hands behind his back. You walk a little closer to him, but stand a few feet away from him.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Are you surprised?”

“I literally have no idea what’s going on right now…is that our song playing? And what’s with all the lights? And…there’s no one here, how did you-“

“Turns out you can rent this spot out for functions. It’s like I said earlier, I had an engagement shoot to go to.” Your mouth falls open. “Y/N.” He steps closer to you and takes one of your hands in his. His palms were sweaty, and his nerves were shot to hell, but it this was happening now. “I never imagined my life looking the way it does now.” You were hazing up at him. It was like you were the only two people in the world. “I’ve loved every moment with you over the last year, even the less than favorable ones. I feel like we’ve really grown together in so many ways. I feel like…” He takes a deep breath and you give his hand a squeeze. “I feel like we were made for each other, you’re my soulmate, you’re my light, you’re my…everything.” You bite your inner cheek to keep from losing it. “I’ve known what I’ve wanted with you for a while, and I have a pretty good feeling that you want it with me too.” His eyes grow glossy. “I wanted this to happen here because I know how special this playground is for you. I wanted your Nan here…and…I wanted your Papa here too.” Tears start to fall down your cheeks. “I at least wanted it to feel like he was here with you, baby.” He wipes his own tears away and you nod. “There have been a lot of things I’ve been unsure about in my life. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, done a lot of really shitty things. But the one things I’m absolutely certain about is you, Y/N. Everyday with you is an adventure, and I want that adventure forever.” He gets down on one knee, your hand still in his. His other hand was in a fist behind his back. He brings it out front, and reveals the ring, holding it up when with his thumb and forefinger. You gasp when you see it, it was stunning, not that it mattered. You’d wear a piece of string around your finger if it was from Harry. “I love you so much, Y/N. Can we have this adventure forever? Will you marry me?”

THE END

MY EVERYTHING – A TAKE IT SLOW SEQUEL – WILL BE COMING TO YOUR DASH SOON!

a/n: I just want to take a moment to thank you all for the support over the last few months. I started writing this story at the end of January, and I think I tripled my follower count because of it. So many of you kept me motivated to keep going, and I am so grateful. I can’t wait to start writing the sequel so we can see what happens for these two next. 

[dameronsgalaxygal]

I’ve Been Waiting For You - Chapter 10: Angel Eyes

series masterlist

Pairing: modern!poe x reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, language, implications of smut.

Song: Angel Eyes

A/N: Alright, ya’ll have been wanting to find out what Poe’s been hiding. Here it is. I’m pretty sure I overhyped it, but oh well. Next chapter will go into more detail, which means more angst. Taglist is open and comments and feedback would be lovely!

Summary: It’s your one year with Poe. Poe has a freakout, which freaks you out. 

“Would you have guessed that we would have made it a year?” Poe asked you honestly.

You and Poe were sitting outside a small cafe in downtown Miami on the early morning of your one year anniversary.

“Honesty? I wouldn’t have guessed I would even been in a relationship,” You chuckled softly.

You had officially been living in Florida for over a year, and you had spoken to your parents a total of four times: your birthday, their birthdays, and christmas. You hadn’t heard from Kyle at all, which was surprising. Well, except for one voicemail that you had received on a whim one afternoon a couple weeks ago that you still hadn’t opened. You were doing well, really well, and you weren’t going to allow one voicemail to ruin that for you.

Things with Poe were phenomenal, including the sex. At first you questioned why you waited so long, but you knew you made the right decision. With your past, you needed to be ready, and the first time you two slept together was truly a date you were going to remember. You had never felt so loved by anyone more than you felt that night. You were glad you waited until you were physically and emotionally ready, because if you had slept with him that night after the bar, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in now. Happy.

Poe smiled sympathetically, “I know I tell you this all the time, but I am so proud of you. I’m lucky to be your person. I am lucky to be your boyfriend,” He took a bite of his toast.

You sipped your lemonade as your cheeks turned a bright red and Poe chuckled.

“Blushing, are we?” He teased.

You shot him a look and he winked.

You continued to eat breakfast for a while until Poe spoke again, “So, since you wouldn’t let me plan anything, can you finally tell me what we’re doing today?”

You shook your head, “It’s a surprise.”

“Baby,” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Can I at least get a hint?”

“Nope,” You grinned mischievously.

You had decided to plan out the whole day for you and Poe, a change from the normalcy between you two. On most days, Poe was the one to organize the dates. Today, you decided to take charge. Mostly because there was a big event happening in Miami Beach that coincidentally landed on your one year and you felt like it would be a perfect way to celebrate.

You were taking Poe to the Miami Beach Air and Sea Show. It was perfect. Poe loved fighter jets, and you were very much aware of this. Since you started dating, you had seen Top Gun a total of 12 times, and he had even bought pre-sale tickets for the sequel (which doesn’t come out for another four months), you had noticed more books and antique fighter jets around his house and sometimes he would even talk to you about his knowledge on them. It was no secret he had an obsession with flying. What better way to spend your anniversary than watching him witness what he loves?

You finished up breakfast quickly, checking your phone for the time. You needed to be at least two hours early if you wanted to find parking and get a good spot before the show started. Poe paid the check, the one thing he did insist on doing for your anniversary, before you two headed toward the car.

“Keys.” You held your hand out for Poe to toss you his car keys.

“Can’t you just tell me where to drive?” He pouted.

“Well then what’s the fun in that? Keys.” You repeated, winking.

He rolled his eyes playfully before reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. He placed them in your hand and you pecked his lips before getting in and driving towards the show.

As you started to approach, large billboards surrounded the area with arrows pointing to garages with bold letters that said ‘Event Parking’ and security guards led cars through to avoid any unnecessary traffic.

You pulled around a corner to get through to the parking garage when you noticed Poes face shift.

“Um,” He swallowed hard, “Where are we going?”

You glanced at him briefly and shot him a smile before continuing to drive, “The Miami Annual Air and Sea Show.”

“Oh.”

You frowned, “You aren’t excited?”

He looked at you, “No, no, no. I am. I am..”

“You don’t sound like it.”

He sighed, “I just wasn’t expecting it. How did you find it?”

You nodded, “Well I was looking into things to do for today and this popped up. I thought it would be fun given your obsession with Top Gun and all.”

“Right, yeah.” He smiled softly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion but turned back to the road, finally finding a spot to park. His reaction was odd, you had expected him to be more excited. You managed to brush it off once he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it.

Poe held you close to him as you walked down to the shore. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist and he chewed his nails nervously, looking around as if he was looking out for something.

You looked up at him, frowning.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” He continued to look around.

“Babe, what’s going on with you?” You reached up to move his hand away from his lips.

“What? Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Baby,” He stopped walking, putting a hand on your cheek, “I’m fine. Just.. I’ve...I’ve never been here before. Lots of people. It’s intimidating.”

You chuckled, “Poe, there’s nothing to be intimidated by. It’s fun. Everyone sits on the shore and watches the ships and fighter jets do cool tricks and stuff. It’s a way to honor the special forces.”

“Trust me, I know,” He said almost too quietly, looking away.

“Huh?” You tried to meet his eyes.

“Nothing.” He smiled softly, “Come on.”

Okay. This was getting weird. Regardless, you headed to the shore.

You found a spot a bit further back on the sand but with still a good view of the ships and, of course, the sky where the planes would be flying. You laid down a blanket before sitting down.

Poe stayed standing, analyzing the view. He sighed.

“Poe? Are you sure you’re alright?”

He looked down at you before sitting next to you, “Yeah.”

You nodded, putting your head on his shoulder. Soon, a man came onto the loud speaker to thank everyone for joining the show and that it would be starting in approximately half an hour. You turned to Poe.

“Would you mind going to get some drinks? I’ll stay here and watch the stuff. Plus, I could use a little tan.” You smirked.

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you softly, “Sure. Beer?”

“Margarita if they have them, please.”

“You got it.” He smiled, going to the small bar located on the boardwalk.

Poe sighed in relief as he turned away from you, walking up the dock. He made his way to the bar, waiting in line with his hands in pockets. He looked around as people walked by with food and drinks, talking about their excitement for the show. He took a breath.

“Well, well, well, if that isn’t Poe Dameron.”

Poe shot his head to look at where the familiar voice was coming from. A man and woman stood before him.

Poe clenched his jaw, “Zorii. Hux.” He greeted them.

“Didn’t think you’d come back here after what happened.” Zorii crossed her arms.

“Yeah, what, with how you basically cut everyone off… and with what you did. You’re ballsy, Dameron.” Hux smirked.

Poe swallowed hard, “My girlfriend brought me here. I didn’t know.”

Zorii nodded unsympathetically, “Ah, so you haven’t told her? Because if you did, I doubt she would bring you back here.”

He took a deep breath, his body completely tensing, “No. I haven’t told her.”

“Why not?” Hux asked.

“It’s none of her business.”

Hux chuckled, “I think I would like to know if my significant other was kicked out of the military.”

“Oh, for sure.” Zorii smirked at Hux then looked at Poe.

“It’s not that easy.” Poe stated.

“Really? All you have to say is ‘by the way, I don’t listen to orders very well, so I got kicked out of the service’.” Zorii said dramatically.

“Stop.” Poe begged.

“Oh, what are you going to do, go cry to mommy? Oh wait...” Hux made a fake pouty face.

Poe’s face turned bright red in anger, “Shut up.”

“Like I said, you are ballsy for letting her bring you here. I’m sure it brings back memories,” Hux sighed dramatically, looking around.

“Remember when you were that fucking cocky, you thought you could do whatever the hell you wanted, and you wound up…”

“Dishonorably discharged.” Hux finished Zoriis sentence, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

With that, Poe pushed past the two and rushed back to where you and him had been sitting. You were laying on the blanket, sunglasses on and arms behind your head.

“Y/N.”

You snapped up, “Fuck, Poe.”

You put your hand on your heart, “You startled me,” You looked at him, wondering where the alcohol was, “Where are the drinks?”

“I didn’t get them. We have to leave.” He said quickly, his breath picking up.

“What? Why? The show hasn’t even-”

“We need to leave.” He gritted his teeth, packing up the bag.

“Poe, what is going on?” You stood up in fear, watching as he bunched the blanket into a ball and handed it to you.

“I’ll explain when we get home. Just please, we have to go.”

You only stared at him for a second before nodding slowly. You had no clue what was happening, but you had never seen Poe freak out like this, so you followed him in hope that you would get some answers soon.

He dragged you to the car quickly, throwing things into the trunk before getting into the car, slamming the door. You jumped at the noise before getting in yourself. He quickly drove off in the direction of his place.

The car ride was silent and awkward. You were sad that your plan for your anniversary didn’t follow through. You thought Poe would enjoy it, from what you knew about his love for aviation and his favorite movie being Top Gun. However, Poe seemed really nervous, even scared, and you were worried, so you let it go. You wanted to know what was going on, though.

You finally got back to his place and he rushed inside, you following shortly behind him.

“Finn?” Poe called out as he walked in.

No response.

“I think he was going out with Rose today,” You said gently.

“Oh thank god.” Poe sighed in relief, heading to the cupboard and grabbing the bottle of vodka and a shot glass.

“Poe,” You put your purse down on the counter, “What the hell is going on?”

He poured himself a large glass before turning to you, “I’m sorry I freaked out like that.” He downed his drink.

“It’s okay,” You walked toward him carefully, “I just want to know what’s going on.”

You rubbed his arm as he took another shot and placed the glass on the counter. He sighed, putting his hands on your hips, squeezing them.

“Baby,” You searched for his eyes.

He took a deep breath, looking at you,  “Um…” He searched for what he wanted to say.

You squeezed his shoulder, letting him know it was okay to tell you.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you.” He admitted.

You gulped, “Okay..”

“My mom,” He started, “My mom didn’t die of cancer.”

You cocked your eyebrow.

“She, um, she died in battle.” He took a shaky breath.

“Battle?”

He nodded, “My mom was in the service. Air Force.”

You bit your lip, nodding.

“She died when I was eighteen. Her jet was shot down and she died when it hit land. It exploded and…” He stopped for a minute, looking up to collect his tears.

“She was dispersed immediately.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew he was close to his mom, his tattoo proved that. You understood why being physically in front of fighter jets would be rough for him, his mother died in one. You didn’t understand why he lied to you, but you rubbed it off. He needed to be comforted.

“I’m so sorry, Poe.” You whispered, looking down.

He sighed, “It’s okay. There’s just a difference between seeing fighter jets in movies and having action figures and seeing them in person. Brings me back to the day I found out.”

You gave him a sad smile, nodding. “I understand.”

You didn’t understand his exact situation, but you understood trauma. Bad memories brings you back to dark places, and it probably did the same for him.

“You could have just told me, you know.” You rubbed his arm again.

“I know.”

You sighed. He still seemed uneasy.

“Is that it?” You asked softly, genuinely wondering if there was anything else he wanted to tell you.

I was discharged from the Air Force for disobeying orders. I nearly killed a man and myself in the process. I cussed out my Colonel and slapped my roommate.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He smiled softly.

He wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you so bad. But his issues didn’t matter. Yours were more important. He needed to take care of you. Make sure you are okay. Right?

“Okay.” You leaned up to kiss him softly.

He kissed you back gently.

“I’m sorry I ruined our anniversary,” He frowned.

You shook your head, “You didn’t. I still want to go out to dinner tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

He smiled and nodded, “I’d love to.”

“Great. We have reservations at six. Until then…?”

Poe smirked, leaning down to kiss your neck, “To the bedroom, madam?”

“Please.”

--

“Seriously, I don’t know why I waited so long.” You collapsed on his chest, catching your breath.

He laughed, stroking your hair, “Yes you do. You’re just saying that now because you’re realizing how good I am.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, swatting his arm.

“Ow!” He chuckled.

“Oh, you’re fine. What time is it?”

Poe reached over to grab his phone, checking the time.

“4:45.”

“Shit,” You popped up, “We have to get ready.”

“It does not take that long to get ready.” He crossed his arms.

“For you! I have to go home and change and do my hair and makeup. I wasn’t expecting to fuck all day, I actually had plans.” You got up, grabbing your clothes and throwing them on quickly.

He smirked, “What, these aren’t good plans?”

You shot him a look and he winked.

“I’m going to go home and shower and then I’ll come back over and we can go. I’ll be back soon, okay?” You started for the door.

“Okay. I love you!”

“Love you!” You yelled as you left.

Poe sighed happily, leaning back in the pillow. His smile dropped when he remembered he was still keeping something from you. You did deserve to know, but he was so focused on making you feel safe that he didn’t feel like his problems were important. He was so focused on earning your trust.

Your trust. Shit.

He groaned, running his hand down his face. He stayed in bed for a bit until he checked his phone again. It was 5:15 and he needed a shower. Maybe he would tell you everything over dinner. You couldn’t get mad at him at dinner right? He figured out what he would say while he showered.

--

“Poe!” His door was unlocked, “You ready?” You called out.

“One sec,” Poe emerged from his room while he fixed his tie.

You smirked, “Well hello handsome.” You giggled.

Poe whistled at you. You were wearing a beautiful dark blue tight dress and black heels with your hair curled and makeup done nicely. Nothing too extravagant, but it fit the occasion.

“Hey there sexy lady,” He kissed you urgently.

You giggled against his lips, tapping his chest, “You keep kissing me like that and we won’t make it to dinner,” You teased

Poe wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes, “I was kidding. Let’s go.”

