#train case makeup bag

[mead-iocre]

Our New Normal Pt. 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Our New Normal 2/4 (read pt 1 here)

“The next station is London Euston, where this train terminates. Please ensure you have all your belongs with you when you leave the train”

You pull out your AirPods from your ears and slot them back into it’s case. The train journey was pretty pleasant. Interestingly, the First Class cabin was quieter than usual, with less fellow travellers in this trip than usual.

You grab your hand mirror from your bag,  checking your appearance and fidgeting around with your hair; making sure to retouch your lipstick and spritz a little perfume. You rarely wore makeup when it wasn’t necessary, but for some reason you wanted to make the extra effort to make yourself look slightly more put together when Leah picks you up tonight. Usually, the Arsenal defender only ever saw you in sweatpants and a hoodie, thick rim glasses instead of contact lenses, and with your hair tied up in a loose ponytail. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you were nervous to see your best mate. That wasn't normal at all.

The first thing Leah spots is your familiar silver rimowa suitcase– in fact, it was hers first. When the wheels of your well-loved and well-traveled suitcase decided to break during one of your visits to London, Leah insisted that you take one of her many suitcases that she had stowed away. The blonde never ended up asking for it back so you’ve kept it ever since, and use it every time you take your little trips. 

Leah’s eyes trail upwards until they meet yours. She cocks one eyebrow at the slight difference in your appearance. To her, you were always beautiful but there was something about you right then that seemed different– like you were currently going through a big lifestyle change and the subtle difference in your appearance reflected that. In her mind, the defender chalked it up to you preparing for your transfer to your new club. It wasn't something she liked to think about often as you still had not told her where you were moving to. She just hoped that wherever you moved to, it won't be too far from her.

Leah watched from the distance as your eyes scanned the busy station, trying to find her. She grinned as she sees you weave your fingers through your hair to push it back, a long-time habit of yours that Leah found very, very charming.

Eventually her time to admire you from afar gets cut short when your eyes finally meet hers. You both grin at each other from across the arrivals area of the station before simultaneously making your way towards each other, skilfully dodging other people along the way. 

Leah is the one that closes the distance between the two of you, her arms wrapping themselves around your waist; meanwhile yours found purchase around her shoulders. For a moment, all you see is her strawberry blonde hair as she tucks her face into your neck. 

“Hiya, beautiful” She mumbles against your neck. You can feel the light press of her lips as they move against your skin causing you to giggle slightly at the feeling.

You’ve missed her a lot. 

This was normal.

It was normal to miss you friend this much.

“Hi, Lee” You say softly against her ear. This is what you’ve been craving for weeks now– Leah and her hugs. No matter how long you both were apart, there was nothing awkward about the first hug when you are both reunited. It’s instinctual, it’s comfort, and it’s home. You step closer to her, minimising whatever little space there was left between your bodies, and wrap your arms tighter around her neck. 

Home.

“I’ve missed you, baby” A moment later Leah moves to break the hug, her arms gliding across your lower back, both palms pressing against you until they settle comfortably on your hips. She reaches up to cup one side of your face, tilting it to the side, before her lips land sweetly on your cheek. When she pulls away so you are both finally seeing eye to eye, there’s that familiar grin on her face. You couldn’t help but mirror it back with a big smile of your own. 

“I missed you too” You mumble back, blushing slightly at the intensity of her stare.

You’ve nagged her in the past for her staring habit, and all she did was quip back saying she’s “making sure all your cute freckles are still there”

“Right. Let’s get a move on then” Without even waiting for your reply, the defender has one hand over the handle of your suitcase and the other tugging you along behind her.

You both walk outside towards the parking lot, the chill of the London air feels all too familiar lately, until you stop by her car. The blonde unlocks her car, opens the passenger door, and ushers you inside before jogging to the boot of her car to stow away your luggage. 

Leah turns on the ignition and then presses a button on the console of the car to turn the heater on. You can barely make out the details of the other cars outside in the parking lot due to the chill fogging up the windows, barely being able to make out passer-buyers exhaling fogs of cold air as they chat to one another. She glances over to you, noticing that you’ve got your arms crossed, hands tucked under the cuffs of your long wool jacket. 

“Cold?” She reaches a hand over to gently push back the strands of hair that have fallen over your face. Her hand lingers by your cheek, a frown already forming on her face.

This is normal.

Leah knows you don’t like the cold. Unlike those who look forward to “sweater-weather” and pumpkin spice lattes, you hate the autumn and winter months. You preferred the warmer months when you can sunbathe and wear tank tops all day. “Sorry baby, I should’ve warmed the car up for you earlier”

You smile at her. This is why it was inevitable that you grew feelings her. She’s the kind of person that would go above and beyond for others. Your close friends and teammates would tease you, often jokingly complaining that Leah is spoils you too much and gives you the “princess treatment” even in simple chores. It made you wonder if this dynamic was going to change once you became teammates for the same club.

“It’s fine, Lee. I’ll warm up in a bit” 

Your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the Arsenal defender because she immediately shrugs off her own black puffer and places it over your body. You were about to nag the blonde about how now she’ll be the one freezing her socks off, but she shut your protests up with a quick stern look in your direction. You figured there was no point arguing with her when you’ve got a surprise for her later on, so you reluctantly accepted her coat.

Speaking of surprises, you were starting to feel nervous. You have never hid anything from your best friend, especially not something as big as this, and you can’t help but overthink about what might happen after tonight. Part of you knows that Leah will most likely be ecstatic over your transfer, but a smaller, more pessimistic part of your brain was worried that Leah would hate being around you even more; or perhaps she might get sick of being around you constantly.

You were great teammates for England, but international camp never lasted long enough to really test how well you can communicate your feelings, and how you can deal with arguments. Sure, you’ve had a few disagreements here and there but you both always resolved it quickly due to the looming threat of having to say goodbye to one another once camp was over once again. You were worried that being together more often would strain your relationship considering you were both complete opposites when it came to how you expressed your feelings.

Leah was a very confrontational person and she does not hesitate to tell people exactly how she feels. On the pitch, she has no problem arguing with the ref whenever she disagreed with a call, and she was exactly the same off the pitch. You, on the other hand, preferred to bottle up your feelings until you eventually break. The few arguments you’ve had with Leah often resulted in you leaving the room to clear your head, and the blonde giving you the time and space to think things through.

Afterwards, when you did resolve everything, Leah often expressed how she wished you would stay and talk to her instead of running out. She said it nicely, comfortingly, but you knew a part of her was frustrated at the way you sometimes handled things. You never got a chance to resolve this issue or compromise because by then it would be time to say goodbye again– whether its because England camp has ended or you were due to separate and go back to your respective clubs. Being teammates for country and now club would mean that you both will have these issues more frequently, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. 

The sudden change in your behaviour did not go unnoticed by the Arsenal defender. Leah watches as you adjust her jacket around you, the oversized puffer jacket completely engulfing you with only the lower part of your legs and your head visible. She watches as you fidget and fuss over the jacket in your lap, a nervous habit that she is very familiar with. She can tell you probably had a lot going on and she figured it was partly due to the looming deadline of the transfer window. She knows you well enough to know that the only way you will open up is if you are given the time and space to do so. Leah isn’t usually a patient person, but for you she can be. 

She watches you silently for another moment. She swears she felt her heart skip a beat when you try and cocoon yourself further into her jacket, your eyes closed, mouth curved up into a satisfied smile– probably happy with the warmth you were now swaddled in. You didn’t know it but if you wanted her to, Leah would’ve tried to somehow turn winter into summer if it meant seeing you this happy. For now she’s just glad that her puffer jacket can offer you some warmth in the meantime. 

Soon enough, Leah was driving the both of you out of the station’s car park, the navigation flashing the directions to her flat. Usually, the blonde would be blasting music in the car, sharing all the new songs she added to her playlist recently, but she must’ve noticed how tired you are because instead of the normal r&b tunes filling the car, the blonde has turned down the volume until you can barely hear the instrumentals of the song currently playing. 

“Just sleep, y/n” You force your eyes open at Leah’s words, trying to blink the sleep away. You had been trying to stay awake, feeling bad about not being a more entertaining passenger on the long drive back to her flat, but the equal amounts of stress and excitement over the last couple of weeks seem to be catching up to you now. 

As your hand reaches up to try and rub the sleepiness away from your eyes, the defender’s hand reaches up to grab your wrist before you can do so. “Don’t rub your eyes, baby. Remember that tiktok video I sent you?”

The eye roll that follows cannot be helped. Leah had sent you a tiktok video a few days ago about the potential dangers that rubbing your eyes constantly can do– something about weakening or distorting your cornea– but that’s in extreme cases. Why that tiktok video was even on her 'for you page', you didn't want to know.  

“One little eye rub won’t damage my eyes, Lee” 

“And let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You catch her smirk illuminated by the streetlights, already anticipating whatever cocky, unhinged thing that will come out of her mouth next.  “Or else you’d miss seeing my pretty face”

You scoff, clutching her jacket tighter around you. One advantage of Leah driving you around is that it gives you the opportunity to look at your best friend, the woman you were in love with, without care.

The defender was a great driver, both hands always clutching the wheel, and always focused on the road. That meant you can stare at her without having to gaze into those blue eyes. A familiar shade of forget-me-not blues, unusually soft in the morning light, but can also reflect the deepest depths of the ocean when her emotions get the best of her. They say the eyes are the windows into the soul, and this woman was proof of that. She wore her emotions in her pretty blues, and sometimes you swore she felt the same scary, overwhelming emotions you had begun to feel for her. 

But that’s why sometimes you find it hard to stare into her eyes, fearing that that unnamed emotion in her eyes– the one that you so badly want to believe might be adoration, or care, or love– might be gone one day. 

“Piss off, Lee” Damn her and her caring nature.

The blonde risks a quick glance at you causing your breath to catch in your throat. All of a sudden, you feel a lot less sleepy and more aware of your rapidly beating heart. 

“Take a nap, baby. I’ll wake you up when we stop at the gas station” Leah turns her head back to the road for a second, surveying the road ahead of her, before those pretty blues find their way back to you.

“Give your eyes a break for a bit. Wouldn’t want you to get tired of looking at me”

You giggle at that. As if.

“I’ll never get tired of looking at you, Leah” You cheesed out– partly jokingly, but mainly because it’s true. You hope your tone disguises that last bit though. 

That being said, a short nap was beginning to sound very inviting. No sooner than later, you’ve allowed the familiar scent of her that lingers from her jacket, the music barely an audible hum, and the streetlights fading into a blur lull you to sleep. 

Already halfway asleep, you miss the blonde’s quiet “same here, baby” whispered aloud for only her ears to hear. 

——————————————

An hour or so passes and you were still fast asleep. Stopping in front of a red light, the defender takes the opportunity to spare a glance towards your sleeping form beside her. She can’t stop the corners of her lips from turning up at the sight of you, a mere puffy marshmallow lump in her passenger seat. Unable to help herself, she reaches over and lightly caresses your face with her thumb. My sleepy girl 

Soon enough it was time for a petrol station stop. Leah pulls up to a petrol station with its bright lights flickering atop a weathered sign. The cold air was tinged with the faint scent of gasoline, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the attached convenience shop. The defender unbuckles her seatbelt before reaching over towards you. Her hand finds it way under her jacket– your blanket– before she finds your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

When you start to stir, Leah runs a hand through your hair in the attempts of taming the bird’s nest-like mess that sits on top of your head. When your eyes finally open, the first thing you see is Leah already grinning at you. You feel your breath catch, like it normally does whenever the pretty blonde is looking at you like that. You silently hope that the inside of the car is dark enough that she can’t see the blush painting your cheeks. 

“Hiya. Had a good nap, yeah?” The grinning defender is still staring at you, so naturally you playfully push her face away with a palm to her cheek. 

“Don’t need your ugly mug to be the first thing I see, Lee” 

Leah laughs loudly at that. Head thrown back, mouth wide open in glee, blonde hair cascading down in loose waves that was probably the result of being put up in a Leah-style “bun” earlier that day. 

“Oi! I’ve been so good to you the entire evening– even letting you sleep and snore in my car– and this is how you repay me?” 

You let out an exaggerated gasp and look at her, unable to stop the grin that is already growing on your face. “I do not snore!” 

“Like a new born piglet, baby” 

Before you could retort, the blonde leans forward in her seat over the console and sneaks a quick kiss to your forehead. This was normal, Leah was usually so generous with her kisses for some reason, but that didn’t mean your heart didn’t flutter every time she laid one on you. “You’re cute, y/n”

You swear your heart skips a beat. Is that normal? 

“I’ve got to get petrol. There’s a shop over there, so why don’t you grab something to eat while I do this?”

You glance over at the convenience store, the promises of hot food and maybe something sweet to satisfy your cravings lately already luring you inside. You turn back to the blonde and nod, handing her back her black puffer jacket which you had essentially held hostage the entire drive. You unbuckle your seatbelt and quickly throw your hair into a loose ponytail, silently bracing yourself for the cold ahead.

Just as you were about to push the car door open, Leah pulls you back with a hand on your arm, and the next thing you know your vision is partially obstructed by a wool beanie placed on your head. “Stay warm, baby” 

Before you could thank her, the blonde has already opened the door on her side of the car and has stood up to shrug her jacket on. She gives you a quick wink before she disappears from your view, making her way to the petrol machine.

You hastily make your way inside the store, grateful for the sudden warmth it provided against the harsh cold from outside. You scan the shop and make a beeline towards the hot food section, and pick up a sausage roll. You scan the rest of the options before picking up the potato wedges for a certain blonde in mind who happens to have the food palette of a 2 year old. You walk around the store for a few more moments, picking up a bottle of Sprite, Diet Coke, a pack of hand-warmers, and two packs of prawn cocktail crisps before heading to the counter to pay. You hear the sound of the automatic doors sliding opening, the wind outside shrilling loudly in your ears, before the doors slide closed again.  

As you reach into your coat to pull out your card to pay, a familiar hand reaches around you and taps their phone against the card reader.

“Leah.” You mutter sternly, eyes narrowed at the blonde who now stood beside you. 

“Perks of having Apple Pay, baby. You would know if you actually bothered to set it up” The defender grabs the bag with your food, throwing a quick ‘thank you’ to the nice man behind the till. She grabs one of your hands in hers and pulls you towards the doors. 

“Brace yourself” Is the only warning you get before Leah pulls you through the doors and out into the cold once again. The cold is harsh against your cheeks, and you find yourself pressing yourself into the blonde’s side. She wraps an arm around you, steering you to her car. She quickly unlocks your car door first, and out of habit holds a hand out above your head so you don’t bump your head into the roof of the car. 

You both settle inside her car and buckle your seatbelts. Leah shrugs her jacket off of her shoulders and places it over your lap. “Use that. You clearly need that more than I do, Rudolph”

She quickly glances over to you, chuckling at the unamused expression on your face as she backs the car out of the petrol station. This time, you were adamant that you will sit through the rest of drive to the blonde's flat, and you did. You and Leah took turns choosing the songs to play, both of you shouting the familiar lyrics from the top of your lungs.

From the corner of your eye, you see Leah take one of her hands off the wheel and flex it open and closed repeatedly. You reckon she must be feeling cold, especially considering you’ve got her puffer blanketing you in its warmth. “Cold, Lee?”

“Hmm? ’m fine, baby. The car will warm me up soon”

You were about to argue back when you remember that you had bought a pack of hand warmers earlier. Reaching into the plastic bag, you search through it and grab the pack, ripping it open and holding one out to your blonde driver. She glances at it briefly, before she shakes her head, both hands still on the wheel. 

“I’m fine, Y/N. You need it more than I do.” 

“I’ve got another one here. It comes in a pack of two” You reach back into the bag to show her the other hand warmer. She glances towards you briefly.

“I’ll put this one under my hoodie, and you can hold onto this one” Leah watches from the corner of her eye as you open your jacket and tuck one of the hand warmers, sandwiching it in between the layers of your undershirt and your hoodie. You settle more comfortably in your seat as you feel the growing warmth spreading from the heat pack. 

“Here’s yours. Your hands are definitely cold”

“I don’t–“ 

“Don’t be so bloody stubborn, Leah.”

“Well don’t be so bloody annoying then, Y/N”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You wouldn’t be surprised if grey hairs started sprouting soon. Among all the people you could fall in love with, you somehow fell for the most stubborn woman on this planet– and you still have about an hour left of this drive. 

But you know deep down there’s also no one else you’d rather be stuck anywhere with.

“Give me your hand, Leah” You stretch a hand towards her over the middle console, palm up. She glances at it briefly, one eyebrow raised, but didn’t question you. 

The blonde took the hand nearest to you off the steering wheel and places her hand on top of yours. You gave it a squeeze, flinching slightly at the cold palm, and muttering “Your hands are fucking freezing, Lee” 

You take the hand warmer that was supposed to be for her and place it between your interlocked hands. In front of a red light, the defender beside you turns to look at both of your hands, clasped tightly together in the center console of her car. When it came to physical affection, you rarely gave it away freely. Leah was the more affectionate one between the two of you, so seeing you initiate it was a surprise to her. She knows that the warmth that she feels wasn’t coming from just the hand warmers that both of you are sharing. 

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet. Instead of the loud, boisterous music that was blasting from the car speakers earlier, the only sounds inside the car was coming from the gentle hum of the engine. You and Leah held hands for pretty much the rest of the drive, Leah only breaking your connection when she needed to turn the wheel.

“One second, baby” The blonde would say whenever she needed to make a sharp turn, her hand untangling from yours for a moment to grab the steering wheel firmly with both hands. Not a moment too soon, her hand would instinctively seek out yours from where it sits patiently waiting by the center console. Your fingers would intertwine with hers, and all was right in the world again. 

The hand warmer, which now no longer emitted any heat, was promptly tossed aside earlier. You and Leah were palm to palm, the only source of warmth against the biting cold outside was the one exchanged between your hands. The rhythmic beat of the windshield wipers matched the soft patter of raindrops, as if the evening itself conspired to provide a soothing backdrop for the last leg of your drive. 

——————————————

Soon enough the car was pulling up into the parking lot of Leah’s flat. The familiar building came into view, nestled in a quiet corner of town. The glow from the light inside some of the windows hint at the warmth within, promising respite from the biting cold of the outside. You couldn’t wait to be reunited with Leah’s warm and cosy guest bedroom, which had essentially become your home away from home during your frequent visits to London. After locking her car and making sure she didn't forget anything, Leah grabbed your gloved hand to guide you towards the entrance of her flat with one hand, whilst the other hand pulled your suitcase behind her. 

The elevator ride up to her floor was quiet, but it was the comfortable silence kind. You both were stood side by side, one gloved hand interlocked with a bare one, the only noise in the elevator came from the subtle hum of the elevator tune. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you had to break the news of your transfer to the defender.

Part of you was relieved that you can finally put an end to this whole charade, but another part of you was worried that she might feel hurt over the fact that you kept such a big thing from her. Leah was someone that valued trust and communication, and while your feelings for her could warrant an exemption, keeping something like this was a big deal. You’ve had to lie to her a few times over the past few weeks, cancelling meet ups and declining calls, using football and a busy schedule as an excuse to escape her nagging questions over your transfer. You were worried that she might feel hurt that you were essentially lying to her. 

Then there was also the bit about how this transfer might change your relationship with the blonde. Sure, she could be happy about your move to Arsenal and the fact that you were both teammates now, but what if in a few months she’ll eventually get tired of having you around constantly. Maybe she might get tired of you always being around her– not just during England camp but now at the same club. One perk about being in separate clubs was it allowed time apart and your feelings for Leah “cool down”– or at least you hoped it would. But then one meet up with her and your heart was rapidly beating against your chest again.

Part of you was also worried that the only reason why you and Leah stayed friends for this long was because being apart from each other and being at separate clubs gave you so much to talk about once you were together. You feared that the only reason why your friendship stood the test of time was because the time apart added to the excitement of being together again eventually. Conversations and face-time calls were endless and exciting because the two of you made sure to share all the mundane and the ordinary with each other because the other wasn’t there to experience it. Now that the both of you will be together more often, you were worried that that excitement and that spark will eventually fizzle out.

They always say “absence makes the heart grow fonder” and for a long time you were okay with it, but what happens now? 

First of all, thank you for all the love and support for the first part of this fic. I hope you know I much I appreciated all the reblogs, likes and comments <333

Secondly, I know I said I would get the second part of this fic up last week but whilst I was doing my final reading before posting it, I ended up not like the direction the fic was going, so I redid the entire thing lol

I like this one a lot better and I hope you do too (also, note I added 1 more part to this so it is now a 4 part fic)

Hope you're looking forward to the next bit– I know I am!

The weather lately has been sunny and bright skies on my side of the world. Sending you a little slice of sunshine :)

-- kisses, butter.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do one for Checo with wife reader? He's not getting enough love. Just something fluff and romantic. You decide how it goes. Thanks!!

No es suficiente! Sergio Perez x ActressWife! Reader

Plot: Sergio having just married you wanted to show you of in the Red Bull Garage, but you feel so happy to be back after being so busy in your own career that everyone is dying to talk to you and someone gets a little jealous.

It was your first time back in the paddock for around a year. You'd been away for a large period of time, between filming for an up and coming blockbuster and being in an ongoing TV show you had a tight schedule and only was able to see your husband when he had breaks.

He helped you scan your paddock pass and then placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Are you excited?" he asks you as he looked over to you, the media noticed the pair of you walk through and were quick to snap pictures of your return to the paddock.

"Yes, I cannot wait to see everyone! I haven't seen Lance or Max in ages!" You admit, knowing you hadn’t really seen his friends in a while.

“Good!”

Before you know it you’ve been thrusted back into the world of F1, all the cameras and the people wanting to talk, the smells coming from the hospitalities and the cars. It was an introverts nightmare.

However, Sergio always knew you were a people person despite your social battery draining quicker than most people’s. You loved the hustle and bustle life that came with being on track and with Sergio.

Whether you were off chatting to Will Buxton about his latest Drive to Survive meme, or hunting down Crofty timo interrupt his grid walk, or chatting to the mechanics in the garage about the car, to finalise it all up speaking with Christian about Max and Sergio.

Today was a little different, you were feeling anxious where it was your first day back in a while. However the minute you and your husband walked into the garage he’d been whisked away along with Max by their race engineers towards the big bosses office.

You and Kelly not having seen each other in so long decided it would be nice considering it was media day and there was no actual racing if you guys rounded up some of the other wags and did a little shopping.

You guys ventured from Red Bull to some of the other paddocks on the hunt for the other girlies. You stumbled upon Lily, Alexandra, Rebecca and Kika who all decided they were down for some shopping to save the boredom that was media day.

You guys hit Milan central getting a train down from Monza. There were some fans around who excitedly asked for pictures. You guys all obliged before getting on with the day and going into the different high end stores.

By the end, you guys had taken the phrase ‘shop till you drop’ far to literally. You all travelled back to the hotel that you were staying in courtesy of the team in which their partner drove for. The bags were placed on the coffee table and sofa in the living area of the room.

Kelly had a separate room for her and P because she was doing a fashion show in Milan on the Monday and Tuesday after the races, so she had a lot of cases with her because of the clothes and shoes and just general space she would need. So when she invited you back for a girlie sleepover with her and P you couldn’t decline.

Sending a quick text to your husband who was still at the racetrack you left the room straight to Kelly’s which was only a few doors down. P answered the door which to Kelly’s dismay who was currently in the bathroom taking her makeup off before she could even get to the door.

“We don’t answer the door, it could have been a stranger Penelope!” She lightly scolds, the younger girl not caring to much and pulling you into a hug.

“Awwww hello P” you sigh hugging her back beofre picking her up and placing her on your hip.

“Are you going to let me do your hair tonight while we watch a Disney movie!” You ask and Ps eyes light up with excitement.

“Let me guess, the little mermaid?” You ask her and she nods furiously going towards the controller in the room to pull up what you assumed would be Disney +.

You spent the rest of the night with the daughter mother duo, doing facials, watching films and ordering an obscene amount of desserts from room service.

The next day you woke up and went to your room to see if Sergio would join you for breakfast but the room was empty, bed all screwed up and unmade showing you your husband had in fact come home last night.

You sit alone for breakfast which was nice, just to be able to think on your own thoughts for some time. Most of them being about your new movie, or the TV show and how to develop your character.

You took and Uber to the race track not wanting to be rudely late for FP1, wanting to support your husband. As you got there, running through the paddocks gates and mumbling profanities at the electronic gate which wouldn’t let you in after 4 attempts on your pass, you spotted Sergio.

“Hola, good night with Kelly?” He smiles at you, kissing your cheek lightly. You nod and open your mouth about to say something but his race engineer calls out for him pointing towards the garage entrance.

“Go, don’t want to be late on the job now!” You home and he just laughs lightly shaking his head before turning away and running out the the garage where his car was.

