#you say write about your life and damn if that isn’t mine

[the-broken-pen]

I suffered a mental break after writing like eighteen college essays and wrote the newest one about a bagel and I just call it college essay bagel and it haunts me but like objectively it’s funny because it’s about a bagel you know? And my English teacher is gonna throw a book at my head when she finally reads it

[peapod20001]

I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3

[undercovercameron]

sous chef

summary: rafe let’s himself play the husband role with your little life in your trailer. oh, also, he loves you. (alternate summary: the first time rafe tells you he loves you)

notes: i had a lot of fun writing this, i just love a domesticated rafe cameron that isn’t insane about coke and isn’t a murderous psychopath…. there’s also alcohol and marijuana use in this! def sexual content and in a particular prayer position…. anyways this was cute and i often romanticize my life in this way too! enjoy pls

tags: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

word count: 2042

When Rafe steps down the rickety stairs and onto the soggy grass, the humidity smacks him in the face like a wall of pond-scented wet sponge.

“Fuck,” he curses, raising a hand to his brow, and squints in the late morning sunshine. A mosquito buzzes past his nose and he swats it away with a golden ringed hand. His head pounds like a drum. Damn your cocktail skills— you always find a way to get him fucked up despite his tolerance. It’s the Pogue in your genes.

That thought makes his head pound harder, but he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. The only thing he likes in his family’s high-brow country club culture is the shit that comes with money. And with your limited experience in that, you’re a break from the bullshit.

He fumbles in his pocket, looking for his keys, but his fingers just land on empty gum wrappers and a lighter. He ascends the trailer steps in twos, wrenching the door open, and starts for the kitchen. There’s movement in your bedroom but he just grabs his keys and finds his way back outside into the muggy weather. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s rushing out to do— his plans aren’t until the afternoon.

He’s halfway to his Range Rover parked haphazardly next to your early 2000s Corolla when the front door’s hinges squeak and you call out to him.

“Needing this?” You hold up his wallet between two fingers, and he snorts. You step down onto the grass with bare feet. You’ve got a black lacy thing on top and a pair of half-buttoned jean shorts on the bottom.

“Take anything you aren’t supposed to?” He says, squelching over to your half-dressed form.

“Maybe. You know that’s my mom’s thing, not mine.” You roll your beautiful eyes.

“That right?” He says quietly, sliding his wallet into his pocket and taking your neck into the side of his hand. “Never know, with you.” His mouth meets yours for the first time that day, and you sigh. His hand smoothes down your waist and he tucks his fingers into your waistband, feeling the material of your panties. His favorite pair.

You stumble in the soft earth, feeling yourself being tugged closer, and your arms wind themselves around his shoulders. He’s hot and pulsing with feeling under your touch.

You taste like mint toothpaste and something like watermelon from last night. Every time he kisses you you taste like Sunday mornings and sunshine. But he finds the will to pull away with a hand on your collarbone.

“I’ll see you tonight.” His tilted face glints in the sunlight and his eyes are half lidded and relaxed. At peace.

“What’s tonight?” Your brows pull together, lips screwed up, and he lets go of you.

“I’m goin’ fishing with some buddies later today. I’ll bring you something I catch.” His blue eyes follow yours as you scan his face.

“Mmm.” You smooth a hand down his chest. “My own personal Hank Parker.”

He turns, sliding you off of him with both of your wrists in one hand, and backs towards his car with a chuckle on his lips.

“You’re weird.”

“You’re sexy.” Your gaze moves from the top of his head to his shoes. “Bye.”

“Mhm. Bye.”

His back turns to you and he grins foolishly to himself, depressing the unlock key on his fob. You’re going to ruin him someday.

Later that night, he approaches your door with a cooler, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a limp in his step. He can’t escape a fishing trip without some sort of injury. He’s lucky if it’s minor. The lights are on in your trailer, and you had even lit the citronella candle on the tiny picnic table off to the side of the front door.

He knocks on the flimsy door on merit and upon no response, shoulders into your living room with a huff.

“Y/N?” He calls, nothing but the crickets chirping and some soul music coming from your radio making any noise in the small house. He sets his things down onto the counter and your lack of response starts to make him a little worried.

That nagging worry immediately disappears when he saunters into the small bathroom and sees you sitting on the toilet, feet propped up on the side of the tub, smoking a joint and painting your toenails.

“What’re you doing?” He asks for some reason, face splitting into a grin, and you pluck the half-smoked J from your lips and hand it to him. Smoke curls out of your mouth and into your nose, and he just chuckles as he takes a hit.

“Multitasking,” you say, eyes meeting him before going back to the task at hand.

“‘S what I love about you,” he murmurs, and leans down for a kiss. You grant him one without acknowledging the beat your heart skips. He barrels on, trying to make you forget his lingual mishap. “I’m going to clean the fish while you finish here and then we can cook, yeah?” He sucks the life out of the joint and hands it back. You push it between your lips and nod, swiping a final time at the pinky toenail of your left foot. Five down, five to go.

“Sounds good, baby,” you mutter through your focus. He turns and you smack his ass as he leaves, relishing in the jump and curse word he grants you in response. You smile around the filter in your lips.

Finishing your nails takes so long that Rafe already has the fish in the pan and half of his drink drained by the time you appear from the bathroom with freshly-purple toenails and the lingering cocktail of marijuana and acetone in your hair.

“What’re our sides, Chef Rafe?” You ask, having a sip of his bourbon. You cringe and make a disgusted noise at his favorite alcohol.

“I heard you—this brand is good, snob. And there are potatoes in the oven.” His broad back is to you as he pokes at the fish in the pan, the smell of hot oil and cooking meat lingering in the air. He even opened the window above the sink and lit that candle you like.

“Sounds perfect,” you murmur, sidling up behind him, and curl your arms around his waist. The worn surf shop shirt he has on is smooth to the touch, and his skin is even smoother when you push the hem up to get your hands on him. “You look so sexy cooking for me.”

“Yeah?” He sets down the spatula and reaches for the cajun spices next to the stove. “How sexy?”

“Really sexy.” Your fingertips toy with the waistband of his jeans, and a colony of goosebumps prickle the skin of his forearms. He nearly shivers when you press your palm flat to the muscle above his pelvis and slide past his belt. He seasons the fish a little more with a shaky hand.

His eyes fix on a single crooked tile in the faux backsplash when you creep your hand down into his boxers, and your mouth presses to his back when he hangs his head. Your fingers smooth down the length of his dick, skilled and familiar, and his mouth drops open.

His heart starts to beat quicker when you pull his zipper down and unbutton his fly in one fell swoop, hot face pressed to the thin material of his shirt. He can feel your grin through it. Your thumb swipes across the tip and he sucks in a breath and grabs at your wrist. He starts to let you go when you kiss at his shoulder blade and curl your hand around the shaft and start to move.