He laughed, “Okay, okay. Let me find my keys.”

You nodded as he searched around the kitchen searching for where he last placed them.

“Oh shit,” You groaned in realization.

“What?” Poe shot his eyes to you in fear.

“I forgot a jacket. Do you have something I can wear?” You asked desperately.

He chuckled, “Yeah, just check for something in my closet.”

You smiled and nodded, heading to his room and going into his closet.

You looked for something that would at least match your dress, even though you wouldn’t be wearing it very long. Just while you traveled to and from the car.

You pushed through the shrine of jackets, nothing catching your eye until you got to a green jacket with a patch that matched the logo of the Air Force. You pulled it off the hanger and examined it. On the patch read ‘Captain. Poe Dameron’. Your mouth opened slightly.

“Hey, baby. It’s 5:45, are you ready to-” Poe walked in and saw you holding his old Air Force jacket.

Fuck.

Poe ran a hand through his hair, “I see you found a jacket.” He put his hands in his pockets.

“What is this?” You asked.

Poe swallowed hard, “It’s my old Air Force jacket.”

“Your old Air Force jacket? You were in the military?” You rose your eyebrows.

He sighed, “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Poe sighed, running his hand down his face.

“Poe.”

He looked up at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was going to be a long night.

taglist <open> @twomoonstwosuns @darksideofclarke @damnyoudameron @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @rewritingstarrs @aidela @softly-sad @fanfiction-trashpile @lanatheawesome @fantasticcopeaglepasta @the-cry-of-youth @yeeintensifies @itsamedeemoney @yougottakeeponkeepinon @cloud-leader @multifandomlife22 @aroseamongthestars @liadamerondjarin @eternallyvenus @xremember-me-notx @frietiemeloen

[junejalow]

"Is everything okay?"

This fic is for thicciq who requested IQ/GSG9 with the prompt "Is everything okay?"

Honestly took me awhile to come up with something for this but I hope this is alright <3 Thank you for reading!

Chapter Text

The last two months had been hectic and rushed, It seemed like once a team was dropped off, another was being picked up at the same time. The White Masks were pulling one stunt after another. Everything seemed to be on the table right now, hostage situations, bomb threats, bank robberies, networks being hacked for information, well known people being targeted for assassination. The world was on high alert and for good reasons, they had never been hit like this back to back. It was almost like a last ditch effort to make a push against the world but they were also having trouble getting past Rainbow who shielded and protected everything and everyone they could from the terrorist's. But this is what Rainbow was brought back for, to serve and protect. IQ let a few thoughts linger, she loved her job and her teammates. Monika wouldn't give up her position for anything. This was her perfect area to work in, she could be her best with Rainbow and she was never alone. She rubbed at her tired eyes as she updated her Spectre, it had glitched out on her last deployment and it nearly cost her and Capitao their lives despite the injured ankle she gained from the C4 blast that rocked them. He didn't hold it against her, blaming it on the jammer the terrorist had set up to block them out from Ash and Thermite who had overseen the mission.

Her gaze settled on the crutches resting against the work table beside her as the dull ache in her ankle bit at her as a reminder that her gadget wasn't always reliable but she needed it to be. Never again, I won't let them jam my device again. IQ though to herself as she got back to work once the update finished, she was applying a thicker cover to the device to protect the electronics inside it. It also didn't help she currently had no one else from the GSG 9 to hang out with. Blitz, Glaz, Ace, Ying and Jackal were currently out on a hostage rescue operation somewhere in Florida while Bandit, Warden, Clash, Rook and Castle were out defending a VIP in Greenland that had been under an assassin's scope for a while now. Jager was busy flying teams to and from base, taking small naps in between the trips in his helicopter. She wished she could at least keep the pilot company but she had no flying experience and wouldn't be of any help to him. The door to the workshop suddenly swung open, causing the German woman to glance up from her work. She was greeted by Twitch who held two cups of steaming coffee. The French woman walked over and handed her a cup, earning a quiet thank you and smile. They simply sat in silence for a bit, Emmanuelle could easily find most of the operator's even if they didn't want to be found and could cheer them up within minutes of simply chatting or sitting with them with an offering of snacks and a drink but considering it was still very early in the morning snacks were out of the question. Doc would fuss at them about eating properly and avoid snacking or forcing them to do extra training with Rook and Montagne to work it off. Either way Twitch always waited for the other to speak first, most were glad for that but IQ wasn't sure what to say. She missed her team, all of them. She was out of the rotation for missions and resting for the other's she was sure would happen. "You are worried about them, yes?" Twitch asked with a smile, she had already been fully aware of the reason IQ stayed in certain parts of the base.

The workshop for a legitimate reason this morning and secondary familiarity of having to drag Jager away after over night stays working on his magpie, Bandit from the gym if he couldn't sleep due to nightmares or insomnia, pestering him to go visit Doc and finally Blitz from the training simulations, he was always worried his shield wouldn't go off at the right moment or it wouldn't be able to block everything the enemy had to offer. Monika felt like the big sister of the GSG 9, always worried and looking after them and they very much apricated it, even someone like Bandit. She nodded in reply, "Marius mostly, he hasn't slept a actual bed for almost three day's. He's been napping in his helicopter between transporting equipment and teams to different locations." "He'll be fine, Jager has spent nights in worse places before, besides he loves flying so he's living the dream right now." Emmanuelle chuckled, "Although I'm worried about Rook as well. He just got over a cold and he's back out on the field." "Really? He seemed okay and was his usual hyper self when they left out." "He just doesn't want anyone to worry but he's been in near daily contact with Doc just to make sure he's doing okay. Everyone should be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest." IQ smiled and nodded a bit, taking a much needed sip from her cooling coffee. She couldn't wait for them to get back and for Jager to get proper rest, despite Twitch's words she wouldn't rest either until her family was home safe and in the GSG 9 dorms but thankfully with a small spread of word around base they helped each other pass the time. Monika even got a lift cross the court from Tachanka who was going the same way instead of trying to navigate the busy hallways of the central area of the base. The recruits had been put into over work by some of the operator's around base, wanting to get work done and keep reports, paper work and equipment flowing for their friends out in the field. Tachanka carefully set the injured German down, allowing her to use his arm as support until she got her crutches under her good enough. "All good?" He asked with a smile tugging at his forest camo balaclava. "Ja, thank you for the help Alex." She replied with a grateful smile, earning a gentle pat on her shoulder from the giant man before he disappeared into the building to track down Kapkan over some subject he had been tasked with replying. Monika on the other hand worked her way around to the common room and spent a good few hours there, checking her phone for messages and replied to a few from Blitz and Bandit before getting distracted by a movie Mozzie and Gridlock were watching, enjoying it and laughing along with them until Mira and Twitch came to gather her, wondering if she wanted to come down them to greet everyone back. She nearly jumped at the chance before Mira reminded her of the injured ankle she had much to the German woman's frustration. They eased their way to the landing pad with Doc joining them halfway with his medical bag in tow just incase anyone was injured, he took a moment to inspect Monika's ankle before following them to the landing pad, dreading the injuries their friend's might be sporting. Usually he knew before hand but with the base in such a scramble he didn't have time to answer every call unless it was his personal cellphone only Harry and the other operator's had his number to. Jager's beloved helicopter came into view along the airstrip, swinging it around to land on the helipad with practiced skills. Once the blades died down and stilled the side door slid open as the exhausted operator's filtered out one at a time. Ace turned around after he hopped down to help Ying out, her left shoulder nestled in a sling. No one else seemed injured aside from dirt and grim sticking to them, possibly some scrapes and bruises from their jobs but otherwise they were in good health. Doc preformed a quick and thorough with each other before he escorted Ying to his infirmary with Ace in tow for a mission update on any injuries he tended to in the field. IQ pulled the GSG 9 crew into a large group hug despite protests from Bandit and Jager, both disliking close contact or public affection until Blitz who caged them in from the other side. Her family was finally home and safe, she held back her emotions until they returned to their dorm room. Mainly from the fact that Blitz had given her a piggy back ride all the way while Bandit carried her crutches without a word. His attention on bothering Jager who was trying to stifle yawns from lack of sleep. Once they reached the German dorms she was carefully sat down on her bed while the boy's left to get showers and change into more comfortable clothes. When they returned from the shower room they paused at the door to hearing soft sobbing and sniffling. Blitz shot the other two a look of concern which was promptly returned before he carefully opened the door to inspect the reason behind their teammate's crying. "Mein Freund, was ist los?" (My friend, what's wrong?) Elias asked softly as he knelt down in front of IQ who was hiding her face behind her hands. "It looks like you sprung a leak." He added after a moment, trying to lighten whatever burdened their teammate. He always tried to cheer them up the best he could. "Is everything okay?" Jager asked as he fidgeted with the swing on the front side of his sweat pants. He still had a hard time picking up on social que's but knew the air was a little heavy right now, watching Bandit take a seat beside their friend and gently bump her shoulder with his own. "Ich weiß, du hast uns vermisst, was sollen die Tränen?" (I know you missed us, what's with the tears?) Dominic said in a uncharacteristically soft tone, worry clear in his honey brown eyes. "J-ja... I missed all of you. I'm okay." IQ replied, wiping her tears away and gave them a genuine smile. She had her boy's back, everything was diffidently okay.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 6/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. Attempts at sexual situations. I did mention this was a slow burn, right? Like. Super slow burn.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 6: Softening the Edges

November 2: Saturday

The last time Emma remembers going on a date, it was with Walsh - and while she has a feeling Killian would appreciate the LBD with a leather twist that she still owns, she’d rather not wear something that has a memory of that asshole attached.

All of the other dresses she owns are tight and short, which worked a lot better for picking up one-night-stands. None of those dresses are going to be the right ones, either, which is why they’re all still in the back of her closet.

Instead, she’s looking at the choices hanging in front of her that she unpacked while on the phone with Killian last night. One was an impulse buy from this past spring, and the other two are loaners from Ruby and Snow.

It’s noon, and there are hours to go before the date, but Emma wants this to be perfect so she diligently takes each dress off the hanger, slipping it on and assessing each option carefully before moving on to the next. 

Her timer goes off, letting her know it’s time to retrieve her laundry. Normally, all she wants to do on a Saturday is lounge around, but nerves have her going strong right now. She also wants the loft to be spotless. Just in case she has a visitor tonight, but that’s not something she’s anticipating, so to speak, but it could be. 

The way her stomach flips tells her exactly how big of a deal that actually feels like. 

Instead of dwelling on the hopeful way he invited her in for hot chocolate on Halloween, Emma focuses on her tasks. She switches out the clothes before going back to try on the last two dresses. 

It’s between a black one that Ruby lent her and a pink one she bought online, and it’s not until the latter is on her body that she decides it’s the one. It’s soft and almost fluid, and she takes a moment to turn back and forth to feel the skirts brush against her thighs. She stands in front of her mirror admiring the picture it all makes, so unlike how she dresses for work or even for a night on the town. 

Off it goes and back on the hanger, and Emma makes sure to set out the rest of what she’ll wear, finding the perfect heels to go with it before heading downstairs to clean her bathroom. 

She’s never been one for following a specific routine other than necessities, but Emma goes through her process later when she’s getting ready. It’s maybe the only time she cares about being orderly, stashing all her makeup back away when she’s finished with another whisper to herself that it’s better to be safe.

Killian texted and said he’d be there at six-thirty, and she’s just fixed the backing on her second earring when the knock comes. 

Shaking out her hands one last time, Emma swings open the door for Killian, and immediately all thoughts simple and pure fly out the window. 

Suits and ties, she’s used to. Even the waistcoats. But this look is somehow familiar yet completely new. No thoughts of offices and editors come to mind when she looks at the total picture that the black jeans and leather vest gives off. She's tempted to invite him in now, but she’s hungry and has no intention of turning Killian into one of her really bad statistics. 

Killian, meanwhile, has a look on his face that she’ll be replaying for as long as she lives. His eyes scan her from top to bottom, not in a sexual way but in stunned surprise. And yeah, because he’s used to seeing her in jeans and a leather jacket, she doesn’t blame him for the expression on his face. He finally picks his jaw up off the floor and looks her in the eye again. 

“You look stunning, Swan,” he says, the words slow to come out as he takes in her appearance. Good to know she’s knocked him off balance, as well.

“You look…” she trails off, not even knowing how to sum it up, but he saves her the trouble.

“I know,” he says, a little smug but mostly matter-of-fact. 

Her laugh is a quick exhalation, her lips turning up into a smirk before he holds out a single rose for her. It’s a small gesture, but it’s still better than any other man has done for her on a first date. Really, on any dates at all. 

“Let me pop this in water and we’ll go,” she tells him, moving quickly to the kitchen to find a vase. 

It’s only once outside that she realizes just how cold it is, and she’s glad she wore her wool coat but momentarily regrets the lack of hat. It would’ve ruined her hair but at least her ears would be warm. 

“I hope you weren’t lying about trusting me,” Killian says as he guides her to an SUV that’s idling against the curb. 

“What’s this?”

“Robin let me borrow his vehicle for the evening. He’s been helping me get used to American driving. Might be a different side of the road but I think we’ll be all right.” He opens the door for her and waits until she’s settled before closing it again. When he climbs in and closes his own door he turns to her for a moment. “I also hope a diligent law officer can turn a blind eye for the sake of a date, since I haven’t gotten my license just yet.”

“Knew there had to be a catch,” she jokes, patting his arm comfortingly. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It’s been years since she’s gone to Tony’s, and never has it been with a man she was seeing. The last time she was here, it was with Ruby and Snow because they wanted to dress up and feel fancy for a night while also consuming their combined weight in pasta. 

Killian hastens to pull out her chair for her, smiling as he shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair before settling in across from her. 

“No sad back stories,” Emma says as soon as their waiter walks away. “No prior relationships. Anything else is fair game.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not really. I like you. And I’m scared and excited to be on a date again for the first time in a very long time. And I don’t want to fuck that up by rambling about how shit my luck was before I made it to where I am now.” It takes a lot of effort not to wring her hands together, even as they’re sitting in her lap. No nerves, no tension. Just enjoy a date.

“Fair point. First, let me ask your favorite type of wine,” he says, handing her the menu to consider. 

“Most reds, but not tonight.”

“Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible?” he asks, leaning back and doing something sinful with his eyebrows when he looks at her. He’s tempting… so very tempting.

“No,” she says after a moment to collect herself. “I like first dates. And I’d rather not be all cloudy by the time my dinner arrives.”

His smile turns to something pure and happy. “No wine, then.” He waits until the waiter has taken their orders before speaking again. “What’s your favorite thing about Storybrooke?” 

“That we have actual seasons here. Not like in Florida where it was just hot and humid until it wasn’t, with a smattering of hurricanes.”

“Or England where there’s maybe forty-five days when the sun shines.”

“You get the point on that one,” Emma tells him. “Why did you decide to move here?”

There’s a few emotions that cross Killian’s face all at once, and she knows without needing the explanation. Will did say it was a story for the man himself. “Okay, we’ll save that for another time, too.”

“I was genuinely surprised that a publishing company wanted to set up an office here in Storybrooke,” Emma says, realizing she’s never asked why.

“Robin prefers forests of trees over concrete jungles,” Killian explains. “There is a central office with a lot more people in New York City, but he only goes down when he has to and we utilize a lot of video conferences for everything else.”