You stood with Kelly watching your boys drive. It felt like forever that Sergio was in the car, but again the minute he got out he was whisked away to a debrief with what went wrong with the car.

That was how the rest of the weekend went, whenever you had free time it felt like he was being taken away for important meeting, interviews and various media commitments and when he was free you were either on the phone with work or had organised to do something with the girls because you thought he was busy at that time but due to scheduling mixups he was actually free and refused to let you cancel on the girls.

It got to Sunday night after the race. Sergio had come in P2 behind Max and with Carlos just behind him. He’d had a great drive and you couldn’t have been prouder to celebrate his podium with him.

You were in the hotel room together, you’d just gotten out the shower and into night wear, he was laying on the bed, in his pijama pants and shirtless like normal.

You jumped onto the bed curling up into his side pulling him so as much as your skin was touching his.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you for ages mi amor” you voice before tilting your head that was laying in his chest to look up up him.

“Mmmmm No es suficiente!” He mumbles looking down at you. (It’s not sufficient!)

“What isn’t?” You ask perplexed.

“The time I had with you this weekend, not enough of it. I brought you here to spend more time with you and everyone didn’t want to see us together” he sighs pulling you closer with a pout on his face. On camera your husband didn’t seem like the clingy type but boy of boy was he.

“Argh you big baby, I’m not filming for another 5 weeks so your stuck with me all this time. This week was just unfortunate” you smile pulling him into a soft kiss which he quickly returns.

“God I missed this, just you” he smiles softly before pulling you into another kiss.

“Is this making up for it?” You offer smirking slightly knowing now that you were giving him the attention he was craving he was happy.

“Mmm im considering kidnapping you, so you have to spend all your time with me!” He groans pulling you over so your straddling him and laying in his chest on top of him.

“But who will be the lead in your current favourite TV show?” You gasp playfully.

“No way! Ellen Pompeo is leaving Greys?” He teases, knowing it would tule you up. You slap his shoulder lightly looking down at him.

“Mmmm im sure they could find someone to replace you if I kept you all for myself!” He teases again and you laugh this time.

“Mmmm and I’m sure if I kidnapped you Red Bull would too!” You tease back and he gasps in mock shock hand to his chest.

“Well seeing as we both seem to be staying respectively in our professions… I suggest we order room service!” You smile again, pulling him in for a kiss. He nods, rolling you off and getting up towards where the phone is on the desk. You watch as he used his hands to motion around as he talks to the receptionist on the phone.

You were so completely and utterly in love.

A/N: short and sweet! Hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

[poppadom0912]

Holding on

Warnings: Guns, shootings, blood/injuries, hospitals and lots of angst.

Summary: When going to visit your older brothers, things suddenly take a turn for the worst.

Submitted by @lokiswife18

A/N: I'm so sorry, this was sent in ages ago but with some free time now, I can finally get all of these done. There's multiple medical inaccuracies so I apologise in advance. I somehow ended up writing over 2k words, so this is a long one. Hope you enjoy this, it feels like i haven't written angst in a hot minute so this was super fun to do. Enjoy!!

Today's dinner had been planned for months now and every single time, something came up and it had to be postponed.

First, Jay was unexpectedly gone undercover, and you and Will didn't want him to 'miss out'. The second time, you were pulled in last minute to supervise the annual school camping trip. The third time Will had been unavailable to what you guys later found out was a massive pile up at the hospital that he didn't reply till two days later. And the other four times after that were all results of mainly your brothers work lives getting in the way.

Today had been the day where nothing would go wrong. You'd all messaged earlier on and nothing had come up to change your plans. There was going to be nothing in the way to stop this dinner from taking place tonight.

The high school you worked at was having their parent teacher meetings today, your last one being half an hour before the reservation Jay booked.

Your work best friend who you always drove with had a later meeting and so you were taking the train, your make up in your bag. Your clothes were good enough for restaurant you three frequented growing up.

Waving the other teachers goodnight, wishing them luck with the remainder of their parents, you made your way to the train station, phone in hand as you updated your brothers that you had left work.

It was dark out, the sun had almost fully set, and it was at that time during the autumn when the sun started setting earlier. But the station was close enough and having a detective as a brother meant that he taught you things that would be useful just in case.

Rummaging through your bag looking for your card, you cursed yourself for how messy your things were and with the addition of your makeup, searching for your card that wasn't in its purse was very difficult.

Stopping in your tracks, you huffed in frustration at not being able to find your card. Taking your bag off your shoulder, you used your dominant hand to dig deep. You definitely put it in this morning, you never left the house without it.

Finally finding the card, you resumed your walking, rounding the corner from the train station when you heard very familiar popping sounds went off.

Ducking around the corner, you stood still as you waited for the shooting to pass. Your hands trembled slightly as you dialled 911.

But before you could press the call button, a wave of immense pain washed over you.

Time seemed to move in slow motion. Your surroundings all started to blur; the shootings no longer audible to as a ringing sound drowned your ears.

Following such intense pain was numbness. Your phone and card fell from hand, pins and needles enveloping your fingers as you lost all feeling in your entire body but your chest.

In the far back of your mind, you could hear Will's words from a night he taught you and Jay first aid. At the distant thought, you tried moving your hands to put pressure on your chest, but nothing moved.

Your breathing was now shallow, gasping out of rhythm the more you struggled. Everything was becoming so blurred to the point the flowers on your dress were no longer visible.

Coughing increased your pain tenfold; blood was now trickling out your mouth. With whatever consciousness remained, your panic sank in even further.

What had been a good day at work and a supposed even better evening spent with your brothers had taken a sudden turn for the worst when you'd been caught in the crossfire.

Here you were, bleeding out in the dark in the middle of the street with no one nearby.

Forming any sort of thoughts became even more difficult the more time passed. While thinking about what was going to happen next, your inevitable thought were your brothers who were completely oblivious.

And they were the last thing on your mind when you were no longer able to fight against your heavy eyelids.

*****

Jay arrived first. Everyone was still at the precinct but after asking very politely, Voight let him off early. Jay was sat at the reserved table for twenty minutes before Will showed up, apologising for his tardiness as surgery ran over a little longer than expected.

They had put off ordering till you arrived, only asking for drinks as they waited for you.

The first ten minutes they simply thought you got caught up with more parents but then ten turned into twenty and they were concerned.

You were usually very punctual so being this late was out of the ordinary but to also not tell them in advance that you were going to be late. Something was clearly wrong.

Confused, they both took turns messaging and calling you, both of which you didn’t reply or answer.

Now they were concerned.

Luckily, all three of you were sharing your locations with each other after leaning from many past experiences. Quickly checking your whereabouts, they found you not too far away from your school near the train station but looking at your movements for five minutes, you remained put.

Without any words, both brothers were out their chairs and apologising to their waiter who had been so patient with them. Getting into Jay’s truck – Will being dropped of by Natalie – they drove towards your location, their concern transitioning into anxiety at the unknown.

It didn’t take too long to get there. Jay parking his truck on the side and Will getting out without waiting for the car to stop.

Walking around the corner, they weren’t too sure what to expect but it definitely wasn’t this.

There you were, unconscious, leaning against the side of a building, legs sprawled out forward and your head tilted to the side, blood trickling out your mouth. Your hands were limp around your abdomen where your floral dress was clearly ruined, drowning in blood.

Instantly, Will sprung forward, kneeling besides you as he called your name several time. You never responded nor did you even move an inch.

“Y/N? You with me?” As Will switched into ‘doctor mode’, Jay wasted no time in calling it in, relaying his badge number and stressing the importance of this emergency to dispatch before calling Voight, knowing the man and a few of his colleagues were still working.

Placing his fingers on the side of your neck, Will tensed up as he felt your weak and irregular pulse. Swallowing harshly, Will took inventory of every injury, not matter how big or small.

He addressed the obvious first, your chest that was still bleeding profusely. Taking off his jumper, he ripped it in half, wrapping one around your chest as tight as possible to try stop the bleeding. You had lost so much already and even with the clothing around your chest, his jumper was already soaking in so much blood.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Will apologised before tightening a knot, wincing when you finally whimpered. Your whimper was ever so soft that if he wasn’t so focused on you, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“Hey- Y/N, open your eyes for me please.” Will’s resolve was struggling at the sight of his little sister bleeding out and there only being so much he could do to help. But Jay, he felt even more helpless, standing back only being able to watch as his brother did his best to help with so little resources.

Surveying the area, Jay tried looking for anything out of the ordinary, but it was fully dark now, no people out as they all got ready for bed.

Turning on his phone flashlight, Jay easily caught sight of several stray bullets littering the road and pavement. With this new lighting, you looked even worse for wear, your bloody chest even more alarming now that they could actually get a good look at you.

“Shit. Will what- “

“I’ve got her Jay.” Will said firmly, looking him in the eye but his own were watery. That didn’t assure Jay as much as he wanted it to.

All of a sudden, before Jay could say anything, Will’s head snapped back towards you, his fingers going back to your pulse before moving even more forward, ducking his ear near your nose.

Will’s fast movements could only mean one thing. Before Will could even do anything, Jay already knew what was happening.

You weren’t breathing anymore.

Laying you flat on the pavement, Will winced as he placed his hands on your chest, apologising before he started chest compressions.

Each compression produced more blood, Will’s hands absolutely coated and dropping in your blood. It made him feel sick.

“Jay, I need you to take over.” Will said after some time had passed, his arms slowly starting to aching, knowing he had to take a minute before he could continue.

Kneeling on the opposite side of Will on the other side of your body, Will counting him in before he took over.

As soon as Will’s hands were off your chest, they were immediately replaced with Jay’s, almost as if it wasn’t two different people.

Will’s fingers were sticky, your blood dripping down his fingers, glued under his nails and coating his sleeves. It felt so surreal.

“Alright Jay, swap back with me on three.” Will told his brother after two minutes, not wanting him to get too tired either.

Jay’s hands were in the same state when he stopped.

“Will, its so much blood.” His voice was shaky, reality setting in as Will continued chest compressions when nothing changed.

Will only looked up at Jay with a certain glint in his eyes that he hadn’t seen since their dad died-

“Will she’s-“

The blaring sirens cut him off, blue and red lights blinding them as the appeared around the corner.

Jay got up, walking towards the newcomers when he recognised the cars in front.

“Jay, what happened?” Hank asked, approaching his detective first. His eyes clocking Jay’s bloody hands before asking “Who-“

“It’s Y/N.” Jay said, leading Intelligence and the paramedics towards the scene. “She’s been shot. I think she got caught in a shooting- she’s lost so much blood and she’s not breathing anymore but there’s no culprits anywhere and-“

“Jay, it’s okay, we’ve got this.” Hank physically had to stop the younger man, looking him straight in the eye. “We’re gonna get them, I promise.”

Hank never made promises, it was sworn off by every first responder but everyone knew that Voight never broke his promises.

“Alright Desmond, on my count I need you to take over for me.” Will said, taking charge as soon as the familiar paramedics joined him.

Instantly complying, the paramedic took over the compressions, letting Will sit back on his toes. “We need to shock her, she’s gone without a pulse for nearly thirteen minutes.”

Both paramedics looked up at him knowingly, their sombre faces ones which Will purposefully ignored even with the bitterness heavy on his tongue.

“Will I’m sorry but…”

*****

You were now connected to the portable monitor in the ambulance and to hear the repeating beeps, signalling there was no heartbeat only made things more real. But Will hadn’t given up, even with the sympathetic looks he received from the two paramedics.

Jay had joined them in the back of the ambulance, leaving the crime scene in the capable hands of Intelligence and with the promise that he’d be kept in the loop.

In what felt like recording breaking speed, they arrived at Med. Wasting no time, the stretcher was pulled out the ambulance, Desmond swapping places with Will on top of the stretcher over your body, who now took over the chest compressions.

“Maggie, is Baghdad open?” Will asked, raising his voice as they rolled into the ED, his back to all his colleagues.

“It’s all yours. Connor, Ethan!” The two men were already moving before Maggie had even called out their names.

“She’s been shot in the chest, the bullets still inside. Pulse was weak before it was lost, been doing CPR ever since and was shocked twice in between.”

“How long Will?” Connor asked, looking at the redhead worriedly, eyeing the bloody states of all three Halstead siblings. “Will, how long has she been unconscious?”

But Will never replied. “Ethan, come here and take over.”

The Korean shared a knowingly glance with the trauma surgeon but obliged anyways.

Stepping back, Will stood besides Maggie who was hooking you up to all the monitors necessary.

“The bleeding finally stopped en route.”

“When was she shot?” Connor asked, surveying the rest of your body for any other bullet wounds.

“We, we don’t know.” Will’s voiced cracked from the emotion and uncertainty. “Gosh, it’s been over fourteen minutes since.”

Will physically couldn’t find it in himself to finish the sentence.

“Okay, paddles Maggie.”

*****

Both brothers were forced out the treatment room and Will could not convince Maggie to change her mind one bit.

“She’s in good hands. Ethan and Connor will be in surgery for hours so I need you two to rest.”

Will and Jay were way too tense, their faces grim at the unknown future of their younger sister.

“Let’s wash your hands first and get into a change of clothes.” Maggie was as gentle as she would be with kids, smiling softly as she helped the brothers somewhat get their shit together.

The blood wouldn’t wash away. It remained stuck under their nails, speckles stubborn like glitter. Knowing your blood was on their hands, it was gut wrenching.

Will always kept a change of clothes in his locker. He and Jay rid of their stained shirts with whatever was left in the locker but even in a new change of clothes and washed up, they still felt disgusting.

“Will…” Jay softly called his name, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “What did they mean about not breathing for more than fourteen minutes?”

The doctor screwed his eyes shut at his younger brothers question. His tone insinuating that he knew but was in denial and wanted confirmation that his suspicions were wrong.  

“There’s-“ Will struggled to face reality, ripping off the bandage for his brother. “There’s a very low chance she makes it. And, and if she does there will be consequences- like, really bad side effects.”

Jay clenched his jaw, turning his head away to look out the doctors lounge window into the surprisingly mellow emergency department.

“We broke our promise.”

“I know.”

“What are we meant to do?”

Several beats passed before Jay received a reply, one in which caused silent tears to finally start falling.

“I don’t know.”

[jezabelle9299]

Halloween S.R x Fem!Reader

Overture- You and Spencer are the only ones wearing costumes in the bureau this Halloween, he just got called in for a case, and you're dropping some things off for your roommate (Y/R/N). I want it to be fall so bad, it's 90 degrees where I live and my car does not have A/C. Also reader is a weeping angel from doctor who, which is essentially a creature that while it is being perceived by anyone looks like a statue (Specifically of an angel usually), very freaky, but reader's costume is a little more cutesy. (They're also only in the second iteration of the show, but as far as I'm concerned Spencer and reader are still matching.)

C-Ws- It's all fluff, there's a kiss? Teasing, reader is referred to as a girl, wears makeup, heels, dresses, etc, holding hands, they're like in love almost immediately.

Your roommate forgot the paperwork she needed. Again. This time she called you while you were on your way out the door to your halloween plans, begging you for a stack of files she definitely was not supposed to take home, that were nevertheless on your dining room table. This was far from the first time she’d asked you to bring her something, but it was the first time she said she wouldn’t meet you in the lobby or the coffee shop around the block. She was, in her words, “Chained to her desk”. So she required you to actually check in with security, and bring her files to her desk. The lovely kicker being that you were already in full costume.

She shut down your contesting with the promise of making her amazing pumpkin bread when she got home.So you swallowed your ego as you took one last look in the mirror. Your costume was cute, verging on sexy, but dorky enough to keep it from fully reaching that point. You were a weeping angel from Doctor Who. You were in a short gray dress with a stone pattern, gray tights with accompanying high heels, and gray lace gloves with don’t blink embroidered on them. The look was completed with some small angel wings and makeup that was smokey enough to tow the line between sexy and spooky. 

You walked into the building files in hand, up to the security desk. After picking up your visitor pass, you made your way to the elevators. Safely alone in the silver box, the doors started to close. That is, until someone turns on their side to slide through them. He’s exhausted, after clearly running through the lobby somehow not spilling the coffee in his hand. He was also in costume, giving you huge relief after passing all of the serious suit-clad agents in the lobby.

You smiled at his choice in costume, he was dressed as the 4th doctor, making your costumes kind of match. The doors closed once again and you stood side by side in silence. He was looking at you, almost like he was trying to figure out what you were. You expected this of course, but he clearly watched the show. Until he cleared his throat as you were approaching the 2nd floor. 

“I’m sorry-Hi-sorry I just, I have to ask. Are you… a weeping angel? You smiled at that. He did get it. But you pushed down some of your excitement to make an attempt at a cool headed response.

“I am! I’ll be very disappointed if that was an odd pickup line and not a guess.” His eyes got as big as saucers, and he put his hands out like he was trying to stop a runaway train, still clutching a coffee cup in his right hand, but doing the motion all the same. 

“No!-That’s-It was a guess. It’s a great costume.” 

“Thank you, I like yours too, a doctor dressed as the doctor.” You said that referencing the ID tag hanging from his bag, but he looked.. Skeptical? 

“How did you know I was a doctor?” He was just too cute. He worked at the FBI and couldn’t seem to gather that his name tag was giving him away? You just gave a small giggle and pointed to the plastic. When he looked down confused, he came back up embarrassed. Then the elevator did a final chime as the doors opened to the 5th floor.

“I guess on that note, this is my stop. Will I see you around the building?” He looked hopeful in a way that made you wish the elevator hadn’t stopped just so you could spend a few more minutes with him. That is, until you realized you also needed to get off at this floor. 

“Actually, could you help me? I’m supposed to drop some stuff off for my roommate, but I don’t know where her desk is. It's somewhere on this floor.” 

“Definitely-sure, what’s her name I can-” He was cut off by a man who was the epitome of the phrase ‘Tall, dark, and handsome.’ Not your type, but very classically handsome.

“Well, well, well, pretty boy who did you bring to work?” He reached his hand out to you, but you were busy with some extreme embarrassment, feeling even more out of place than you had in the lobby. The man next to you was’t better, his face reading as exhausted and humiliated. You eventually pulled your mouth shut where it was agape and offered your hand back to him. 

“Im Y/N, I'm actually just dropping some things off for my roommate, Y/R/N. Dr.Reid and I only met in the elevator, just similar tastes in costumes I guess!” Now the embarrassment that was once dawning on your face, dawned on him as he realized his error.

“Apologies for the presumption, I’m Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer.” 

You just couldn’t stop the words that came out next. “No worries, I should be so lucky to accompany Dr.Reid.” Derek raised his eyebrows in a small expression of shock and clapped a now beet red Spencer on the shoulder. 

“Well it was lovely to meet you Y/N, I would love to leave you two to it believe me but we’ve got a case.” You forced yourself to look Spencer in the eye again. 

“It was nice to meet you Derek and you too Dr. Reid.” Derek gave you a smile and a nod as he turned back to head up a small staircase, but Dr. Reid didn’t follow him. 

“You can call me Spencer, Dr. Reid is too formal for someone wearing this silly of a costume.” 

“I happen to like your costume, Spencer. And as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, your boss is staring at us.” you gestured to the dark haired stern man in a suit looking down at you from the door to the conference room. 

“Happy Halloween Spencer, I hope I’ll see you around.” You turned back towards the clusters of desks and started looking for the one your roommate was sitting in. It didn’t take long to find her despite the hustle and bustle still crowding the floor at this late hour. When you spotted her she was fixated on even more paperwork, not noticing you until you approached her desk. 

“Thank you so much, you are my savior. I promise that pumpkin bread is coming your way.” You laughed at the unnecessary seriousness with which she said that. 

“Thank you, and it’s no biggie since I was going out anyway. But I do need to ask you something. Spencer– Dr. Reid, is he single?”

“Wow, you’ve been here 5 minutes and you’ve already found your dork match. I saw him walking with Hotch a second ago, you’re even matching!” She was keeled over and cackling, when you stomped your heeled foot to get her to stop and answer your question. She pretended to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes just to rub salt in the wound. 

“Ok, ok, yes he’s single as far as I know, but I’m not setting you up. If you’d like to do something about your freaky little crush, you can leave a note on his desk.” She pointed to a neatly kept desk, piled high with books on every subject. 

“They have a case, so he’ll probably be out of town for a few days, but he might see it before they leave. No go on, do, and get out of here. I do still have a job to do, and no offense, but you’re kind of making me look ridiculous by association.” She tossed a notepad with a purple pen clipped to it towards you. You grumbled a quick thanks, still annoyed by the dig at your costume. But you jotted down a quick note, hopeful he’d see it sooner rather than later,, because it would be all the more humiliating if he’d forgotten about you before he saw it. 

Spencer, 

I only got to talk to you for a few minutes but I’d like to get to know you more in a place with less costumes and government agents watching over us. Call me if you’d like to go out sometime ♥️ 

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

You drew a small pair of angel wings as a signature, then left it on his desk on your way back to the elevators. 

When Spencer left the round table, with only 30 minutes before he needed to be on the plane he made a beeline to Y/R/N’s desk approaching cautiously with a small wave. 

“Hi– Sorry to bother you, but I was talking to your roommate earlier, and I was wondering–” She cut him off, putting her hand up to stop him in his tracks. 

“I’ll tell you what I told Y/N. I’m not getting involved in this cute freaky little thing you guys have going on. Check your desk, go on your case, thank me later.” He turned back towards his desk, made it about two steps before turning back. This time with a hopeful look on his face.

“What you told her? Did she– Did she ask about me?” Y/R/N just rolled her eyes and refocused on her paperwork. 

“Goodbye Dr.Reid.” She left no room for argument, so he turned back to his desk, later finding your note neatly placed on top of some files. He read it twice, just to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming. He felt like he was in a high school movie, with the prettiest girl passing him a note in class. He was just getting lost in that train of thought, when he saw the rest of the team heading for the elevator bank, ready for the case. He’d gotten so distracted mooning over your note, he’d run out of time to change. He’d have to make his best attempt to get into his regular clothes in the small airplane bathroom.

It was a fast case, a spree killer in Georgia they were able to catch by sunrise the next day. He’d re-read your note maybe 20 times in less than 12 hours, even though he remembered every word, garnering significantly more teasing from Derek, along with the rest of the team after he caught them up. He could tell they were all happy for him though, despite the teasing. 

When they landed back in Quantico he swiftly deboarded the plane, and headed home paperwork in hand, to be done later. He’d typically do it at his desk, but he wanted to call you with minimal chance for interruption.

It was barely 6am. It was your day off, and your phone was still ringing. Normally you’d check and see if you could ignore it, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to look before answering. Luckily you didn’t drink last night, so you weren’t hungover, but even without that added layer of discomfort you were not in the mood to be up and talking to people. So you grumbled a dreary hello into the line, eyes still closed. 

“Hey– Hi, I’m sorry, I woke you up.I just– we just got back from that case and I wanted to know if you wanted to..go out? Tonight? If you don’t have other plans, that is.” You perked up at the sound of his voice, and fully shot up in your bed when he asked you out. You weren’t tired anymore. 

“I’d love to! I actually have tickets to this  re-showing of the original Frankenstein, if you'd like to go with me?” You could hear a shaky exhale coming from his side of the line. 

“That sounds great! What time should I pick you up?”

“8 o’clock would be perfect.”

“Awesome–I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.” 

“Ok, bye Spencer. Now go get some rest? I’m assuming you haven’t slept yet?” You were sure he could hear the smile in your voice. 

“You would be correct. I’ll do that, and I’ll see you tonight?” You said your goodbyes, hung up, and squealed into your pillows. You were up for good now, but luckily that gave you more time to plan. You wandered to the kitchen to make your roommate some of the expensive coffee you usually saved for special occasions as a bribe for her to break her silence about Spencer. She told you he was a literal genius, a fact that did not help your nervousness. She also told you he was a behavioral analyst, that he didn’t like touch, and that he was from Vegas. That was all she’d tell you before heading out the door a half hour early, while denying any further questions. 

Then you threw on some sweats, removed the last bit of makeup that was clinging on from the night before and headed out the door. You got another coffee, before picking up some of the things you needed around the house, in addition to things that would help you feel ready for your date. You’d gone on a few, but not enough to feel like you knew what to expect, and you were usually focused on making sure the person you were out with didn’t think you were dorky or weird, but that was kind of out the window already. 

You were already supposed to go to lunch with some of your friends, so you chose to ask their advice. They were the only people you could really trust with that sort of thing, but that didn’t stop you from immediately looking up every trashy advice column you could find online, most of which were filled with categorically horrible advice, but it was a great way to kill time. 

Once it was all said and done, you decided to start getting ready 3 hours early, taking a long shower, spending almost a half hour getting your eyeliner to be perfectly even, instead of the sort-of even you usually settled for. You threw on a comfortable skirt, with a form fitting sweater and some matching boots to keep you warm in the cold theater. Ultimately you were glad you got ready early, as it was still 10 till 8 when Spencer was knocking on your door. He looked petrified. In a good way?