“You have a good day today?” You murmur, bringing your hand back to your mouth to spit into your palm before getting back to it. He looks to the side, silently cursing, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Mhm.” His word breaks into a groan and you relish in the sound. He’s so good at pleasing you and getting you loud, it’s nice to just hear him for once. His fingers grip the edge of the stove so hard his knuckles pale.

“You smell so good.” You squeeze a hand at his waist, another one working hard in his boxers, and he chokes on one of the rawest moans he’s ever expressed. Your grin widens. “So good, baby,” you kiss through.

“F-fucking—…” He exhales heavily and his hips jerk at the increasing sensitivity. “You’re too good at this.”

“Not possible,” you say, and peek over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His ears are a bright pink, same as his lips, and his face is screwed up in something akin to bliss. You love it.

Your fingers slow for a moment, letting him catch a breath. He pants a little bit but licks his lips, eyes blinking open and looking surprisingly dark. You move his shirt aside with your other than and creep your fingers up his abdomen, stopping briefly at his abs before lowering back to hold onto the anchor of his stomach. You press a kiss to his bicep before your hand speeds up again, fingers a little tighter.

“So sexy,” you compliment smoothly, your smirk evident. “Needy.”

“Stop,” he breathes, eyes closed once again and biting at his lip. “You know that’s my line.”

Your thumb slips over his tip once, twice, then three times. He nearly chokes on a groan.

“It’s true.” A bite to his upper back. “So fucking sensitive to me you’d think we’re virgins, huh?”

His head rolls on his neck, internally cursing, and he grabs again at your wrist as you move quicker.

“Y/N,” he starts to chant, squeezing his eyes.

Swiftly dropping onto your knees diagonal to him, you grab at his right arm and pull him around to you. His side crashes against the stove with the force but he just pants and grabs at your hair to pull you closer to his dick.

You push him into your mouth with one hand on his hip and the other curled around the back of his thigh. He lets out the most wrecked sound when you push him all the way to the back of your throat. You suck, hard, and watch as his head tips back and his mouth open in an O.

“Fuck,” he shudders when your tongue swirls around him. “Shit.”

You go high on your knees, grabbing at the base of his dick, and push it further. His hips stutter and his fingernails dig into your scalp, but you dismiss it when he goes nearly silent.

“Please,” you mutter, mouth full, and that’s what sends him barreling over the edge.

“Fuck!” He forces out between his teeth, and it immediately turns into a gasp. “Y/N.”

You just ‘mhm’ and open your mouth so he can see. He release his grip on your hair and pets down the side of your head, panting with his eyes locked on yours. You leave him with one final suck that makes him shiver and then pull back. You get to your feet, happy with yourself, and seal him with a kiss. He grunts into your mouth but reciprocates.

“I think the fish might be burning, honey,” you comment, peeking over at the stove, and he just closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“I fucking love you.” He grins, not quite catching his breath.

You don’t necessarily freeze, but you stay silent. You take a moment to just look at him, watching the way his eyes fall open and the corners of his mouth turn down as his grin falters.

“I love you, too,” is all you say, eyes twinkling, and then you open the fridge and turn away from him. “We don’t have any cranberry juice.”

You’re simply looking for the ingredients to your preferred drink, but a bashful blush finds its way onto your cheeks.

His heart and lungs start working again and he turns back to the stove, taking hold of the spatula.

“Looks like you’re going to have to use orange juice,” he says through his smile.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

The Fan | Jensen x Reader | Oneshot

Summary: Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with a man with a filthy mouth and an oral fixation he’s hell bent on ruining her life with. 

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Tags: audio porn, porn AU, dirty talking, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, oral fixation, oral sex galore, use of sex toy, masturbation, public masturbation, Jensen has a filthy filthy mouth in this one, it might make you feral be warned…

WC: ± 4K

A/Ns: I shouldn’t be trusted to write porn when I’m feeling feral because this is absolute filth and I just wanna thank Laura for commissioning it and sending me further down my crazed rabbit hole. <3

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

“Oh fuck, baby girl, you take Daddy’s cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt, don’t you?” he coos as your whole body starts to break out into a light sweat. “Best damn pussy I’ve ever fucking had, sweetheart.” 

You whine, your back arching off the bed, your head fuzzy with your impending orgasm as your eyes flutter closed and you try to stave it off just a little while longer. 

“Look at you, so fucking perfect, you were made for me, made for my cock inside you. Daddy’s perfect little slut,” he growls, gasping for breath at the end of his sentence, moaning deep from his chest. “Tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it.” 

“I’m your perfect little whore, Daddy,” you whine out, your fingers working your clit to the very edge of sweet release.

“That’s fucking right you are, baby, feel so fucking good on my cock, fuck, making Daddy wanna fucking cum. Do you want that? Hm? Do you want Daddy’s cum deep in that pussy? Maybe I should put your panties back on you and send you out. Let you walk around the store with my cum dripping down your thighs. Oh you like the fucking sound of that, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, and you gasp for air, the feeling of the cock pistoning in and out of you almost too much to bear anymore. 

“You’re not going to cum again are you?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you cumming when my mouth isn’t down there to taste it. Do you need my tongue in that cunt again, baby girl? Or are you still craving Daddy’s cock? Look at you, so fucking desperate you don’t even know what you want anymore, you just want to be used, don’t you? You just want Daddy to use that fucking cunt over and over until I’m through with it. I’ve fucking got you, baby girl, you’re mine and everyone fucking knows it. I’ve marked you up good, you wanna see your skin, fucking covered in my claim.” 

You can’t take anymore, and you cum hard, screaming out in pure ecstasy as your climax washes over every inch of you, and you’re left gasping for air, squirming on the edge of over-stimulation as the cock continues to piston in and out of you at the steady pace you’d set it at. 

Your eyes flutter open and you’re brought back to the room, your earbud falling out, letting the natural ambience of your bedroom fill your eyes, the very faint sound of the actor’s voice still bleeding through the forgotten earpiece. Your body is still trembling, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you as you finally reach for the dial beside you and slow the machine down until it’s come to a stop, and you carefully remove the toy from inside you and whimper at the loss of contact, even if you are thoroughly done. You reach for your phone to pause the audio, realising there’s still ten minutes left. You never can make it to the end of one of his audios. That man is far too good at what he does, and it’s a crying shame he doesn’t do videos, though you realise that audio gets you off far better than visual does nowadays. You don’t even think you’d care what the guy looks like, if he can make you cum that hard and that many times with just his words, he could look however he wants and you’d still fuck him. 