“That’s a lot of distance for just some editing and such, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than just that, love. Robin’s looking to start up workshops and clinics for his signed authors. He’s been hosting a fellowship for new authors for a week at a time at a cabin he owns up on the edge of the town as well. If you ask him, this place has a natural fount of creative powers just waiting to be tapped into. That’s kind of how Henry happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was on vacation about a year ago with his parents… well, foster parents. They said as soon as he sat down in the room that he whipped out his pen and paper. By the time they got back from going to grab dinner downstairs at Granny’s, he had just about finished the first chapter. Worked out a deal to buy him a laptop for some chores.”

“That’s amazing. Do they come with him for his meetings with you?”

“Well,” Killian starts, and his face falls. Before the words are out of his mouth, she knows what he’s going to say. “He’s not with that family anymore. That couple did everything they could to try to make up for the fact that they had to move and not take him with them, so he has his own laptop, we communicate with him via an iPod, and he has a suitcase that he protects with his life. But his current situation is... not as ideal.”

Emma swallows hard, a bubble of emotion getting lodged in her throat. “I can imagine how much that must hurt for him.”

“He’s been in higher spirits since his new foster parents started letting him travel on his own. He’s just turned sixteen and he’s fiercely independent, so he loves to take the train from Portland by himself and make his way up the coast for a weekend, even if it’s just a few hours away.” 

“Sometimes even just a few hours can feel like a whole different country.”

“I gather you’ve lived in a few places if that’s the way you feel.”

“I didn’t really live in Boston. But sometimes going down there to visit was like going to the far reaches of the Earth. Tallahassee was too far, when it came down to it, so I’ve mostly lived here in Storybrooke with a few exceptions.”

“Where you’ve followed the family business to be a police officer.”

“Correct. Have a shiny degree with my name on it and everything. It’s just from an online degree program, but…”

She’s surprised when Killian reaches across the table to touch her hand. “Online degrees are just as valid and important as ones earned in person at a university.”

There’s something about the way he says it - Emma is positive that he’s giving the affirmation to both of them - but she pushes past wanting to ask him about it and instead flips her hand around to briefly link her fingers with his. “You’re right. They are. And I’m proud of mine.”

“But you refuse to wear a uniform?”

The urge to shudder crawls up her spine but she controls that, as well. “Hate the things. Way too unflattering, way too uncomfortable. Besides, David decided we didn’t really need them since it’s such a small department. As long as we don’t come in wearing sweatpants, he’s okay with it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, almost immediately. “There was a time when I was younger that I was sure I wouldn’t, but I do now. By the way, Regina approved our budget for upgrades. I’m sitting down on Monday and just going to town online shopping for all the things we need. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get everything we want and still have some left over.”

“That’s fantastic,” he exclaims, looking genuinely happy for her. She’s so unused to this kind of support and attention, but she’s certainly not going to complain. 

When their food arrives, they slow down a little bit but not by much. Back and forth they ask and answer, between bites of food and avoidance of the hard stuff - both in liquor and life experiences. There’s plenty to be talked about there: Emma has a metric ton of shit in her history and she knows she’ll have to talk about it eventually, but eventually isn’t today. By the time they’ve ordered dessert, she’s more relaxed than she’s ever felt on a date before. They only ordered one of the delectable selections, something that’s ice cream and delicious and not the standard tiramisu. As the check arrives, Killian reaches for his wallet and Emma grabs for her purse. At that, his eyebrow pops up.

“I’ve never been on a date with a woman who pulled out her wallet at the end,” he admits. “Would you prefer to split or would it be okay if I paid for the both of us?”

“I’ve never been on a date with a man who asked,” Emma says, gesturing for him to go on as she tucks her handbag away again. “Did you have a choice to work in NYC when you moved here?” Even though they talked about the Storybrooke location earlier, she realizes she never asked him that. 

“No. Robin specifically hired me to be a junior editor in this office.”

“Would you have preferred to work there instead of here?”

“Not at all,” Killian says without even a second of hesitation. The quickness surprises her, just like so much constantly does with him. “I was working in London and living right on the outskirts of the city when I applied for this position. I’d had enough of bustling and tourism and noise. When Robin told me I’d be moving to a town in Maine that had a population of less than ten thousand, it felt like the right move. And now that I’m settling in, I know I’ve made the right choice.”

“I may be biased, but I think you did, too.”

With the bill all settled, they exit the restaurant into the cool night air, with Emma’s hand tangled with Killian’s. She noticed that the patrons all glanced as they came and went, but Emma hopes that she and Killian are yesterday’s news before too long. It’s probably the only downside to this small town that they all feel the need to gossip like wildfire. 

He opens the car door for her again, letting his fingers trail across hers as he releases her hand and sends little shocks of heat along her skin. 

Killian walks her all the way to her door, his thumb gently rubbing against hers as they climb the stairs. She turns when they get to her door, slipping a little bit into his personal space.

“Well, not bad,” she says, reaching down and taking his hand and hook in her hands. “You managed to make me forget that I’ve spent the last three days trying to get oil spots out of my jeans thanks to an unfortunate call to Billy’s shop the other day.”

“That’s an easy, three-step process if you’d like my assistance.”

“In that case, wanna come in for some coffee and stain removal?”

He hums, stepping forward so they’re toe-to-toe, their noses brushing as she’s just at the same height with her heels on. When he speaks, his breath tickles her lips and she frees up her hands in favor of running them up the lapels of his jacket to rest on his shoulders. 

“Aye, but first, I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” he tells her, his voice low and husky and everything she wants to hear right now.

Then his lips are on hers and she’s perfectly fine with not hearing his voice because she’d rather be doing this anyway. Carefully, without breaking the kiss, she inches backwards until she can lean on the door, pulling Killian against her and letting all her thoughts leave for the moment. She doesn’t put out on the first date, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do anything else, right? His grip on her hip feels as tense as she is, and she finally stops so she can get her door unlocked. 

When it swings open, however, her apartment isn’t dark and empty like she left it, and she jolts away from Killian in surprise at Snow propped on her breakfast bar and David standing behind her counter. 

“Hey! We weren’t sure when… oh!”

Clearly, the other couple hadn’t expected Killian to still be attached to Emma when they hatched a plan to come see how it went instead of waiting until the next day. Emma glances at Killian to see the amused smile on his face. She also sees that this is where the train stops tonight, and she sighs. 

“Give us a second,” Emma says to her family as she crowds Killian back into the hallway for some semblance of privacy; she knows how thin her door is. “Do you still want to come in and have coffee? Probably get the concerned-father speech from David?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time for all of that,” he says, definitely not unkindly but there’s a hint of disappointment that this is where their evening ends, and she knows the feeling. 

“Next time, huh? I don’t remember asking.”

“That’s because it’s my turn,” he tells her, his voice light and playful. Just as quickly, he gets a serious look in his eyes and she’s not sure a marching band coming out of her apartment would tear her attention away from him. “Will you go out with me again?”

His eyes are so sincere, his expression hopeful and patient and of course she’s going to go out with him again. She steps forward, deciding that actions are better than words right now, kissing him softly but solidly, making sure it teeters right on the edge of the heat they were producing just a few minutes ago. 

She can’t get over the way he holds her, the way his arms come around her and mold her against his body. That paired with the way he kisses her back, the low rumble he makes when her hand comes up to brush against his cheek before sliding into his hair, she almost gets lost to the sensations all over again, Snow and David be damned. 

With effort, Emma pulls back the tiniest bit, trying to catch her breath more at the way he leans his forehead against hers than the kiss itself at this point. 

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Goodnight Killian.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice sounding equally unsteady. 

She looks back at him one more time, biting her lower lip at the mirrored look on his face. 

“I need to get the locks changed,” she mutters as she opens the door to her apartment again. “So, let’s talk about how you guys broke into my apartment tonight!”

-x-

Listening to Emma re-greet David and Snow makes Killian chuckle for a moment, and he takes a big breath as he settles his blood again. This woman is already so far under his skin that it’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months since they first spoke to one another. 

He has Robin’s car until morning, so it’s a quick, warm drive home. When he steps inside, Killian closes the door and locks it behind him, turning on light after light as he walks through the rooms that he’s inhabited for almost five months. He’s restless, only because he’s already looking forward to the next moment he gets to see Emma, and as his eyes land on various boxes and empty corners, he decides to use this momentum to finish what he started the day before. 

After changing out of his clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Killian retrieves his box cutter from the kitchen from his last unpacking adventure and starts with his office. 

It’s more than past time for him to officially make this place his home.  

-x- November 4: Monday

It takes effort for Killian to crawl out of bed on Monday. It’s probably the first time in as long as he can remember that he doesn’t bounce right out of bed as soon as his eyes are open. That excludes times he’s been sick, of course. He’s only human. But he’s not sick today. He’s tired. Downright exhausted, and with every right to be so. When he finally drags his eyes open, he looks around the room at all he accomplished. Gone are the barren walls and empty hangers. Every single piece of clothing he owns is now tidily put into its place. Trudging through his morning routine, Killian still manages to smile wide when he opens his closet to the wide array of clothes all readily available. 

He’s nearly ready when he hears the horn outside, and he smiles with the knowledge that Emma is out there waiting for him. With careful movements, he pours the two mugs of coffee from his pot and rinses it out, making sure it’s turned off before heading out. 

They’ve got a good deal starting, as far as he can tell. She brings the car, he brings the caffeine, and it’s almost as good as their walks. 

He rushes to the car through the morning chill, happy to at least have his scarf and hat in place. She pushes the door open from her side when she sees he’s laden with coffee mugs pressed against his chest with the help of his left arm.

“Hi! You found some winter weather gear!”

“Aye, finally got around to a lot of things I’ve been meaning to work on,” he tells her as he settles in, shutting the door firmly against a cold blast of wind. “Brought you coffee.”

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing the mug from him and taking a sip. She reaches over, almost without thought and squeezes his wrist to emphasize her words. 

Their banter on the way to his office is as it always is, but when she stops in front of NeverEndings, there’s care in the way she leans towards him. He meets her halfway, sighing into the simplicity of the kiss and wishing he could dawdle and kiss her in her car all day. 

“I have my lunch hour totally free today,” she tells him when they finally do part. “Want me to swing by?”

“I have a meeting with Henry this morning. I’m not quite sure how long it’ll go, but stop in and we’ll see?”

She smiles and nods, waving once as he climbs from the car and shuts the door. 

By the time Emma shows up at noon, he very clearly needs the respite. Henry is looking similarly worn down, obvious by the way the teenager is slumped in his chair, fiddling with a fidget cube that Killian keeps by his monitor for moments of extreme stress. That’s how Emma finds them, with Killian fighting off a yawn as he stares at his computer screen and Henry teetering on death by boredom. 

“Whoa. Are you guys working or just slowly melting into your seats here?”

“I’m melting,” Henry says without moving anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. 

“I’m working,” Killian adds, sitting up and stretching his neck to release the knots that are dying to form along his spine. “Darling, I’ve got just three more pages left on these edits. I’m so sorry. Would you like to stick around until we’ve finished?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

Killian sputters for a second, unsure of how to introduce them in this situation. 

“I’m Emma,” she says, saving him from anything else. “So, Killian tells me you come up for vacations?” After shifting around a couple items, Emma makes herself comfortable by perching on the edge of the desk. 

“I did, back when…” Henry trails off, and Killian can see from this angle that Emma’s face falls into something that borders on understanding. He knows that she was raised by David’s mother, but he also knows that she uses a different surname than the Nolan household, so maybe there’s a kinship that he wasn’t even anticipating between them. 

As they get lost in conversation, Killian desperately wants to keep paying attention, to absorb in the information that she hasn’t yet divulged to him, but the edits call back to him and before he knows it, he’s lost to the words in front of him once more. 

Far longer than he would’ve liked to spend on it, he’s finally at the end of the passage and he saves the file with a noise of victory. 

“Alright, lad. We’ve got it. That’s the whole thing with edits and comments now done.”

“Really?”

“Aye. The next part is all up to you. We’ll get a look at your schedule and set up another meeting in the middle of the month if you think you can handle that.”

The boy scoffs, accepting the folder and thumb drive that Killian hands over to him. “I can practically make these changes with my eyes closed at this point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Safe travels back to the city.”

With a final wave, Henry exits his office and Killian slumps down in his chair, peering around his monitor as Emma relaxes back in the chair that Henry just vacated.

“Thanks for your patience, love. How’s your day going?”

“Better than yours, it seems. I texted Ruby and she’ll have lunch waiting for us. You ready?”

“Would you carry me there?”

Emma laughs, music to his ears, and he hauls himself from his chair, taking her hand when she offers it. 

Killian’s own lunches don’t usually last very long, but he feels he’s earned the right to relax for a little bit since the first round of edits is officially done, and his “quick” morning meeting just went two hours over his proposed time slot for it.

It’s not the end of the job, of course. There will still be more edits after Henry comes back with his changes. But that’s in two weeks, and until that time, Killian can start worrying about everything else with the book. 

Not only are there design aspects to be considered, but they’ll have the company Christmas party in New York next month, which will act as some kind of debut for Henry. It’s the one time every year that all the employees and authors come together. In England, they’ll be hosting their own version of the event, but over here, it’s a chance to celebrate the creativity that’s come out of the whole year and for Robin to announce everything they’ll look forward to in the one to come. 

While he always has an outfit ready for the black tie event, he’ll also be in charge of making sure Henry is taken care of. He’ll have to ask the lad whether he has a suitable outfit. Despite being the editor for such young talent, Killian’s primary anxiety rests over getting everything done and in a timely fashion. He decided after their first meeting that Henry was more mature than a good deal of the grown men and women he’s worked with before, but in the eyes of the world, he’s still a child, and he wants them all to see Henry like he does.

After the party will be the actual book release, and the press for it. And then there’s the worry over its success or failure, of course...

“Hey, Killian.”

“Hmm?”

Emma pulls him down for a quick kiss right on the lips. “You’ve gotta let your brain rest for a couple minutes. Coffee?” 

He looks around, having missed the whole walk over to Granny’s, apparently. He sighs, letting Emma lead them up the path to the diner. “Yes, that would be helpful.”

“I might be wrong, but I feel like you’re freaking out a little bit.”

“You’re not wrong,” he admits to her. “I just want everything to be perfect. He’s so talented, but he’s young. And one wrong step could mean the book goes nowhere.”

“I don’t think you’re going to let that happen,” she says as she sheds her coat and gloves, setting them on the seat on her side of the booth before she slides in. 

Their food and drinks are placed in front of them almost as soon as they’re settled in, and Ruby gives them both a signature smile before she zips away from the table to tend to the rest of the lunch rush. 

“Told you I gave her the heads up,” Emma says, smiling at him and nodding to his food. “Dig in. How long until you have to be back?”

“I have a meeting with Robin at 2:30 to go over our progress from today,” Killian tells her, glancing at his watch and seeing that Emma’s hour is already almost up. “You want to get a box for that?”

“Nah. I already texted David and told him I would be back later than usual.”

“You’re simply a marvel, Swan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling and propping her hand under her chin and getting comfortable with her hot chocolate, clearly settling in for some quality time.

-x-

It’s weird, Emma thinks, to be the source of comfort for someone. But judging by the way Killian relaxes almost as soon as she reassures him that he’s not going to fuck up is a pretty clear indication that he’s taken the words to heart. What’s weirder is that she likes the feeling, a lot, and wants to keep being able to do this for him whenever he needs it. 