“Wow– you look, wow. I’m–uh sorry I’m so early. I was just–really excited for this.” You smiled, and gave yourself a little internal high five that you picked the right outfit. 

“It’s ok, I’m really excited too.” Then you gave yourself a second to really look at him, no costumes this time. His hair was different–good different. He was dressed really nice too, in a polka dot button up, with a purple sweater vest, and a black tie tucked into it crooked. At first he was staring back at you, studying you as you were him, until some insecurity crept onto both of your faces at the close observation. You straightened your posture as much as you could, and asked if he was ready. When he gave a shaky exhale and a resounding yes, he walked you from your apartment door with a hesitant, almost hovering touch on your lower back before arriving at his car, only removing his hand as he opened the door for you. 

He played classical music, and you talked about your days, his case, and your Halloween plans from the previous evening. When you arrived at the theater his hand once again found your lower back, until you got in the concessions line, when he dropped it to brush your wrist before looking to your face. 

“Is this…alright?” He moved closer to clasp your hands together as you smiled up at him. 

“It’s more than ok, although I am kind of surprised.” You maintained your smile so he would know it wasn’t nervousness or reluctance, but confusion painted his face at the perceived contradiction. 

“Y/R/N said that you weren’t a big fan of touch with people you don’t know very well.” 

“She said that?”

Oh. I guess that’s not something someone would say out of the blue. 

“Yeah I sort of–asked about you. Is that too weird?” He blushed at that and a little of your anxiety dissipated. 

“I don’t think it’s weird, I tried to ask her about you but she sent me away so I could find your note. Which was definitely better, by the way.” The idea of him liking your note sent you into the stratosphere. 

“She wouldn’t tell me anything about you either at first, which is why I wrote the note. Which I’m glad you liked, I was worried it was too dorky. But I got her to tell me a little bit about you by bribing her with coffee this morning.” He laughed a little at that, and you realized how easy it was with him. I mean not that you were particularly experienced, but you were certain they weren’t usually this natural. You were pulled from spiraling into that train of thought when you realized there was only one person ahead of you in line, and Spencer spoke. 

“What would you like? I think they have most of the regular snack and candy things, but they might have real food if you’re hungry. I’ve never actually been to this theater before, I didn’t know they did re-showings here.”

“Me neither, I only found out about this because I saw something for it online. But a cherry coke would be great. And if you’re sure you don’t mind my germs we could share some popcorn?” 

“Popcorn sounds great.” And without a second thought he kissed your hands where they were laced together. He was just about to horrifiedly ask you if he took it too far, when you giggled and smiled like there was nowhere else you’d rather be, and no one else you’d rather be with. Truthfully there wasn’t.

You got your concessions from the apathetic teenager behind the counter, and quickly found your seats in the back of the theater. You’d gotten there well before the movie started, so Spencer told you all of the fun facts he could think of. And as shocked as you were that he knew them, he was even more surprised he’d found someone to listen to them. 

After sitting in one spot for so long, you were starting to feel the exhaustion from this morning creep back in. Emboldened by the fact your hands were still clasped, you decided to lay your head against his arm. His button-up was surprisingly soft and you had to fight the urge to fully rest the side of your face on him, in an effort to not get makeup on his mostly-white shirt. He relaxed into your touch immediately, giving you the validation you needed that it was ok. 

When you left the theater, and climbed into his car once again, you talked, but the conversation was decidedly less nervous. You talked about your friends, your job, and your family, and he talked about the coworkers he loved as family. When you arrived back at home he walked you to the door. Had it been anyone else you would have assumed that was a ploy to stay the night, but you felt like you’d known Spencer much longer than you had, and were certain that was not why. So you let him, and when you reached the door, his hand finding yours once again, he pulled you in for the best first kiss. 

His lips were a little bit chapped, you’d seen him biting his inner lip a few times when he got especially bashful, so you kind of expected it, but his hands found your face, and his touch was so reassuring it melted all of your nerves away. When he pulled away, you were both beet red and smiling. 

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” 

“I’d like that, as long as you don’t have to go away for work.” You were on cloud nine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up for a second date to happen tomorrow, his work schedule was unpredictable, and you wanted to be as prepared for that as possible.

“Dear god, I hope not. Tomorrow already feels far away. I’ll make reservations and I’ll take you to dinner? When would be an alright time to pick you up?” You wouldn’t usually like someone offering to drive you twice in a row, but Spencer didn’t even sound like he was offering, it was just a given. 

“I get off work at 6, so I could be ready at 7?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Goodnight Y/N” And with that he placed another kiss on your hand as you said goodnight, before he let go, and headed back to the parking lot. 

[talkfastlibrary]

Soft & Sweet–Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of cramps, period symptoms, no blood mentions, soft!jake

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

Jake would like to think he’s become a sort of expert on you over the course of the months you’ve been living with him. He knows you snooze your alarm at least three times before waking up and if you snooze it four times that means you’ll roll over and snuggle on him. He knows how you take your coffee and that you immediately change into comfy clothes when you’re home from work. 

He makes sure to keep popcorn in stock and hot cocoa in the pantry because it’s a comfort thing for you at night before bed. Being an expert on you and also being surrounded by women growing up, he knew exactly when your period was coming around. 

The week before it happened you’d be a bit snippy with him and crave a multitude of things. The few days leading into it left you being extra affectionate with him and you’d smother his cheek, jawline, and neck in kisses while his hand would rub at your lower back. The first couple days of your period were spent in pain (even though you tried to hide it from him) and he’d make sure a heating pad was available. 

While he was gathering his things from the locker room after a flight simulation, a notification dinged on his phone. It was the period app he downloaded so he would be prepared signaling that today would be Day One. All this week you were being feisty and would sleep in a tank top and your underwear because you got so hot at night. 

Jake lifts a light blue bag from the bottom of his locker that has a stuffed brown bear inside that can be heated up in the microwave for cramps and comfort. 

“What’s that?” Rooster asks, nodding towards the bag. “Is it Sugar’s birthday?”

“No, I bought this a month ago. It’s a stuffed animal that can be heated in the microwave,” Jake explains.

“Why would you want it to be warm?”

“It’s to help with period cramps, Rooster.”

“Wait, really? I should get one for Serena, she shrinks into a ball every month from the pain…” Rooster purses his lips and pulls out his phone. “Can you send me the info?”

***

Jake gets home after you because he picked up extra candy and other favorites of yours. When he carried all the bags into the kitchen he tried listening for the TV or your music playing but all he heard was silence. He leaves the grocery bags on the counter but makes sure to grab the gift bag with the brown bear inside on his way to find you. 

First, he looks in your bedroom and bathroom just in case you wanted to be alone for a bit and both are empty. Next stop is his bedroom and you’re standing in the middle of his closet with a hanger and your sweater in your hands, your tank top pulled up a little on your back. 

“Hey, Sugar, sorry I’m late. I stopped–Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” he notices your shoulders are shaking, broken sobs coming from your mouth. He drops the bag on the floor spinning you around. His heart ached seeing your eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet and smeared black from your eye makeup as you cried. 

As soon as you see him you drop the hanger and sweater so you can fold into his chest, his arms wrap around you tightly. He hushes a kiss into your hair holding you while you cry your day and emotions out. After a few moments your arms fall slack, your sniffling becomes more frequent and Jake knows you’re done crying. At least for now. 

“C’mere,” he keeps his arms around you as he leads you to his bed. He sits you down then kneels in front of you, his thumbs wiping away the remaining tears and makeup from your cheeks. “Talk to me, what happened?”

The words tumble out of you about all the things that went wrong today. Reynolds was sick so you told him to stay home and you drove Jake’s spare car to work but then was stuck by a train and you were already running late. Then customers' orders were backed up, some had not so nice words to share with you, you and Serena got into a little bit of a fight. Your stomach hurt all day. 

“And then, to top it all off,” you sniff wiping at your nose.

“Hang on,” he pats your knees and gets a tissue from your side of the bed. “Here, blow your nose, baby.” 

You do as he says, it hurts your head because of the pressure from crying but you can at least breathe a bit better now. Jake takes the tissue and tosses it into the small wastebasket next to the bed.

“Thank you. To top it all off, when I was changing in the closet, my bracelet broke,” you bite your lip and open your fist to reveal the broken bracelet. It was a gift from Betty and somehow the clasp just snapped in half. 

“Let me see,” he plucks the piece of jewelry in his fingers, touching it delicately. “I know a place that will fix this no problem. Were any of the pieces missing?”

“I don’t think so. It’ll really get fixed?”

“I promise, Sugar. I’ll take it first thing tomorrow morning,” he picks up your hand kissing it. “I have a gift for you.” 

“A gift?” you sniff a few more times watching him move into the closet. He appears with a blue gift bag and your brows furrow. 

“For you,” he presents it on your lap.

You pull the tissue paper out and find a stuffed brown bear staring at you. It’s a little hefty when you take it out of the bag and you get a faint whiff of lavender. It has the sweetest face and is super soft and fluffy.

“I can heat it up in the microwave and it will help with your cramps,” Jake explains. His fingers stroke up and down your thigh. 

“Jake, he’s so cute, I love it,” you hug your arms around his neck. “Thank you. Ah!”

There’s a spasm of pain in your lower stomach as a cramp hits you, Jake’s hands grip the sides of your stomach gently. 

“Change into comfy clothes, baby and I’ll go heat up the bear.” He kisses the side of your head. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I kinda want pancakes.”

“Coming right up.” 

He helps you stand up and you move back into the closet to put on your favorite pair of sweats and one of Jake’s t-shirts. While he’s making noise in the kitchen you wash your face and take a few Midol while your stomach throbs. You press your hands to the lower part of your tummy as you head downstairs into the kitchen. Jake’s back is to you while he works over the stove and you sit on a stool doubling over so your face is on the island counter. 

“Why aren’t you laying in bed?” he asks when he turns around, spatula in hand. 

“I don’t know. Wanna be by you…missed you,” you mumble.

“I missed you too, Sugar,” he grins plopping a completed pancake on a plate. “I don’t want you to be in pain while I cook dinner. Go on and lay down.”

“Fine. But I’m going to the living room.”

You join the sectionals against the couch so it’s one big square couch and you place the pillows in the comfiest position and blankets. Even though you’ll be kicking them off as soon as you’re warmed up. You’re settled in the center scrolling through streaming services trying to find a movie or show to watch. You weren’t sure what you were in the mood for. 

“Do you want your bear while you eat or after?”

“After.”

Jake brings over the plate full of pancakes, maple syrup, and your extra large water bottle.

“Water?” you pout, eyeing it up as you take a fork from him. 

“It’s supposed to help your cramps. Did you drink enough water today?” he asks, cutting up the pancakes and you remain silent. “That’s what I thought. Eat up and I’ll warm up your bear.”

“Okay. Thanks for making dinner,” you lean over kissing his cheek. “How was flying for you today?”

He tells you about his day while he scrolls through Disney+ and selects a movie. 

“Why’d you pick this movie?” you whine noticing it’s The Fault in Our Stars. 

“Because, on day one you always pick this movie so you can cry some more,” he kisses your nose. “And you get extra snuggly with me so that’s a win for me.”

The pancakes are all gone and you help him clean everything up even though he chastises you the whole time. He places the bear in the microwave and the tea kettle whistles loudly. 

“Peppermint tea,” he winks, ripping open the tea bag. He grabs your favorite mug then pours the hot water over the bag. 

The simplest of actions has tears springing in your eyes and he notices, of course he notices, because he wraps you in his arms. 

“It’s okay, I know it hurts. Just a few more minutes and the bear will help, I promise.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head. You frame his cheeks with your hands, enjoying the smooth sensation of his skin and the early prickles of his stubble already coming through. “You’re so good to me Jake, no one has ever noticed the little things like this before. It’s…you’re amazing, you know that?” 

You extend up on your toes giving him a kiss. He thinks it’s a simple ‘thank you’ kiss so he pulls away too soon but you chase his lips eagerly. So eagerly that you push him back against the counter, your fingers tugging on his hair. Jake’s hands grip your waist, his tongue soft against yours. When his arms pull you in tighter, you press against his stomach and it pushes a little on your lower stomach. You squeak a little in pain. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes just as the microwave beeps. His palm rests lightly on your lower tummy. “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll bring the tea and bear over, hm?” 

He kisses your forehead as you go, feet shuffling on the floor. The tv is paused on the movie and once you’re horizontal on the couch, your cramps lighten up a little bit. You watch Jake mosey about, waiting desperately for him to be by you. When he finally does rejoin you on the couch he sets the cup of tea next to your water. 

“Who’s ready for some bear cuddles?” he smiles, holding up the bear. 

“He needs a name,” you say, taking the stuffed animal from him. 

The smell of lavender is stronger now that it’s warm and you place it across your belly. Jake crawls next to you, spreading his legs so you can scoot in the space between him. 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with a name. Ready for the movie?”

You try to pay attention to the movie but Jake’s fingers are tickling your stomach above the bear, the warmth is really helping and the smell of lavender is soothing. Jake’s other hand tickles his fingers up and down your arm, goosebumps rising in their wake and your body starts to relax. 

“Feels nice,” you sigh nuzzling into his chest.

“Good,” he murmurs in your hair. 

“And thank you for the bear, he’s helping the pain.”

“You’re welcome, Sugar. Does he have a name yet?” 

“I think Mr. BB.”

“Mr. BB?” 

“Yeah, Mr. Brown Bear, but BB for short.”

“It’s perfect.” 

The movie continues and you cry at the same parts you always cry at but Jake holds you through it all, making sure you’re sipping from your water bottle. When it’s over, the pair of you head upstairs for bed and you change into the silk shorts Jake bought. His sheets are cool and he remembers to turn the fan on high. 

“Do you get cold with the fan on?” you ask nibbling on your lip.

“No, you keep me toasty warm,” he laughs crawling in next to you. “What time do you work tomorrow?” 

“Open until six. Friday’s are our busiest days,” you yawn loudly. 

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll power through. First day’s always the worst.”

“Sometimes it lingers in the second, Sugar.”

“I’m a tough cookie,” you giggle, hooking your ankle over his leg. 

“I know,” he smacks your butt affectionately under the covers. “I hate that it pains you so much. If you need anything, give me a call. I have the whole day off.”

“Lucky,” you yawn again.

“Go to sleep, baby.”

And because he tells you to and you’re oh so tired, you fall asleep fairly quickly to his fingers tracing designs on your back. 

Suddenly your eyes are open staring into darkness and your hand is splayed across your stomach with tight throbbing pain. There’s an all too familiar pressure between your legs and somehow you roll out of bed and into the bathroom. You use the toilet and replace your feminine product you use then take some more Midol to help your pain. 

You fall back into bed and curl up, biting on your knuckle as another wave pulses you, you don’t want to wake Jake up. He stirs behind you and his arm wraps over your belly. 

“Are you hurting?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah, woke me up,” you whisper. 

“Where’s it the worst?” 

You move his hand to the spot that hurts the most and he applies a little pressure, you press down a little harder and sigh as the pain alleviates. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep again, you tried watching TikToks and Jake turned on an old nostalgic show which finally lulled you asleep. 

It felt as if you only closed your eyes for a moment because Jake was kissing your cheek and brushing your hair to wake you up. You groan at him. 

“You slept through all of your alarms, sweetheart,” Jake’s voice is soft and raspy in your ear. “It’s time to go to work.”

“I’m tired,” you whine.

“I know.” 

A kiss to your cheek.

“I hurt.”

“I know.”

Another kiss to your cheek and you finally open your eyes, the lids feel super heavy. Your body feels heavy too when you sit up. A wave of vertigo washes over you causing you to nearly fall forward on the floor but Jake catches you.

“Woah, you’ve never had it this bad before. If you stay home will the store be okay?” He sits next to you making sure to keep a firm grip on you. 

“Umm,” you think over who’s going to be at the store today. Serena, Brynne and Dom will all be there and since it’s Friday your two high school interns will also be there. “Yeah, they should be fine. There will be five people there.”

“Good. Tell them you’re not coming in and go back to sleep,” he moves off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to heat up Mr. BB for you. Do you want tea or anything?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head letting your fingers fly across your phone’s keyboard as you text everyone. “I hope Serena won’t be mad at me for calling in.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand, Sugar. I’ll be right back,” he kisses your forehead then exits the room. 

After receiving confirmation and well wishes from everyone, you fall back under the covers waiting for Jake to return. When he does, he rests Mr. BB on your lower belly and you nuzzle into Jake’s chest.

“You don’t work today, right?” you ask him.

“Nope, I’m all yours.”

“Good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you, y/n,” Jake mumbles into your hair. His fingers tickle designs up and down your back, it’s so soothing and relaxing. 

“I love that you do,” you mumble into his shirt. 

Jake’s ears perk up at that four letter word but when he looks down to ask you about it, you’re already deeply asleep. He smiles, loving that you’re so comfortable with him and trusting he’ll take care of you.

[harryyskiwii]

Summary: Flight Attendant Y/N meets Captain Harry Styles for the first time and they join the mile high club, sort of.

Pairing: Reader y/n X Captain Harry

Word count: 4,207

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been on holiday the last week and that is what inspired me to write this 🥰As always, please feel free to request anything! Hope you enjoy!

One of the things you enjoyed most about being a flight attendant was the thrill of being able to visit new places, if only for a brief period of time.

You had worked for British Airways for 3 years now and soon you would be hoping to step up to Team Leader where you could help train and look after new flight attendants.

You usually only did short-haul flights out of your base which was London Heathrow and flew across Europe; the longest flight being 6 hours. Short hail suited you, you typically flew to 3 or 4 places within a day and by 1 am, you were back in your bed. That’s if all went to plan. For today’s first flight, you were heading to Dusseldorf in Germany, somewhere you regularly flew to.

You parked your car in the staff area of the airport, changed out of your trainers and into your small black court shoes as driving in heels was never comfortable.

You pulled out your small case from the boot of your car which contained a spare uniform because you won’t be caught out again; on a previous flight a passenger spilt their red wine all over you one time and you had no spare shirt to change into, your water, your lunch because aeroplane food was awful and some spare makeup to top up with in between flights.

You smoothed out your navy pencil skirt, so old fashioned you thought, and tied the red, white and blue scarf around your neck ready to enter the airport.

You headed straight for security and through the fast track lane since you were crew. Once past, you headed to the staff area to check which gate you had to go through to get to the aircraft.

Approaching gate 7, you showed the staff your pass and they nodded and let you go.

You headed towards the aircraft, where you saw the First Officer; Andy doing the pre-flight walk-around. You had flown with Andy for the best part of a year and you knew him well. He got into flying after he fancied a change in career from being in the police. You always liked Andy, he was a father to 2 girls who he adored and always made the typical dad jokes which meant it was normally a good flight with him

“Alright wee one, nice to see you” he smiled at you. “Hey, how are you?” You smiled back at him.

“I’m good, ready for 12 hours of pure joy?” He joked and you laughed. “Always” you replied.

“Who’s the Captain today?” You asked, always fearing if it would be one of the older, slightly rude Captains or one more relaxed and friendly.

“New guy, Styles his name is. Seems like a good bloke, think Daniel already has the hots for him” he winked and you laughed.

You relaxed at the mention of Daniel who you had become best friends with after you had both started the job on the same day. You loved working with him as he always seemed to make the flight go in faster.

“Hey! Am I glad to see you today” you said once inside the aircraft.

“Hey!!” He said hugging you “I’ve not been with you on a flight for ages, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” he said excitedly. You laughed as he always saw working with you as gossip sessions rather than working.

You headed towards the front portion of the plane where the crew placed their bags and got ready for the flight. You glanced in at the cockpit where you saw the Captain sitting doing the necessary paperwork before departure. Although you could only see the back of him you could tell he was wearing his black double-breasted black jacket with the 4 gold stripes on both the epaulettes and the sleeve of his jacket; showing his ranking as Captain.

He had short, dark brown hair which you could tell had been meticulously styled that morning as not a hair was out of place. You had never worked with this captain before, so you weren’t sure what to expect from him; some captains could be so far up their own, you weren’t allowed to speak to them unless spoken so you kept quiet and put your things away and headed back out to the main cabin to find 2 more girls who you didn’t recognise arriving onto the plane.

“Hi, I’m Emma, Team Leader for today. Nice to meet you” the tall blonde girl who was wearing a minimal amount of makeup but still managed to look flawless said to you.

“Hi nice to meet you, I’m y/n” “Lovely name, I’ll go sit my bag down and we can start the briefing” she smiled.

You noticed the other girl who had since boarded, she looked a little more reserved so you decided to introduce yourself.

“Hi I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you” You smiled at her to help relax her. She looked young and a little unsure, she was maybe 18 or 19 years old so you assumed she hasn’t long qualified as cabin crew. You remember how nervous you were for your first few flights so you decided you wanted to look out for her during the day

“Hey, I’m Holly” she said. “Not long qualified?” You asked kindly.

“This is my 2nd flight” she said and you smiled.

“Don’t worry I remember my first couple of flights, it’s nerve-wracking but you’ll soon get the hang of it. There’s no better way to learn than doing it so if there’s anything you need a hand with today, just let me know. I’m always happy to help” you smiled.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your things” You smiled and led her towards the cockpit.

“So you can grab anything you need out of your bag and put it in the fridge if you’ve got a sandwich or anything like that, otherwise you can pop it in here and lock it, we all put our bags in one locker together

“Ahh, I thought I heard some voices. I was just coming to do the briefing” you heard the captain say from behind the cockpit door. You stood up straight and smiled at him coming out.

His eyes fell onto you first and he smiled “Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you” You shook his hand that he had extended for you and took in his beauty. He looked young, maybe 29 or 20. He had green eyes and fair skin which had a slight tan to it, making the dimple on the left side of his face more prominent.

“Y/N, lovely to meet you, Mr Styles”

“Please, call me Harry” he told you and you smiled at how genuine he seemed. Most captains would only allow you to refer to them as Captain and their last name so it was nice to have one who was more relaxed.

“This is our newbie Holly, this is her 2nd ever flight today” you smiled as you introduced the new recruit to him.

“Holly, nice to meet you. I’m Harry, hope you’re settling in well?” He asked kindly as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Styles, yes settling in very well thank you” she sheepishly replied. It always was a bit intimidating to speak with a captain, especially ones you didn’t know much about.

“Call me Harry please” he smiled. “Shall we move to the cabin and start the brief?” He asked and you nodded, moving to the front part of where the passenger seats were located.

By this point, everyone was now in the cabin waiting to start the briefing. The captain introduced himself to the remaining crew members before you all took seats at the front of the plane.

“So my name is Emma I’m one of the British Airways Team Leaders and I’ll be working as number 1 for this shift. Today we’ve got Captain Harry Styles and First Officer Andrew Simmons on the flight deck. For cabin crew today we’ve got Daniel, Holly and y/n, I think we’ve already met each other by now yes?” Emma asked as she pointed to everyone during the introductions.

“Great, it’s a Boeing 777 we’re on today, I’ll let Captain Styles and First Officer Andy talk more about that in a bit. There are a total of 6 flights today; Heathrow to Düsseldorf, Düsseldorf to Heathrow, Heathrow to Las Palmas, Las Palmas to Heathrow and then Heathrow to Venice and Venice back to Heathrow. Full flights on all destinations so we need to be on top of our game in the cabin, Daniel can I ask you to be number 2 today? Holly, do you mind being 3 today and y/n as number 4?”

Number 1 meant you were looking after the passengers in the front of the plane, number 2 was in the middle of the plane, number 3 was in the back section of the plane and number 4 was an additional person who helped the rest of the team, including the flight crew.

You nodded in agreement, secretly glad you were given the position of helping to look after the captain and the FO.

“Captain Styles, do you want to run through your information?” She asked and he straightened up in his chair.

“Yeah sure I’ll just introduce myself a little more since I’m a new face to a lot of people. I’m Harry I’ve been a Captain now for 5 years having previously worked for Ryanair before moving here 3 weeks ago. Please call me Harry because Captain sounds old and although I’ve recently hit my 30s, I’m not quite there yet” This gained a few laughs from the crew, including yourself.

So he was attractive and funny? The more he spoke the more you found yourself more and more drawn to him. He was charming. But not in a cocky way, he seemed genuine and the fact he was a Pilot told you he was smart. Very smart. You always did have a thing for intelligence.

“We’ll be cruising around 30,000 feet once up in the air, weather looks good, clear skies with a 30% chance of light showers. The weather in Düsseldorf is 23 degrees which doesn’t concern us as we’ll have a 20-minute turnover before boarding to come back to the UK unfortunately, bet you wish you’d chosen long haul now Holly?” Harry joked at the fact that although travelling throughout Europe, you hardly ever got to even leave the plane.