Somehow, the guy seems to be all your biggest fantasies wrapped up in one dirty mouthed human, and you’re actually starting to worry about your real dating life, given you’re never going to find a guy that will ever come close to your favourite audio actor, you’re sure of it. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying, even if your nights do end like tonight; alone and getting yourself off with your best investments yet; your fuck machine and Patreon subscription to ‘Dean Winchester’.  You hadn’t even needed a machine before Dean, and you actually had more real life sex with real life men, but over time you ended up settling for mediocre one night stands less and less, rathering going home to Dean, instead. You know your obsession is borderline unhealthy at this stage, but if the guy would stop putting out the best audios you’ve ever heard, then maybe you’d stand a chance. 

*

Work is so mind-numbingly boring, you find yourself watching the clock on the wall and praying that the last twenty minutes would hurry up, so you can get out of the office for the weekend. With the weekend upcoming, you don’t have time to start a new project, but you finished your last one two hours ago, and have been desperately trying to seem busy for your boss’s sake since then. You sigh and twist yourself left to right in your office chair, and practically leap at your phone the second it goes off next to you. Finally, something to do. 

You’re quick to glance around you when you realise that the notification is from Patreon, and you open it cautiously to see Dean has posted a new audio. It’s rare for him to post something mid afternoon on a Friday, and you read the title and the audio information, eager to find out what your Friday night is going to entail. 

Daddy can’t get enough of eating that sweet pussy (with toys)

Contains: Excessive oral sex, daddy kink, use of toys, praise, degradation, slight humiliation, mocking for multiple orgasms, soft dom, aftercare 

You look around the office, feeling your pussy getting uncomfortably wet already, and rub your thighs together, reaching into your purse and grabbing your headphones, before quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You would normally at least try to wait the extra hour, and for  the comfort of your own home, but this one sounds too good to wait. You just want a little glimpse; at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lock yourself into a bathroom stall and eagerly put an earbud in, making sure your phone is definitely connected to it before you turn the volume up a little. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Dean hums through the headphone, and instantly the wetness doubles.

You shift uncomfortably in your heels, and take a seat on the closed toilet lid, hitching your dress up enough to get to your soaked panties. You can just have a little play, it’s not like you’re busy, and no one will know what you’re doing in here. 

“Have you missed me? Aw, I can tell,” he coos, “have you been waiting for me all day? I’ve had a long week, and I was thinking I could use some stress relief,” he explains. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left you naked in bed this morning, been thinking about that sweet little pussy, about how good you taste. My cock has been hard all fucking day just thinking about tasting you when I got home.” 

You try your best not to moan out loud, your fingers now pulling the ruined material of your panties to one side as you take a shuddered breath in and start to tease your swollen clit. 

“You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” he asks, and then a low hum rumbles through him. “Fuck, let me take those panties off, wanna see that dripping little pussy properly. It’s gonna taste so fucking good, you always taste so fucking good, you’ve got Daddy addicted, d’y’know that?” 

You rush to remove your panties over your heels, wanting to keep up with the fantasy now playing in your mind’s eye, and you quickly stuff them into your blazer pocket. 

“Don’t worry about making dinner, I’ve got enough to feast on right here,” he chuckles lowly, and then the sound of his lips smacking over something fills the quiet, and he moans under his breath. “Tastes fucking good, baby girl,” he praises. “That pussy was made to be eaten, and look at it, practically dripping for me, such a naughty little slut, hm? You want a finger inside you?” 

Instantly you slide one finger inside your warm, wet cunt, and your eyes roll as you throw your head back. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he laughs, “then why don’t you use the dildo I got you? It’s right here, I’ve got it, let me see if I can make it fit.” The sound of vibrations accompany Dean’s hums of approval, and you wish with everything in you that you were home right now, where you could reach for your own vibrator and slide it inside you like Dean’s doing in your fantasy right now. “Fuck, baby girl, you take it so well, does that feel good? It’ll feel better when my tongue is back on that clit.” 

“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath, pushing a second finger inside you in a desperate attempt to mimic the toy you’re imagining. 

“Don’t worry about me, baby, I’ve had a cockring wrapped around my cock all day, I’m gonna be fucking you for hours yet. Now you just lie back and let me take care of that sweet little cunt.”

The bathroom door opens outside of the stall, and you jump to remove your fingers, even though whoever has entered won’t see what you’re doing, you still don’t want to get caught out somehow.  The obscene noises of Dean ‘eating you out’ are still playing into your ear, and you rush to pause the audio in an attempt to calm yourself down a little, hearing the clicking of heels on tile as someone enters the stall next to you.

“Y/N?” you hear Amber call out. 

“Yeah?” you call back, your voice shaky and not trustworthy, right now.

“You coming to the bar with us?” Amber asks. 

You stand up and flush the toilet to complete your facade, heading out of the stall and quickly beginning to wash your own juices off of your fingers before Amber somehow notices. 

“Not tonight,” you insist, your mind very much on the remaining twenty three minutes of Dean’s new audio, and the date with your machine you’ve found yourself with suddenly. 

“C’mon, you’ve not been out in forever, plus, Sascha insists that this new bar has the hottest guys,” Amber explains as she also exits her stall and stands at the sink beside you, washing her own hands. 

“I gave up on men a long time ago,” you remind Amber with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, I’m all for silicone friends, but you’ve gotta get a real dick at least once in a while, and girl for you, it’s been a while.” You laugh at her bluntness and shake your head. “You’re coming, even if I have to pay for your drinks all night,” Amber insists. 

You sigh and roll your eyes, before nodding reluctantly, guessing one drink won’t hurt if it gets Amber off your back. 

“Great,” Amber beams, reaching forward to undo the top button of your dress so your cleavage is far more on show than it was before. “There, let’s go.”

*

One drink has somehow turned into three, because every time you say you might leave, Amber is quick to buy you another cocktail, and you feel bad wasting her money by not drinking it first. You’re hyper aware of the fact your panties are still stuffed into your blazer pocket, and your pussy is completely bare and exposed under your dress, and the only thing you can fully focus on is the remainder of Dean’s audio you want to listen to. You really do have a problem, apparently. 

By the fourth drink, you offer to pay, feeling bad that Amber is footing your bill all night, and you guess you owe her one drink before you finally go home to your machine. You stand at the bar and shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you wait to be served, your mind running wild with all the ways Dean is going to fuck you tonight, and when the barman finally stands in front of you, you realise you’ve forgotten what Amber wanted. You guess your way through a list of a few different cocktails, figuring one of the girls will drink them even if Amber doesn’t, and as the barman moves away to make your long order, you hear a scoff beside you. 