“Tell me something new today,” she urges, using the moment to take a bite of her food before he can turn it around on her. She watches carefully as he gulps, clearly already knowing what he wants to say but maybe afraid to speak the words.

“Promise you won’t let it scare you off?”

“I can try,” she says honestly, but there’s no fear sparking in her stomach, no panic in her lungs. 

“Seeing you for the first time was the moment I finally felt like I was really here - that I’d really moved to a whole new country and started a brand new job. Your hair was down. It caught the sunlight first, and then your badge did. I couldn’t get over how you looked ethereal and yet so solidly real, and you were staring at me as if you were waiting for me.”

It’s her turn to swallow hard, hearing his admission, and knowing that the day he first saw her, she was waiting for him. 

“Wow,” she finally manages. She picks at her forgotten food, the blush rising to her cheeks and the smile unable to be contained. 

“I’ve been told I could write romance novels,” he says, and it’s the seriousness of his tone mixed with the smile in his eyes that finally makes Emma grin as it calms her nerves.

“I’d buy them,” she admits.

“I could write about a hapless Brit learning all about American culture from some blonde goddess in a red leather jacket.”

“And what adventures would they go on, Killian?”

“Epic battles, Swan. They couldn’t have just any boring old story. They would need action, fighting to find each other after being separated, and when it’s all said and done they would share True Love’s Kiss and she would turn him into a frog.” She is so obviously distracted by the way his hand has reached across the table and his fingers are rubbing over her knuckles, the deep timbre of his voice, that she almost misses the last part, but she hears it, and she chortles at the picture he’s painted. 

She takes a deep breath, prepared to share something of her own. “I didn’t want to date you,” she admits. It’s like an anvil dropped in the middle of the table but if he just admitted all of that to her, maybe she can meet him halfway.

His face falls, and she hurries to continue.

“Not like that,” she says reassuringly, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize. “I had this idea that you would just be this stranger I passed on the street every day and that would be enough. And then we started talking and I thought - okay, this is cool. We can be friends.” She laughs even thinking of it, at the sheer absurdity that she was so sure there would be nothing between them.

“You started it,” he says. “You kissed me first.”

“Yeah? So let’s talk about setting up that second date.”

“Well, I’ve finally finished moving into my flat, so I think it would be nice to have someone over to see it without towers of boxes invading each room.”

“I think that sounds like a good plan.”

There’s a thought that flashes through her mind that adds together one part Killian, one part dinner, one part alone, and it takes her a moment to pull her mind from the gutter once more. Especially when she thinks of how they were interrupted before he could come inside after their first date. 

But more than for anything like that, Emma thinks about how nice it’ll be to have something closer to a quiet night - there won’t be any townspeople staring at them and taking notes to pass around to all their friends. No one will take notice of them leaving and speculate about what’s about to happen next. Plus, the idea of Killian cooking is quite appealing. 

“Saturday?” she asks before they part ways after lunch is over.

“Saturday sounds perfect,” he reassures her. And while she’s already excited for it, she also knows they have a whole week of little moments like this to look forward to. 

-x-

Chapter 7

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 2)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 

Warnings: (throughout the fic -->) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo... Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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

“So, I got a job offer,” you started as you picked at your meatloaf.

“A job offer?” Spence questioned from across the table. “I had no idea you were even looking. What about the BAU? What about being together? You and I agreed this was the only way to ensure the other person is safe--”

You held up a hand to stop his onslaught. “I’m not leaving the BAU, and I wasn’t looking for a job. This just sort of fell into my lap.” 

“Is this what Emily wanted to talk about today?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s a teaching position.”

“Teaching? I never knew you were interested in that.”

You shook your head. “I’m not. Well. I wasn’t.” 

Spencer and you had been married for eight years. You fell in love quickly when you came to work for the BAU. When you met him, it was like stars shone for the first time in a dark sky for you. He was unlike any man you’d ever met, thankfully. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and slightly awkward. Almost as if he was made for you. When the two of you met, it was a meeting of the minds. He saw you as his equal, and he was yours. You might not have the IQ of a genius, or read as quickly, but you deduced things faster than anyone else on the team. At first, you were worried he wouldn’t be impressed by you or see you as a peer, seeing as he’s a genius. But that fear quickly fell to the wayside when you realized you had quite a lot in common, especially books and chess. You two bonded over Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as the nerdier side of things such as Star Wars and Star Trek. 

Even though you were the greatest of friends, spending all your time together, it still surprised you when he asked you out to dinner. Apparently to everyone else on the team, it wasn’t a surprise, as Spence had confided his feelings long ago to them and they encouraged him to ask you out. 

After a year of dating, he asked you to marry him. There wasn’t one thing you didn’t love about this man. He was everything you could ever ask for in a husband and more. You two had shared your ups and downs. Dealing with his mother, him going to prison falsely, you working on a book, somewhat like Rossi. It’s all been a lot of strain for a marriage that was just beginning. But each day, you wake up looking at him with more love than before. 

“So what is it, exactly?”

“University of Miami. They’re opening a new course and want me to teach in the Spring.” 

“And you think you might want to do this?”

You shrugged slightly. “I think… I think I’d like a break from the BAU.”

He frowned at you, concern coloring his face. “Is this because of the trial?”

“Ten, Spence,” you reminded in a calm, sad voice. “Ten cases that we solved, that we arrested the bastard and for what? So some hotshot defense attorney could get them off? To paint them sympathetically? To put that seed of doubt in the jury’s head. These are ten people who have just… just walked! They’re out on the streets. I know we like to live in this world where once we capture the bad guy it’s over but the reality is these people aren’t serving time. Justice isn’t being done. After today I just… I need a break from it all. Maybe teaching some people will help remind me why I wanted to do this in the first place.” 

“We do this because even if they don’t get sentenced they’re off the streets and less people are in danger for the time they’re jailed.”

“And what about after they get off? Hmm? What then? They just learn to be craftier, sneaker, erase their trail? Do they go overseas to torment other countries? A few months isn’t good enough, Spence. Not any more. Alan Rochester is out, hell he could be hunting us down for all we know.”

He said nothing. He knew it was true. Both of you knew the dangers you lived in from the possibility of criminals getting out to hunt you or the others on the team down. 

“I know it’s scary. I know it’s tough but just… leaving the BAU to do this…” 

“I’m not leaving, Spence. It’ll be temporary. It’s a needed break.”

“But it’s a break from me, from us. I won’t see you for almost six months.”

“I know that. We can meet on spring break though and I can fly up at least once a month to come see you on the weekends… we can video chat…. I just really think I need this sort of mental break from catching bad guys that might end up being for nothing.” 

“Are you sure this is really what you want? If it is, I’ll support if. Or we could go away on vacation, perhaps?”

You shook your head. “I’m not sure a two week vacation would be long enough, and with our luck we’d be called back after three days.”

A look of powerlessness fell over his face as he slumped slightly in his chair. “I’m just going to miss you, that’s all. We’ve never been without each other. Even before we dated, we always stayed in the same hotel room and now… now you want to leave for five months to a different job in a different state.”

“It’s not like that, sweetie. I just need the break. You teach here. I’d like to give it a go and see if it’ll help me regain some sanity.” 

He bobbed his head, understanding. “I get it. Alright. If you think it’ll help, I’m all for it.”

“Thank you.” 

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

Over the course of the next month, Spencer helped you devise a school plan, a curriculum to which you could go by. You told him everything you wanted to cover, and a book you thought the students might enjoy. You tried to remember professors from college and the way they taught so that you could incorporate that into your lectures. This was daunting to say the least. 

On your last day at the office, everyone was in tears. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Garcia stated as she walked over to you as soon as you and Spence showed up. 

“It’s not forever,” you reminded with a slight laugh. “Nothing to cry over.” 

“What do you mean nothing to cry over? You’re going to be gone and Lord knows how well Reid here is going to take it.” 

You chuckled. “Spencer will be fine in my absence. So will you. All of you will.” 

“But you crack about half of our cases. Without you…”

“I’m still available for calls during certain parts of the day and all hours of the night. Emily knows this.” 

“Yeah but--”

“But nothing, Garcia. This is okay.” 

She peered at you unsure, but then she nodded, walking into the office with you and Spence. 

“Hey, you ready for this?” Tara asked as she stepped forward, putting her hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m pretty excited to be honest.” 

“That’s good. We’re going to miss you though.” 

“I know. I’ll miss all of you. I’ll be back over spring break and I’ll try to fly up on the weekends,” you informed Tara, Luke, and Matt. 

“You better, or we’ll come kidnap you,” Luke joked, slightly punching your arm, making you laugh. 

“Is that our new professor?” Rossi asked from behind you.

You grinned, blushing slightly before turning. 

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, kid, I know it,” he assured as he walked up. “And we all pitched in to get you this,” he stated as he handed you a wrapped gift. 

A grin popped onto your face as you took it. “What is this?”

“Open it up and find out,” Rossi encouraged with a coy grin making you chuckle lightly. 

You tore into the paper, opening the box, to discover a clear glass apple inside with the words “To your first day of class, Professor Reid,” etched on it.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you laughed. “This is great. Really great. Thank you!”

Before you could get too cozy or caught up in goodbyes, Emily called you all in the conference room for a case. The team had to start a local case, and you helped out all day while you could, but then you had to get home to finish up packing, and get sleep for your early flight. 

You had packed three big suitcases full of the essentials, you would spend the first week down in Miami in a hotel, looking for an apartment in the meantime. Once you found an apartment, Spence agreed to send down the boxes of clothes that you had already put together. 

On your way out of the door though at the office, an agent stopped you, one you had seen a handful of times before. “Dr. Reid?” he addressed, looking at you. 

“Yes?” 

“Could you come with me?” 

You peered at Spence with a curious look before nodding. “Sure. Can my husband come?”

“I believe so.” He took off and you two began walking beside him. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. The director merely wants to see you before you leave for Florida.”

You nodded, keeping with his pace. He led you two to the director’s office, and opened the door for you, announcing your arrival. The two of you stepped over the threshold and the agent closed the door behind him, leaving only you, Spence, and the director.

“Ah, Dr. Reid, I’m so glad we caught you before you left,” she stated, smiling at you. 

“Is everything alright?” you questioned, slightly worried.

“Oh, of course, of course. I brought you in because I hear you will be working down in the University of Miami?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Well, we have a case I’d like you to look at while you’re down there. Several, actually.” 

She lifted a box off the floor and put it on top of her desk, lifting the lid off of it, exposing a full box of files. 

“These are missing persons that have been going on for a few years.”

You picked up the top file and flipped through it. “Cold cases?”

“Yes, for the most part. Most of them have been in jail, prison, or suspected of illegal activity, never to be seen or heard from again.” 

“Not typical related crimes, such as a gang offing or…?”

“I want to believe that, but this is a high rate of missing people in these sort of circles compared to other cities in Florida.” 

“So why don’t you have the Florida division investigate?” you wondered, peering up at her. 

“We did. They didn’t have much of a lead or much to go on.” 

“What makes you think I will?” 

“You’re the brightest agent we have. You’ll be in the terrain. While you’re down there, we would appreciate it if you worked this case on the side. You have full range to question people. This is a real investigation, it’s not under the radar. Feel free to use whatever resources you need.”

“This… this is a lot to take on,” you commented. “I mean, by myself, that’s just... “

“I’m sure you can do it. If you need to consult your current team, feel free to do so.”

You slowly nodded. “Alright. Thank you. I’ll do my best.” 

She smiled a dazzling grin at you and shook your hand. “Thank you, thank you very much. Check back in by the end of the month, if you don’t mind.”

“I will.”

“Thanks. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you, I’ll try.”

With that, you grabbed the box and left her office, your husband beside you. 

“So now you’re doing a case, several, all by yourself,” Spence noted. 

You let out a huff. “I guess so.” 

“This is going to be a lot. Teaching, grading, doing this case.”

You nodded. “I know, but I can handle it.” 

He grinned at you and kissed your forehead. “I know you can. I just… I’m just worried. This was supposed to be a break and now--”

“Spence, it’ll be fine. This sort of case won’t piss me off. There’s no one who is going to ‘get away’.” 

With a nod, you two exited the elevators and went home. 

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

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[sabraeal]

Happiness Is Just Around the Corner

The Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Written for @bubblesthemonsterartist for her birthday! This was...not the fic I thought I’d be writing, but this is where this subplot needed to start >:3c

There is an improbable amount of fireworks on the lawn.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure none of it’s legal,” Kiki assures him, taking a long drag of her Sam’s Summer. “Shiira took his ducklings up to New Hampshire yesterday, and they came back with two coolers worth of...something.”

Zen coughs on the dregs of his Magic Hat. “What? Should we even--?”

Kiki’s flat stare is more effective than a hand over his mouth. “You really think we’ll get in trouble.”

His gut instinct is yes, because there’s not a day in his life where his brother hasn’t caught him with his pants down just to prove a point. It would be just like him to send a cruiser around so that he could experience the heart-stopping terror of being on the other side of a two-way mirror. Sure, Haruka would be down at the station before he could even ask for a phone call, and all of this would slide off his permanent record like water off a duck’s back, but still-- trouble.

But he doesn’t say that. He takes a deep breath, thinks. It’s quiet here on campus. They’re rowdy, sure, but it’s just the frat there, not some rager with Omega Delta Nu. The campus cops are probably bored out of their skulls, but they’re not going to nail the honor’s frat for a light show.

“No,” he admits, begrudgingly. “Not unless they light something on fire.”

Her mouth twitches, following the spark in her eyes. “Well, there’s a non-zero chance of that.”

Ugh, of course Kiki would be excited by the prospect. “Well, as long as we don’t get--” Obi crosses the lawn, aviators looming over a wide smile, and hovers just at Shiira’s shoulder, perusing the goods. “UH.”

“Fuck.” Kiki hops off the porch, straight down into the landscaping. “I’ll handle this.”

Zen settles back against the porch swing and sighs, taking another swig of Magic Hat. “Yeah, please do.”

Kiki’s already halfway across the lawn by the time he’s finished talking, so quick that when Obi picks up a particularly patriotic package of pyrotechnics, she’s there to snatch it out of his hands. Even from here, Zen can see the jut of his pout, hear the faint whine of Ms Kiki on the air.

Mitsuhide’s lighting up the grill, surrounded by a crowd convinced cooking works by consensus. He takes a handkerchief out of his back pocket-- stars and stripes, stuffed there early this morning as Obi solemnly announced, you are America’s hat today, big guy-- and wipes the sweat beading on his forehead. Zen can’t tell whether it’s from the heat or from the effort needed to withstand six guys offering advice on proper grilling technique.

A cool breeze tumbles through the porch, carrying the muted voices of a dozen conversations. Zen closes his eyes, letting the smell of smoke and the heat of the day wash over him, the swing rocking gently on its chains.

It’s nice, having all this. People he can anticipate. People he can depend on. Friends. The real kind, not just kids whose parents went to the same prep school as his.

This isn’t where he’s supposed to be.

A year ago that would have sent him scrambling-- last minute tickets and crumpled up itineraries paired with the crushing guilt of never being enough. But now--

Now he knows this is where he wants to be. And there’s only one person to thank for that.

“Hey.” His eyes slit open, and there she is, brilliant smile and bright hair, peeping around the post. “Enjoying yourself?”

Zen drops his legs from the rail to make room. “I am now.”