You all laughed and Holly agreed. Harry continued with the briefing, telling you about the time durations, and quizzing everyone on emergencies, something which was legally required to ensure all crew knew what to do in the event of one.

“Thanks everyone, I think we can start boarding now” Harry smiled and Emma nodded, knowing to start the boarding procedure.

“Y/N can you help Holly if she needs a hand opening the rear door?” Emma asked and you nodded.

You headed towards the rear of the cabin with Holly behind you.

Once everything was set for boarding, you headed towards the middle of the cabin to help passengers find their seats and help with any luggage they had.

Luckily, boarding took 20 minutes and before you knew it, you were doing the safety demonstration for the passengers while the plane reversed out of the airport and to the runway. You could hear Andy’s voice informing the passengers of the information Harry had relayed to you earlier about the weather etc to keep them up to date.

With the safety demonstration over and having checked everyone had their seatbelts on, Emma nodded to you to signal that you could sit down and prepare for the take-off.

“Cabin crew take seats and prepare for take-off” you heard Captain Styles say and you smiled a little at the sound of his voice.

You sat down at the rear of the plane next to Holly and fastened your seatbelt.

“I’ve done hundreds of flights and I never get bored of the take-off or landing” you said to her quietly as you could feel the plane taxing down the runway.

“I’ve done a handful and still get nervous” she said and you squeezed her hand a little to let her know it was okay to be nervous.

He must have gone from 50mph to about 170mph in less than 30 seconds because before you knew it, you were being hauled into the air with such speed that you swear your heart fell out of your arse. A “fuck” could be heard under Holly’s breath and you laughed.

That was a sure sign of a good takeoff. For a plane to take off at such speed it requires a good sustained acceleration which was exactly what Harry did.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent and good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground? Was there anything this Pilot wasn’t good at?

As the plane climbed into the air, Andy’s voice could be heard over the intercom “Ladies and Gentleman please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the captain has switched off the seatbelt sign. Thank you”

A common command that was often used for eager passengers who would immediately take their seatbelts off as the plane took off the ground.

10 minutes in, the seatbelt sign was switched off and people started to immediately stand up to use the toilets, it always looked like the hunger games you thought.

Because the duration of the flight was only 1 hour and 25 minutes, only the drinks and snack service were required so you and Holly started with that as one of your first tasks, hoping to keep the passengers settled.

Halfway through the service, the alarm which alerted cabin crew to the cockpit was rung and so as the number 4, you left the drinks cart and headed to the cockpit.

You straightened out your skirt and pushed back a few loose strands of hair before knocking and going in.

“Everything alright?” You asked politely squeezing through the small door and inside the cockpit.

“I’m just gonna nip to the loo” Andy said and you nodded, understanding. It was policy that the cockpit operated a “2-person flight deck” which meant 2 people had to be in the cockpit every second the aeroplane was in use.

Andy exited and headed for the toilet.

“Come and sit down” Harry said to you as he glanced over at the seat Andy had been sat in. You moved and sat down in the First Officer’s chair.

“How’s everything out there?” He asked looking over at you. The plane was now set on autopilot meaning it no longer required the captains' manual control, rather a system was being used to control the path of an aircraft.

“Yeah everything’s good, no difficult passengers yet, although what are the chances I’ve jinxed it now” you laugh.

“For the next 5 flights, we’ll have the worst passengers in the history of aviation” he joked and you laughed at his quick white

God, he looked so good sitting there. He had taken off his jacket which revealed a clean crisp white shirt, still showing the 4 gold stripes on his shoulder, but the shirt revealed tattoos. Tattoos which made you feel there was a lot about the Pilot you wanted to find out about.

“Great takeoff by the way” you remarked to him and he smiled lightly.

“Thanks, I’d practised take-off loads in flight school and then just lots of experience I suppose”

The way he spoke was so gentle but also with such passion for his career in his voice.

“What about you, how long have you been in the air for?”

“I’ve been cabin crew for 3 years now, I love it. I was saying to Holly earlier that no matter how many times I fly, I still get the same buzz each time we take off and land”

You watched as his lips turned upwards into a smirk “You’ve not experienced my landing yet, wait until you do”

You laughed at the comment and right on time, Andy came back.

“Fancy swapping jobs for the day?” He joked when he saw you in his chair. You laughed and got up “No thank you, I’d rather not be responsible for 130 passengers” you said and they laughed.

“You guys need anything before I head back out?” You asked them both.

“Could I get a tea if possible please y/n?” Harry asked you politely.

“Of course, how do you take it?”

“Milk and 2 sugars” he told you and you took a mental note of it.

“Nothing for me thanks y/n” Andy said.

You headed back to the cabin, being stopped multiple times by passengers to ask for certain things before making this Captain his tea.

You knocked on the cockpit door and went in.

“Here’s your tea for you” you said handing it to Harry. He smiled and took it off you “Thanks” You headed back to get a Karen in row 21 the G&T she had previously asked for .

“Y/n!” You heard your name being called by the captain from behind the door of the cockpit you had just been in.

You sighed a little, sensing something was wrong and headed back in.

“That’s the best cup of tea anyone has ever made me” he remarked as he smiled at you.

You laughed slightly “I’ll add tea-making skills to my CV then”

“Honestly it’s perfect, I might have to request you on every one of my flights so you can make me the perfect cuppa”

“Right you two, enough with the flirting. Styles we’ve got 25 minutes until landing” Andy jumped in and you and Harry both laughed.

Andy winked at you and you continued with the rest of your tasks.

You arrived in Düsseldorf, with a very smooth landing from Captain Styles at 7:20 am with the next flight at 8 am, giving you a 20-minute turnaround time to get things ready for the next lot of passengers boarding. It was a quick turnaround and before you knew it, you were taking off from Düsseldorf back to London

Landing back at Heathrow at 9:30 am, the next flight was at 10:15 and already there was an issue.

A nervous passenger was starting to feel unwell and wasn’t sure if she would be able to fly to Las Palmas. You and Emma were trying to convince her that the 4-hour and 30-minute trip would be completely safe and she had nothing to worry about.

“I can’t, I can’t fly. What if the plane crashes or falls into the sea? I can’t swim, I will drown and die. I can’t” the passenger who looked no more than 25 said.

“I completely understand your nerves, I can assure you that aeroplanes these days are made to be very very safe and the chances of anything happening are so very slim” you tried to reason with her.

Meanwhile, Emma had instructed Daniel to tell the flight deck what the delay was.

“Hi, I heard we’ve got a nervous flyer?” You heard the same voice who had complimented your tea-making skills say from behind you. The woman nodded.

You looked up to see Harry standing in the cabin, looking to speak with the passenger.

You stepped back and let him crouch down beside her in her seat.

“I’m Harry, I’m the Captain who’ll be taking you over to Palma today. Can I ask your name?” He asked kindly to the passenger.

“It’s Rebecca” she said.

“Okay Rebecca, it’s nice to meet you. So Daniel explained to me that you’re quite nervous when flying?”

“Yeah, I worry the plane will crash or fall into the water”

“Okay I can see why those are concerns, the risk of a crash or the plane failing and falling into the sea is 1 in 11 million. The aircraft is completely safe and in all my years of flying, I’ve never had an emergency on board, well actually I forgot my coffee once which was a real emergency. I’m a real grump without my coffee” he joked and the passenger laughed, as did you at the comment.

“The team are all here to look after you during the flight and if you need anything at all, you can press this button above your head for assistance and they’ll be right over to help you. Does that put your mind at ease a little bit?” He asked still crouched down beside her.

“It does thank you yes captain” Rebecca smiled.

“Good, we’ll be taking off in around 10 minutes so sit back, relax and try and enjoy the flight as much as you can” He smiled and renters back into the cockpit to being the takeoff procedure.

During the flight, the nervous passenger fell asleep halfway through and only woke up when the plane was safely on the ground. Harry came to check on her as she was disembarking and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness in calming her down.

“It’s no trouble at all, you have a good holiday now” he told her as she left the aircraft.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent, good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground and great at calming people down. If you hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, by the next 3 flights, you definitely will have.

Thankfully, the following 3 flights were uneventful, except for the drunken guy who had spilt his crisps all over another passenger which you had to clean up.

The last flight from Venice back to base at Heathrow was welcomed. Your feet were sore, your makeup had half melted off and you couldn’t wait to get your hair out of the uncomfortable bun you were required to wear all day.

After seeing all the passengers off the plane, you started to clear up.

“What a day, thanks for all your help guys” Harry shouted down the cabin as he locked it up for the night.

“No problem Captain Styles, hope to be working with you again soon” Emma said to him.

“Likewise, you guys head off I’m just going to do a walk around” you heard him say.

“Are you sure?” Emma said. “Yeah sure, thanks again everyone” he said once more.

You, Holly, Emma and Daniel started to get ready to leave when you felt Harry’s arm touch yours slightly.

“You stay” you heard him whisper into your ear subtly as you passed him to get your bag.

You blushed and swallowed hard “You guys go, I need the loo” you said to the rest of them.

“Go in the airport” Daniel said and you hinted at him to go.

“Weak bladder, you go I’ll see you soon” you smiled at them.

“Text me later!” Daniel said and you smiled as they left the aircraft.

“Weak bladder eh?” The captain raised an eyebrow at you when everyone was out of sight.

You laughed “I couldn’t think of anything else”

He laughed and smirked at you “I couldn’t help but think about you today. That shitty landing in Venice was your fault, I couldn’t think of anything else”

“I’ll just add ‘distraction to pilot’ on my CV as well then shall I?” You joked.

“You’re such a distraction to the pilot,” he said quietly as he leaned in closer to you.

He cups your face in his hands and he leans in and slowly kisses you. The kiss soon starts to grow more intense as moans echo through the cabin.

He’s started to groan in your ear and kiss your neck up and down.

He pushes you down into a seat in the front row by your hips and he kneels down in front of you.

His hands go up underneath your skirt and start to pull on your tights to reveal your bare legs.

"Harry we can’t do this here." You say completely out of breath already.

“You’re right, the toilet is better. Does this count as joining the mile high club even if we’re not in the air?” He smirked as he led you, barefoot to the bathroom.

For the next 10 minutes, you and Harry enjoyed each other’s company in the toilet as he moved his hips slowly inside of you, each thrust getting faster and faster.

You felt like you might collapse soon and he knew it too so he decided to stop just before you orgasmed and let you out of the toilet.

You sat down in the front row, completely out of breath, a little disheartened he’d pulled out before you orgasmed.

He appeared from the toilet, zipping up his trousers and putting his belt back on.

“Let’s finish at my house” he said and you happily obliged. It was fair to say that night you never got any sleep, despite how tired you had been after your shift.

Thanks to Harry giving you the most amazing sex you’d ever had, you had never been more grateful to be an Air Hostess as you had been that day for meeting your now boyfriend, Captain Harry Styles.

[fateisfiction]

From these prompts I give you:

Summer Kiss ft. Gaz

Soft vibes, sfw

It's not often you get to take a vacation with Kyle, but they've just finished up a long mission and Price has *promised* not to call anyone in for the next two weeks. As soon as you heard, you took it upon yourself to book a room in Portugal to spend a week with Kyle. Some nice warm weather, white sand beaches, and no plans sounded like just the thing you needed to reconnect with your boyfriend.

Of course, Kyle just can't keep his mouth shut, so you have to keep the whole trip a surprise so that Johnny and Simon wouldn't invite themselves along, injecting themselves into *your* relationship. So when you tell Gaz to pack his bags, he has to play a guessing game for what to pack.

"Do I need a coat?"

"Maybe."

"What about boots?"

"You'll bring them whether I say yes or no."

"Can you just tell me if it will be warm or cold?"

"Nope."

You don't even look up from the magazine you're reading, an issue of National Geographic with a story about Antarctica featured right on the cover. Kyle hopes that's not a hint, but he packs his heavy winter coat, just in case.

When you finally leave for the train station, Kyle has 3 full bags, prepared for any situation, and all you have is a little rolling suitcase and your makeup bag. You almost feel bad and tell him to leave what he doesn't need in the trunk of the car, but maybe this will finally teach him to keep his mouth shut. Though, you've been thoroughly entertained listening to Johnny try to figure out where you're taking him away to, making suggestions on what to bring, almost all of them missing the mark.

Just this once, you want to be able to relax with Kyle on the beach and not have to go rappelling down some cliffside to see "the most beautiful waterfall they've ever seen." For once, you want to have your boyfriend to yourself.

When you finally get to the hotel, Kyle practically collapses in the bed, taking you with him. You really couldn't tell him to bring his swim trunks? He thinks the only thing he wasn't prepared for was a beach vacation. That's fine though, you can always run out and grab whatever he forgot to pack.

That evening, the two of you find a little restaurant right on the beach, a candlelit table not far from the sand. Pleasant music fading to the background with the soft crash of waves as you chat, laughing about how you had him convinced that you were dragging him off to Switzerland or Austria, or even the southern hemisphere to get out of the heat.

That evening, the two of you walk along the beach, hand in hand, as he carries both of your sandals. The cool salty water coming up to your ankles as the tide rolls back in.

He can't help but notice how stunning you look in the moonlight. In an attempt to pull you closer for a kiss, he knocks you off balance right as a larger wave crashes ashore sending the two of you tumble into the sand. Laughter fills the air as you lay on top of him, both of you soaked to some extent. He pulls you in for a kiss and the two of you bask in the moment. A perfect getaway. He could almost see himself getting down on one knee, finally slipping the the ring he's been carrying around for months onto your finger. Finally asking you to be his wife.

He supposes that will have to wait. Another wave crashes into you and you rush to get up, running out of the water for drier land, laughing as he stumbles along after you. Yeah. Maybe it was worth keeping this for just the two of you.

COD Masterlist

[fanaticsnail]

Swing - Part 1

This is another chapter of the Dance Series. Masterlist here.

Word Count: 3,910

Song Accompaniment Suggestions: 1, 2, 3

Video Dance Reference: 1, 2

Edit: leg extension lift reference here at 1:50

The lights resonating from the large vanity mirror blared a vibrant yellow light, illuminating the green room to the side of the red and white tent you had called home for the past year. After running away from home to hone your skills as an acrobat, you found a new family within the Buggy Pirates; under their infamous blue haired clown-captain.

“Hey, partner?” a voice called to you after pulling back the tent sheet to reveal his enthusiastic face.

You turned in your chair to fully look at him, a warm smile falling to your features in welcome.

“Yes, partner?” you asked him, quirking your head to the side at the title he’d given you; whilst returning it to him.

His smile teetered off to a warm smirk before he fully entered the green room and took in your form. You had just begun meticulously removing your stage makeup, swiping at your face with a dampened rag and soap solution. He reached down and claimed the material from within your hands and sat against the benchtop of the vanity, reaching over to wipe your face with the dampened cloth.

“Captain has given us a night off,” he said, wiping at your cheeks lightly; prompting you to scrunch your nose at him as he continued: “some old friend has come to see him, apparently. Real intimidating-type if you ask me.”

You hummed in response, allowing your acrobatic partner to continue to swab at your cheeks and eyes with the material to rid yourself of your thickened face paint; revealing your bare skin to the air.

“So,” you asked, closing your lips in as your partner brushed over your nose with the towel, mumbling: “what are we doing tonight?”

He chuckled at you before laying down the towel with a nod to his handiwork; “we’re planning on a little party; a celebration, if you will.”

You downturned your lips and nodded with your eyes wide in happy surprise. You glanced past your partner’s form to look over your face for more of the paint, arching your neck up to look beneath your chin for any missed skin.

“Alright,” you nodded, turning your eyes back to him, “give me a couple minutes to get out of this leotard,” you gestured down at your body; a solid, dazzling unitard with darkened rhinestones reaching from your neck down to your ankles clutching to every crevasse of your skin for free movement. Your acrobatic partner’s eyes followed your gaze as he nodded in agreement, you adding: “I’ll be out there shortly.”

“Get into something light,” he nodded over to your duffel bag of your regular attire, “I still want to throw you a little, if you would be up for it.”

You giggled at him, scrunching your nose up to display your playful expression: “absolutely, Jac. You want to try that leg extension? Really show off for the boss?”

He nodded profusely, reaching to take your hands within his own: “I want nothing more than to demonstrate all of your hard work. You’ve trained for a long while to manage that trick and I really want the Boss to see it.”

A giggle once again released itself from your chest and melodically lifted the air at your partner’s praise, prompting you to rise to your feet and release your hands from his grip.

“Our hard work, Jac,” you reiterated to your acrobatic partner, “you do as much work as I do as the base. You deserve more recognition than I do.”

He reprimanded you by raising his index finger to your nose and tapped it lightly, prompting you to close your eyes and scrunch up your nose against his playful discipline.

“Whatever the case may be,” he continued on, you reopening your eyes to gaze at him fondly, “we’re all going to be dancing tonight. I think Cabaji even said he wanted to give you a little twirl.”

You laughed at his comment, turning to push against the back of the wooden stool to slot it in to neatly fold itself beneath the desk of the lit vanity. Turning to meet with Jac again, you asked: “what style is on the agenda tonight? We just doing jigs like the good ol’ days, or something a bit more,” you reached up and caressed his cheek with a small giggle; “sensual?”

At this comment, the two of you broke into a loud uproar of laughter. Neither of you had harboured any feelings of anything more than comradery between you; small flirtatious touches here and there, more out of boredom than anything leading to something other than friendship. You had been working as a team for almost eight months, him being the perfect masculine balance and strength to your feminine energy with flexibility and fluidity through acrobatic expression.

“We’re opting for a bit of a mash-up tonight, I think,” he suggested, “might even try trios, if a few of us are keen on it.”

Your interest immediately became peaked, noting that several of the trapeze and juggling crew had wanted to explore the possibility of engaging in dance-like skills; being eager to learn new skills at your hands. The excitement that grew within your partner’s chest began to rhythmically pump its way within your own ribs in anticipation.

It had been a while since you both had the possibility to explore a night away from your duties as an acrobatic duo and join in with the whole crew in recreation. You knew that Jac had his eye on a particular minstrel and wanted to show off his skills with you in front of them, hopefully leading to something more exciting to pull him away from the crowd.

“Okay, okay!” you laughed at him, tapping his chest and ushering him out of the green room, “let me get into some loose clothes and I’ll be there in a hot minute.”

He skipped to his feet and made to exit the canvas flap of the red and white tent, only halting as you added; “make sure you get the right music sorted! I have to really feel the beat to get moving!”

He nodded before shrouding his body from view in his release of the tent-wall door. You laughed again before moving the lycra material from your shoulders and releasing the material from your arms; ushering the tightness from your body to pool at your feet.

-

Bored were the ever-watching, haunted yellow eyes of the sword-master; observing the troop of unhinged Buggy-Pirates dance with one another. He swirled a short-stemmed goblet between his index and middle fingers to oxidise the crimson liquid within. He released a disinterested sigh as he raised the goblet to his lips, taking a long sip of the wine; rolling the flavour over his pallet as he did so.

He lay reclining in the bleachers of the large circus tent, his great sword; Yoru lay beside him on the wooden bench. Raking his eyes through the crowd, he witnessed the colourful captain he had decided to pay visit to linking arms with several members of his crew and chortling gleefully as he spun with them.

The attention of Dracule Mihawk was drawn to an approaching figure with a warm smile as they singled out a member of the troop and began to effortlessly maneuver their body to playfully dance with them. He leaned forward, brows knitting together with interest and subtle curiosity. He could barely feel the shift of weight next to him as the clown-captain plopped himself down next to him on his lefthand side to witness the glee falling onto his crew.

“Something catch your hawk-eyes?” Buggy teased him, following with a loud roar of laughter at his own joke. Mihawk chose to not acknowledge him, completely transfixed by the figure he spotted as they danced with their partner.

Buggy teetered off his laughter, furrowing his brows before following the unblinking path of Mihawk’s undivided fascination. His breath hitched in his throat as he witnessed his two prized acrobats dancing so playfully together; several thrown aerial tricks being utilised throughout the exchange while continuing to lazily dance with each other for the slower moments.

“Ohh-,” Buggy sighed out in a drawn out breath, a large grin falling upon his face as he brought his gaze back to the swashbuckler next to him, “-I see you’ve found my acrobat.”

Mihawk glanced in the corner of his eye, narrowing them slightly at the captain before flickering them back to the couple who were laughing while continuing to spin around in the large ring of the red and white tent. Buggy chuckled and clapped his right hand upon Mihawk’s shoulder, shaking him a little at the impact.

“Well,” Buggy shrugged, bringing his face closer to the finely maintained cheek of the sword wielder, “you can’t have her. She’s my favourite.”

Mihawk immediately turned his posture towards the clown beside him, prompting Buggy to scuttle slightly back in his seat with widened eyes at the intensity of the yellow, hawk-like gaze.

“Oh, can’t I?” the sword master smirked with narrowed gaze at the clown, relishing in his discomfort at the proximity. Buggy shifted against the wooden bleacher he was sitting against, leaning back onto his hands as the sword wielder continued to stoop over his retreat.

“N-no, you can’t,” Buggy stuttered over his words, frowning deeply at the implication. He trailed his gaze back to the acrobats as they continued their playfully flirtatious dance with each other, prompting Mihawk to follow the clown’s gaze. They both watched as the two acrobats fell their bodies back to back with large smiles falling over their faces.

The woman that held their current fascination extended her right leg to hold itself completely vertically in front of her face, her hands gripping the male acrobat’s hips behind her to steady herself against him. He reached up his hands and circled them around the foot above his head, supporting her ankle within his firm grip. In one swell movement, she swept her grip upwards atop his forearms as he bore down against her leg; whipping her upwards to be raised above him. She steadied herself against his grip, remaining on display and far above the ground in the arms of her partner. Her leg continued to be extended in its elevation, graceful in her movements while the male acrobat laughed before dropping her from his grasp to cradle her against his chest.

Both Buggy and Mihawk’s eyes widened at the swift motion: the male acrobat a perfect frame for the woman’s flawless painting. The acrobats continued to sweep throughout the room, interchanging partners but always finding each other amongst the crowd to perform difficult tricks within the dance.

“She’s excellent,” Mihawk commented, continuing his unblinking and undivided attention against the form of the acrobat.

Buggy huffed out a breath in resolve, straightening his torso while Mihawk shifted from his prowl to fall back into the seated position to continue to watch the graceful movements of the acrobats within the ring.

“Again,” Buggy’s voice broke through, drawing the swordsman’s attention back to him, “you can’t have her. She’s special.”

Mihawk hummed, raising his goblet back to his lips and taking a small sip of the liquid within. Buggy rose to his feet and made his way into the ring of his crew dancing together, the music teetering down as they all clapped at the musicians playing.

“We shall see,” Mihawk smirked against the rim of his glass, keeping his vision completely fixed on the acrobatic pair as the clown-captain approached them.

-

Twirling once more in Jac’s arms, you came to a halt and cheered in praise to the minstrels performing their music in absolute joy and adoration. Jac cheered with vigour at the singer of the troop, celebrating her mastery of vocal skills as she took a small curtsey; a warm blush rising to her cheeks. You flittered your knowing gaze between them, prompting you to place your hand atop your acrobatic partner’s shoulder to bring his attention back towards you.

Your eyes met, you shot him a wink and urged his pursuit of the musician with your chin before scrunching up your nose with a smile. He sprung immediately into action, fleeing from your grasp and running to circle his arms around the musician, her laughter springing melodically from her lips as he spun her in his arms.

A presence found itself beside you, a hand placed firmly against your hip; alerting you to their attention. You turned with the arm to face the individual, meeting with the finely painted face of your captain looking at you with joy and pride.

“Acrobat,” he cooed at you affectionately, bringing his other arm to rest on your hip.

“Captain,” you smiled in return, raising your hands up to lace around his neck fondly. His gaze softened, the teal-eyes baring down into your own eyes with warmth.

“Are you up for another round?” he asked you, tweaking his left eyebrow upwards in question; his tone playful.

“Of course, Captain,” you nodded eagerly while unlacing your arms from around his neck and finding his hands, “what are you thinking?”

He hummed in response, leading you away from the crowd and into the centre of the ring. The crowd of crew parted for your entrance, some taking seats to watch your exchange while others retrieved tankards of ale or cups of water to replenish themselves from their prior overexertion. He released your left hand from within his right and twirled you out towards the floor, still holding your right within his left as he did so.

“I’m feeling something light,” he quirked his head to the side, eyes half-lidded in affection. He pulled you in towards him, he in turn spinning to face away from you to queue the musicians to play. Removing his hat and large coat, throwing them to the side of the tent, landing in a heap on the floor; your gaze immediately found its way to waist-line of his brown leather pants. Without hesitation, you brought your right hand over to lightly tap his left ass-cheek, laughing as you spun yourself away form him; his own laughter following his initial shock at the action.

“Keeping it playful, are we?” Buggy purred at you, a small growl in his tone. His eyes widened before narrowing at you, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Don’t I always?” you returned his smirk before breaking into a wide grin.