You turn your head to look at the man, and are kind of taken for a moment because he’s pretty attractive. Sascha was right, the men at this place really are better looking than the rest of the bars around town. Maybe they have some weird lighting, or something. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs easily, and his voice shoots straight to your core. Jesus, has it really been that long since a hot guy has talked directly to you? “It’s just I’ve been stood here for over five minutes, and that bar man is only serving the hot girls,” he explains. 

Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and then you scoff and shake your head. 

“Clearly not, he just served me,” you counter. 

“I stand by what I said,” the stranger insists, after his green eyes have raked up and down your body a couple of times. Is this guy actually flirting with you? You find yourself staring for a moment. There’s something very familiar about him, but you’re fairly sure you’d remember ever meeting a guy this attractive. 

“Do I know you?” you ask him, frowning. 

His green eyes light up and he laughs softly, shaking his head. 

“Urm… don’t think so,” he finally offers, shaking his head. But his hesitance only confuses you more. 

“Are you sure? I swear I know you somehow,” you insist. 

The guy begins to blush, and he clears his throat before looking around himself. 

“Well, what if I said my name is… Dean,” he slowly offers. 

Your eyes widen immediately, and you’re not sure if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kiss the man. His voice that’s what you know, that’s what’s so familiar, and that’s why you’re having this kind of reaction to just talking to some guy. So you’re not that desperate, after all… or maybe you are, depending how you look at it. You would’ve never placed him as Dean Winchester, no matter how intimately you know his voice, because you never would’ve actually expected him to be more attractive than the picture you’d painted in your head. And you never would’ve expected to bump into him at a bar in town of all places. 

But then the realisation hits you fully. If this guy is Dean Winchester then he knows that you listen to his stuff, and he knows that you listen enough to recoginise him. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your cheeks burning. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry,” you fumble to apologise, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why are you sorry? I love meeting fans.” 

The word fan only makes your skin crawl more, he’s going to think you’re some psycho, some desperate woman that needs audio porn to get her kicks. 

“Oh god,” you groan, now feeling your skin crawling in shame. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, really,” he reassures you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. “Honestly, I’m flattered a girl like you listens to me.” 

“Oh sure,” you scoff, not believing him for one second. You want to tell him you don’t really listen to his stuff that much, but then you realise that might be insulting, and you don’t want to tell him you’re as big a fan as you are, or you’ll just look even more pathetic to him. “Listen, I’ll leave you alone,” you conclude. 

“Oh,” he replies simply, before licking his lips and nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.” 

You can’t help but feel like you’ve insulted him somehow, and you swallow hard, rushing to explain. “I don’t wanna seem like some creepy fan,” you excuse. 

“Sweetheart, I’m the one that hit on you,” he laughs. 

Your eyes only widen further, “you were hitting on me?” 

“Yeah, well… I thought I was… I did call you hot, didn’t I?” 

“I guess,” you agree, now feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. The guy that has given you more orgasms than all the other men in your sexual history put together has hit on you. “I’m sorry, I just always assumed that a guy like you would be married, or at least dating someone.” 

“Nah, my work is just as much for my benefit as it is yours, trust me,” he laughs softly. “So, can I at least buy you a drink, even if it’s just to thank you for liking my work?” 

*

“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” you confess, already drunkenly laughing behind your hand as you look over at him. 

Dean – or Jensen, you’ve now been told his real name is – seems to wait patiently for your confession, and in the two or so hours you’ve been sitting together drinking and getting to know each other, you somehow feel like you’ve known him for years. Maybe that’s because of the porn, but either way, you’re actually about to say this out loud. 

“The audio that you released today?” you prompt, and a smirk grows over Jensen’s plump lips.

“Yeah…” he prompts. 

“Well, I didn’t get to finish it, but let’s just say I started it in work… in a bathroom stall… and I’m still a mess. I was dying to get home to finish it.” Your confession doesn’t leave you as embarrassed as you thought it would, not when Jensen only smirks harder, and then bites his bottom lip as his green eyes look around the bar. 

“Well… why don’t I just… show you what the rest was like?” he asks, blinking at you. 

“What?” you ask, feeling yourself beginning to sober up at just the very thought of what Jensen’s implying. 

“What if we… y’know, re-enacted it?” 

*

“So how far did you get?” Jensen asks, breathing against your neck.

You crane it, pushing your head back further into your pillow as you moan softly, dragging your nails through the soft hair on the nape of his neck. 

“Not very, you’d just pulled out a vibrator,” you explain breathlessly, your heart thudding in your chest. If this man is this good at kissing, you’re not sure you’ll survive the rest of it. And you already know what a filthy mouth he’s got from the dirty talking. And from talking to him tonight, you were more than excited to find out that his audios are a true reflection of his own kinks.

“Do you have one?” Jensen prompts, and you blindly reach under your bed for the box that holds your toys, throwing the lid off carelessly and wrapping your hand around your favourite vibrating silicone friend. 

You produce it in front of you, stopping Jensen in his tracks as he smirks, taking it from you and throwing it to the bed next to you both. 

“I don’t have a cock ring though,” you add with your own smirk, and Jensen chuckles lowly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” he tells you smugly, taking your hand and pushing it under his boxers. Your hand meets soft, warm velvety skin, and as it gets a little lower, you feel the rubber ring at the very base of his swollen cock. 

“Do you always go to bars wearing one of those?” you sass, wrapping your fingers around his erection and growing pleasantly surprised at the thickness. 

“I had it on for the audio this morning, y’know, for authenticity, and figured I’d leave it on because I was so horny. Meeting you was just the bonus,” he explains. 

“What else do you do for authenticity?” you tease, gasping when Jensen’s teeth sink into the delicate skin on your neck. “Do you…” you struggle to regain your composure, grinding your core up against his bare thigh, your slick coating his skin. “Do you actually eat pussy?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Unfortunately not. It’s been a while since I got to eat a pussy… don’t mind if I fill up on you, do you, baby girl?” 

“No, Daddy,” you whimper, not even ashamed at how quickly you submit to him. 

“Oh, someone’s been listening to my work… such a good little whore, f’me, aren’t you? Bet you taste fucking delicious.” 

Suddenly, Jensen’s face is gone, and you feel his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs backwards, spreading you open. He doesn’t waste any time dining on your pussy, making sounds far more obscene then the audios could ever capture, and just when you thought this man couldn’t get you off any harder, you’ve finally felt his tongue for real, the stubble on his face rub along your delicate skin, you’ve finally felt exactly what this man can do to you. 

Your fingers comb through the hair on the top of his head, and Jensen only ever pauses to bite and suck on the flesh at the insides of your thighs, before returning to licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Your back arches into his touch, and you nearly lose your mind when you see him blindly reach for the dildo you’d given him, turning it on to a low rumble as he presses the tip to your entrance. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he growls, his voice slightly deeper and far more reminiscent of his “Dean” persona. 