Shirayuki’s mouth slants, playfully wry, and his heart strains against his sternum like a dog testing its leash. “It looked like you were before too.”

“Well, sure.” He wishes he had Obi’s obnoxious aviators right now, if only so she couldn’t see the eager way he watches her as she comes up, tucking herself neatly onto the opposite end of the swing. “But even more now that you’re around.”

Freckles disappear behind a bloom of pink, settling in on either cheek.  “Ah, w-well,” she stammers, staring at her bare toes. “It’s good to know you don’t regret staying here.”

“Instead of being with my family?” He laughs, incredulous, draping his arm over the back of the swing. His fingers just barely brush the freckles on her shoulder. “More like I’m thankful for the excuse.”

Her smile dims. “Oh, um, right. You and Izana...”

She hesitates. There’s a wealth of ways she could end that thought, but instead she says, “It must be nice. I mean, the place your family has, not...”

The fraught relationship you have with your brother. She doesn’t have to say it for him to know exactly what she means.

“It’s all right, I guess,” he allows, wishing she’d sit closer, that she’d give him a good reason to put his arm around her for real, and not just let him awkwardly hang here. “I mean, it’s just a house. The beach is nice though. Private, of course.”

That doesn’t stop his mother from inviting the paparazzi if she thinks it will make a good photo op. Last year he’d made the cover of the Inquirer, face scrunched and unattractive as Izana has splashed sea water in his face, with the words Final Frolic for World’s Most Eligible Bachelor? There had been a two-page spread inside, dedicated entirely to the relationship rumors Izana had accrued since Valentine’s Day.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about that this year. No paparazzo was going to stake out a college frat to take pictures of an illegal fireworks show. Now Haki could deal with having her picture slapped across the tabloids because mother thought candid shots made for better family photos.

“Ah, right...” Her laugh stutters out, awkward and endearing. “That sounds...good?”

Shirayuki’s still next to him, the heat from her skin humid against his fingertips, but she’s never felt so far. He grunts, frustrated, shifting closer.

“There’s an old carousel on the island too,” he offers, haltingly. He’s not sure why the impulse takes him to tell her; why he thinks she, specifically, might like it, save that when he looks at her it’s the same as when he saw those hand-carved horses the first time, well-loved and shining beneath antique lights.

“Oh!” She blinks. “My grandparents took me to one of those, once! Back when we visited...”

Her mouth works silently for a moment before pulling tight, the bittersweet twist making her smile more grimace than grin.

“Well, you’d love this one,” he assures her, sweat pricking at his palms. “It’s the oldest in the US. But it’s still really nice! I’ll take you next--”

His words slam to a stop, running headlong into the barrier of his teeth. She’s staring at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted, and-- and what can he say? I’ll take you next year, when my brother suddenly approves of you.

Yeah, he knows better than to hold his breath for that.

“I’m glad, anyway.” She folds her legs up on the swing, one arm hooked around her knees, and tilts her head back. “It’s nice for all of us to be here, together.”

Her eyes are closed, face serene in the evening light, like she could just sit here forever, breathing into the twilight. His heart flutters just looking at her, at the way she relaxes next to him, content with the slow rock he eases them into. No one can just be the way Shirayuki can.

“It is,” he agrees softly, because anything but a whisper might break this moment, might let the rest of the world in. “It’s going to be weird when you...”

He tries to stop himself, but her eyes fly open before he can. Of course, the one moment he’s gotten her to himself, and he’s gone and ruined it by bringing that up.

“I just mean...” He laughs, tipping his head back on scroll of wood behind his head. “It’s going to be strange when you and Obi are gone next year.”

A month from now, really. It looms over him, a ticking clock that chimes every evening, telling him he’s wasted another day if it wasn’t with her.

“Oh!” Her head snaps upright, cheeks flushed. “I-- I guess. I didn’t really think...” She bites her lip; he wants to kiss it. “Mitsuhide won’t be here either!”

He blinks. It’s true, but he’s never actually thought about that. Mitsuhide has always been in the house, it seems, never the president but a calming influence just to the side of him, and now--

Well, it’ll just be him and Kiki next year. And the rest of the frat, of course, plus all the new pledges.

Still, the future is distinctly more lonely than he’d like.

“He’ll be close, though,” he says, if only to hear the words out loud. “Harvard is a bit of a drive from here, but now that him and Kiki are, you know...”

Banging. That’s what he means to say at least, what he would say if he didn’t, last minute, remember who he was talking to. The last thing he needs is to get a scolding about taking feelings seriously and supporting their friends. Especially when he’d rather be talking about another relationship entirely.

“...Together,” he settles on, and she hums, approving.

“I’m glad that happened.” She rests her chin on her knees, surveying the lawn. Kiki’s abandoned the fireworks committee, instead shooing away the flock of fraters that have congregated around the grill. “They’re good for each other.”

“Made for each other,” he agrees, tickling her shoulder with his thumb. She squirms, a giggle bubbling out from her lips. “Just like...”

Us. He wants to say it, so bad it’s almost an ache, but-- it’s not fair. Not when they’re not really anything, when they can’t be anything, because--

I don’t know if being with me like…like that will be…good for you. I don’t think either of us are ready for that sort of…of attention.

-- Because everything about his life makes things complicated.

“I’m...happy for them,” he says, because he is, because there’s no two people in the world who deserve every bit of goodness they can wring from life more than they do. Even if that leaves him on the outside, again.

“Me too.” Shirayuki smiles, soft and fond, and it’s impossible to believe it’s barely been ten months since he met her, that she isn’t someone he’s known his whole life, not when she just slips seamlessly into every part.

Her hand reaches out, taking his, cool in the evening breeze. “I’ll miss you too.”

His breath catches in his chest, painful. Maybe she feels so familiar because he’s been waiting for her his whole life, too.

“I-I mean, all of you, of course,” she stammers, pink flooding her cheeks, and oh, he wishes he could just lean over now and kiss her, like he was some normal boy with a normal crush and normal expectations of privacy. “I’m excited to go, but...it won’t be the same without everyone.”

Good. He smothers a grin. This whole trip is a great opportunity for her, he knows that-- how could he not, when Izana keeps reminding him about the connections she’ll make-- but--

Two years seems excessive. After a year, she’ll realize that too. And then she can come back for senior year, live in the frat, graduate, spend the summer with him in the Vineyard, and--

“We should do something together,” she says, fingers knotted around his, shoulders rounded shyly.

“Yes!” he blurts out, squeezing way too hard. “Definitely”

“All of us!”

“Ah...” That wasn’t what he thought she was going for. “I mean...”

“One last big adventure.” Her lips spread giddily. “Just the five of us. For now, of course,” she adds, “we’ll be coming back.”

“Oh, ah...” He blinks, staring down at where her hands are tangled with his. She has little over a month left here, and what he really wants is to be doing this, this whole...being together thing, but--

But it’s not like this is going anywhere either. Two years is a long time, but they’ll be sitting here just like this when she gets back. Well-- with more kissing, he hopes.

He can wait. He’s not the only one who will miss her. “Yeah, that sounds...nice.”

His eyes flick up, catching her just as she sinks teeth into the soft pillow of her lip, leaving a dent that begs to be soothed. Zen swallows, hard.

Well, a friendly getaway will have its opportunities for some, ah, private time too. He just has to create them.

“I was thinking,” he starts, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair, trying to be, you know, casual. “What if we--?”

“Hey.” Kiki perches herself across from them with a deftness that says she’s been hanging out with Obi too much. “Burgers are off the grill.”

“Great,” Zen grits out with a glare. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

Kiki hums, brow raising dubiously. “What are you two up to out here?”

“Nothing.” He glowers at her, wishing she would just take a hint. “Just talking.”

“Ah.” Her mouth twitches. “I see.”

“We were just talking about taking a trip!” Shirayuki blurts out excitedly, red-faced and glowing. “All of us! One last adventure before me and Obi go to Lyrias.”

Kiki blinks at that, cocking her head. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know.” A giggle burst nervously from her as she smooths the hem of her shorts over her thighs. “We hadn’t really gotten that far.”

All right, it’s time to drag this conversation back on track. Zen clears his throat. “Kiki, doesn’t your dad have that house in the Berkshires? We could go for a weekend, maybe take in the--”

“Why? We’re already in western Mass. What will a forty minute drive get us?” She wrinkles her nose. “It isn’t even peak foliage season.”

Privacy, he wants to say, but he knows how poorly that idea would fly with her. For someone who always seems to find time to be alone with her boytoy, Kiki’s awfully invested in seeing that he never has any with his girl...thing.

“Hm, I wasn’t really think a trip-trip either,” Shirayuki admits, crushing his dreams of a nice afternoon alone in a hammock, just the two of them and their bathing suits. “But something like an, ah...activity. Like an amusement park.” She perks. “Do you have something like that out here?”

“Six Flags!” he blurts out before he can even consider what he’s saying. “It’s only a half hour away, and the coasters are supposed to be some of the best. I mean, if you, ah, like that sort of thing.”

Which he doesn’t, but there’s really no need to mention that. Not when she lights up like she does, hands clapping together over her heart.

“That sounds perfect! I’ve never been to one of those.” She leans in, conspiratorial. “Opa always got vertigo on the Turkish Twist.”

He may not know what that thing is, but it sounds gut-wrenching enough to keep in head in the trash for a good ten minutes. Zen plasters a smile on his face, steadfastly ignoring the arch look Kiki gives him-- god, that’s the last thing he needs, Kiki deciding it would be funny to tell the story of when they rode the Tower of Terror in middle school-- and says, “I’ll go on any ride you want.”

Kiki makes an unearthly noise, somewhere between a cough and a choke, and he braces for it, for the you know, Zen can tell you the location of every trashcan in Hollywood Studios--

“When were you thinking?” she says instead, mouth just barely twitching at the corner. “It’s going to be busy this weekend.”

“Oh!” Shirayuki’s eyes round, matching the curve of her mouth. “I didn’t think of that. It doesn’t have to be right now. Maybe in another...week? Or so?”

Kiki whips out her phone, flicking through with one finger. “How about...the seventeenth?”

“Ah...” Shirayuki squints, eyes rolling upward like her brain is an open book she can skim for answers. “Y-yes. I think that’s all right.”

Zen stares. “Did you just...pick a random date?”

“No.” Kiki clicks her screen off, slipping it back into her pocket. “This weekend will still have traffic from the fourth. Next week we’re supposed to submit our paperwork to the student affairs office for this semester, and I know you haven’t started. I don’t want to go during a weekend rush, and Thursday is far into the week where if we have any last second problems with student affairs, we won’t have to reschedule.” She holds out a hand, ta-da. “The seventeenth.”

It’s not fair how she can just...do all that. “W-well, all right. But we still have to make sure that Obi and Mitsuhide--”

“Hey, Obi,” Kiki calls out, catching his attention as he cuts across the lawn toward them. “What are you doing on July seventeenth?”

In full sunlight, in the view of every member of the frat, Obi stumbles over absolutely nothing. “W-what?”

“July seventeenth.” she repeats archly as he slinks up beside her, arms resting on the rail. “Are you doing anything.”

When he thinks of Obi at rest, he thinks of languid limbs, of a frustratingly canted smile and glittering eyes, but--

He’s not any of that now. His troublesome mouth lays in a tense line, the corners of his eyes creased and wary. “Why?”

“We want to go somewhere, all five of us,” Shirayuki informs him giddily, mouth stretching from ear to hear. “And Zen suggested Six Flags--”

“Oh no.” He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “No way. Hard pass. I don’t do amusement parks.”

Kiki arches a brow, unimpressed. “Is that so.”

“Yeah.” He tosses his head, mouth straining towards casual derision and falling short. “Not my scene.”

“Oh really.” The mild look Kiki levels at him had leveled lesser men, but Obi only flinches. “Too cool for them, huh?”

His shoulders twitch. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Ohh,” Zen grins, enjoying the way Obi squirms like a cat with his head caught in a fence. “So you mean that’s not really the reason? You have some other secret, terrible Bugs Bunny trauma in your past, maybe?”

“Well, I have to tell you,” Obi says loftily, “I’ve never really cared for Yosemite Sam.”

Shirayuki frowns. “We really don’t have to--”

“I think we all know this is just to obscure your Lola Bunny fetish,” Kiki deadpans.

“Excuse me?” Obi presses a hand to his chest, aghast. “Space Jam is a formative experience. To say any of us don’t owe Lola Bunny--”

“Hey.” Mitsuhide hops up the steps, wiping the sweat pouring down his neck. Zen valiantly doesn’t notice how Kiki stares. “The burgers have been done for a bit. What’s keeping all of you?”

“Obi is allergic to fun,” Kiki informs him, earning a shocked gasp from Obi.

“That’s not it!” he protests. “You just want to go to Six Flags--”

“Oh, Six Flags!” Mitsuhide’s mouth break into a guileless grin. “I love amusement parks.”

Obi stares, jaw slack. “Big Guy, don’t do this to me...”

Zen grins. “I dunno, Obi. Looks like you’re outvoted.”

Shirayuki shifts beside him, wringing her hands. “Oh no, I don’t think-- if Obi doesn’t want to go, we can just pick--”

“Nah.” Obi waves her off, one hand clasping at his shoulder. “You guys can do what you want. I’ll just sit this one out.”

“Obi--”

“I better check in on Shiira,” he says, stilted. “Don’t want them blowing up the front forty by accident.”

Shirayuki half stands, but it’s too late, he’s already sauntering away, laughing at he calls out to the brothers on the lawn.

“Don’t worry, Shirayuki.” Mitsuhide assures her with a clap on her shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

“I...” Zen watches the way her mouth sets, too knowing, a grim white line cutting through the flush of her face. “I don’t know about that.”

[sambergscott]

i'll be with you wherever you are

i actually managed to finish a fic!!! suck it writer’s block!!!! 

also thank u to emma for letting me use baby maya, love u!!! 💖💝💗💕💘💓💞

It’s been a long week without him. There’s been lots of tears (from both mama and baby), sleepless nights and pointing up at the sky everytime an airplane passes over the city, asking if it’s dada coming home. Thank God for FaceTime, but even regular FaceTime calls do not suffice when all the two year old wants is to cuddle her daddy.

She doesn’t know how single or separated parents cope.

It’s killing Jake too, she knows from their private FaceTime calls after she’s finally managed to get Maya down to sleep. This is the longest he’s ever been away from their daughter -- and the longest he’s been away from Amy since he was stuck in that Safe House with Kevin -- and it sucks. He’s in California for a family funeral with Karen and he would’ve flown back by now if he didn’t have to stay to support his emotional, grieving mother.

“I feel like a crappy wife because I’m not there with you,” she confesses during one of their calls, tears threatening to spill over for the hundredth time since she had to make the difficult decision to stay at home. She’s almost 34 weeks pregnant with their second and it was touch-and-go whether the airline would let her fly across the country. They concluded that it would be safer for her to just stay at home with Maya. It’s not like funerals are not the best place for two year olds either, but still. She feels guilty as hell.

“Ames,” his voice softens, “we talked about this. It’s not your fault. You’re pregnant. You couldn’t get here.”

“But your aunt died. I could’ve bribed the airline, got special permission from the doctor, done something --.”

“You sent flowers and have called and texted constantly to make sure I’m OK. You’ve done plenty, babe. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Besides,” he says, “if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine for knocking you up.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Way to take the romance out of it, Peralta.”