He loosened his mustard-coloured cravat and circled his neck to release it of any tension as the minstrels began to play; up tempo and light melody to set the atmosphere between you. You rose your right hand out as an indication for him to take your hand within his own; an action which he readily participated in. He clasped your hand within his own, drawing your body into his while lacing your right hand around his neck in a swift motion.

Dancing with your captain was something you could never find yourself getting bored of. Although it had been a while since the last time the entire crew had an opportunity to express themselves away from their duties as members of his circus; when you did all have such an opportunity thrust upon you, your captain was almost the first to come to you for a dance. You had an uncanny ability to match-energies with your partners, being able to draw the best out of them while you moved with them. The captain would always find your improvisational movements comforting, knowing you would readily reciprocate any action he would bring to the dance free of any fear of rejection.

He held your waist with his right hand, pulling your body to lay flush against his own. You pressed your forehead against his and leant into him, falling to your toes as he pulled you around in a circular motion. As the music picked up, you swung your hips to the beat, prompting a similar reaction from your captain as you did so. You drug your hand over his shoulders and he released his hands from your waist as you circled around him, continuing to slide your fingertips over his chest and back as you did so; feeling the crevasses of his muscular and athletic physique beneath his waistcoat.

Buggy felt any prior uneasiness from speaking with his broad-hat wearing guest flitter away, your actions making him feel as he is the only man to have ever peaked your interest; even though you and the sword wielder were yet to have a single conversation. When you brought your body back in front of him, he took your right hand in his left and twirled you; walking away from you to continue to keep you at arms distance away. He admired your form as you continued to match his energy, swaying your hips with a large smile on your face.

As the clown-captain took an exceptionally large stride outwards, you dropped to your knees to the floor and extended your back outwards to slide gracefully beneath his legs and rise back to your feet as you re-emerged from the other side of his body. Buggy began to laugh whole heartedly, feeling you already circle his body to reclaim his hands within your own.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised you, clasping your right hand within his left and lacing his right hand behind the middle of your back to bring you against him.

“So are you, Captain,” you laughed at him, allowing him to rock your body from side to side, extending your hips and sliding on your toes to keep up with him.

He managed to pull you into two spins, spinning his own body to face away from you again and bringing your hands to his shoulders. You watched as your captain did a particularly overemphatic hip gyration, prompting you to raise your left leg upwards and mock a playful kick to his left ass-cheek; prompting him to laugh whole heartedly, spinning himself again to face you.

“This is why you’re my favourite,” he muttered in a voice only you could hear, prompting you to arch your eyebrow upward to lightly chastise him.

“You’re not meant to have favourites, sir,” you mocked a tone of playful discipline, bringing your right hand from within his and wrapping it around his neck and pressing your forehead against his once more. You swore you heard him moan when you referred to him as ‘sir’, but it could’ve been your imagination.

“And where was that written on the sign up sheet, hm?” he hummed in a jesting tone, reaching upwards to clasp your hand within his once more. He twirled you once, enjoying the way he had complete control over your actions as he lead you through the song.

You felt eyes watching you, prompting you to flitter your gaze from your captain and seek out its source. Yellow ever-watchful eyes met with yours, intensity baring onto your body; prompting a pink flush to reach your chest and upper ears. He was neatly manicured, his shirt laying open to reveal his bare chiselled torso to you. His broad, feathered hat and his aura of confidence the complete opposite of your current dance partner and captain.

Shaking your head, you brought your attention back to the blue-haired man in your arms, feeling him become slightly uneasy at your teetering attention.

Noticing his contentment and humour falling from his face, you instinctively raised your left hand to rest on his cheek instead of his shoulder; prompting his blue-green irises to meet with your own. You searched within his orbs, flittering between them indecisively. An almost sorrowful expression fell on his face at your search before a small smile once again found its way to his red-tinted lips.

“Saw the guest, did you?” he whispered against your palm while spinning with you, “what do you make of him?”

He pushed lightly on your torso, bringing your body away from its close proximity to him and twirling you with his left hand.

“He expressed an interest in you, you know,” he uttered when bringing you back against him, his right hand snaking around your back to once again sway with you. You creased your brows at the comment, noting the light atmosphere began to turn dark at his words.

“Captain,” you stated firmly, bringing his eyes back to you from their current position looking at his crew. Once his eyes met yours, you felt him melt against your gaze.

“Yes, Acrobat?” he asked you softly, indicating for you to continue your train of thought. You sighed deeply, the music teetering off to completion but neither of you breaking from your hold on one another.

“When I’m in your arms, I’m yours: your dance partner, your woman,” you reassured him, reaching your left hand up again to claim his right cheek, “you have my complete and undivided attention always, sir. I’m yours.”

He sighed against your caress, tilting his face into your hand and pressing a feather-light kiss against your palm; prompting your breath to hitch in your throat slightly.

“Only while we dance?” he smirked, releasing your palm from his lips and searching your eyes for any further indication of your affections.

“In all aspects of my servitude to you, Captain,” you nodded your head, releasing his cheek from your caress, “I’m yours-.”

He laced both arms around your waist and hoisted you into the air, prompting you to squeal against the sudden movement. Buggy laughed whole-heartedly at your ill-preparation of his movement, twirling you around in a circle while remaining hoisted into the air. Your gaze fell to the flex of his shoulders and forearms as he held you firmly, prompting the raw blush to reappear on your un-made-up features.

“Good!” he yelled before planting your feet back against the ground and lowering his voice, “because you’re my favourite.”

You shook your head and used your right hand to place a small tap against his chest, playfully reprimanding him again for his comment. He chuckled at your action, unlacing his arms from their place against your hips and trailing them up your sides to take your hands within his once more. You shuddered slightly at his touch before taking his hands within your own.

Throughout the whole interaction between you, the ever watching hawk-eyes continued to hold firm against your body; watching how effortlessly you moved with your captain and with your former acrobatic partner. The way you made the ridiculous clown-captain look as if he was the most important man in the world, your subtle touches of your hands brushing against his skin tenderly, your playful smile almost prompting one to fall upon his moustache-clad lip in response.

It was there Dracule Mihawk knew he had to have you in his arms. He didn’t even care if he had to share you with the ridiculous clown he had come to visit with; he wanted to experience the way you made the ‘flashy fool’ look and feel with the way you moved, your body flowing effortlessly against his. He initially ignored the heat rising steadily in his chest and the way his breath hitched in his throat at witnessing your skillful flexibility and dexterity in movements with your acrobatic partner. After watching the full dance between your blue-haired captain and your body, he knew he had to experience that intensity before he left. Again, he found himself willing to share you. He knew he wanted you, at least just once.

(Edit, Part 2 here)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Rich for a Night

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!detective!reader

Summary: To catch a thief targeting wealthy couples, you go undercover with your husband Deacon.

Warnings: fluff, Deacon & r are held at gunpoint, a Bugatti gets wrecked :(

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (1x19 "Source")

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you lament. “The robberies always occur after big events, dinners, charity galas, but there’s no other connection.”

“Catering company?” your desk neighbor suggests.

“Different for every event. No one worker has been at every event. Planners have alibis, there’s no similarity in looks or where victims live, even banks. The only lead we have is wealthy couples getting robbed, sometimes at gunpoint, after an event.”

You drop your head into your hands as you reconsider the entire case. You’ve looked through every guest list, and everyone has alibied out, even though only a few couples overlapped and attended every event. They got robbed, too, as it turns out. The first two robberies had a connection: they both banked at the same place, but after that, the connection disappeared.

“It has to be someone near the events,” you murmur. “Maybe it’s someone who has access to Los Angeles socialite calendars and is just hanging around the events and picking people at random.”

Your phone rings, and you sigh before you answer, “Detective Kay.”

“Detective, there’s been a murder,” the caller says.

“Let me get you someone in homicide.”

“No, this is related to your burglary case. Or at least that’s what the homicide detective thinks. It looks like a robbery gone wrong.”

“What’s the address?” you ask as you pick up your cell phone and keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

On the drive into the hills, you add this new twist to your thoughts on the case. You agree that this location, the schedule, and everything about the setting of the crime match your investigation. The murder is either a progression or a mistake. Maybe the burglar was interrupted, or the victim tried to stop him. Before you can create too many theories, you arrive at the scene and flash your badge to enter the house.

“What have we got?” you ask the homicide detective surveying the scene.

“Forensics is going over everything now, but it doesn’t look like anything was taken. Single gunshot to the chest was our cause of death.”

“Nothing was taken?” you repeat. “Then why do you think this is related to the thefts?”

“Because of that,” he answers, squatting as he points under the makeup vanity. “A bag filled with jewelry pushed just out of reach. Almost like a dying woman was trying to protect herself and her home.”

“What else did you find?”

“Not much. Seems like this happened pretty quickly. Alarm was disabled at eleven-oh-five p.m.”

“After the murder mystery theater on the yacht,” you add. “Date night gold for the rich.”

“Hence, why we think this is your case, not ours. They’ll try to recover the bullet during the autopsy and run ballistics.”

“Until then, it’s mine to decipher. Thanks, detective.”

“Could I make one suggestion?” he inquires as he removes his gloves. You nod, and he says, “This seems like the perfect opportunity for a UC. Even if you don’t come face-to-face with the burglar, you get to know a bit more about the victims.”

“Even more if you go undercover yourself,” your partner adds as she walks into the house. “Progression or accident?” she asks, pointing to the victim.

“I can’t go undercover,” you argue.

“Why not? You get to play dress up. Plus, you’ve got a tactically trained and incredibly attractive husband you could take with you. No one would question your right to be there with Deac’s old money vibe and your, well, everything.”

You look around the scene, a luxury environment as an outward acknowledgement of all the victim worked for, or as it may be, didn’t work for, and decide it truly is your best option.

“I need a Rolex.”

Browsing the rows of the evidence locker with a small box in your hand, you wonder why so many rich people get arrested. So far, you’ve gathered a Rolex Daytona worth at least $100,000 and three pairs of sunglasses from Cartier, Ray Ban, and Dolce and Gabbana.

“Perfect,” you whisper as you find an envelope with a Tiffany ring and a pure obsidian band.

With these accessories and the dresses your contact who works with the UC division is procuring for you, you do not doubt that you will fit in. You still need a car, but you know just the people to ask about that.

“I need to check these out, Ally,” you request as you slide the evidence onto a desk. “For case 9212024.”

“No problem,” she answers as she begins logging case numbers and photos into her computer. “Who’s the ring for?”

“My husband.”

“I pity the criminals you’re after.”

“At least they’ll get a nice view while we put the cuffs on.”

“What are you doing here?” Rocker asks as you enter SWAT HQ.

“Lovely to see you too, Donovan,” you reply with a smile. “Do you greet your wife like that?”

Rocker shrugs and hugs you quickly before he directs you to where 20 Squad is reviewing warrants.

“Sergeant Kay,” you call as you enter.

“Oh, hi!” Street greets.

“This is a surprise,” Deacon says as he moves around Street to hug you.

“I have something for you,” you begin. You pull the obsidian ring from your pocket and lift the Cartier aviators from your side. “A proposal.”

“Is this a married couple thing or am I just confused?” Street whispers.

“You don’t want me to answer that, playboy,” Luca replies, slapping his back.

“Why?” Deacon questions, smiling even as he narrows his eyes at you.

“It’s just a date,” you promise.

“To do what?”

“I’m still working the string of burglaries targeting rich couples. We’ve got tiny leads that add to enough of a clue that I want to go undercover at the next big event to try to find something. I have to work faster because a woman was killed during a robbery last night.”

“Why not take someone more familiar with the case?”

“Do it, Deac,” Street whispers. “Just for the watch.”

“What watch?” Deacon asks.

You lift your hand to show the Rolex Daytona hanging loosely around your wrist. “There’s a look to people like this. I’ve got everything except a date right now, and you’re the best option for more reasons than I can list, Deac. If you can’t, I get it.”

“No, I want to,” he states, taking the sunglasses from your hand and sliding them onto his face. “Let’s catch a burglar.”

“Oh, that’s just not fair,” Street complains.

“Street,” you call. “I need something from you and Luca too.”

“Alright,” you announce after you secure your earrings. “We just moved here from New York, have our accounts set up, moved into a newly renovated house in the hills and are scoping out the local charities because we’re budding philanthropists.”

“And luring a thief,” Deacon adds as he gently tugs the strap of your dress to straighten your neckline.

“Mostly that.”

“I’m following your lead tonight, detective.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Your ride is here,” Street says on the other side of your door. “And you’re welcome, but don’t get used to it. Luca and I may be brilliant, but we’re not get a free Bugatti loaner every week brilliant.”

“I never said it had to be a Bugatti,” you whisper to Deacon.

“I can hear you, ya know,” Street calls. “You are wearing a wire. So, keep it PG, Deac.”

Deacon smiles as he leans toward the tiny microphone hidden in the seam of your dress strap and answers, “10-4, good buddy.”

Street groans, and you gently push Deacon’s shoulders to straighten his tie. He looks good, though you expected no less.

“Let’s be rich for a night.”

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Napier,” the chauffeur greets as he opens your door. “Beautiful car. It's number 17,” he adds as he hands Deacon the card to pick up the car after the event. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you,” Deacon answers, nodding as he shakes the man’s hand and passes a $50.

You wait on the curb as Deacon rounds the back of the Bugatti and wraps his arm around your waist.

“If he scratches that car, Street will kill me,” you say through your smile.

“Good thing it’s not Street’s car,” Deacon replies. “Let’s go, Mrs. Napier.”

You smile while you loop your arm around Deacon’s bicep and follow him into the concert hall. Innumerable couples are finding their seats and milling around the open area of the hall as they discuss charities, recent events, and bank account balances. With Deacon, you have no concern about looking out of place, and your confidence is assured when three different women look over at him. One of which looks away from her husband to do so.

“Good evening,” a woman greets, smiling as she approaches you. “My name is Andrea Campbell and I’m hosting this evening’s event. Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I don’t recall meeting you.”

“No, ma’am, you haven’t,” Deacon says, carefully extracting his arm from your hold as he offers to shake her hand. “I’m Dan Napier and this is my wife. We just moved here from upstate New York and wanted to see the charities of Los Angeles.”

“Oh, how wonderful! Mrs. Napier, I am an advocate for women in philanthropy, so if you have any questions please do not hesitate to contact me. I truly hope you enjoy this evening’s show and the presentation.”

“Thank you,” you offer before Andrea is called away. Once she’s out of earshot, you stifle a laugh and whisper, “I’m surprised she even saw me.”

“Mrs. Napier, is it?” a man asks, allowing as he pauses directly at your side, out of Deacon’s reach. “My associate Andrea mentioned that you were here. I believe you recently opened an account at my branch of United Banks. Hopefully you can spare some time soon so I can show you around LA.”

He walks away before you or Deacon can speak, and you’re left to watch him and wonder why he chose to acknowledge you.

“Think he’s a suspect?” Deacon murmurs into your ear as you turn toward him.

“No,” you answer, moving your professionally styled hair as you shake your head. “Just a man with a roving eye. We have no evidence that our guy goes after women any more than men.”

“But he killed the woman last night.”

“The husband called it in, though. He was in the house when it happened. Said they were both tied up and she managed to get free and went into the bedroom to confront the thief. He’s scared, he doesn’t like being watched. Nothing like that guy.”

Deacon nods and pulls you close, smiling before he kisses you quickly. You slide your hand into his and follow him to your seat.

During the concert, nothing of note occurs. Even after it ends, you’re welcomed to Los Angeles by several couples, but no one sticks out as a possible suspect. So, disappointed and back at square one, you exit the concert hall and stand at Deacon’s side as he asks the chauffeur to fetch the car.

Just as the Bugatti pulls up, the man who parked your loaner car moves behind Deacon and presses a gun against the small of his back.

“Get in the car, Mr. Napier. I’d hate to shoot through your wife’s pretty dress,” he demands quietly. “Now.”

Deacon moves his hands slightly to show the man that he’s unarmed and mumbles, “Okay, okay.”

“In the car, Mrs. Napier,” he demands, jerking his head toward the passenger door.

You nod quickly, wearing faux fear on your face as you get in the front seat. Deacon sits in the driver’s seat beside you as the armed man slides in behind him.

“Nice car,” he applauds. “Now drive to your house. Either one of you moves for a phone… if you even adjust the air vent, I will shoot you both.”

You don’t think he will, not somewhere as noticeable and closed-in as the car, but you nod and pretend to swallow a sob as Deacon pulls the Bugatti out of the short driveway.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the man begins as Hondo speaks into your earpiece to alert you that he’s behind you in an unmarked car. “We’re going to go into your house, you’re going to turn off the alarm and get out of my way, and I’m going to take whatever I want. Understood?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Deacon replies.

The man presses the gun against your temple and yells, “Understood?!”

“Yes,” Deacon answers quickly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as his hands remain firmly at 10 and 2. “Understood.”

“I trust you, Dan,” you whisper as his left hand shifts slightly. “And everything you’d want people to do.”

“Shut up!” the man demands, lowering his gun slightly as he looks between you and Deacon.

“I trust you, Daniel,” you repeat softly, hoping your wire picks it up.

“I hope you don’t regret that,” Hondo answers in your ear. “Turn one light too early if you mean it, Deac.”

Deacon’s jaw clenches as he approaches the last light before your turn.

“This way is faster,” he tells the thief as he hits the blinker but doesn’t move.

Hondo’s engine revs as he increases his speed, steering his car to the right to perform a PIT manoeuvre.  When his front bumper collides with the side of the Bugatti, Deacon releases the wheel and turns toward you. He grabs the man’s forearm and hits it against the passenger seat as you retrieve your service weapon from your ankle holster. The car slides to a stop against the curb, and the man drops his gun, then begins crying as you level your aim at him.

“You’re under arrest,” you tell him, panting as you try to catch your breath and lower your heart rate.

“Who are you?” the man whimpers as Deacon holds his arm between the front seats.

“Detective Kay, LAPD,” you answer. “This is Sergeant Kay. And the man about to pull you out onto the pavement is Sergeant Hondo. LAPD SWAT.”

“Wait,” he interrupts, sniffling. “You’re actually married?”

Hondo rips the door open before you can answer and grabs the back of the man’s shirt collar to haul him out of the car. He looks through the open back door to check on you and Deacon, then clicks his tongue.

“Luca and Street are not going to be happy.”

You tip your head back against the headrest and groan.

“Congratulations, Detective Kay,” Deacon says.

He smiles as you turn in the seat to face him.

“I love you,” you tell him softly. “Even more without the expensive jewelry.”

“But I look good in the sunglasses, right?”

You laugh and nod but point out, “We didn’t need them for a concert at night, though.”

Deacon laughs with you, and as the approaching police lights reflect around you, you know your life is richer with Deacon than with any material belongings you could ever borrow or earn.

[letmeapologise]

u should do something about dad!jude

like cuddling with ur little daughter and jude and she just cant stop being daddys girl

or like coming home from a tiring day at work and ur really upset and just the two ( or three like a little son and daughter :( ) of them kissing u and cuddling u to make u feel better

❝ 𝐮𝐩𝐬 𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 ✰ ´ˎ˗

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝟏.𝟏𝐤 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

AFTER WHAT FELT LIKE YEARS OF DRIVING, you finally got back to the comfort of your home, your colleagues – and boss – were actually doing your head in, and it was the biggest relief when the clock finally struck leaving time. Jude greeted you at the door, having taken time off from training just for the day as you had a big day at work and neither of your family member’s were available to take care of the two kids on short notice. You groaned, dropping your bags by the door, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning upwards to reach him on your tiptoes.

“Bad day at work?” he chuckled, you simply huffed. “You couldn’t imagine, and I’ve got some sickness off of one of the clowns there too.” He laughed at your description of your colleagues, then picked your bags up for you, carrying them into the living room as you tailed behind him. Your kids came running in shortly enough, shrieking and yelping as they ran as fast as their little legs could carry them. “Be careful!” Jude warned them, holding his arms out to catch them in case they ran into a wall, or something like that.

“Mommy!” they yelled in sync, palms outstretched in grabbing motions as they practically leaped onto your chest, you yelped in surprise and pain then started laughing softly. “Don’t hurt mommy, she’s had a bad day,” you smiled softly. “They’re fine, thank you, baby,” you nodded at Jude who looked down at you sympathetically. June – your daughter who had been subject to the Bellingham naming tradition – was grabbing and squishing your cheeks together, and then your nostrils. You frowned at her jokingly, thinning your lips, and then moved some of her hair out her face.

You looked over at Jude. “What’ve you done today then?” you asked, tilting your head endearingly. “Just been outside playing footie with them both,” he shrugged, nonchalant. You scoffed, then half-yelped out in pain again as Toby – your son who you had somehow convinced Jude to not name Joel, Jace, or something along those lines – jumped onto you too. You sat upright, avoiding the toddlers’ hands pinching and grabbing at your skin; Jude taking the cue to pick up both of them. You eyed him, looking up and down and smirked, watching as his eyes dropped over you too.

He shook his head at you, a non-verbal cue – not while the kids are here – and you facepalmed, stretching your hands across your face and then neatening out your hair. “What’s wrong with mommy?” June asked, looking at you inquisitively as you searched through your purse, pulling out some makeup wipes and wiping your face with it gently – a handheld mirror in the other hand. Jude huffed. 

“Been busy at work with a lot of mean people, baby. Why don’t you go ‘n’ cheer her up, yeah?” she nodded at him and Jude dropped her down, setting Toby onto the sofa and dangling blocks in his face to play with as he watched June go up to you and softly stroke your face with a tiny hand. You smiled at her, handing her the makeup wipe. “D’ you wanna help me take my makeup off?” she nodded eagerly at you, dabbing it into your skin – but only in one spot – you scoffed, chuckling. “What about the rest of my face?” you asked excitedly, she giggled at you, moving the wipes over to your eyelids and you closed your eyes, wincing.

Your hands came up to hers, moving them gently around your face and not in your eyes. She sighed deeply at you, sensing she was already bored – June had the attention span of a toddler (literally) – you sat her on top of your lap, one arm snaked around her holding her up whilst you unapplied your makeup. “Have they had dinner?” you asked, finally finishing removing everything on your face and looking up at Jude, half-yawning with a covered hand. He nodded. “Just finished it as you were coming in.”

“Tobs, go ‘n’ kiss your mom, make sure he’s not sick,” he nodded at his dad, kneeling in front of you and giving you the one-two, then went back over to his pile of blocks. “What was that?” Jude gave him a pensive look, laughing. “She looks fine to me,” he shrugged, eyes unwavering from his blocks piled up on top of each other in a tower. Jude rolled his eyes, looking over at you and then making his way over, patting his son in the back affirmingly. He sat next to you, shifting his leg against yours and kissing your cheek, pulling your face in his direction before pecking you on the lips. Again, again, again, and again. 

“You’re gonna get my cold,” you groaned, being interrupted by Jude constantly kissing you on the lips. He held your face in between his hands, giving you one last big kiss that left you limp to his touch, and then squeezed your torso. Toby had stopped playing with his blocks and was glaring at his dad with a scornful expression, June, however, was uninterested in everything that was going on and drawing peacefully on her lap. You gestured over to him, Jude’s head twisting in his direction with a cocky smile.

“You jealous, Tobs?” you rolled your eyes, slapping Jude. The man was competitive even with his own children. “I told you to come ‘n’ kiss her, too late now,” he shrugged, teasing his son as he practically sprinted over to you, wrapping his arms around your stomach and glaring at his dad, huffing at him. You facepalmed, then looked down at your son, Jude’s arm still wrapped around your torso. “Is daddy winding you up?” you glanced at Jude, an unimpressed look. Toby nodded, whining to himself and burying himself in your stomach as Jude flashed him a toothy grin.

Jude continued kissing you, Toby continuously moving his face away from yours with a flat palm, then sat upright whilst you balanced him with your hand, and kissed you on your nose and cheeks softly. You giggled, both of your favourite boys having a competition for your attention and physical touch. Then June came over, pressing kisses to your cheek and stroking your hair. Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, much to the dismay of the two boys – Jude might as well be a boy at this point with his childish behaviour, competing for you with his own son – who whinged at you until you puckered up again.

This was all the medicine you needed.

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧

[haddonfieldwhore]

we make a good team - darby allin

darby allin x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: briefly suggestive?, sting is readers father, language

summary: when you and darby are paired as a tag team, he helps you with your ring gear

your whole life you had been surrounded by wrestling, so it was no surprise to your father sting, when you told him you wanted to follow in his footsteps. after years of training and practice and tryouts, last year you had finally made it to aew, and had an impressive first run on the roster. the feuds you had recently been a part of had ended a few weeks ago, and tony had told you a few days ago that you would be doing a short tag team run with darby allin, who was a protege of your fathers. if it went over well with the fans, you would continue as a team for a while and go after the tag titles.

you and darby had become quite close in the short time you had been with the company, sharing similar styles and interests, as well as being close in age. sting was happy to see the two of you getting along, and your character fit perfectly with their aesthetic, under your ring name ‘thorn’. you and darby had been practicing for your match for days, and something about working so closely with him had made you realize that you had developed a crush on him. sometimes it seemed like maybe he felt the same, but you didn’t want to risk ruining your new partnership before your first match; and his friendship meant a lot to you, and you didn’t want to risk it.