You moan loudly, bucking your hips desperately as he begins to fuck you with your vibrator, and you find yourself torn between wanting his mouth back on your pussy, and wanting his cock replacing your toy. Amber’s right, sometimes you just need the real thing. Especially when the real thing is as tempting as Jensen’s. 

“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling his mouth back on your cunt in an instant, and he laps at your arousal and moans loudly around your clit when he sucks it between his lips. “Holy fuck,” you shout, staring up at the ceiling, not sure you’re even going to survive this. 

Jensen’s rutting against your mattress, but seems to be in no rush to finish eating you out any time soon, and your thighs tremble either side of his head as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface. 

“That’s it baby,” Jensen pauses for a brief second to say. “Cum f’me,” he growls. “Cum on Daddy’s tongue, c’mon, perfect little cunt, tastes so sweet, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking up grinning at you like the devil. 

“Yes,” you whine, encouraging his mouth back on your clit as he now fucks your vibrator in and out of you so much better than the machine has ever managed to. 

Jensen doesn’t stop to talk again, he just hums and moans against your skin until you’re cumming hard and fast on the toy, and he’s quickly removing it to lap at your juices that are practically flooding out of you. 

As always when you listen to his work, your first orgasm does little to stave off the arousal he’s elicited from you, but luckily, it seems Jensen’s not done with you, because he licks his lips clean and hums, rising back to his knees between your legs. He begins stroking his cock in his hand, his eyes several shades darker as he looks down at you. 

“So,” he smirks, guiding the tip of his cock towards your soppy entrance, only teasing it with his tip before tapping the heavy length on your sensitive clit, making you squirm. “Which of my audios should we re-enact next?” he asks. 

“Any one that requires that inside me,” you reply, watching Jensen chuckle under his breath. 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

[strawberrywinter4]

WIP - A Gentleman’s Shrine

Sneak peak #2 !

I know, I haven’t been active for a while, but this is what I’ve been working on! Some things may not make sense, obviously, but this is one of the scenes that will be in the halfway mark. So in honor of being halfway writing this, here you are! <3

——

“Captain Watson,” Sherlock murmurs in greeting.

“Mr. Holmes,” he says slowly. The name rolls of his tongue. Sherlock shivers. “I didn’t think this was your scenery.”

“It’s…not,” Sherlock answers. Suddenly, words are very hard. He practically blurts his next words out, “Are you going to tell my mother?”

To Sherlock’s surprise, Captain Watson’s eyebrows raise as if he hadn’t even thought of doing so. “No.” He huffs a laugh. “I’m sure she doesn’t wish for you to be out considering she hardly lets you out of the manor, but…you’re your own man. It isn’t any of my business.”

Sherlock exhales in relief. “That’s…good. Thank you.”

He hums. His eyes reach into Sherlock’s soul, seeing straight through him. Sherlock tries not to sweat.

“Is Ms. Bolton all right?” Captain Watson ends up asking.

Oh. Yes. Of course. That’s his main concern. “Uh–yes, I’m sorry. She–she said she had something to attend to.” It isn’t entirely a lie. She has her own fears to attend to about her ex lover having a chance to come back and make her life a living hell.

“I see,” he says, but his voice isn’t laced with disappointment like Sherlock thought it would be. More so, it’s of curiosity. Sherlock has found that the captain is a severely curious man. That can be both dangerous and enticing. “Do you know her?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I simply…erm…” Sherlock doesn’t know what to say. How does he explain his sudden need to speak with her if he doesn’t know her? Captain Watson doesn’t take his eyes off him. “She–I’m a fan of hers.”

Sherlock knows the captain doesn’t believe him. He can see it in the way he stares at Sherlock with strict eyes. Sherlock swallows.

“Right,” he finally says. “Well, I’m glad you could speak with her.”

Sherlock’s shoulders sag in the relief that, for now, Captain Watson won’t push on the matter further. “Yes.”

They stare at each other for a moment. A thought comes into Sherlock’s head that he can’t replace.

“Why are you here?” No. No, that sounds accusatory. “I mean–are you…is there a reason?”

Get a hold of yourself, damn you.

“I heard of this place and thought I would see what the fuss was about,” the captain says, voice smooth.

Admiration creeps through Sherlock. He wishes he could simply go wherever he pleases for the pleasure of it. He wishes he didn’t have to sneak out just to step out of the gates of his own home. Prison, more like.

Sherlock nods. “Good. That’s good.” They’re quiet for a moment. Maybe it’s best Sherlock stops the conversation here. “Um–I should be going–”

“So, Irene Adler.” The tenacity of Captain Watson’s voice makes Sherlock pause. “Congratulations. I had no idea you two were…involved.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows shoot up. That, he can confirm with confidence is untrue. “No,” he says, and this time his voice stays steady. “Absolutely not. I mean–no. She’s a friend of mine.”

Friend. A friend.

Sherlock’s never had a true friend before. At least, not one close to his age. Mrs. Hudson doesn’t count.

But considering someone a friend…it warms Sherlock’s chest before he can stop it.

Sherlock’s heart jumps when he sees something akin to relief wash over Captain Watson’s face. Why relief? Suddenly, his shoulders lose the tenseness it had before and his expression softens.

It’s such a rapid change, Sherlock is dumbfounded.

“I see,” says the captain. “I didn’t mean to misunderstand, erm–you two seemed so…” He cuts himself off, shaking his hand with a light laugh. “Never mind.”

They stare at each other for longer than necessary. Sherlock finds himself tranfixed. The heat of the moment becomes more than palpable, it becomes unavoidable.

Captain Watson clears his throat, looking away swiftly. Sherlock tries not to feel disappointed.

The former soldier waves over the bartender and pays for his drink. Sherlock senses their interaction coming to an end.

“I won’t keep you busy,” Sherlock says. “Good night, Captain Watson.”

However, just as Sherlock walks past him, a gentle grip on his arm stops him. Sherlock’s breath catches in his throat. They lock eyes, and usually, the captain would take away his hand and murmur apologies.

Now, he doesn’t so much as look away.

“Let me take you back to the estate,” Captain Watson says.

Sherlock feels his defenses return. “I’m perfectly capable of going back on my own.”

“Oh! Yes. Yes, of course you are. I meant no such thing.” He stands, and the heat of his body radiates toward Sherlock. “Just so you won’t be noticed or…I only want to bring you back safely.”

Sherlock huffs. “Captain–”

“Mr. Holmes.” Sherlock hopes he isn’t imagining the soothing stroke of his thumb. “This isn’t because I don’t think you can handle yourself. This is because I want to make sure you arrive home safely.”