“I put the Whomping Willow in your Chamber of Secrets?”

“Worse.”

“Fine, we created a new, beautiful life through our love making.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Charles,” she responds sarcastically. Although she is in complete agreement that their next child will be beautiful (just like their big sister), she disputes his original point that he was the one to get her pregnant. They both wanted another one. The re-appearance of Four Drink Amy after he ordered Kamikaze shots may have just extradited the process.

A familiar cry coming through the baby monitor cuts their conversation short.

“I’ll be home in two days,” he reminds her.

“Two days, seven hours and eleven minutes. Not that I’m counting or anything,” she adds, her cheeks burning.

“You’re seriously the best wife ever. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she whispers. She has just enough time to send Karen her best wishes and lower the phone to her belly so he can say goodnight to Bump before Maya’s cries get even louder and she really has to go.

(btw, he texts her as she soothes their baby girl, my dad -- a legit crappy spouse -- hasn’t even texted my mom once. me and maya and baby #2 are so lucky to have you. 💖💝💗💕💘💓💞)

(She’s so touched that she doesn’t even correct his grammar).

The following two days, seven hours and eleven minutes feel like a lifetime. In reality, it’s nothing compared to his stints in Florida and South Carolina where she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again, but it’s long enough. She lets out an audible sigh of relief when she gets the text that they’ve landed and are through security.

“Dada’s nearly home,” she updates a cranky Maya in the backseat of their Accord, sending Jake a quick description of where they’re parked. Motherhood has really honed her multi-tasking capabilities. “Are you excited about seeing dada?”

“Dada?” She looks around hopefully for him. Her face crumples when she realises he’s still MIA. To Amy, “Where dada?”

“He’s coming, baby. He’s coming.”

She turns up the Disney playlist they’d been listening to on the drive to the airport (it’s basically all they listen to these days), effectively distracting her for a couple of minutes.

She’s so busy singing to Moana that she doesn’t notice Jake approach until he taps at her window.

“DADA!” She squeals, desperately trying to reach for him through the glass.

He laughs, opening the door, expertly undoing her safety harnesses and pulling her into his arms as quick as he can. “I’ve missed you too, Maya-Moo,” he says, grinning at Amy like he did the first time he said it back when she was one month old and proclaimed that he was basically Shakespeare. Two years in, he’s still saying it constantly. Amy would find it annoying if it wasn’t so damn cute.

She climbs out the car (a task that is becoming increasingly difficult as her baby grows from an apple to an eggplant to a butternut squash) and hugs Karen, who can’t help but notice Amy’s longing glances in Jake’s direction.

“Go join them,” she instructs, nodding at the adorable father-daughter moment happening in the middle of the airport car park.

Karen lets her go and Amy takes a few steps towards them. She taps Jake on the shoulder. “Room for one more?”

“Always,” he responds, kissing her gently before wrapping his arms around his three favourite people. “I missed you guys so much. I’m never leaving ever again.”

“Please don’t,” she murmurs into his chest, closing her eyes and cherishing the warmth of his embrace.

She’s forced back to reality when a large SUV honks their horn at them to move out the empty parking space and holds her hand up in apology as she puts Maya back in her car seat while Jake loads the bags into the trunk.

“Let’s go home,” he declares once everyone is ready.

He drops his hand to her thigh and keeps it there the entire drive home, simultaneously making funny faces at Maya in the rearview mirror. The sound of the two year old’s laughter is the best soundtrack to any drive Amy’s ever had. She’s so glad he’s home.

[cilldaracailin]

Don’t Stop Me Now

Hello all my lovely Tumblr’s. Here is the next part to this story. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for the likes on the previous part and the comments too.

2

“To conquer frustration, one must remain intensely focused on the outcome, not the obstacles.”

“I just cannot say sorry enough Taron. I really can’t.”

“Robyn it is ok.”

“No Taron it really isn’t. I just cannot explain to you how much I was looking forward to it and that is the God’s honest truth. I have my bloody case out and packed ready to go too.”

“Robyn, I swear it is ok. I understand.”

“And the dress.” Robyn stared at the dress Stella had sent back to her house three days after she had tried it on with a note that said ‘you’ll knock him dead’ attached. Robyn had hung it on the closer door ready to take on the plane with her on Saturday.

“It’s just a dress chicken. You can still wear it when you get home from your training on Saturday and walk around your sitting room and sit in my corner with cwtch.”

“Taron…”

“Robyn, please don’t say it again. I understand that sometimes these things happen.”

Robyn had been sitting at her desk in work on Wednesday when an email came into her work account for a training course that was happening for all management within her catchment area by the local childcare committee on the weekend of Elton’s charity auction. Compulsory training. Robyn had rang the committee to ask about the training and complain about the short notice but had no choice but to accept the fact that it was training that was now part of the childcare regulations and all management staff within each centre had to attend and their centres training was the coming Saturday. Robyn had asked if the training was available on another day but it wasn’t. She pleaded with them for another weekend but there was no leeway. With Emma away for a few days, Robyn was in charge of the creche and had no other option but to accept their places on the training course which started at eight am and finished at six. Then she had to call Taron and explain that she wouldn’t be able to come and see him and be by his side.

“I just feel like I am letting you down.”

“Robyn you could never let me down. Never. I can’t say I am not disappointed because I am but that’s because I would never lie to you. I understand how important your job is to you and how hard you have worked to get to where you are. We will get to see each other again.” Even though Taron was taking her news well, she could still hear the hurt in his voice. “You will definitely have to send me a picture of the dress now.”

“Taron I am so so sorry.”

“Robyn stop.”

“I promise the next weekend I have free; I am on my way over to you.”

“You do know I am back filming Kingsman next weekend, right? You will have to fly to New York to see me.”

“I am willing to do that Taron. I have some holidays left over.” He laughed a little. “I just can’t explain to you how mad I am because of all of this. I was looking forward to a squishy hug. What a fucking shit way to email about training. Apparently, they had emailed about it three weeks ago but we never got the bloody email and now there’s no choice but to go.”

“Robyn please stop beating yourself up over it.”

“I just so fucking annoyed over it.”

“Hey Robyn don’t start getting upset.” Taron could hear the emotion in her voice and he was working very hard to keep himself together with how disappointed she sounded .

“I really wanted to see you.”

“I know chicken. I wanted to see you too. I was looking forward to a head massage.” He was glad to hear Robyn laugh. “Look it is just one of those shit things that happen. We will make up for it.”

Robyn sighed. “I know. Could have been this weekend though.”

It was a sad goodbye, Taron promising he would ring her later on when she was finished work, both feeling utterly devastated that their reunion had been cancelled.

On Saturday, Emma had noticed how quiet but exasperated Robyn had been during their first three hours of learning about the new curriculum framework that was being introduced to early years education, Robyn almost hitting her head with frustration off the table she was sitting at. It was something herself and Emma were already trained in and both were blue in the face talking about with their staff and parents and Robyn knew the manual for the curriculum inside out and could not for the life of her figure out why the training was mandatory when she could have lectured on the topic herself.

“What has your knickers in a twist?” Asked Emma as they took a break for some tea and coffee. “No offense but you are in a fowl humour.”

Robyn crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at the shirt she was wearing, Taron’s shirt she had stolen. She might not have been able to see him over the weekend but she was going to do what she could to keep him in her thoughts for the whole day.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Robyn. Jesus everyone has bad days but I haven’t seen you in a mood like this since you came home from Florida.” Emma took a drink from her cup. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing.���

“Look I know you are annoyed over the training. I completely understand that this has been your first weekend off in weeks and sitting here listening to it, I know I can read your mind: why on earth are we here when we practise this every day in work? I have been asking myself the same question but even though we know it back to front, it looks good to make an appearance especially after they gave us the funding for the garden.”

Robyn huffed and puffed, running her hands through her hair. “Yeah I know Emma. I know that it’s just... ugh fuck it. It doesn’t matter.”

Emma put her cup down and turned to her supervisor. “No Robyn it does matter. Something is seriously bothering you.” She watched as the blonde stared at the ground. “Robyn seriously, what on earth is going on.” She frowned when her heard muttering. “Ok use your words properly please.”

Robyn signed and looked up. “Taron.”

“Taron. Gorgeously handsome man who shared your bed for two weeks?” Robyn rolled her eyes. “Yeah ok Taron and what about him?”

Robyn uncrossed her arms. “I was supposed to be seeing him this weekend.”

“Wait, what?”

“He invited me, well no that’s a lie, well a half lie because I know he was heavily involved but I was invited to a charity auction held by Elton John in London this weekend and I was going to see Taron again. I got myself a beautiful fancy dress to wear too.”

“Sorry what?”

“You heard me. Taron and I were going to see each other again. Actually…” Robyn looked at her watch. “We should have been reuniting with each other about now.”

Emma held her hands up. “Ok wait. You were supposed to be meeting Taron this weekend, a man who you haven’t shut up about since you dropped him off at the airport and were invited to a party at Elton John’s house and you were going to wear a fabulous dress but yet you are here doing training? Fucks sakes Robyn!”

“It is mandatory training Emma!”

“It’s Taron!” Replied Emma.

“Yeah I bloody know that! But here I am and there he is across the pond.”

“Why the hell aren’t you with him!”

“Man-da-tor-ry training.” Repeated Robyn.

“For one of us Robyn.”

“What?” She asked. “I rang the lady who sent the email and she said that all management staff had to attend the training.”

“Robyn you could have gone to another weekend of training.”

“I asked that and I couldn’t. Only this one.”

Emma frowned. “Then why was I speaking to a manger from another creche earlier and she was telling me that the manger of their sister creche had a wedding this weekend and was scheduled to attend the training a different day.”

“What?” Robyn exclaimed, feeling tears start to pool in her eyes. “I double checked. I told Taron I couldn’t go with him.”

“You stay here.”

Robyn ran her hands down her tired face as Emma walked away from her, heading straight for the woman who was giving the training course. She couldn’t believe this was happening. The last three days had been torture for her and this morning had been painfully horrible as she got ready to go a training course rather than the airport. She had sent Taron a quick text of a rocket and a man and got her usual chicken and heart emoji back along with a shamrock too. She felt absolutely terrible that she had let him down and even though he had been so understanding, she knew he was hiding the hurt he felt.

“Right get out of here.” Emma walked back to her quickly.

“What?”

“I didn’t say this to you but that stupid bitch has no problem with rearranging the training for you.”

“What the fuck? I asked her on the phone…”

“And yes, I know this Robyn and I have already explained to her that this will not be the end of the conversation about it but you need to go.” Emma looked at Robyn’s slightly blank face. “Go to Taron!”

Robyn leant back against the table. “I cancelled my flights.”

“You did what? Robyn!”

“Well didn’t think I was able to go, did I?”

“What time is this big event at tonight?” Asked Emma as she pulled out her phone.

“It starts at seven. I was supposed to get getting ready with Stella at Elton’s house and then Taron and I were going to walk the red carpet together. It’s his first public appearance since Florida.”

“Jesus Robyn, you need to be there for that for him and Stella is?”

“His stylist? She helped me with my dress.”

Emma looked at her before she went back to her phone. “Right I can get you a flight at three thirty.”

“Emma is there any…”

“Don’t you even finish that sentence Robyn Quinn. Taron wanted you there for a reason and you are going to be there even if it is a little bit late. You can make an entrance. Let’s book you on this flight for three thirty. It will get you into London for four thirty and then you can make your way to Elton’s to get ready.”

“It will be too late by then Emma.”

“How much do you want to see Taron?”

“More than I can explain.”

“Then let me book the flight for you and go and see him. Do you have your dress?”

“Yes.”

“Ok then let’s book you a hotel room and you can get ready there and hop in a taxi to Elton’s. I can’t even believe I am saying that. What time had you booked home for Sunday?”

“It was around seven.”

“Ok I have one for eight. I am booking these flights for you Robyn and you are going to London to see him. You can go home and pack and be at the airport in time to catch the flight and still make the party.”

“It’s actually an auction for his charity.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Whatever Robyn. I am booking these for you now and you are going and then we are booking a hotel room for you to get ready in. Ok so you won’t have a celebrity stylist to dress you but I am sure you can do your hair and make-up. I don’t even think Taron will care. He will just want to see you. Look up hotel rooms Robyn. Come on. Then you call Taron and tell him you will be there, but shall arrive fashionably late.”

Robyn took her own phone from her pocket and googled hotel rooms in London. She looked up the Premier Inn as she had stayed in many before and found a room in the one in Holborn. “I can get a room.”

“Well book it now. I am just through with your flights. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this Robyn.”

“I was told the training was mandatory Emma.”

“Not the training but your trip to London. I know how much Taron means to you.”

“I just wanted to keep it quiet. It was going to be splashed all over the newspapers anyway.” Robyn choose the option to pay at the hotel and confirmed her stay for the night, even though she wasn’t going to be using the room to sleep.

“Flights confirmed. I used your email so the confirmation will come to you and I included a bag for you too.”

“I will pay you back every cent.” Said Robyn as she screen-shot her room confirmation.

“We can talk about that on Monday. Now get your arse out of here and home so you can pack and give him a call to tell him the good news.”

“He is going to have a heart attack and my case is already packed. I never unpacked it.”

“Then go Robyn.”

“Thank you so much Emma and I will make up the training.”

“Forget the training. You could teach this training yourself and thank me on Monday with stories of your glorious celebrity weekend.” Emma gave Robyn a hug. “And make sure you get as many of those hugs in as you can.”

With another hug, Robyn let her friend go and grinned. “I am going to see him.”

“Only if you make the flight. Now go!”

Robyn ran down the stairs of the building and to her car. It was half an hour’s drive back to Kilcreen and it gave her about ten minutes to grab what she needed before she had to drive to the airport. She promised herself, the next time she needed to get to an airport, it was not going to be a rushed journey but here she was racing against the clock again. Knowing she had to concentrate on driving home safely and get to the airport in once piece, Robyn decided that she would wait until she was actually sitting in the terminal to call Taron because she knew he would keep talking with his excitement and she needed to make use of the time she had to ensure she made the flight. Her mood had done a complete one eighty and as she drove, her smile grew. She was going to see Taron and get the squishy hug she had been so looking forward too since he had left her.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 14

14/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: early 1995 (Humbug adjacent) | T | 5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

As the new year beckons Scully to put her life back together, she and Mulder share a Valentine's 'anti-date' on the Hoover Building rooftop.

TW for brief discussion of disordered eating.

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

The new year struck Scully with a particular melancholy. 1994 was, to put it plainly, one of the worst--if not the worst--year of her life. Even without her disappearance, it would earn that title. Her father’s untimely passing and the brief but brutal closure of the X-Files wrenched the few good things left from her fingers. Factor in the four weeks in late summer that she has no memory nor knowledge of, and you’ll understand why Scully has taken to calling it her year on the dark side of the moon.

Of course, the aftershocks of her abduction are still felt every day. Flipping the calendar does nothing to remedy that. At her last appointment, Dr. Zapolsky noticed that Scully’s weight had decreased rather sharply from previous visits and made the point that “rapid weight loss can stop ovulation,” which Scully interpreted as kicking her while she was down. That’s not exactly fair, after all. Technically, her period stopped well before she decided to restrict herself. 

It’s odd how it happened. Her weight was fine before her abduction; slender but within the healthy range for her height. Even when she was returned, it had only dropped a couple pounds, as if they fed her...as if they cared. She found that hard to believe. In the months afterward, she sought a physical representation of her mental anguish, and since she and food were never on the best terms to begin with, the choice was simple.