“hey,” darby walked into the dressing room the two of you were sharing, as you stood in front of the mirror in your ring gear. you had gotten a new outfit for this tag team run; pants with one leg that was black and one leg that was white, a simple white tank top, and black boots. darby sat in front of the mirror, and took out a makeup case that contained his face paints, before he began getting ready for the match that was in about an hour. he was already dressed in his outfit for the night, plain black jeans and boots, and a black cloak-like hoodie over his shirtless torso. thankfully, he was too focused on his face paint to notice you staring, admiring his toned abs that were on display under the cloak.

“are you nervous?”

“no, are you?” he replied, not taking his eyes off his reflection in front of him. you tugged at your shirt, unhappy with the way it looked; like it was missing something.

“no,” you lied. “i don’t know. what if i screw this up and make you look bad?” darby laughed, glancing over at you before going back to his makeup.

“you’re worried about making me look bad?”

“well- yeah,” you admitted, still fiddling with your top. “and i don’t know about this outfit. maybe i should just wear my normal gear.” you started walking over to your bag to find a last minute alternative. darby set down his paintbrush and walked over to you, gently dragging you back over to the mirror.

“you look amazing. what don’t you like about it?” he asked, standing behind you and looking over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror. you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest as his hands remained on your arms.

“i feel like the top is missing something,” you admitted, not allowing yourself to be distracted by the scent of his cologne, a mixture of a sweet musky smell and a subtle bit of mint.

“i think you look great,” he mumbled as his eyes scanned the length of your body in the mirror, before he shook his head slightly, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. his hands resting on your biceps have you a stupid but enticing idea - something you had seen online once.

“don’t be nervous okay? you’re gonna do great.” darby rested his chin on your shoulder, making eye contact with you in the mirror, stepping impossibly closer to you until your back was pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around your stomach from behind. your breath caught in your throat; could it be possible that he also had feelings for you? surely friends didn’t look at eachother like that, you thought. darby walked back over to his paints and began putting them away, before you decided ‘fuck it’, and turned towards him.

“i actually did have an idea - for the shirt i mean; but it’s kinda hard to explain.”

“okay?” he looked at you expectantly, and you sighed, before walking over to him.

“do you trust me?” you asked, and darby looked at you confused, but nodded. you grabbed a larger paint brush from his open makeup case, along with the black paint and nervously took his wrist in your hand, turning his palm towards you.

“what are you-“

“just let me do this before i chicken out,” you said, and he smiled, laughing softly as you began to paint his hand black. once it was fully coated in paint, you did the same to the other hand; darby watching intently as you applied the dark pigment to his skin. you set the brush and paint down on the counter and carefully grabbed his wrist, bringing him back over to the mirror and standing in front of him again. taking each of his wrists in your hands, you brought them around you and placed his palms against your chest, leaving two black handprints on the front of your shirt, before you let go of his hands. you looked up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror as he let out a breath, the air tickling the back of your neck from how close he was once again.

“you are going to be the death of me,” he mumbled, and you turned around to look at him directly.

“isn’t death kind of your thing?” you asked, and darby laughed softly, looking down at you.

“i think i kinda have a thing for you, too.” he whispered, stepping as close as he could without smudging the paint on your shirt. he wanted to touch you so bad, to pull you closer, but couldn’t risk getting paint all over, so instead he pressed the unpainted side of his forehead to yours.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” he mumbled, and your heart pounded against your ribcage, before you replied with all the confidence you could manage.

“what’s stopping you?” darby cracked a smile, laughing to himself before he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed him back, and he had to remember not to touch you as his hands were still covered in paint, or he would’ve held you close. you pulled away, looking at his face to make sure his face paint hadn’t smeared too much. he smiled, pointing to your lip, and you looked in the mirror to see that there was a tiny bit of black paint there. you grabbed a tissue, wiping it off as darby walked over to his makeup case and grabbed some wipes to clean his hands off. once they were clean, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to him, gripping your waist and helping you sit on the counter in front of him. he stood between your legs, kissing you again; face paint be damned. his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, and you moaned softly before you both pulled away.

“i’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, using his thumb to wipe any paint off your lip.

“i’ve wanted you to; i just didn’t know how to ask.”

“you definitely found a creative way. the shirt looks great,” he smirked, admiring his handprints on your chest. you blushed, letting him help you off the counter, before he quickly touched up his own makeup.

“you feeling ready to go out there and kick some ass?” he asked, and you checked over your appearance one more time in the mirror.

“let’s do it,” you smiled, and darby tapped his fist gently against yours, before taking your hand in his, grabbing his skateboard with the other.

“do you think you could teach me to skate one day?” you asked as the two of you walked down the hallway to wait for your match to start.

“sure,” darby laughed. “if your dad doesn’t kill me when he sees your shirt.”

[reidsc0nverse]

A Rose by Any Other Name (Chapter Two)

Summary: Reader accompanies Emily to a club during a case where Spencer shows her one of his many talents with the help of the one and only Derek Morgan.

Warnings: Language (not much at all)

AN: This is based on episode 4x9 (obviously) and basically goes along with the story. Also let's pretend Courtney (the bartender) wasn't the object of Spencer's attention for his magic trick. K thanks.

Series Masterlist

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The other day when I walked through the doors of the BAU I was not expecting to be thrown into my job, but of course, it happened. 

I was in the technical analyst Penelope Garcia's office when all of a sudden JJ (as she now told me I can call her) went into labor. How wonderful.

I mean don't get me wrong I'm so happy for her, but I still had a good week of training that I could've used.

That was two weeks ago, so now I'm fully in my spot as Communications Liaison, and not to brag or anything.. I'm doing pretty well. 

Right now we've been working a case in Atlanta where a guy of the "Alpha Male" type would kill women that he would pick up from the local bars. The team came to the conclusion that he was getting his tips from a pick up artist that seems to be teaching his skills to other men. 

They call him "Viper" and, according to Emily, he's a real treat.

"He's a grade A asshole." she huffs walking into the room of the precinct I'm in. 

"That bad?" I ask and she slumps into the chair next to mine.

"He makes me wanna gauge my eyes out." She says, laughing, but clearly annoyed. So far while I've been on the team she and I have gotten pretty close and she's honestly one of my favorite people. 

"I'm so glad I wasn't there." I say, shaking my head. I've dealt with one too many narcissists on a personal level so if I had to listen to a guy go on for ages about how to play hard to get with a girl or blatantly insult them to get them attracted to him I'd probably lose my mind.

"Time to give the profile" Derek says as he sticks his head in the room. Emily sighs and walks out with me to the rest of the team. 

They go on giving out details to the local PD and I drone out until Spencer talks to me, or at me kind of. "I like those earrings, yeah my grandma has a lot of fake jewelry also." 

PARDON?

He smiles and waves it off as not serious, which I understood he was only exemplifying what our unsub does but it didn't diminish the fact that it was funny as hell. 

After the team finishes I get up and Spencer walks towards me, "Um, sorry about that. I just needed to show them what the unsub learned from Viper."

I laugh and wave him off, "No no don't apologize it's fine, it gave me a good laugh so I'm really not hurt by it."

He smiles and Hotch calls us over to where the rest of the team stands. 

They explain that we need to see about more of what the unsub may have learned back at the group discussions and they hint that Emily is gonna need to go back and talk to Viper.

"Oh. Oh god, this is really gonna suck." 

A little later, Emily comes to me after the team splits up with a cheeky look on her face and her hands behind her back.

"Y/NNNNN...." she drags.

"Oh god what do you want." I say playfully, already knowing what she's gonna say.

"You know, Derek is bringing Spencer as a wingman, so maybe you coulddd..."

"Fine fine, but if we're hitting the club I don't think my work attire is gonna cut it." I say, looking down at the blouse and black pair of pants I'm wearing. 

She shakes her head, "Ah, no worries, I have something you might fit in." She pulls out two dresses from behind her back and hands one to me.

"So you just happen to have party wear in your go bag?" I ask, looking at the black tight fit dress now in my hands.

"We go to some interesting places." She smirks and smacks my shoulder lightly, continuing, "Come on, I'll help you get ready." 

She takes my hand and we go to the PD locker room, getting changed and she gets her makeup out.

"I thought you hated this guy, now you're getting all dolled up." I tease her, she laughs and starts applying her eye makeup. 

"I take every opportunity I can get to look hot as shit with a job like this. Plus, we're still going to the club." She jokes back and after a couple minutes we're done getting ready and meet up with Derek and Spencer at the car.

"Heyy, looking good ladies." Derek says with a cocky smile and Spencer waves at me awkwardly. 

"How flattering." Emily says and then huffs, turning to me, "You better help me through dealing with this worm." 

"Of course" I say, hand on my heart and all.

Once we get to the club we decide to split up, Derek and Spencer asking girls in the club if they've seen anyone similar to our unsub, and Emily going up ahead of me while we face this nightmare of a man.

She tells me to stay back until the right time and I watch her play her game of flirting while continuing to intrigue the man. She looks back at me when he gets a little too confident and a little too close so I walk towards them, Viper's eyes following me carefully.

The conversation goes as usual, some mindless snarky remarks tossed around as he starts discussing eye contact, more specifically pupil dilation. 

"Okay fifteen seconds." Emily says in response to the eye contact that Viper has been making with me, and trying to prove a point.

"What do you see?" I ask.

"Nope, no dilation."

Viper comes quick with his response, "Ah, because you have someone else on the mind." 

Do I? Maybe. I don't know. No.

Emily eyes me teasingly and the conversation between us and Viper goes stale until he gives us just what we want for the case. He gives us that our unsub is going to go for his "queen bee," the focus on all his killing. 

Emily calls Hotch with our findings and I meet up with Derek and Spencer as they talk, or..bicker maybe.

"Come here pretty girl," Derek says to me, I comply, confused but still.

"Pretend she's someone you're showing the unsub to, use that magic." Derek says to Spencer, putting me in front of him, but he explains to me that apparently Spencer isn't having any luck giving the profile out to the girls at the club so now he's doing..magic?

I don't know how he's not having luck, he's an attractive guy. I would feel like girls would go crazy trying to talk to him but I guess not.

Spencer looks at me like he really doesn't wanna do this, but he goes with it anyway. "Don't worry I'll play along" I tell him and he seems comforted in that.

He begins by acting as though we've never met and asks me if I've seen the man in the drawing before, I nod no and he pulls out a pen.

"We have reason to believe he has a scar about right..here." He says, running the pen through the paper and moving it around, leaving no rips in the paper.

"Woah, woah. What? How did you do that?" I ask, inspecting the paper. 

He shrugs and smirks, "A magician never reveals his secrets." 

Derek laughs and pats his back, "That's what I'm talking about, pretty boy!" 

After the case ends smoothly we arrive at the BAU once again and settle everything down. I go to JJ's office which is mine temporarily and get some paperwork out of the way with Emily.

"So, don't mean to remind you of Viper, but, is there someone on your mind?" She asks teasingly.

"Oh god." I groan and put my face in my hands.

She snickers and responds, "Oh so there is!"

"Maybe." I say, dragging the word out. "But I don't know, he doesn't really know me that well."

She nods, I feel like she sees right through me.

"Seems like you and Spencer kind of had a good time earlier."

I choke on my own spit, "Um what?" I say, coughing. Covering my mouth as well as the slight pink coming onto my face.

She smiles and nods her head as a tall figure walks in the doorway. "Speak of the devil." She says and walks out, I look up and see Spencer, so now she's leaving me and him alone.

His eyebrows furrow, and I wave it off.

"Hello there, Houdini."  I say smiling up at him, he laughs and leans against the doorway.

"You know it's an easy trick, nothing up to Houdini's standard." 

I shrug. "Eh, still impressive." 

Things are quiet for a moment and there's a hint of tension in the air until he clears his throat and starts.

"You looked really nice today, by the way. Just thought I'd say." His face goes red and I smirk.

"You came all this well to compliment me?" I tease. He laughs sheepishly and shakes his head. 

"No, no. I was um, I was coming to ask you if maybe you wanted to grab a coffee or something. Maybe I could show you how I really do that trick?"

He was nervous, obviously. But that didn't help the grin on my face growing and trying to hold back the blush that's definitely growing on my face.

"I thought magicians couldn't tell anyone how they do their tricks." I reply, more calmly than I thought I would've, I mean I'm just trying to play it cool.

"I can make an exception. I'll let you know, I have your number right?"

I nod and he smiles again and sticks up an awkward thumbs up, "Cool. Well, I'll see you later." 

"Bye, Spencer" I say playfully and as we walks out to the hallway I peek out and see Derek standing by the doors that leave the office with a cheeky look. I can see the back of Spencer's head nod and Derek raise his arms, saying something but they're too far to hear. 

Guessing Derek convinced him to go for it. 

Good thing.

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I'm gonna be real and say I kinda hate this chapter but I promise it gets good. ALSO TYSM ON THE SUPPORT FOR THE LAST PART IM SO GRATEFUL UGH.

taglist: @darkenwolfie @justlivinginadaydream @daddy-dotcom @itsametaphorbriansblog @rosesandlavendertea @4karaa

[leviathanswingman]

killing me softly (with his song): chapter 7

pairing: DiaLuci, SoloDeus mentioned for like three sentences tops

words: 5458

chapters: 7/?

ao3

Lucifer was standing in front of the mirror, one hand on his collar as he swiftly closed the last button of his shirt. Asmodeus was busy hurrying through the room, all nerves and excitement. For the moment, he was quiet, but his movements were anything but, as he had already gotten changed into his outfit for the celebration, a tasteful combination of a sheer shirt, a baby pink corset, dress pants with an added train, and delicate heels. Lucifer found himself thinking that Asmodeus might just be the only demon in all three realms able to make such a busy outfit work.

Asmodeus had arrived two hours earlier with several bags and a heavy make-up case in tow.

It hadn’t taken him long to do Lucifer’s makeup in the grand scheme of things. After all, he was a professional in that regard. Of course, that certain professionalism hadn't stopped him from cooing ill-suited compliments along the way, which Lucifer decidedly ignored. 

Asmodeus came to a stop behind his brother and mustered him from head to toe. Slowly, he rounded him, his pointer on his bottom lip, before grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around to face him. 

“Look at you Lucifer!” he cooed. “There's practically nothing left for me to do. If you disregard little old me you'll definitely be the prettiest there!”

Lucifer let out a quick snort. “Stop talking nonsense. With the amount of guests we are expecting that would be an impossible feat. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Asmodeus put his hands on his hips. “Come on now! Flattery doesn't need to come with an end goal. A compliment is a compliment!”

“I disagree. Flattery seldom comes without hidden intentions.”

His little brother pursed his lips in disagreement before throwing up his hands. “Fine, be like that then. Lean down for me, would you? I still need to fix your hair.”

Lucifer sighed deeply but did as he was told. Quickly, Asmodeus unscrewed a small dish filled with hair gel and began working the product in. He skillfully pushed most of Lucifer's hair back, only leaving a few strands of his bangs to frame his face. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I'm almost done. You'll get wrinkles if you keep furrowing your brows.” Asmodeus fixed a few last strands, then clapped his hands together. “There you go!”

Lucifer lifted his head. Asmodeus had somehow managed to make him look quite put together. Against all odds, it was a satisfactory result.

A beat passed. “It looks good, thank you,” he said reluctantly. 

“Of course,” Asmodeus replied with a small smile and a giddy shake to his shoulders. For a moment it looked like he had more to say, but whatever it was never ended up leaving his lips. 

“Well,” he started, “as much as I appreciate our little brother-on-brother bonding time, I'll have to get going now. If I keep dawdling, Solomon might just grow tired of waiting for me. See you at the party!!“

Lucifer’s face slipped when Asmodeus dropped the sorcerer's name, but for once he chose to remain quiet on the topic, simply nodding him goodbye instead. 

Now left to his own devices again, his eyes darted back to the reflection in the mirror. For a moment he thought he saw it reaching out to him with one hand, the other bloodied as it clawed its way down his throat, all words left unsaid getting pulled out in crimson font not even he could decipher

Lucifer shook the intruding vision away and pressed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the illusion had passed, leaving nothing but a sense of unease behind.

He breathed out deeply. Admittedly, his reflection looked rather exquisite. As usual, Asmodeus had done an exceptional job. With the help of various tinctures and creams, he had successfully managed to hide the deep sat bags under Lucifer's eyes. Dabbles of concealer here and there were covering his otherwise sickly pale complexion. The most amount of time had been spent on his eyes. Shades of red blended together carefully were adorning his eyes, and with the slightest hint of eyeliner and mascara, the overall look pulled together quite nicely.

In the beginning, he had had his doubts about the whole ordeal, but looking at it now, he found himself surprisingly satisfied with the end result.

Asmodeus had kept his promise after all. Although the look was captivating, it was not overbearing. Of course, a look so flauntingly attention-grabbing was foreign to Lucifer, yet he felt confident in this elevated version of himself. After all, he wanted this last ruse of his to be executed perfectly.

The quiet notes of his cursed TSL soundtrack were filling the room as he went over to the closet and pulled out the remaining pieces of his outfit. For a moment he allowed himself to linger as he let his fingers run along the delicate seams and high-quality fabric of the black lace shirt he was already wearing. It was a daring item of clothing, alluring in nature, but not bold enough to be see-through.

Lucifer rechecked his buttons and ran the palm of his hand down his body, nodding in approval as he felt the fabric’s smoothness against his skin. It fit him like a glove. For his sanity’s sake, he did not waste any more time pondering how Asmodeus had gotten hold of his size to begin with.

Lucifer put on the rest of his suit and then stopped in his tracks as he considered the boots Asmodeus had picked out for him.

Once again, an item of clothing Lucifer himself wouldn't have chosen for such an important event. Still, he picked them up and sat down on the edge of his bed before slowly pulling them up.

After he was done, he walked over to the full-body mirror near his closet and studied his appearance. He looked elegant, his usual modesty replaced by the undeniable allure of dark lace and cunning heels. If Diavolo were to see him like this, perhaps-

Before Lucifer could suppress this particularly unwanted train of thought he was crudely reminded of his illness. Petals were inching their way up his throat and he coughed heavily to dislodge them. Regardless, his efforts were for naught. The petals he could feel so very clearly were stuck and refused to come free. Instead of coughing them out effortlessly, Lucifer ended up stuck, sinking to his knees as he realized that his only way out was to throw them up. Under his dressing table was a trash bin, so he grabbed it and quickly relieved himself. 

As soon as he was done he roughly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, getting rid of all evidence of what had just transpired.

Lucifer made his way towards the Demon Lord’s Castle where he was supposed to meet up with Barbatos and Diavolo. He arrived at the arranged time, stilling in front of the door, hesitating as his fingers lingered on the ornate doorknob. Lucifer straightened his already perfect posture, rolled his shoulders to ease the soreness, and then pushed the door open. 

It seemed like Barbatos had already been waiting for him. “Good evening, Lucifer,” he greeted. He mustered his colleague from head to toe and not soon after, a cordial smile spread across his face as he approached.

Barbatos looked barely any different from usual, except for the fact that his regular suit had been traded in for a slightly more adorned, festive one and his hair had been pulled out of his face. He nodded slightly as he circled Lucifer once. “I see Asmodeus has gotten his hands on you. Dare I say, it suits you quite well.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Thank you,” he said as he stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. “You look quite clean-cut yourself.” Lucifer scanned his surroundings and furrowed his brows. “I don't suppose Diavolo is hiding in that closet back there, so I must ask. Where is he?”

All of a sudden, there was the sound of a scuffle coming from outside of the door. For a second Lucifer thought he could hear Diavolo's voice, stifled by the door separating them, hot in a heated discussion. Once again, he felt flower buds piling up in his throat. Quickly, he coughed into the crook of his arm just as the noise started to quiet down again. He reached for the doorknob just as Barbatos touched his shoulder lightly.

“There is no need. We don't want the groom to see his spouse right before the event now, do we?” he said calmly, the expression on his face unreadable.

Lucifer turned around, suspicion growing. “Who were you calling a groom just now?” he asked, voice stern.

“A splendid question indeed.”Lucifer’s throat was still tickling dangerously, so he pulled out a handkerchief and coughed several petals into it. Barbatos mustered him with contempt. “You are aware that it does not have to end like this, yes?”

Lucifer threw him a particular look as he let the handkerchief slip back into his pocket. “There is no other way,” he stated, not in the mood to engage in yet another battle of wits. “I believe I have made my decision quite clear. I see no reason to change my mind.” After all, he had already come to terms with his fate. 

Despite it all, he still felt a certain kind of anxiety ghosting over his skin. He didn’t fear death. No, what he feared most was being forced to pry his clenched hands apart to let go.

His family, the angels, Diavolo. Would they truly be alright? In all honesty, Lucifer could not find the answer to this question, no matter how long he allowed it to wander through his brain. There was a heavy, dull feeling in his chest whenever he thought about it.

He knew his death would create an unmendable wound, but they would have to get over it, would have to feed off the pain, and grow from it.

After all, his brothers were no strangers to having to endure. Yuuta had been through a lot already, he knew how to bounce back. And Diavolo-

Diavolo would be heartbroken, this much Lucifer allowed himself to admit. Thinking about it too much only made his head hurt, so he forcefully shut down the downward spiral of his thoughts.

Diavolo had Barbatos and that would have to be enough. He would pull through as well. Lucifer coughed into the crook of his elbow. The hallway had grown silent again and with Barbatos by his side, he started heading towards the ballroom. 

The celebration was about to start and Lucifer still hadn't caught sight of Diavolo. Normally he would get restless and order an entire sweep of the premises to find the demon prince, but Barbatos' laissez-faire attitude made Lucifer doubt that Diavolo had simply chosen to evade his responsibilities. Something was going on, and the fact that Lucifer seemed to be the only person left out of the picture filled him with a sense of unease. He knew that in the best of cases, only Asmodeus and Barbatos were involved. Knowing his brothers, however, if one was involved that generally meant that the whole bunch of them was trailing behind like a gaggle of misbehaving baby chicks.

Lucifer sighed deeply. He forcefully shut down his train of thought, after all, there was nothing to be done about it at the moment. All he wanted was for the celebration to go down smoothly, but there was that nagging voice in the back of his mind promising him that irritatingly enough, that wouldn't be the case at all.

When Lucifer pushed the heavy door open, the first thing he noticed was that all of his brothers were present, mingling with the guests. All of his brothers were there on time. Not even Leviathan had to be coaxed out of his room. This had to be a fever dream.

Lucifer approached just as his eyes focused in on Leviathan clumsily standing in front of a guest, a young demoness wearing a lavish ball gown, apparently having run out of small talk material, so they were just awkwardly staring at each other as Levi fiddled with his hands and the demoness sipped at her drink.

Lucifer approached them and gracefully took over. “Good evening, you must be Lady Agiel. I hope your journey has been nothing but pleasant. I am Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride and Lord Diavolo's right-hand man,” he greeted, a pleasant smile on his face as he shook Lady Agiel's hand gently.

The woman flushed a deep red. “Lord Lucifer, your reputation precedes you. Thank you for your kindness, my journey has been nothing but agreeable. Please give Lord Diavolo my deepest regards, he has outdone himself once again,” she gushed as she let go of Lucifer's hand and cradled her flushed cheek. “Excuse my boldness, but you wouldn't know who the Young Lord intends to share his first dance with tonight? I am most curious.”

Lucifer's stomach did an uncomfortable flip, but he chose to ignore the sensation. 

“He will announce it before the dance,” he said curtly. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have other guests to attend to.” Lucifer indicated a bow before taking Levi by the shoulder to lead him away from their guests. As soon as they were out of earshot, Leviathan's shoulders slumped down. His hands were shaking as he timidly messed with his bangs.

“I really am a good-for-nothing shut-in,” he muttered as he kept his head down. “I tried, I really did.”

Lucifer put his hands on his hips as he thought of the best way to approach the situation. Social gatherings had always been hard on Leviathan. Due to his shut-in nature being around too many people made him freak out. It was surprising enough that he had made it to the ballroom without having to be dragged by the scruff of his neck. 

Gently, he put his hands on Levi's shoulders. “Levi,” he said and his little brother lifted his head. “You don't have to approach the guests unless you want to. That is my job. Stick to Yuuta or your brothers. I don't need you running around making yourself uncomfortable.” He ruffled through Levi's hair in a teasing manner. “Understood?”