Sherlock shifts where he stands. His mind is hardly functioning due to the touch. “All right,” he manages, his voice hoarse.

——

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @thegildedbee @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack @gwendelaneyisjohnlocked @cortina @kettykika78 @johnlockbbc @dapetty @bs2sjh

(If you wish to be tagged, let me know. If you don’t wish to be tagged, let me know as well.)

So yes, I’ve been working very hard with this fic. My goal is to finish writing the whole fic, and then post the chapters! I’ve never worked that way before, but I’ve found that it’s a lot easier for me so I’m not rushing through the process to write and then get the next chapter out lol.

Thank you all <33

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 2)

series masterlist

summary: sid grapples with his emotions and talks with annie before visiting the malkin’s newest addition

warnings: none! :)

author’s note: Hey y’all! I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series already. I’m super excited to write it out and give it some body. Hope you like this chapter!

xoxo

nina

The first time Sidney Crosby met Annie Wright she spilled coffee all over him.

“Shit I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching and my phone rang and-,” Annie had paused and looked up at Sidney with wide eyes. “And now the tabloids are going to rake me through the mud for trying to take out Pittsburgh’s Golden Boy.”

Sid chuckled and looked down at his shirt with a grin, “S’okay. It was an accident. Unless you purposely spill coffee on strangers.”

The wide grin that Annie gave Sidney is one he still pictures to this day. Her hair was in a high ponytail, her face freckled from the summer sun. He compares that image with the version of Annie standing in front of him now. She looks sad, worn down even. This is not his Annie.

They’re both standing speechless across from each other and for a moment it feels like no time has passed. But then Sid blinks and his world comes crashing back down around him.

“Is Vivie mine?” Sid’s not sure where his words come from. It feels like he’s not even the one saying them, like he’s watching the scene unfold before him from outside of his body. “I need you to tell me, I need to hear it from your lips. Is she mine?”

Annie’s eyes search his face for a moment before she nods and answers in a quiet voice, “Yes she’s your daughter Sidney.”

His hands run over his face, through his hair, covers his eyes. Sid sucks in a deep breath and immediately feels his sandwich from earlier coming back up. He quickly turns around and pukes into the bush there, chest heaving as he braces his hands on his knees.

He has a daughter.

A daughter who’s first seven years of life he’s missed.

A daughter with the only woman he’s ever loved.

When he’s sure that he’s not going to throw up again Sid stands up, takes a deep breath, and turns to Annie. Her teeth are digging into her lip, a nervous habit she’s always had, and even though he has a million conflicted emotions about her Sid finds all he wants to do right now is smooth out the skin of Annie’s lips like he used to.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” Annie breathes and runs a hand through her blonde locks. “Which isn’t fair to you I know but I wasn’t exactly expecting to run into you when I woke up today. Damn it, I’m sorry I know you’re expecting answers but I can’t… I can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”

Sid sighs and nods, “I get it. I’m, uh, pretty speechless too.” He runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, clocking Annie’s eyes following his hand. “I have Niki for a few days but maybe… Maybe we could meet up and talk?”

Annie only hesitates for a moment before nodding, her shoulders loosening just a little bit, “That… Yeah that would be good.”

They stand there awkwardly for a few moments as if they’d never been madly in love and on the verge of spending their lives together. Finally Sidney is the one to break the silence as his fingers twitch at his sides.

“Vivie is all Nikita talks about,” Sid smirks at the small laugh that Annie lets out. “Seriously, he spent 20 minutes this morning telling me about why blue and purple are her favorite colors.”

Annie rolls her eyes playfully before smirking, “Yeah that sounds right. Annie and him have been inseparable since they met in kindergarten. Hold on, I have this one picture…”

As Annie pulls her phone out Sidney drinks in her casual appearance, a pair of frayed jeans with a white tee tucked into it. She’s just as gorgeous as she’s always been and it makes Sid’s chest constrict tightly despite the anger and sadness still lingering there.

“Here! They wanted matching costumes so they decided to be Woody and Jessie,” Annie holds her phone and shows Sid a photo of Nikita and Vivie, arms wrapped around each other. It’s clearly from a few years ago, both of them sporting chubby cheeks and bright eyes. Sid takes in the way Vivie’s eyes look so much like his, the way her chin is a perfect replica of his.

There’s emotion overflowing in his chest and Sid finds he has to look away so he doesn’t start crying in front of a fucking elementary school right after throwing up there. He clears his throat and looks away from Annie’s phone, “She’s beautiful, An. Is, uh, is Vivie short for something?”

“Her full name is Vivienne,” Annie whispers as she watches her phone intently. “Um… Vivienne Taylor.”

Sidney felt his heart clench at Annie’s words, knowing she’d thought of him when naming their daughter. He let out a slow breath, willing back his tears once more before nodding, “That’s… Thank you.”

Annie and Sid exchange numbers before parting ways and as soon as he’s behind the wheel of his SUV Sidney lets out a ragged breath followed by a low sob.

+

“Mama! Papa!”

Sid’s been on auto pilot since his run in with Annie this morning, but Nikita’s yell breaks him out of his haze momentarily. He follows the boy into the hospital room, watching as Geno lifts his son into his arms and kisses his hair.

That should be you with your daughter.

Shaking the thought off Sid sets the flowers he’d brought on the bedside table before coming over to hug Anya, kissing her forehead.

“You look great for just having pushed a baby out,” Sid teases lightly, but his grin doesn’t reach his eyes.

“She big like her papa, nearly tore me in half,” Anya grins up at Sid before looking to the bundle in her arms. “You wanna hold?”

He agrees instinctively and carefully takes the baby from Anna. Her little face is scrunched up and Sid can already see wisps of dark hair peeking out from her cap. Gently running a finger down her chubby cheek Sid thinks about his own daughter and how he never got this moment with her. Hell he’d never even hugged the girl and she was already seven years old.

“Sid why you crying, it’s just baby,” Geno teases as he sidles up next to him. He looks him over before lowering his voice. “You okay?”

Sidney nods and stares at the baby for another moment before speaking, “I met Vivie today. And her mom.”

Geno grunts, his eyes trained on his daughter, “Mom never around when I am. Anya think she’s avoiding me, don’t know why though.”

“Vivie’s mom is Annie,” Sid pauses and then looks up at Geno, whose face has gone white. “My Annie.”

The two men stand in silence, Nikita chattering to his mom in the background. Sid and Geno keep their eyes locked on the baby in Sid’s arms as they come to terms with the bomb that had been dropped on them. Annie had left before Anya had moved to Pittsburgh, it was reasonable she wouldn’t know who she was. But Geno would have and Annie knew that.