The other day, she had to punch an extra hole in all her belts to hold them steady on her hips. She knows the consequences of this; she’ll live them and accept it. 

There has been some beneficial progress. Dr. Zapolsky started Scully on low-dose birth control around Thanksgiving, hoping that it would balance her hormones and regulate her periods. It has, in fact, brought back her cycle, something that Scully did not expect. She gave Melissa her leftover tampons in October. Now Melissa buys enough for the two of them and insists that Scully doesn’t owe her a dime. Scully is too grateful for this to speak about it.

Her downward spiral reached a snag when she realized that smoking would make her birth control ineffective, shortly after her and Mulder’s Christmas Eve smoke break. She ditched the cigarettes, mad at herself for taking a month to read the disclaimer (she’s a doctor for god’s sake, she should know better!), yet glad to have an out. Smoking was a habit she exercised because she could. It won’t hurt her anytime soon, and millions of others do it, so where’s the harm? That was her thinking. As soon as she had a reason to stop, she did, and it felt a bit like jumping from a runaway train just before it skids off the tracks. 

So she is better, and she is worse. Which really means she is the same as she was. That is the conclusion she carries into 1995’s frosts and thaws. 

There is one thing she is certain of, something that she hadn’t given much thought to until the one year anniversary of her father’s death. She needs her faith back. She’s always practiced in a cyclical pattern, her devoutness orbiting in and out like the moon around the Earth. Sometimes closer and brighter, sometimes farther away, sometimes nowhere to be found.

She has to believe it will come back; it always does. She was made in God’s image, and her father’s. This is both a blessing and a curse.

But no one can be God, and she can’t be her father either. His faith never wavered. If hers was the moon--fickle and subject to doubt--his was the sun, steady and warming everything around it. This was a quality she was envious of, and then guilty in her blasphemy. She has never managed to feel completely content inside the bounds of piety like he could. She’s constantly shaking the devil off her back, then repenting for it, then wondering if it were all worth it. What if...what if...what if...she isn’t fully persuaded in her beliefs, and she knows that this is the worst sin of all. Like Mulder though, she wants to believe, and shouldn’t that count for something?

Imperfection is allowed. Understood, even. Doubt is not as permissible. “He who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind,” the Bible says. Sometimes Scully takes that to mean she should walk into the ocean. Then she realizes that would be blasphemous too. 

Some people believe without trying. Her father was one of those. Mulder too, in a different way. She used to think that she was too. Now she’s not so sure. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” How many times has she read that line? Has she ever lived up to it? She’s seen and still not believed. Certainly that means she’s going to Hell.

Or is she already there?...She wonders that sometimes. Maybe she didn’t make it back from the other side. Maybe the devil just wanted her to believe that she had, and so he’d constructed some kind of diorama of Scully’s life that would go wrong bit by bit, boiling her like a gradually heated bathtub. No resting in peace for the unbeliever.

She can’t imagine a worse punishment than all the potentially good things in her life getting dismantled beyond her control. She’d rather never experience them at all than know their joy then watch them fall apart. Missy would kill her if she heard this, but you can’t please everybody.

It is at this point that Scully embarks on her chosen method of religious self-flagellation: going through the Ten Commandments and determining whether she’s violated them. Count up your sins and God won’t have to; practically the tagline of the Catholic faith.

She thinks she does okay with the first few. She has no idols, she honors her mother and father, and Mulder knows not to call her on Sunday mornings. Of course, the part about not taking the Lord’s name in vain can be tricky, but she’s working on it. 

Number five is where it gets dicey. Thou shalt not kill. She imagines that she wouldn’t, not on purpose, but the circumstances of her job worry her. God makes no exceptions for self-defense. And what if she were ever to be a true doctor? If she couldn’t save a patient, does that mean she killed them? 

Her father was in the Navy. He never killed anyone.

Number six...well, she doesn’t mention that often. Few people know about Daniel. Missy is one. Scully harbors a genuine shame regarding that time in her life, not so much because of Daniel, but because she was complicit in hurting his wife and daughter. It was a young, foolish mistake that she never wants to make again. 

She feels pretty good about number seven. The only thing she has ever stolen is one of Charlie’s matchbox cars when they were kids. She was uninterested in Missy’s hand-me-down Barbies and Raggedy Ann dolls. The boys’ toys were much cooler. She trusted the Lord enough to know that He wouldn’t hold something she did when she was seven against her. Besides, she gave it back when Charlie figured out it was missing. She just wishes he had let her play with him after that.

Number eight: thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. She considers honesty one of her best qualities. She sure hopes God does too. She’s not the most open person, but that’s different from lying…

Nine is a lost cause, considering six had been broken. This was her least favorite part of her family’s religion: the power it had to cause her shame about her own body, her own desires. She had her first crisis of faith over this at age 14. Missy comforted her with something she has never forgotten: “The original sin was the serpent’s deception, not Eve’s desire. Even God pins it on the woman.” She knew her sister could only say that because she didn’t truly believe and wasn’t trying to, but it had stuck with Scully through many moments when she needed it. 

And finally, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. She supposes she did this with the matchbox cars when she was seven, but in literal terms that’s about it. Metaphorically, she does this all the time and struggles with why she feels so inadequate. Her sister’s confidence, Mulder’s tenacity, her father’s faith...The ideal Dana Scully would have all of these. The real one is a work in progress.

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

So it goes that she finds herself prepping a case in the office on Valentine’s Day. Mulder’s scheduled to fly to Florida the next morning to investigate attacks in a community of circus performers. He’s convinced it’s the Fiji Mermaid, she’s convinced he needs to get his head checked; the usual. This is one comfort Scully can always rely on. No matter how utterly twisted her life gets, she will always think Mulder is crazy, and he will always go along with it. 

The occasion of the day goes unmentioned until what Mulder lovingly refers to as “closing time,” which is not a specific time but rather the point that he finally gives up for the day, usually hastened by his partner’s prodding. Scully has learned the signs of his dwindling tenacity by now. She glances at the clock as he pulls his glasses off his head and tosses a sunflower seed in the wastebasket, pleasantly surprised that it reads only 5:15. He catches her checking, his eyes--amber today--meeting hers.

His lips curl in amusement. “You got a date or something?” 

“No,” she blinks, feeling like a child caught taking a cookie from the jar. Her cheeks grow hot, threatening to make a scene. “I figured you did, since you’re finishing up so early.”

Mulder straightens his stack of papers, clinking them against the desk obnoxiously. “Think again, buckaroo.”

He’s taken to calling her that lately. Neither one of them is sure why, it just popped into his mind one day and stuck. It makes her feel like a heroine in some 70s Western shoot-out flick who wrangles all the bad guys and locks’em in the county jail. She’s thankful that someone can see her for what she could be rather than what she is. It helps her see that too. 

He stuffs his papers in a manila folder, then rises from behind the desk and stoops toward the backpack he prefers to a briefcase. (She called him a kindergartener once because of it and he remarked that he’d ‘rather be a kindergartener than an adult.’ She couldn’t argue with that.) “Valentine’s Day isn’t really observed under the Fox Mulder calendar,” he says, unzipping the bag and putting the folder in. “Halloween and Thanksgiving, those are my holy days.” 

“You worship at the shrine of the food pyramid,” Scully smirks. 

“Yes indeed. Wait--” Scully’s gaze flicks to him, genuinely concerned. He dissolves her uncertainty with a boyish grin. “--does the food pyramid include candy?”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s not deeply felt. She misses these flat-lining comedic routines of his, usually at their best when they’re putzing through some tumble-weed town where the bathroom stalls at the gas station don’t lock. He loves being the funniest person in a ten-mile radius, and that’s not a satisfaction he can have in DC. She wonders if he tells these lame jokes to strangers now, or if they were just for her. 

“Speaking of food,” he says, brushing a hand through his hair, “you wanna grab dinner?”

Scully’s forehead creases. “Like, in a restaurant?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna be that forward, but I guess we could take it to yours or mine...”

Scully laughs lightly, wrapping her arms around herself, fingers caressing her bony elbows. “We’ve already covered what day it is,” she demures. “Everyone having dinner is going to be on a date.”

“You’re right...the restaurant probably won’t let us in unless we make out in front of the hostess,” he deadpans. 

“Not to mention that we don’t have any reservations…”

“Well, making out might remedy that, depending on the hostess.”

She gives him her ‘last straw’ look--crossed arms, arched eyebrow, stinging glare--and he raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll stick to slipping a twenty, then.”

Scully uncrosses her arms and slinks toward her purse rather languishly. “No restaurants, Mulder. It’s too much trouble on a holiday.”

“I sure hope you didn’t mistake my suggestion as an invitation to Mulder’s Downhome Country Kitchen, cause that place is not Michelin star rated.”

“I’m well aware. I’ve seen the menu.”

“Is Chateau de Scully open tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raise that his partner couldn’t have missed if she tried--and she did. 

“Well, the chef is celebrating Valentine’s Day with her girlfriend in Oregon, so you’d be waiting awhile for your meal.”

“There’s no back-up chef? I don’t know, someone who may need to feed herself while the chef is away?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t serve the public.”

“Ouch.”

He plucks their respective coats off the rack, folding his own over his arm and throwing his partner’s over her shoulders. She jumps just the tiniest bit--she probably thinks he didn’t notice, so he’ll pretend he didn’t--then slips her arms in the sleeves and pulls it on properly.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, avoiding eye contact.

After he’s put his own jacket on, he hoists up his backpack, fielding off his partner’s near swerve into laughter. She’s barely maintaining a straight face, and even if it’s at his expense, he loves it because unadulterated joy is something she deserves so much. 

“You know what, I’ve got just the solution,” he says as he strolls out the doorway, flipping the light switch as he goes, leaving Scully scrambling in the dark. 

“Hey!” 

He hears her petulant voice, followed quickly by the laugh he was looking for. When she turns to him after locking the office door, her eyes are still shining from the momentary euphoria. He is so happy to know her.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place is the Smithsonian of vending machines.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And I know a door to the rooftop that never gets locked.” He flashes her a sly look, his intentions pure despite himself. 

“It’s 40 degrees outside,” she counters before he can even voice his proposal.

“Sure, but we can make some fresh coffee, and there’s gotta be blankets in that storage closet of ours.” Ours. Very few things are theirs. She wishes he would say it again.

As much as her instinct is to protest, she can’t quite muster the resolve to. I mean, it checks all the boxes. It’s not a restaurant, she’d only have to eat a snack from the vending machine, and she wouldn’t have to spend Valentine’s night alone, which is a sneaky sadness that had been pressing at the back of her mind.

“Fine,” she bluffs, as if it were a great inconvenience to her. She enjoys the cat-and-mouse game, what can she say? “You find the blankets, I’ll get the coffee.”

Mulder smiles, his lips edging over his teeth in an aesthetically pleasing way that makes Scully feel like he missed his calling as a male model. Of course, this smile isn’t posed. The constant in his life is his partner’s unpredictability. Everyone thinks she’s a stone-cold skeptic, but he knows she’s an uncertain believer, and there’s no one harder to pin down than that. Her yes to his Valentine plans may as well be an admission that Bigfoot exists. 

“Let’s meet by the sixth floor stairwell, okay?” he prompts, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Flashes of Christmas Eve sabotage her thoughts--her mother’s kitchen, her untidy tipsiness, Mulder just trying to iron things out. He’d touched her, and she’d lashed out at him. Reaction formation, that was the term for the defense mechanism she’d used. He knew it, probably studied it extensively. Concealing an impulse by acting out its opposite.

Instead of mentioning this, she looks him in the eyes and says, “Okay, I’ll use the coffee machine on the sixth floor then,” as if his touch hadn’t brought forth both memory and desire. 

“Great. See you there.” He pulls finger guns, and she thinks that maybe this is already her best Valentine’s Day yet.

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

Five stories of stairs is a long way to go with two hot mugs of coffee. Scully had hoped there would be some styrofoam cups--something she could put a lid on--but the Bureau is stingy, so she had to go all the way back to the basement, grab their coffee mugs, take the elevator back to the sixth floor, brew some dark roast (to Mulder’s probable discontent), then hope that by some miracle, they could make it to the roof. 

Ever the idealist, Mulder takes the challenge in stride. Though his arms are already bundled with some comforters he found tucked away in storage (he shudders to think how old they must be), he takes the handle of his mug, squeezing the blankets snug against his chest. 

“Are you sure about this?” his partner asks with her usual uneven tone. “What if we get all the way up there and the door is locked?”

“We knock and get the snipers to open the door for us,” he answers matter-of-factly.

Scully’s eyebrows shoot up. “Snipers?”

“Oh yeah, did I forget to mention? There’s a longstanding rumor about snipers on the roof that I’d like to get to the bottom of.”

His demeanor is just loose enough to make Scully question whether he is in fact kidding. A conversational casualness permeates all of his sensational soliloquies because to him, the phenomena he’s discussing should be regarded as a fact of the world. If he ever launched into an indifferent lecture on the subject, she’d know he was bluffing.

Having never heard the rumor herself, she decides this is simply a figment of his overactive imagination. She’ll play along. “Well, if it’s anything like the talk of you being spooky, then it doesn’t look good for us…” she teases, her own smirk eliciting an identical one from her partner. 

Masking his impatience by embodying the role of the gentleman, Mulder uses his free hand to prop open the stairwell door, ushering his partner through. The landing of each story has one stray light bulb, there for show more than anything. Most of them are either flickering or burned out, the agents discover as they inch their way up, one slowly taken step at a time. Step, pause for the coffee to settle, hope it doesn’t breach its container, step: that’s the process they adopt for approximately 100 steps in the cold Hoover stairwell. There are many ways to show love; Mulder bets that you wouldn’t find this in any lame self-help book. 

“Do you think Romeo would have done this for Juliet?” he muses.

“Depends on what he was expecting once they made it to the top,” Scully quips, the edges of her lips turning up slightly.

Mulder nods, perpetually amused by her (too) infrequent jaunts into suggestive territory. “My man really got ahead of himself with the whole ‘dying for her’ schtick.” 

“You’re one to talk.” 

Mulder eyes her. “Actually, I think it was you who was going to die for me.”

“Not for you, because of you.” Her statement is neither packed with malice nor free of blame. “There’s a difference.”

She may as well have shot him at point blank range; then at least she could see the bleeding. She didn’t mean to be so blunt, but he gave her the perfect setup. Mulder cauterizes his own wound, disguising his pain as a joke. “Damn, I was finally moving past that!”

“At least one of us was,” she says, her voice fluttering, and he knows she’s just teasing, but god, what if she’s cauterizing her own hidden wounds?

They reach the door labelled ‘roof,’ and Mulder can’t decipher what happens first, him putting his hand on the door handle or her placing a chilly hand on his cheek. Playing it back in his head later on he won’t even be able to figure it out-- it cut time loose from its axes in such a way. 

“Are you okay, Scully?” He’s not sure why this is the first question out of his mouth, but it is.

“I need a hand warmer,” she murmurs. “The coffee’s already cooling off.”

All the while, Mulder is acutely aware that her hand’s still on his cheek and she’s got him propped against the door, and what does she want him to do with that information?

Her thumb grazes his mole, and it becomes clear to him that there are two ways this scenario could go, and if she doesn’t want the second one it’s imperative that she stop rubbing rhythmic circles into his skin.