“Hey, stop that,” Levi mumbled as he pushed Lucifer's hand away. He cleared his throat and awkwardly fumbled with his hands. “But thanks,” he added quietly. “I'll go find the others.”

Lucifer sighed as he straightened his posture and returned to his duties. More guests were arriving by the minute and he had to portray himself in the most positive of lights. 

He discreetly coughed into his handkerchief, and in the blink of an eye, there were specks of blood dirtying the white piece of cloth. Almost nonchalantly, Lucifer let the handkerchief slip back into his pocket. This was nothing new. It was almost perverse how used he had gotten to the fact that he was stuck spending evening after evening bleeding and spitting, fields of bloody petals growing beneath his feet with every step he took.

His chest felt constricted and it was becoming more difficult to hide the fact that he couldn't breathe all that much. Although thanks to Asmodeus' help, he looked pristine, he felt worn out.

Before the celebration, Lucifer had downed as many painkillers as were morally justifiable. Still, there was only so much painkillers could do when he was inevitably losing a race against time itself.

For a moment Lucifer removed himself from the celebration, rounding a few corners until he found an empty, remote hallway. Hidden from the public eye, he slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. His hand rose to grip his chest. Every time he tried to take a deep breath, there was the unmistakable sound of his lungs rattling, straining, struggling to keep up. 

Lucifer's chest felt heavy with discomfort as he pushed his hand flat against it.

His hand rested on his torso, right where his left lung was placed. He closed his eyes as he took a shallow breath. 

For a second he wondered how they would inevitably find him. The vivid image of sharp roots protruding from his lifeless body, his lungs cleanly pierced through, introduced itself to his mind. Who would find him lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, terrifyingly vibrant against the white marbled floor, pathetic and done for? Perhaps his brothers would be scurrying around desperately, and someone equally as important would lean over his body, screaming desperately as Lucifer took his last breath. Those wet, golden eyes, would be distraught in sorrow. And just like that, it would all be over. 

Lucifer forced himself to snap out of it and pushed himself off the wall, stumbling as he ignored his buckling knees. He straightened his posture and pulled up his DDD’s camera to check his appearance before making his way back to the celebration, leaving an empty hallway with several petals on the floor behind.

Back in the ballroom, Lucifer mingled with the guests for a while. Diavolo was still nowhere to be seen. His eye twitched in annoyance. Where was that bothersome demon? The celebration hadn't officially started yet, but the possibility of Diavolo being tardy horrified him.

As he overlooked the current state of the celebration, making sure that everything was going smoothly, he spotted two of his brothers. Lucifer approached Beelzebub who was sitting at one of the tables, a dead-asleep Belphegor slouched against his shoulder. Without hesitation, Lucifer flicked Belphie's forehead with two fingers. 

“Don't go and fall asleep anywhere you like,” he lectured as Belphie cussed quietly, rubbing his forehead with one hand and his eyes with another. “This is a celebration, not a sleepover.”

“But I'm tired,” Belphegor grumbled in reply. “Just let me sleep, I don’t see the issue here.” He blinked once, then glared at Lucifer, then blinked again in surprise. He looked up to Beel and suddenly started laughing. “Beel, look at that! He really let Asmo get to him!”

Lucifer's scowl deepened as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What are you trying to say? I don't see how there's anything wrong with it.”

Beel mustered Lucifer and nodded. “You look good, Lucifer,” he simply said as he grabbed the menu and stared at it for a moment. His stomach grumbled loudly. “When will they bring out the food? I'm hungry.”

Belphie was still wheezing, slapping his knee repeatedly as he tried to breathe. “Lucifer, you really let Asmo get his hands on you? You look like a real Prince Charming type now, you know that?” he mocked as he lazily stood up from the chair and stretched out his legs.

An icy look crossed over Lucifer's face as his fingers twitched. 

Belphegor knew exactly how pedantic Lucifer was about keeping up appearances in the public eye, so he knew he was safe for now.

Instead of punishing his little brother Lucifer put on a smile. “The compliment is much appreciated,” he pushed out through clenched teeth. Belphegor stuck out his tongue at him. 

Tomorrow, he would- oh.

Right.

In the heat of the moment, he had almost forgotten that there would be no tomorrow for him. All he had left was today. Lucifer didn't even realize he had frozen in place until he was brought back to reality by Mammon flailing his hand back and forth in front of his face.

“Oi, Devildom to Lucifer. Lucifer!” Mammon turned around to his brothers. “You guys break him or something?”

Taken by surprise, Lucifer grabbed Mammon by the wrist.

“Cease this madness. What do you think you're doing?”

“I was calling out for a while, but you weren't responding. I had to do something!” 

Lucifer snorted once and raised his hand as his brother quivered. Instead of being rough, Lucifer plopped his hand down on Mammon's head and messed with his thick locks.

“Aaah!” he yelled out but then stopped quickly as he realized he wasn't in any sort of danger. “Hey! Stop it, don't treat me like a dog!” Mammon complained.

A short moment later Lucifer dropped his hand and chuckled softly. “I was distracted, that's why I didn't react,” he explained. “I'll go looking for Barbatos, so don't cause any more issues, do you hear me? Don't cause me any more headaches.”

With that, Lucifer turned around in search of Barbatos, leaving behind a confused Mammon who stood frozen in place for a moment. “No way,” he mumbled, stupefied.

“Well that was something,” Belphie murmured from where he was leaning against a wall, his eyes already halfway shut again. “Seems like something managed to thaw Lucifer's icy innards.”

Mammon quickly whipped around to his brothers. “You saw that too?! That wasn't just a weird daydream??”

“Yup.”

“I saw it too.”

“Just wait until Yuuta hears about this,” he said, bewildered. “Oi, Yuuta!! You’ll never believe what just happened!” Mammon took off running. 

Beelzebub and Belphegor simultaneously shook their heads in amusement. “Mammon really is his favorite, huh,” Beel said as Belphie started nodding off again.

“I'm just glad it isn't me. That would be awkward-” he mumbled as he yawned. “Like really-”

In the blink of an eye, he had fallen asleep again without even finishing his sentence. Beelzebub's expression shifted.

Having to watch Lucifer fulfill his duty filled him with a profound sadness. After all, he knew his brother quite well and it was painfully apparent that he was putting on an act.

For a split second Beel found himself pushing the blame onto himself and his brothers. If only they had noticed earlier, would it have changed things? In hindsight, there had been so much evidence, so many strange behaviors coming from Lucifer, yet they had all shrugged it off as him being his regular overworked self. Was there anything they could have done to make him open up to them? 

Realistically, there was nothing that could’ve changed the outcome. Their fall had shifted something in their dynamic, had forced Lucifer to build impossibly high walls to become the picture-perfect big brother he was never meant to be. Now, their only chance at saving him was the plan they'd come up with. That plan, however, was anything but foolproof and relied mostly on Lucifer's compliance.

None of them could imagine what kind of world they would wake up to tomorrow. All they had left was pure faith that Lucifer would for once put his pride aside. Still, faith itself had never done them any good.

Beelzebub sighed as he picked up the menu again. He stared at it but realized that he had lost his appetite.

Lucifer crossed the ballroom in search of Barbatos, side-stepping lingering guests that were lost in idle conversations as they sipped sparkling demonus and waited for Diavolo’s welcome speech.

Finally, Lucifer spotted the back of Barbatos' head near the entryway.

“Barbatos!” he called out and the demon turned around to him.

“Lucifer,” he nodded. “Good to see you again. What may I help you with?” Barbatos checked his pocket watch before looking up again.

Lucifer crossed his arms and leaned forward. “You know exactly why I'm here,” he hissed in a hushed tone. “Diavolo still hasn't made an appearance and he is supposed to hold his speech in five minutes. The fact that you aren't even batting an eye is telling me that you know something I don't. I am tired of this unwarranted secrecy. Where is he?” A server carrying a tray filled with various glasses of demonus passed them by and Lucifer grabbed a glass, taking a heavy sip. “Don't you think an explanation would be proper?”

His irritation made him forget himself and not soon after, Lucifer was sent into another severe coughing fit. Pushing the handkerchief he carried with him to his mouth, he managed to calm down rather quickly, but not without noticing the alarming amount of blood he had just coughed up. He washed down the copper taste with demonus. 

Slowly, he turned back around to the guests, checking if anyone had seen too much. Everyone still seemed to be lost in different conversations, so he was quite sure that no one had noticed. The only thing seemingly out of place was Asmodeus, who was surrounded by countless fawning demons but seemed to have his full attention on Lucifer. With one hand on his chest and the other safely hooked around Solomon’s waist, he stared at him for a moment, his eyes pleading, before he turned back around again. Solomon remained by his side, Asmo’s arm in his even when their closeness seemed to bother Asmo’s admirers. The sorcerer placed a kiss atop Asmo’s pristine curls. Lucifer watched them with disdain. He found himself wondering, as he did quite often, what it could possibly be that Asmodeus saw in that troublesome man. 

He turned back to Barbatos, who had begun typing something on his DDD before looking up at Lucifer again. “Going back to your previous assumption, yes I am aware as to why Lord Diavolo hasn't arrived yet. It is a non-issue, therefore I would advise you to calm yourself.”

“Calm myself?” Lucifer asked, not even raising an eyebrow as he mustered Barbatos. “Am I not perfectly calm?” Before he could keep going, he suddenly heard the chatter around him increasing in volume. Shreds of a particular conversation caught his attention.

“You said he'd be here, so where is he? You know how worried I am.”

The voices were coming closer. 

“Open your eyes. He's back there with Barbatos, you can see them from here.”

“Now don't be like that, Satan. Don’t you think showing some respect would be appropriate?” another voice added in a soft tone. 

“You must be mistaken. That cannot be Lucifer. He would not wear-”

The voice was cut off just as Lucifer turned around towards the commotion. 

Diavolo was staring at him intensely, his cheeks dusted bright red as he let his gaze wander from the top of Lucifer's head to the bottom of his soles. The demon prince was wearing a dark suit, decorated with a pristine panel of roses across his chest that almost looked like stained glass. Satan and Simeon were by his side. 

Lucifer left Barbatos’ side and approached them. “Satan and Simeon, I am relieved to see you have made it on time. Diavolo,” he greeted. “Pray tell, where have you been all this time? I already feared you would miss out on your own celebration and someone,” he threw Barbatos a side glance, “didn't see the need to inform me of whatever is going on.”

Barbatos joined them. “It must have slipped my mind. I apologize for any harm I may have caused.”

“Do not jest with me, Barbatos.”

Diavolo left Satan and Simeon to their own devices and walked over to his closest companions.

“Lucifer,” he said calmly. The corners of his mouth pulled up into a gentle smile. “May I mention that you look positively breathtaking?” 

Lucifer's heart stopped in his chest. Suddenly, he found himself unable to look Diavolo in the eye. 

“Don’t speak such unnecessary words.” 

Before he could foresee it, Diavolo had crossed the distance between them and was already encasing him in a bone-crushing hug. He was being pulled in tight by the waist and Lucifer did his best not to let unwanted thoughts wander when he felt strong hands on his back. 

Some of the guests were turning their heads to enjoy the show, whispering from behind lifted hands, and seeing the way they watched them in such a compromising situation made Lucifer's cheeks turn a telling shade of red.

“Diavolo, please, we are in public,” he forced out and Diavolo released him from the embrace, yet slid his hands up so they could rest on Lucifer's shoulders. “I am aware,” he said softly. “You may fault me for not caring if anyone sees.”

Simeon nudged Satan and threw Lucifer an amused look. It didn't fly over his head how easy it would be to misconstrue his words. 

Once again, Diavolo mustered his right-hand man from head to toe. Lucifer didn't miss the way his eyes were roaming over his body and he felt exposed. As he made eye contact with Diavolo he couldn't help but feel captured by those fierce eyes. The way they were shining in the dim light, Lucifer was stuck between feeling impassioned and intimidated.

“I have never seen you like this, Lucifer. What a powerful thing you've been hiding from me! You look absolutely breathtaking, no, stunning even! What a sight to see you are!”

The way Diavolo always managed to gush about Lucifer as if he were the greatest gift to the Devildom never failed to bewilder him. How was he expected to stay professional and humble when Diavolo threw all societal correctness to the wind to act this daring? The roots in his chest tightened in a sudden painful grasp and Lucifer shivered as he suppressed the urge to flinch.

“Diavolo,” he said, his fingers, for once gloveless and exposed, curling around Diavolo's hands which were still locked tightly on his shoulders. “Do not forget yourself.”

The demon prince sighed. “How can I not when you make it such an easy feat?”

Slowly, he brought their hands down again. Just as he was about to let go, his gaze fell onto the sight of their hands together, joined in unison.

Slender, scarred fingers with nails painted red wrapped around tan, unblemished hands that told tales of a cushy life. He looked up to see that Diavolo had been watching him closely and Lucifer quickly pulled his hands free. “I apologize, it seems I have lost my focus.”

“That would make two of us then. Do not apologize.” 

Lucifer's head was throbbing and his chest felt incredibly strained.

His eyes focused in on Diavolo's appearance and he almost sighed in relief when he found a good enough distraction. “Your clothes are all wrinkled. Are you truly planning to hold a speech looking like that? Your tie as well. Were you drunk when you attempted to tie it? As our next leader, you should pay more attention to the details.” Despite being chided, Diavolo looked quite content. “Perhaps something else has caught my attention.”

Lucifer smoothed down Diavolo's clothes before nodding toward a somewhat hidden corner of the room. “Stop talking nonsense. You have no business getting distracted. Follow me and we shall head over there. I am not going to disrobe you in front of all our guests. What would they think?” 

Barbatos threw Diavolo an indecipherable look. Satan raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth. Before he could speak up, Simeon was already by his side again, his overly friendly smile reason enough to overthink his actions. 

They moved over to the corner and Lucifer quickly untied Diavolo's tie. He tutted his tongue. “Why didn’t Barbatos help to dress you today?”

“One might say something came up. I needed time to think and Barbatos was quite happy to check the ballroom one last time.”

Lucifer tied the knot a bit too harshly before undoing it and redoing it again.

“You should know better. The both of you.”

“Perhaps.” Diavolo lowered his voice. “More importantly, how are you faring? How is your-”

Lucifer pulled him down by the tie and Diavolo swallowed deeply as he looked down on him.

“There's no time to dawdle. Your speech.” He released him again. “Don’t make your people wait.”

Diavolo grabbed Lucifer by the arm before he could walk off. “Wait,” he mumbled. He reached for Lucifer's right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly. “Thank you, Lucifer.” He let go quickly and was gone before Lucifer could come up with an appropriate answer.

Lucifer pressed his hand against his bleeding heart, relieved that the dark corner could shield him from curious eyes as he broke out in a severe coughing fit. 

His knees buckled and he found himself forced to grip the nearest table for support. His ears were ringing and his heart was rabbiting. 

Slowly, he returned to Barbatos’ side. Diavolo was already making his way towards the podium. Side by side, they came to join him, with Barbatos on his left and Lucifer on his right.

With his arms crossed behind his back, he put on a favorable mask as Diavolo started to thank the guests for coming.

Half an hour later, Diavolo ended his speech, his arms spread and smile broad as he opened the banquet. 

[the-guilty-writer]

Where Did The Time Go?

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader,  Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: Rossi (eventually -Reid) goes on her first case with the team.

A/N: This is set pre S1E1. In that episode we find out that there is an opening at the BAU and that one of Gideon’s friends died in the blast (I’d imagine the other 5 agents were from SWAT, not the BAU). So Agent Archie Reeves is an OC that fills that spot. He’d be closer to Gideon’s age and probably a long time friend of his, but I imagine he transferred to the Quantico team after RR graduated high school and Rossi retired so he wouldn’t know her very well.

CW: typical criminal minds stuff

---

It was 3 AM when you got a call from Gideon, telling you to get to the BAU as fast as possible. It was like experiencing a strange form of deja vu- you’d never been called in the middle of the night for a case, but your childhood was filled with waking at strange hours to give your dad a hug before he left to save the world. You got dressed quickly, not bothering to put on makeup, grabbed your go bag and headed out of your apartment. Everything about it was different than when you were little, except the clicking sound of the lock on the door- that was still, somehow, the same.

The entire drive to Quantico, you felt your blood begin to rush. When you got into the elevator with Agent Reeves, you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin and your heart was about to beat out of your chest. The other agent smiled at you.

“So,” he drew the word out. “Are you ready to work your first case?”

“If we want to be technical, I’ve been working cases since I was about fifteen. This is just the first time I’m on the payroll,” you said, not looking at Reeves. It was true. As a teenager you used to procrastinate your homework by watching the other agents. A few times you got daring and would take a case file or two from someone’s office while they weren’t looking. They never did catch you.

Gideon was already there, of course, as was Hotch. They were sitting at the conference room table already, talking to JJ.

You weren’t sure what to think of the young blonde. She was added to the team at the same time you were, but of course she had been training to be the team communications coordinator while you spent most of your time working on files alone or working together with Spencer while Gideon advised the two of you. You’d only just met her last week and the two of you hadn’t had much time to talk about anything other than paperwork. She seemed nice enough, but she also reminded you a little too much of the mean girls in high school.

“Take a seat,” Hotch said as he looked over some paper. “Morgan is talking to Garcia. We’re just waiting on Reid to get here and then we can get started.”

You took your normal seat and then pulled out your phone, sending a message to your dad that you were most likely going to be out of town. He would know what you meant. You hoped he would be proud.

Morgan walked into the room with his usual swagger and sat down just before Spencer rushed into the room- looking slightly more dishelved than normal. It was a good look, you decided, when Spencer looked a bit bedraggled with his loose tie slightly crooked and his hair not gelled down as smooth as normal.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said and took a seat next to you.

“Let’s get started,” Gideon said, ignoring Spencer’s apology.

JJ began to present the case and for some reason, you couldn’t help but remember that she was older than you by about three years. You and Spencer wouldn’t have been the first very young agents in the unit- your dad and Gideon had been no older than 23 when they joined the BSU. But that was back before being a part of the BAU was something elite.

Spencer’s reason for being picked for the team was obvious, but the only thing obvious about why you were there was because you were a Rossi. You hoped that wasn’t the only reason.

JJ finished presenting the case, but it was clear that the team would need to be on scene. “Would you like to do the honors, Hotch?” Gideon asked.

“Wheels up in twenty,” Hotch responded.

---

The jet was really cool.

Like, really cool.

You sat next to the window and began to go over the case file. There were a few theories you had running through your mind, but there wasn’t enough evidence to bring them to conclusion. You knew that once the team got to the local precinct, could walk the crime scenes, and talk to more people the profile would become far more clear.

The rest of the team was talking, and you were listening, but you didn’t speak. It wasn’t in your nature to be quiet, but you figured that being on your first case called for taking a back seat. Spencer had just finished answering a statistics question when Gideon looked at you. “(Y/N),” he said. “Do you see anything?”

You thought about it for a second. There was one thing…

“There are a few behavioral conflicts,” you said. Just letting the words slip out of you created a fire in your belly- burning with the desire to prove yourself and your worth. “He chooses lower class women and his signature shows that he hardly cares about them, but he dresses them before dumping their bodies.”

“Why does that matter?” Morgan asked. Of course it would have been Morgan who questioned you. Hotch and Gideon had all known you for years, you could already tell that Reeves was more of a scoffer than a questioner, and Spencer was too timid to say anything.

“It’s something to keep in mind,” said Hotch.

“Alright,” Gideon said. “Spencer and Reeves go to the precinct. Hotch, you and Morgan go walk the second crime scene and (Y/N) and I will walk the first.”

You should have been relieved that you were paired with Gideon, but something about it was unsettling. You just didn’t know what yet.

---

Walking the crime scene was far different than looking at photos of them. The body was gone and the area was cleaned, but the feel and stench of death still lingered in the air; you wondered if it always would be, if the ground was forever tainted by invisible blood stains and the shadow of murder.

You and Gideon inspected the scene, holding up photos to try to tell what it was like. Gideon continued to ask you questions, testing your ability to read the behavior. You just hoped that he would correct you if you were wrong. You could make a fool out of yourself in front of Gideon- to him you would always be young and naive- but you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of anyone else.

When you and Gideon got back to the precinct the rest of the team was already there. You walked over to the evidence board where Reid was working on a geographical profile.

“I might not have a PhD in mathematics, but don’t you need at least three crime scenes to create a true geographical profile?” You looked at his handiwork.

“Yes,” he said, still concentrated on drawing some lines. “I just want to be prepared in case something else comes up.”

“Well,” Hotch said, walking into the room and tossing a file down onto the table. “We finally got the M.E. report.”

You abandoned Reid and his maps in favor of going over to the table to look at the new information. You had to wedge yourself around Morgan to get a look, but as soon as you saw it, you knew.

You didn’t even think twice about your words. “He’s got limp dick syndrome.”

Hotch choked on his coffee and began to snicker. You could see how hard it was for him to hold in his laughter as he brought a fist to his mouth in an effort to cover his smile. It was nice to see his serious demeanor crack. Even after all these years, you were still Rossi’s daughter who got distracted from her homework while watching (and pestering) young Special Agent Hotchner as he tried to piece together a profile.

“You-” he cut himself off and pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath to compose himself. Still, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. “Don’t say that in front of the local officers.”

“Okay, well then you can go tell Gideon.” You smirked as well. As he left the room to find the senior agent, Hotch still struggled to get his serious face back.

You turned back to the papers and began to look through them more thoroughly, when you felt someone looked at you. You turned to see Morgan and Reid looking utterly confused, seemingly at the events that just transpired. “What?” you asked.

“Hotch… laughed?” Reid said, though it sounded more like a question. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do more than a half-hearted grin.”

“I didn’t even think he had a sense of humor,” Morgan agreed. He lounged back in a chair. “So is there anything in the report we don’t already know?”

“He always stabs them twice, but one is always just done to inflict pain while the other one is used for the actual kill.” you explained. “It indicates impotence.”

Reeves walked into the room as you were talking. “How do you know it isn’t symbolic, or that he’s just bad at anatomy?”

You didn’t even bother to look at Reeves. Challenges only ever lit you up. “Because the one to the stomach is always done post mortem-”

“How do you know?”

“Lack of blood,” you snapped and slid the paper over to him. “Which is just basic knowledge on how the body works after death, but it’s also written in the report in case you want to see it yourself.”

Reeves gave you a look before going over the report. You wanted to stand by the evidence board with Reid and get your brain working, but Morgan was pacing the area as he explained something to the young genius that he probably already knew. You settled for busying yourself by reading over some of the detective’s notes, even though you’d read them all on the jet.

Soon enough, Gideon and Hotch entered the room and began to put the profile together. You watched and listened carefully, asking for clarification on a few things. Gideon even challenged you with a few questions, which you all got correct.

“Alright, half the officers that need the profile are here and the other half of them are across town,” Gideon said once he was satisfied with the information put together. “Hotch and Reeves, you wanna take it over there and Morgan and I will handle things here.”

Hotch gave his boss a nod and he and the other agent left.

“We’d better get started here,” Gideon said. “If we can canvas enough area we might be able to catch this guy before he murders a third time.”

You were familiar with a lot of things at the BAU, but this would be your first official time listening to a profile presentation. You stood next to Reid in the back corner, watching and listening as Gideon and Morgan relayed the information to the officers. As soon as they finished, you went back to the evidence board. Reid went back to the map again.

You wondered if it was a habit of his to try to stay in his comfort zone. You’d wanted to get your hands on every piece of information this case had to offer, but Spencer seemed satisfied with checking and double checking his quiet work, refining it. You knew that geographical profiling wasn’t your personal interest, but you figured that with Spencer’s intelligence he would want to be looking over and taking everything in too.

“Hey, Reid,” you called to him. You already knew the answer to the question you were going to ask him, but the Rossi in you couldn’t help but meddle with him a little bit. “Didn’t we study a case similar to this one last week?”

“Oh, uh- no,” he said, his voice timid.

“Are you sure?” you asked. Now you were looking at him. And he was looking at you as if you were going to eat him. Still, you raised your eyebrows, and crossed your arms, pushing further.

“W-we did the week before that,” he stuttered out, avoiding eye contact.

You sauntered toward the map and stood next to him. Spencer looked up at you briefly, but otherwise stood there, arms crossed, head tilted. “What do you remember about it?”

Spencer swallowed. “I-uh- it was pretty much the same except for the post-mortem stab wound was in a different location.”

“And the city was different,” you pointed out. “And the dump site locations, and the victim type.”

“Y-you’re right.”

You shrugged a shoulder, trying to get Spencer to relax. “Tell me what else was different.”

Spencer took a deep breath and began to relay details of the case. His voice stayed quiet and his body language closed off, but as he talked more and more you noticed a bit of confidence start to shine through in his eyes.

It was something you’d remember for later.

Spencer finished telling you about the case just as Gideon came in the door. “Come on. We’re all going back to the hotel to try to get some rest. Start with fresh eyes in the morning.”