“Sid is…,” Geno looks scared to utter the words as he meets Sid’s eyes. “Vivie?”

Sid simply nods, Geno exhaling and running a hand over his face. The baby fusses a bit and Sidney immediately starts to rock back and forth, bouncing on his heels and soothing her.

“You’re natural Sid,” Anya muses with a grin, missing the wince Geno lets out. “When you have your own babies?”

“Anya,” Geno says lowly and though he can’t understand it, Sid knows that whatever he says in Russian is enough for Anna to get that she shouldn’t ask more questions.

+

Later that night after he’s tucked Nikita into bed Sid checks his phone, a glass of scotch in one hand as he sinks into the couch. He has a few texts but there’s only one he clicks into.

Unknown: hey it’s annie. let me know when a good time for you to meet up is, i’m flexible.

And then, as if knowing his heart didn’t need to take anymore hits today, Annie sends a photo of Vivie fast asleep in her bed with a stuffed penguin tucked under her chin.

And Sidney finally lets his tears fall.

[shesmyboot]

Turkey Time, Baby

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Matt Casey x reader

Request: Can you do a Matt Casey x reader? Matt Casey is married to Kelly Severide’s sister and she is the PIC at the same firehouse as her husband and brother. It is thanksgiving Casey and his wife are celebrating it at the firehouse with the rest of the guys that works on the same shift. Casey and his wife are having some intimate in his quarters but gets interrupted because Severide is looking for his sister. After the shift was over Casey and y/n was home at there house. Casey was telling his wife about the call that they all had last night and about how Casey saved a new born baby when the victim was in labor. Casey tells y/n how he wants them to have a baby, but y/n isn’t sure if she feels ready to have a baby now even if she wants to have a baby with her husband. Based on season 1 episode 7

Summary: Married to your brother Kelly’s best friend, you get to spend your thanksgiving on shift

Words: 1350

Warnings: Kissing, intimate content (no smut), birth, married couple disputes

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: Happy to be back writing requests! Hope it’s what you were looking for! @caseyandsloan

Join my taglist here

Tags: @caseyandsloan @mrspeacem1nusone

—— “Ready big bro? Boden’s about to carve the turkey,” You asked, leaning on Kelly’s doorframe.

“I’ll be right there, just finishing this run sheet.”

“Better hurry up, you know how Boden likes everyone to watch his magic.”

A small chuckle left your mouth as you walked towards Matt’s quarters.

“Turkey time, Baby,” you smiled, leaning over to give him a secretive peck on the lips.

“I’m ready for another kinda time,” he smirked.

“Not right now baby, Boden’s waiting, something about turkey magic.” You pulled him away from his desk and practicality dragged your husband to the common room.

“Casey, Severide, finally,” Boden groaned, “where’s the other Severide?”

“I told Kelly it was chow time just a m-“

You were cut off by your brother slipping in behind you and taking a seat at the table.

“Let’s eat before these damn bells go off,” Boden announced.

As the firehouse passed around the bowls and platters of the thanksgiving feast truck prepared, Matt couldn’t help, but keep smirking in your direction.

“Severide,” Joe called out.

Both you and Kelly popped your heads up from your plates. 

“Which one?” Kelly joked.

“PIC Severide. Pass the potatoes.”

You passed the potatoes as Matt kept smirking in your direction.

As the firehouse finished their meals, you called out, “squad’s on dish duty, right?”

“Thanksgiving doesn’t count, that’s a team sport,” Capp argued.

“I say it still counts,” Joe smiled, getting up from his seat.

“Works for me,” Herrmann announced, pushing away from the table.

Truck and Engine, along with you and Shay quickly left the common room as to not be recruited to dry what seemed like millions of dishes.

“Got a minute,” you asked Matt, a devilish grin across your face.

“Hell yeah I’ve got a minute.”

Pulling you into his quarters, he closed the blinds and locked the door behind you as you pulled him into a very passionate make out session. Your hands in each others hair giving you flashbacks to you at 16 with the boy down the road.

With you pulling his shirt off and him pulling off yours, you were fully in the not safe for work category. You were unbuttoning your pants as there was a knock on the door. 

You quickly threw your shirt back on and through the blinds, you could tell the shadow on the other side of the door belonged to your brother. 

“Casey, you seen my sister?” He knocked.

Matt panicked and threw on his shirt and opened the door before you could tell him he put it out inside out.

Kelly looked at Matt’s shirt and the flushed look on your face.

“Well aren’t you two celebrating the life of that bird?” He shook his head.

“What’s up Kelly?” You asked, attempting to fix your hair.

“Boden wanted to see you, but it’s not urgent if you want to get back to what you were doing.”

Fixing yourself up, you walked out of Matt’s quarters, only to hear Kelly laugh behind you.

“You’re doing it at the firehouse now?” He chuckled.

“We didn’t do anything, you interrupted us,” Matt fired back.

You were just out of earshot now, so you couldn’t hear them, but when you looked over your shoulder, you could tell they hadn’t changed topics.

Just as you were reaching the bullpen, dispatch announced your next call, “Ambulance 61, Truck 81, Squad 3, car accident, 555 West Halstead.”

You turned around and started your jog towards the app floor. Shay was already in the drivers seat when you got there, pulling 61 into the street before you could even get your seat belt on.

About two minutes before the accident site, you hit traffic. Heavy, After-dinner, thanksgiving traffic. Lights, horns and sirens weren’t enough to make traffic move even an inch.

“61 how far out are you?” Matt called over the radio.

“Two minutes, but we’ve hit stand-still traffic,” you sighed.

“Call for another ambo, we’re in bad shape over here.”

“61 to Main, we’re stuck in traffic and unable to take in the West Halstead call. Requesting another ambo for truck and squad assist,” you radioed into dispatch.

“Ambulance 90 is 20 minutes out,” dispatch replied.

“Casey, did you get that?” You asked.

“Yeah, do what you can to get here quickly. We’ve got a victim in labor,” he replied.

You motioned to Leslie to try the horns and siren again. 

“No luck,” she announced, frustrated and banging on the steering wheel.

“How’s she doing?” You asked Matt.

“Contractions are about two-ish minutes apart.”

“Matt she’s going to need to start pushing. Get all the blankets and the med kit from the truck. You’re going to have to deliver there.”

Leslie looked over to you, shocked at what you just said.

“Are you sure you want him to do that?” She whispered.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” you whispered back, “plus it’s Matt. He’s a natural.”

“We’re ready here,” Casey told you.

“Ok on her next contraction, I need you to tell her to push. Keep her focused on this baby.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Severide.”

“You have to.”

Several minutes went by without communication from Matt. Finally, over the radio, you could hear screaming from the laboring mother.

“How’s she doing, Matt?” 