He clears his throat. “Do you want to...do you want me to check for snipers?” Her touch continues, uninterrupted. 

“Is the door unlocked?” Her voice sounds airy and far away. She probably didn’t even hear his question. 

He pushes on the handle, confirming their freedom. “Yes ma’am,” he answers, fear of a sort edging him into total politeness. He is twelve tiptoeing through the too empty halls of his house, again.

“Let’s have a picnic,” she says, still light and airy, as if that weren’t the plan the entire time. Then, she breaks into sudden laughter, pulling her hand away from Mulder’s cheek in her fit. “We forgot the food!” 

She is back to normal now, his steadfast Scully with a side of joy. 

Half of him mourning for the otherworldly Scully and the moment that could have been, he laughs too. “There may have been some lapses in planning.”

“We can make do, can’t we?” There’s a glimmer in her eyes that suggests the moment is not as far gone as he believed.

“Cold coffee sounds like an enduring Valentine’s tradition,” he affirms.

They choose not to dwell on words like “enduring” and “tradition,” entering the chill of the Hoover Building rooftop on Valentine’s night. 

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

They’re not that far above the city really--the Hoover’s no NYC skyscraper--but their heads are in the clouds, that’s for sure. It’s not the typical dinner date complete with melted candles and overpriced dessert and overly attentive waiters, but as it turns out, they would both hate that. After all, this is not a date, it’s a casual hangout between two coworkers who don’t have dates on Valentine’s Day. If anything, it’s an anti-date. That’s what they tell themselves.

February’s unrelenting chill swirls around them, catching Scully’s hair in playful tantrums and turning the two of them into life-size paperweights atop the blankets. More sensible people may call the night a bust, but not the Prince of Halloweentown and his esteemed guest. This unconventional adventure is exactly what they bargained for.

Scully looks to Mulder, who’s holding his coffee like it’s a beer. She smiles. That is so him.

She exhales, and her breath spells itself out on the air. She tilts her face to the sky, as if the sun might suddenly rise and bask her in its heat. Mulder notices and fixes his attention there too, happy to have an excuse to look skyward. It’s his outlet, like hers is the sea her father dedicated his life to. His preferred escape method is to fly away; hers is to drift off.

He forces himself back into the moment, here, with her, and the expanse of the sky. “I once spent fifty bucks on one of those ‘name a star’ certificates, and I can’t even see it because of the goddamn light pollution.”

“I think that’s really more about the gesture than anything else,” Scully replies, trying to soothe him as if this were actually a pressing problem. “Unless you bought it for yourself...?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, no. It was for an old girlfriend.”

Scully raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Did you name it after her?”

“No, we named it the Rhine star.”

A puzzled look passes between them. It gives him a twinge of joy that his partner is not the encyclopedia she seems to be. 

“After Joseph Banks Rhine, the founder of parapsychology,” he clarifies. “We were both fascinated by the field.”

“Oh.” She turns her face back toward the sky with the feeling of a kid who missed the winning word of the spelling bee. There are times when she is grateful she does not know everything, and times when she is not. Somehow, this is both. 

“I’ve thought about buying another one and naming it after Samantha,” Mulder continues, “but it feels too much like a grave marker.”

“I’d consider it a lovely tribute,” Scully counters, used to doing so. “But I’m thirty and I own my own gravestone, so take that with a grain of salt.”

It’s true--once Dana was returned, her mother couldn’t bear to look at the gravestone she’d had engraved in memory of her missing daughter, so she gave it to Mulder, who saw no logical place for it to go except the woman whose name it bore. Margaret hadn’t wanted her to know that it existed, that they’d gotten so far as considering her gone. While it brought Mulder no joy to present it to his partner, it served as a reminder of the miracle her survival was, and in such bleak times, they had both needed that. 

“It doesn’t scare me--the thought of dying,” Scully says to the stars. Mulder wonders if she meant for him to hear it. He wishes he hadn’t, but he’s met with the realization that she is trying to start a conversation when her eyes look into his.

He doesn’t know where to go with this, so he toes the line between deep and sarcastic. “I thought Catholics were all about that heaven and hell stuff.”

“Yes, but…” where is the line between truth and blasphemy, she wonders? Settling herself, she starts over. “I’ve lived both on Earth, so what have I got to fear?” She turns her glance to the blanket, as if shrinking out of the Lord’s sight. “Besides, sometimes I think I’m already there.” 

“Heaven?”

“No, Hell.”

He should have known. He grips the edge of his blanket, wondering why his parents had prioritized the sex talk but never explained what to do in a situation like this. He has a psychology degree, sure, but he’s as much a psychologist as she’s a physicist. 

“There are periods of life, I think, where everyone feels like that,” he says in the most earnest voice he can conjure. “It’s just that nobody ever talks about it.”

“Did you feel like that with Samantha?” 

Leave it to Scully to turn a personal conversation back on him.

He bites his lip. “Yeah, yeah, I did. Still do, if I think about it too long.”

“How did you...move past it?” The lights of nearby buildings reflect off her blue eyes, galaxies to his black holes. He’d give anything to sluice the pain right from her heart. 

He’ll rely on his words instead, despite knowing there are depths they cannot touch. “I, uh, I didn’t really move past it, I just moved. Kept moving, I guess. I found a place where I could make progress out of my pain. Here--the X-Files.”

Scully swallows hard, knocking back tears. "That’s the issue. I feel stuck. Just completely unable to go forward. There’s a current in my brain that keeps pushing me backward.”

Mulder lets out a deep breath, trying to take both their pain with it. “Have you considered seeing a therapist?” he asks delicately. “It sounds like you may have PTSD.”

“Over what?” she practically snaps. “I don’t remember a thing.”

“That doesn’t mean you have no memories. Regression hypnosis could help recover repressed or unconscious memories, so you could understand exactly what’s bothering you.”

“You think I haven’t heard this spiel from Melissa?”

“I bet Melissa doesn’t have first-hand experience with it.”

“No, she doesn’t,” she murmurs in the tone of an apology. She knew that he had it, she had listened to the tapes. How could she let it slip her mind? It is uncouth of her to look down on his chosen method of healing.

Mulder isn’t bothered. He continues, “It helped me. Both in recalling the details of the experience, and in having a recorded recollection of it. It helped me feel less...insane.”

“Mmm.” If he were just a bit closer, she’d reach out and touch his hand.

“If anything, I wish I did it earlier.”

Scully’s understanding of him sharpens, like an ophthalmologist flipping the lens, making her vision clearer. Her gaze probes him, mutual souls recognizing mutual pain. 

“Hey.” He uses his extended wingspan to touch her shoulder with the care an older sibling would show holding their baby brother for the first time. She turns her head, their faces mere inches away from each other. His eyes are a dopey brown, his breath scented with coffee.

“Yes?” she says with a coquettish flitting of her eyelashes. 

“You should come back out on the road. I could use someone to shoot down all my wild whims.”

She can’t help but smile, though she keeps her mouth closed. “Tired of telling jokes to strangers who don’t laugh, are you?”

He smirks. “Well, yeah, that too.” He leans back a bit, putting enough distance between them to keep the sparks in check. “Of course, if you’re not ready, there’s no pressure. I just think you could use the change of scenery and--you know--companionship.”

She nods, looks out into the night. He’s got the pulse of her problems and the salve that could soothe them. “You’re right.” How often does he get to hear those beautiful words come out of her mouth? “I need to get out of my cocoon, and I think I’m okay enough to do that now.”

“Yeah?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, something like hope.

She laughs--catharsis manifest--and it’s like a sheen of light coming through a crack in her jagged surface. “Yeah, Mulder. I’ll make the arrangements with Skinner.”

He pumps his fists in the air. “Hallelujah!” 

She hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her. Any stray thoughts she had of him being lonely she chalked up to her own delusions. 

“Florida is probably a lost cause,” she notes, “but after that…”

He nods, pats her shoulder. “After that.”

To have her back meant something like freedom. The X-Files had never been anything without her. He had never been anything without her. 

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Bored (Lenny/Midge)

This was supposed to be a short little comment flash fic but Lenny and Midge are chatty people and so it turned into actual fic. My first attempt at this fandom and Lenny/Midge.

Smut under the cut.

For @phoenixwrites because. 

II

“You know what bothers me about this?  I mean really bothers me more than anything?” Midge sat on the bench and leaned against the bars, her back to the second cell.  She knew Lenny was listening, though. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere.

“The violation of your first amendment rights?”  Lenny was using his own bench as a cot, sounding half asleep.  “The over-reaching of government control?”

“It’s boring.  I’m bored,  You’re bored.  The walls are a boring color and there’s nothing to read except the wanted posters on the wall and those pictures are not flattering.  Would it kill them to have some magazines in here?  There has to be a prison digest magazine doesn’t there?  Prison guard weekly?”  Even though she knew he wasn’t looking Midge gestured at the empty area on the floor in front of her.  “They could have a nice coffee table right here.”

“I’m pretty sure the goal isn’t to make you comfortable.”  His voice was a little closer, nearer to her ear.  He wasn’t laying down anymore.

“They should do something.  The people might riot if they don’t have something to keep them entertained.”

“’The people’ is you and me, and I’m not much in a rioting mood tonight.  I might be able to help with the entertainment, though.”  Midge was about to ask what he meant when she felt the lightest touch of his finger down her back, along the path of her spine.  It made her shiver.  “We always said ‘someday.’ Any reason that day can’t be now?”

“We’re in a jail cell.  Not just a jail cell but two separate ones.”  It was a weekday, and late enough that no one else was around and likely wouldn’t show up, but it still didn’t make sense.

“I didn’t say it was the best idea, but it certainly would make things interesting.  Stand up, Midge.  Come to me.”  She could swear he put just the slightest emphasis on ‘come.’  When she looked over her shoulder he was standing against the bars, close to the far wall.  From where he was they wouldn’t be able to see the door.  Anyone coming through the door wouldn’t be able to see them, not right away.

“Are we going to dance?” she joked.  It had been almost a year since they had, that night in Florida.  She’d been home, after the disaster of the tour ending.  By the time he’d come up north she’d been playing clubs on the west coast.  They’d met up in Los Angeles for a few days, but there hadn’t been time for dancing, or even dinner alone with him.  

“You could say it’s a sort of dancing.  They call it the horizontal tango, though for obvious reasons the horizontal part is out of the question.”  He leaned against the bars with his whole body, one hand on her side from the wrist up.

“You can’t really mean…” But he did, clearly, because she’d lost track of one of his hands and suddenly found it caressing the inside of her thigh, just an inch or two under her dress.  “Lenny.”

“You don’t sound bored anymore.”  The tips of his fingers were stroking her, and gentle wasn’t a word she applied to Lenny but he was being very gentle with her.  At least he was until he tugged her hand through the bars and bit the inside of her wrist just above her wrist, scraping his teeth along her skin.  She’d never thought of her wrist as being an erogenous zone before.

“Someone could come in.”  She glanced in the direction of the door.

“Let them find their own girl.”  His fingers moved higher and she squirmed, but it had more to do with what he said than anything.  His girl?  Did he mean for just this moment, or… “Tell me now if you don’t want this.”

“Will you still respect me in the morning?” she joked, taking a half step to the right so her legs were spread a little wider.

“Who said I respect you now?” he fired back.  He kissed her arm before tugging it to rest on his shoulder.  Her dress was cut just low enough that he could slip a finger between her breasts and caress bare skin.  She wished there was time to turn around and let him undo the zipper and unlatch her bra.  She had a feeling he wouldn’t need half of the latches undone for him.  It was funny to think that a room full of strangers - and Suzie - had seen more of her breasts than he had.  She couldn’t risk being that naked if the guards came back; profanity was hard enough to explain to her parents without adding a second count of public indecency.  Did jail cells count as public?

“This is only my third arrest.  Is this one of those things you pick up when you spend more time here?”  She wasn’t sure how he’d gotten his hand inside her underwear but there he was, cupping her, palm grinding lightly against her clit.

“I can honestly say I’ve never thought about fucking anyone in here before.  Fucking someone up, maybe, but ‘to fuck’ and ‘to fuck up’ are completely different things, as you well know.”

“I’ve thought of this.  Not here, though I’m not complaining because you really know what to do with your fingers.  But doing this, with you.  Someday.”  That someday had been haunting her for a year.  There were nights she’d picked up the phone to call him.  Nights she’d contemplated just showing up at his hotel.  Nights, too, where she’d convinced herself that it was never meant to be and they’d missed a chance before it had even happened.

“I would have been happy to have you right against that doorframe, if you had asked.”  His fingers curled inside of her, rubbing, probing, stretching.  When was the last time she’d had anything inside of her other than her own hand or one of her special toys?  Had it been a year?  Had it been since before Florida?

“Door open or closed?” She shifted her hand from his shoulder to his neck, pulling them a little closer.  Was it too soon to kiss him?  Would it weird him out?  Would it weird her out?  Considering the fingers in her pussy was it strange that she was second-guessing a kiss?

“Closed, but us on the outside.  You liked the look of the pool.  Maybe after we finished, all hot and sticky, we could have jumped in to cool down.”

“I liked the look of you.”  She tugged on his tie and decided that she was done thinking and over-analyzing.  She’d thought too much that night and nothing had happened.  The steel of the bars was cool against her forehead when she tilted her head enough to line up their mouths.  Thankfully he didn’t seem to object.  Or maybe he was distracted but he seemed to be matching her tongue stroke for tongue stroke.  When his fingers started moving quicker she was glad for the kiss to muffle the moans she couldn’t quite silence.  Her legs were starting to tremble as he found that overly sensitive spot inside that most guys didn’t take the time to seek out, or denied completely.  

“Fuck me,” she moaned against his mouth when his thumb made tight circles against her clit.  She shifted her hand to the bars to support herself better, and was amused to look down and see Lenny’s whole arm was under her skirt.

“Careful, someone might have you arrested for profanity.  Or prostitution.”

“You know, I think my mother would prefer prostitution to comedy.  It would be a relief.”  the only relief she cared about right now, though, was the one from the building tension between her legs.  

“Why not do both?  You could be a pioneer for a whole new form of entertainment, a two for one kind of deal.”  He was smirking at her, and she might have laughed except that his fingers moved faster and his fingers worked their way just far enough that he was able to pinch her nipple.  

“Oh fuck,” she shouted, not at all mindful of where she was.  It was like when she was standing on stage and everything was just flying.  The pot she’d smoked a few times didn’t give her nearly the same high as performing - or having Lenny Bruce’s fingers in her cunt.  What would it be like to have all of him?  And none of the clothes?

“Better than a magazine?”  He was coky and gave her a grin.  If not for the very obvious tenting of his pants she might think that he was completely in control.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”  She didn’t want to think about what might have happened on this jail floor as she slid down to her knees and nimbly undid the fly of his trousers.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me either.  It’s not about tit for tat.  I have great tits, by the way, but unfortunately you’re going to have to wait to see them.”  She didn’t push his pants down, not when someone could come into the room.  It made things a little trickier, but this wasn’t her first rodeo and she was confident in her skills to make him come. “Tell me, Lenny.  Tell me what it means to come.”

“To is a preposition; come is a verb.”  She let his words flow over her as she sucked his cock into her mouth and felt him hit the back of her throat.  She wasn’t bored anymore.  Clearly she just needed to make sure she only got arrested if Lenny was around to join her.