This was one of those cases that were rare- the kind where there wasn’t any sign or signal that the unsub would kill soon, so you were supposed to actually sleep. But you didn’t want to.

You wanted this case solved and the unsub caught. But more than anything you wanted to stop feeling like you were doing nothing.

You allowed yourself 15 minutes for a shower and then laid down in bed, but still allowed your mind to work. You relayed the details of the case over and over again in your mind, wishing that you had Spencer’s memory. After a while, staring at the ceiling wasn’t cutting it anymore. You needed something to write with. You dug blank paper and a pen out of your bag and began to write.

Until this case was over, your days would be filled with sleepless nights.

---

After four days, very little in the profile had changed. The age range was narrowed down, the type of vehicle the unsub might drive, a few possible occupations he might have, but overall the profile was static. Without another body there was no way to complete the geographical profile. Gideon was talking to the local station about the team going home, leaving them with the profile to work on their own until there was more evidence or a change. The control level of the unsub was immaculate and it was entirely possible you’d have to wait months before any progress was made on the case.

You didn’t like it one bit. Running off about two hours of sleep and more espresso than one person should ever be allowed to have at a time, you dug through the evidence and the profile again and again, looking for some important bit that you had overlooked before.

“Are you trying to memorize this case?” Morgan asked.

“No,” you told him, not giving him an alternate reason why you were going over everything again. Unlike Morgan, you hadn’t been sleeping. You had been working.

“Well, then.” Morgan stood up. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want any, Reid?”

“No thanks,” Reid said quietly.

“Alright, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked and left the room.

You and Reid continued your futile work. The joke Morgan made about you memorizing the case wasn’t true, but if you had to look over the files one more time you might-

“Huh,” Reid let out a small sound from his place at the table. It was so small, you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time with him working on consults already.

You looked at him. “What is it?”

“Oh,” Spencer cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” you retorted. You knew Spencer didn’t have it in himself to be sure about things in profiles that were purely theoretical. While training with him and Gideon, it was you who veered just far enough out of the box to find something interesting or odd that was always worth checking out. Spencer liked precedent. Spencer liked his box. “You can tell me, Spencer. It’s just me.”

Spencer hesitated. “The joke Morgan made… it made me think about how on the first day you had me tell you the details of the case we studied.” He stopped and looked away from you. 

“Go on,” you encouraged.

“He didn’t dress his victims. He covered them and positioned them as a show of remorse, but he didn’t dress them.”

You blinked.

“On the jet you pointed out that the victims were all dressed,” Spencer said, his previous tone of hesitation starting to leave his speech entirely. “And we profiled that it was a show of remorse, but the extremity of it makes me think it’s possible that the unsub is even more remorseful than we thought. That could be why he waited so long between kills, too. We said it was because of his control level, but maybe it’s because the unsub feels so guilty about it that he has to take that long to recover- almost like it puts him into a depressive state.”

“That changes over half the profile,” Gideon said. He walked through the door, Reeves just behind him. “Any other evidence?”

Reid looked slightly like a deer in the headlights. He turned slightly towards you, but you shook your head. Spencer was the one who found it- he should be the one to present it.

“The women were both dressed in the same style,” he started, a little more quiet since he knew people were there. “We might be able to find out more about him through that.”

Morgan, who had joined by now, looked at you. “Alright, what style are our victims wearing?”

Internally, you rolled your eyes-just because you were the only woman in the room didn’t mean you would know, even though you did. “They’re dressed like middle-class, white picket fence mothers,” you told him. “It doesn’t line up with the victims' ages, social class, or occupation.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Reeves said, walking into the room and taking down the profile.

---

Spencer was right. It only took another 48 hours and a lot of digging on Garcia’s part to find the unsub, who felt so horrible he confessed in a fit of tears the moment Hotch showed him a crime scene photo. Just like the new profile had proposed, the unsub was a man in his late 50s in a state of psychosis, trying to recreate the woman he had loved many many years before.

Everyone on the team was amazed by Spencer’s breakthrough, and you were too, of course. Reeves and Morgan were praising him with bro-style pats on the back, while Hotch and Gideon stuck to simple phrases like “Excellent work” and “I’m impressed”. You stuck with words as well, but yours felt more real- “I’m proud of you”.

You sat at the back of the jet alone, looking out the window and wishing that you’d drank less coffee than you had. Your caffeine induced consciousness didn’t stop you from feeling exhausted. Sleep would have been nice, considering you’d gotten none the night before.

“Hey.” Gideon put a hand on your shoulder as he walked by. “You doing alright?”

“I’m fine.” You’d grown up with profilers. If there was anyone in the world that could outsmart them it was you, and the years of training to hide your tells and keep yourself cool didn’t fail. Gideon only nodded and walked to the other side of the jet.

With your gaze turned away from the window, you noticed Spencer peaking at you from over the top of his book. You caught his eye before looking away, knowing that he would take it as an invitation to come over if he wanted. Your last interaction alone with him had been quite intense. You hadn’t been trying to scare him, but even you knew that you could be a pusher and a fighter and a little too much at times.

And Spencer was almost the complete opposite.

He was so quiet coming to sit across from you that you almost wanted to make a joke about it, but your brain was functioning at half capacity and you weren’t going to embarrass yourself with sub-par sarcasm.

“Hey,” you spoke first. It seemed like with Spencer you always spoke first. You hoped that would eventually change.

“Hi.” Spencer looked down awkwardly at his hands. You stayed silent, watching him, your energy running low.

“You know,” he started, without looking up, “I wouldn’t have figured it out without you.”

You shook your head. “You’re brilliant, Spencer. You would have.”

He paused, thinking. You figured that Spencer was the kind of person who thought a lot, but the way he was taking the pause was more like he was thinking about his words and less like he was thinking of some complex theoretical equation. 

“You’re not just you.”

Instantly, you were confused. “What?”

Spencer looked down again, and then back up at you. “When you encouraged me to tell you about what I had thought of, you said “It’s just me”, but you’re not just you.”

You smiled tiredly at him. “Thanks, Spence.” If you were the type of person to spill your heart and soul out to people, you probably would have told Spencer how much that meant to you; that it helped you feel a spark of worthiness inside for just a split second. How his words made you believe for only a moment, that you belonged on the team. But you weren’t that type of person, so instead you just said, “That means a lot.”

Spencer smiled awkwardly and leaned back in his seat. Suddenly feeling relaxed enough to rest, you closed your eyes and drifted off into a much-needed sleep.

---

“Someone get (Y/N) up,” Hotch said before exiting the jet. He knew full well that if he didn’t make a beeline down the stairs, he’d have to be the one to do it.

Reeves was quick to follow him. Morgan was always slow to pack up at the end of a case, having usually discarded his jacket, bag, papers, and CD player in various locations around the jet. Gideon and Spencer were almost done with a chess match, as long as things turned in Gideon’s favor for the fifteenth time in a row.

Morgan gathered his things and then took the opportunity to fluster Spencer a bit, but in Morgan’s defense it was for Spencer’s own good. “You heard, Hotch,” Morgan said as he leaned against the side of the jet. “Go wake her up, pretty boy.”

Spencer felt himself flush. “What? No! You do it. I’m in the middle of a game!” The high pitch of his voice gave it all away.

Gideon repressed a smile. “Check in three.”

At those words, Spencer got back into focusing on the chess match. Morgan sighed. That was Gideon’s subtle way of settling the situation, like a father ending an argument about who was responsible for doing the dishes that night.

Morgan. The answer was that Morgan was responsible for doing the dishes that night.

He wasn’t subtle in his approach to wake you, he simply turned, brought his hands to the side of his mouth and yelled, “Rossi!”

You snapped awake at the sound of your name being called, and looked to see that it was Morgan who called you.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got paperwork before we go home.”

You nodded and gathered your things, hurrying off the jet after him.

“Checkmate,” Spencer said.

Gideon looked down at the board to see that Reid had captured his king. Morgan’s reason for coming over to them had been to fluster Spencer, but hearing him call you by your last name, the way people had addressed your father for so many years, had flustered Gideon instead.

You were no longer the child that colored on the back of scraped reports, or the teenager that made it a point to bother new trainees by showing them that a 16 year old could put together a practice profile faster than they could, you weren’t even the college graduate that he’d written a card to, congratulating you on your accomplishments and wishing you luck on further adventures.

You were an adult. An agent. A profiler.

Where did the time go?

---

Taglist:

@doctorsteeb@saturnluvvr@padsfirewhisky@staygoldsquatchling02@mycoolusernamesstuff@reidstileschishiya@rory-cakes @star-wars-lover

[atths--twice]

The Journey Home

After the fear surrounding their failed reunion, Scully realizes that the only place she and William need to be is with Mulder- wherever that may lead.

I wrote this story last year for the MSR Fanzine and today I am able to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it.

Late January, 2002

9:58 p.m. 

The apartment was lit by only a couple of lights as Scully placed clothes into the large, black duffel bag that sat on her bed. She was precise with her choices; only packing what she needed now and not further into the future. 

Taking her dark blue toiletry bag into the bathroom, she added only the bare minimum of items. Soaps, shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste, tampons, and her makeup bag. Zipping the golden zipper, she switched off the light and left the room. 

Packing it beside her sweaters, she picked out three pairs of shoes. Boots and a pair of sneakers were added to the duffel, the other pair left out to be worn. She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. 

“Nearly done. Come on,” she whispered and then opened her eyes. 

Adding a blanket to the duffel, she looked around the room before nodding as she zipped and secured the bag. Carrying it silently out of her room, she set it beside William’s matching bag she had packed earlier that day. 

Every article of his clothing, extra diapers and wipes, blankets, some toys, extra bottles, her breast pump, and his own toiletry bag were packed, ready for their rapidly approaching departure. 

From the kitchen chair, she picked up the backpack she would now be using as William’s diaper bag. 

Running her hand along the back side of it, she drew in a breath, tears stinging her eyes as she thought of the other contents it held. 

Three days ago, she had come to the Gunmen’s at their request, where they presented her with items Mulder had asked them to procure before he’d had to leave.  

Doctored passports, driver’s licenses, social security cards, and birth certificates. A handful of credit cards bearing fake names that had been chosen. A substantial amount of cash, along with information to account numbers for three bank accounts, all of them in different names that matched the drivers licenses. 

“He didn’t tell me,” she had whispered, looking at the picture of herself on a license which bore the name Sally Stenson. 

“He wanted to be sure things were ready, just in case they would be needed,” Byers had said and she laughed out a small sob. 

“Well, they definitely are,” she had said, remembering how she felt just a couple of days ago as she stood on the train platform, watching the train passing her by, knowing Mulder had been on it and she had been unable to reach him. Sighing, she set the license down. 

“Alright,” Frohike had said suddenly and rather gruffly, picking everything up. “I got this.” He had left the room without looking back and she stared after him in confusion. 

Byers had sighed and when she looked at him, she saw sadness in his and Langly’s eyes. 

“It’s not how I want this to be,” she had said and Byers shook his head as he touched her arm and attempted a smile. 

“No. It’s how it needs to be.” 

Late last night, a soft knock sounded at her apartment door and for a second she had stood frozen. She had reached for her gun and walked quietly to check who it was and had seen Frohike standing on the other side, holding a beat up leather backpack in his hands. 

“It’s all in here,” he had said, stepping across the threshold as she closed the door and set the gun down on the table. “This is an old backpack of mine that I used a long time ago. There’s space that I created between the lining where I would put stuff I didn’t want seen by the fuzz. I’ve put everything of yours in there and sewn it up, to keep it hidden. When you get where you’re going… you take it out and keep it somewhere safe.” 

“Frohike,” she had breathed, taking the backpack from him. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking down at the ground and then back up at her. “Be careful. Take care of each other.” 

“We will. Thank you.” 

She hugged him, thanking him again, and he left immediately after the embrace had ended. 

He had done the job perfectly. No one would ever suspect what was hidden within the backpack unless they literally tore it apart. 

Placing it beside the duffel bags, she clasped her hands together and looked around the apartment that she had lived in for so long. 

Anything that held sentimental value had been taken to her mother’s house two days ago for safekeeping, including the fish tank and all the fish. Everything else would be taken care of once she and William were gone, Byers had assured her, though she found she was not really worried about it. 

Leaving behind the physical was surprisingly easy, with the exception of her mother. 

Her mother understood why they had to leave, but that did not mean she wanted it to happen. It had been a very tearful goodbye and watching her holding William until the last possible second, had almost caused Scully to change her mind. 

Almost. 

But she had to go. And they both knew it. 

There were too many worries and questions that weighed on her and she needed to be with Mulder to figure them out.  

Glancing at the clock with a sigh, she hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower, change her clothes, and put on her sneakers. 

Hurrying through her last few tasks, a light knock sounded at the door and she jumped. Another two knocks and she knew it was Langly. 

He walked in silently, picked up the bags, and carried them down to the waiting van as she put on the backpack and then placed a sleeping William into the carrier sling, shushing him softly when he began to fuss. 

Nodding resolutely as she gently patted William’s back, she walked out the door, locking it behind her. 

Frohike took the backpack from her as he helped her inside, sitting down on the floorboard and leaning against the side of the van. It was unsafe and illegal, but she did not care so long as she would not be seen as they drove. 

“We'll take the back streets, stay off the highway,” Byers said from the driver's seat. “Should be there in about twenty minutes.” 

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes as she held William close when he whimpered in his sleep. 

Twenty minutes felt both like forever and no time at all when they reached the station and Byers parked the van. Langly got out, grabbing the bags, as Frohike stepped out with the backpack and reached a hand in to help Scully. 

He took a paper bag from the backseat and placed it into the backpack along with two bottles of water before he closed it up and helped her put it on. 

“I made you some breakfast burritos,” Frohike said, his voice gruff once again. “They should be good for the journey. Stay in your compartment. Don’t come out until you reach him.” 

“Right,” Scully said with a nod as she adjusted both the backpack and William’s carrier. 

She stared at all of them as Byers walked up to join them, the keys held nervously in his hands. 

“Thank you for everything,” she said softly, tears pricking at her eyes. “Thank you for… being there for both of us. All of us.” She rubbed William’s back and they nodded. “I…” 

“You need to get going, Agent Scully,” Byers said, taking her ticket from his inside jacket pocket and handing it to her. “Be careful.” 

“We will.” 

She grasped his hand and he nodded, smiling softly. Frohike sighed as she looked at him and stepped forward to embrace him. 

“Goodbye,” she whispered and he grunted, patting her back. 

Langly walked beside her to the train platform, carrying her bags. They waited silently until it arrived and he followed her to her compartment. Setting the bags down, he hugged her quickly, hurrying from the train as it began to leave the station. 

Standing by the window, she watched him run to join the others. They all held up a hand and she did the same, staying until she could no longer see them, and then stepping inside of her compartment and locking the door. 

Making up the small bed, she stacked the duffel bags in front of the door. Taking off her shoes, she laid down with William in her arms, exhaustion overtaking her as she fell asleep instantly, the train bouncing along as it carried them west. 

__________

Nearly a full day was spent in the compartment, opening the door only to hand her ticket to the ticket agent, her gun held out of his view, just in case. Thanks to the food and water Frohike had provided, and the bathroom in her small room, she did not have any need to leave. 

She created a safe space for both of them, William wide eyed as he looked out the windows and the world beyond them. 

When the next stop was announced, the town in which she and Mulder had previously arranged to meet, Scully felt her stomach drop. The bags were repacked, William once again in his carrier sling and her backpack on, when she opened the doors to leave. 

It was dark outside, the winter sun already down when she bumped down the hallway with her cumbersome bags. A kind older man offered to help her, but she graciously refused.  

The brakes squealed as the train began to slow and she stood waiting at the door, her bags in her hands and heart racing. William shifted and she looked down at him with a smile. He smiled back and she let out a deep breath when the train stopped completely. 

The doors opened and she swallowed hard as she made her way off the train. The ticket attendant appeared and helped her, placing her bags on the ground beside her with a smile. 

Scully picked up her bags and walked away from the people milling about the platform as quickly as she could, considering the awkward weight of the bags she carried. Her eyes were peeled for the enclosed bus stop, praying Mulder had done as he had planned and taken out the overhead light to keep them in darkness.  

Catching sight of the small building, her pace and heart rate quickened, looking over her shoulder and thankfully finding no one following her. 

As she approached, a figure stepped from the building, but remained standing in the darkened doorway. She paused before she recognized the person’s frame and she whimpered softly, moving faster. 

The bags were abandoned as she reached him, her arms outstretched as he stepped towards her. 

“Scully,” he breathed, pulling her into his arms, William protesting in loud surprise as he did. She laughed, tears in her eyes, as she hugged him back. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too. So much,” she said, over the sound of William’s cries. Mulder held her tighter, whispering her name into her hair. 

Pulling back, he held her face in his hands and kissed her softly three times. He shook his head, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks as he smiled. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she said, holding onto his wrists, her tears spilling over. 

“And you,” he said, letting go of her face and opening the sling carrier to look down at William. “How are you, my son? God, he’s gotten so big. Can… can I hold him?” 

“Of course you can.” 

He took him from the carrier and held him, smiling as he stopped crying and stared, looking from Mulder to Scully. He smiled, shoving a fist into his mouth and Mulder chuckled as he shook his head again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, kissing him and then her again. He bent to pick up one of the bags as Scully picked up the other one. He smiled at her and she smiled back as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, William blowing raspberries as they began to walk from the darkness to Mulder’s car. 

_____________

Two years later, in a small town in Tennessee, a taxi drove up a long dirt road, stopping in front of a farmhouse with a large wraparound porch. Rocking chairs, big and small, adorned it. Potted plants were set out by the pillars along the porch, many bright colored flowers sprouting from them. Two different sized swings were hanging at the end of the porch, the grass around the house green and luscious. 

The taxi driver stepped out to take the two large suitcases from the trunk as the screen door squeaked open and then slammed closed. Scully hurried across the porch to greet her mother who had just gotten out of the taxi and was looking at her with a teary smile.

“Mom,” Scully said, tears clogging her throat. 

“Oh, Dana,” Maggie said, holding her tightly, both of them crying happily as the screen door squeaked open again. 

“Mama?” William asked and Maggie laughed as she stepped back to see the little boy she had missed every day for the past two years. 

She walked up the steps to take him from Mulder, who handed him over with a smile, as he helped Scully with the suitcases, the taxi driving away. 

Hours later, the sun setting, Scully stood watching William and her mother sitting together on one of the swings, William pointing and jabbering away to her as the swing moved slowly and she laughed. 

“Hey,” Mulder said softly, his arm going around Scully’s shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing contentedly. “Are you happy?” 

“Yes. Very happy.” 

“Good.” 

“And you?” she asked, looking up at him. 

He looked down at her and smiled, letting that be his answer and she smiled back, her hold on him tightening as he put his other arm around her. 

“Good,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest as he hummed and kissed the top of her head. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

Somewhere nearby a dog barked, prompting William to repeat the sound, causing all of them to laugh. Maggie made the swing go a little higher as William barked again and she pulled him onto her lap. 

“Oh, William,” she said, kissing his head and sighing. “I’ve missed you and I love you so much.” 

“I’m beyond happy,” Scully whispered, her eyes closing as a warm breeze whistled through the grass and trees, Mulder humming again as his hand moved gently up and down her back. 

[cybernetic-panda]

Okay so I finally got the spell slots to write my first little fanfic! Any feedback is appreciated andddd whatever else!

It's been a year since the events of the movie. Orm traveled for a while but still wanted to grow his familial connection with Arthur and Atlanna. Arthur has a friend relatively nearby to the lighthouse. Allowing space between the two brothers, but Orm is close enough for Arthur to tap his guidance. 

Noelle works as a blacksmith. She sells stuff online and travels for conventions, is obsessed with Atlantis weaponry and armor. Met Arthur when he was younger training with Dafoe Char and begged to see his cool ass weapon. Is a metahuman essentially like a wyvern. Her scales are bronze she can withstand high temperatures and can hold her breath for 60 minutes. (Like a water dragon essentially) Functions okay in society mostly wears under armor to cover the scales that show on her limbs and makeup on her face. 

The high point of Noelle's year was finally being able to get her hands on Atlanis scrap metal. After nagging Arthur for years she'd finally got the best gift from him. Well, not so much from him but telling his fantastic mother, Atlanna, what she wanted to make. Low and behold not less than 24 hours later Arthur presented himself at her workshop with a beautiful haul. 

"Can't believe you complained to my mom Noe." He huffed throwing down the sack of metal. "I was gonna get to it eventually."

Humming Noelle nodded and started to sort through her new treasure trove. "Christmas is right around the corner Arthur. I can't make Orm's gift with the shit I have here, it had to be from Atlantian metal." She pauses and turns to give him a stern look. "If you had gotten the scraps I asked for I dunno, fifteen years ago when I started asking I would've been done AND been able to make you kickass weapons for those last couple big bad fights you've had. So swim off my friend I will see you in three weeks, as you still took your sweet time I have to work straight to the day of to make Orm's gift."

Arthur breaks out in a grin and begins to walk away."I expect a cool gift too this year! And a fucking kickass weapon for Junior!"

"Of course, I'm making Juniors' first trident, I'm the royal blacksmith!" Noelle quipped back without looking at him.

"Yeah still gotta go through "official" channels for that, still hell ya!"

-Fast Forward Three Weeks-

"Sorry for being late! Doing some finishing touches." Out of breath, Noelle breached the front door of the lighthouse. 

Tom was the first welcoming face Noelle catches. "Don't fret you're not late, just finishing up Junior opening presents first.' Wrapping his arm around Atlanna he places a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Heard we'll be seeing something impressive from you this evening." 

Laughing awkwardly "Well I certainly hope so, if it's okay I wanna give Orm my gift really quick. Don't think I can wait another second! I wrapped it and whatnot but I'm excited to see him open it." Tom motioned to the back porch where Orm and Arthur were having what looked like a heated debate. "Thank you!" Noelle placed her bag of gifts to the side and clutching the weapon case proceeded to the backdoor.

"You cannot just allow anyone to come into Atlantis if they beat you in an arm wrestling match. That one makes no sense, two is not a basis for immigration or visitation. I agreed with you in revealing Atlantis to the surface world, but I cannot agree with such a pufferfish-brained idea!" Orm finishes his tangent with a huff and runs his hand through his hair. Looking up he spots Noelle coming out and unfurrows his brow. "Noelle tell Arthur that flexing his muscles at everything is not the answer." 

Chuckling Noelle breaks into a large grin, "You know he's joking Orm. I mean if it's the same 'arm wrestle to barter, debate, etc.' idea he had when he was seventeen then I assume he's joking." Turning to Arthur Noelle cocks her head questioningly. "Ruffling his feathers again for fun?"

Getting up from where he was leaning on the railing, putting his hands up in a defensive manner, "Ya got me! I already took your notes for an ideal visitation selection and immigration policy for surface dwellers and Atlannians. Still working on conditions for both to visit safely, but eh ya know nerd stuff. Anyway, I'm gonna head inside and let you kids enjoy a moment.' Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Orm and Noelle, Arthur sauntered back in the house. 

"Alllll right well whatever on that. Orm! I have a Christmas gift for you!." Noelle thrusts the case on Orm with an oomph! and began to watch him with giddy anticipation. 

Orm takes a second to recover and evaluate the case in front of him, as he does Noelle not being able to contain her giddiness starts to describe the case.

"SO I was thinking of a combination of land and sea, you'll notice them with the whole gift. The case is made of a couple of layers of driftwood and I got your mom to help with the Atlantian Script."  Orm runs his hands over the Orm Marius etched into the box and smiles. He places the case on the railing has his carefully opens the case. As he opens the case completely his breath catches in his throat and he freezes. Sensing some confusion Noelle steps closer and continues her description. 

"So all royals have a trident annndd yours broke so ta-da! The handle is made from a piece of your mother's original trident Arthur was able to find. And then.." Noelles' voice fades away as Orm focuses on each inch of the trident. After a moment he finally starts to grasp the the weapon with both hands to take it out of its case. Miracously its feels like an extension of himself, the weight of the weapon feels right. When moving his hands a bit more something catches his right hand he lifts it up closer and sees inscribed on the handle in Altantian 'OceanMaster'. Noelle's voice fades back in," I had put OceanMaster because ya know I think it fits you in the way you've Mastered the ocean and are an advisor to the King of the Oceans. I can buff it out if it is too much." Noelle nervously sways back and forth on her heels looking down and waiting for some form of answer.

"I accept." Orm finally replies after what feels like hours. Noelle looks up in confusion as Orm gingerly leans the trident on the railing swings around picks up Noelle in a bridal carry. "I accept your proposal and will be honored to be your husband. I'm sorry I have nothing prepared in return." He kisses her tenderly on her lips as she still processes what he's saying. "However," He leans in close to whisper, "I can certainly make it up to you when we go home this evening."