“Baby’s about half way. Next contraction is about to start.”

The traffic in front of you started to ease enough so Shay could maneuver around it.

“Casey, we’re on our way. A minute out,” Shay announced.

“I shouldn’t stop right?” He asked.

“Keep going, Casey. We’ll take over when we get there. Once the baby is born, dry it off and hand it to the mother.”

Shay was focused, her knuckles white from the amount of force she was putting on them, trying to make sure you got to this victim.

Pulling up to the accident seen, you saw Matt by the passenger door of a mangled car. 

“Baby is here,” Matt called out over the radio.

Grabbing the jump bag, monitor, oxygen and stretcher, you and Shay rushed to Matt’s side. 

“Casey, we’re gonna load and go,” you informed him.

“We didn’t have anything to cut the cord,” he was breathing heavily.

As you truck helped you with loading the victim, you reassured Matt.

“You did good. Congrats, Casey,” you smiled, shutting the ambulance doors behind you.

——

Arriving back to the house late, you flopped into your bunk and fell right to sleep. You were blessed with no overnight calls to end the shift, so you could actually get a little sleep, a rarity on shift.

When you woke up, you quickly packed your duffel bag and met Matt out front.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, “maybe some uninterrupted time?”

Matt shot you a look.

“Is that a yes?” You asked, getting in his truck.

“Definitely,” he grinned, starting the truck.

As you arrived back at your apartment, Matt had a look on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, plopping down on the couch.

“That call.”

“The car accident?”

“Yeah. I delivered a baby on a road today,” he rushed.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“I think we should have a baby,” he paced.

“What?”

“Yeah, you and me. We could do it, I know we can.”

“Matt, I-“

“Baby, we’d be so good-“

“Matt!” You yelled, cutting him off mid sentence.

“What?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to have a baby,” you admitted.

“What?”

“I’m finally in a good spot at 51. I finally made PIC. I don’t want to take time off right now. I know you want to have a baby.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, firmly.

“I don’t know if I can have a baby with you right now.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and started walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You got up from the couch.

“You can’t drop a bomb like that on me and expect me to just sit here. I’m going to Kelly’s.”

The apartment door shut with a bang. All you could think was “was this a mistake?”

[storm-angel989]

Hello 🐝🚬 is back!

Could I request male! reader,Valentino's son that is dating Angel Dust and Valentino's reaction to him being told that ( it is fine if you dont want to do it)

Of course I want to do it! It’s just a matter of inspiration- I will always tell the requestor (either privately via PM or if anonymous a published response) if I don’t feel comfortable writing something. Thankfully, I happened upon a bit of thought earlier that this request seemed to fit, so enjoy!

TW: Valentino is fucking evil. Rape. Porn. All of the things that make Valentino NOT a good demon. 

That is all <3 Feedback is always appreciated! 

I took a deep breath and walked into my father’s studio. At the age of eighteen, I had become more than familiar with the inner workings of my fathers business for far longer than I cared to consider. More than once, I had followed in my father’s footsteps, taking center stage both directing and starring. 

“Ah. Reader. Come. You’re just about to see our favorite actor…take center stage.” 

The way my father said it made me wince. I watched my now boyfriend strut across the stage and take his place, his legs spread wide open as he was tied down to the bed. 

“Dad, stop, I need to talk to you before this scene.”

My father gave me an annoyed look before returning his attention to the stage. “What the fuck is going on that is so important that you need to interrupt my art?”

“My boyfriend isn’t your art,” I shot back as my temper flared up. 

My father chuckled and took a long drag from his cigarette. “Boyfriend, you say? Angel?” He leaned forward as his eyes flashed red. “Angel is my property, little boy. His life depends on the salvia from my mouth. Not yours. And I couldn’t give less of a damn what you do with him in his off time, but while he’s on my stage, his dick is mine.” He leaned forward and I saw the familiar glint of darkness flit in his eyes. “Unless you want to join him? Make a bit more money for your Papito?” 

I gritted my teeth. “Mom would be pissed if she ever….”

The slap sent me flying across the room. I struggled to stand as my fathers footsteps clinked across the room, his eyes blazing. “Do not ever, ever talk about your mother in front of me, do you understand? She’s dead. And there is nothing you, or I can ever do about it. Now piss off, or get on the stage before I get really angry.” He turned on a heel and retook his place in his chair. 

I brought myself to my feet and wiped the blood off my cheek as I slowly made my way to the stage. I shoved aside the demon that straddled him and took his place. 

“Hey,” Angel said softly as I leaned into him. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“Better me than him,” I replied as loudly as I dared. The lights flickered and dimmed. I took the cue to push myself into Angel. He gasped, the loud overdramatic screams I had come to learn firsthand were so incredibly faked. Every inch of me wanted to kill the man who put me in this position, but I knew that unless that contract was null and void, Angel would disappear along with him. 

I held Angel against me in the dressing room after the shoot and stroked his back as he curled into me. Bruises, not by my hand, blossomed across his body. Angel’s pet pig, Fat Nuggets, nuzzled into us, circled twice and laid down. As I held Angel as tight as I dared, only one thought crossed my mind. 

I would get him away from my father if it was the last thing I did.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings With A Chubby Partner

Yes I’m projecting. Shush. It’s hard to lose weight when you have heart problems lemme have this

Warnings: 16+ There isn’t any sex, but there will be sexual themes. Also talks about fat phobia, bullying and such. Along with a small bit of food struggles and topics of eating problems

Writing Comission’s Open

William ‘Bill’

There is just something so nice about it. He himself is a, rather, thin and lanky man. The job quite literally sucks the life out of you. So you are always such a massive comfort to him. How you are able to help him stay so warm, and how he can just wrap his arms around you. Let his bones rest, after a long day, and embrace you. To be able to share a big meal with you, and have it adored. Since being a curse breaker is so draining, it’s a given that comfort food is left and right. So there’s something so kind in sharing it with someone, instead of eating alone. There is also something so thrilling about it all. Whenever the full moon comes around, and he has handfuls to enjoy. To have so much flesh and skin to bite and claw at. Make sure everyone’s knows who you belong to. He likes it, he won’t lie. Especially the morning cuddles. Letting his head rest on your soft chest, and holding you close. Fingers tracing the scars he’s left behind. It’s soothing, to the wolf in ginger clothing

Charlie

Oh he loves himself someone with meat on their bones. He himself has some too. Muscle is tense when flexed. When it’s not? SQUISH. So he damn well knows that just because someone’s got some extra squish, it doesn’t mean they aren’t able to still kick your ass. Oh he loves himself a partner that’s got meat on the bone. Mans is always behind you, with his hands on your stomach. Playful squishes. Never to insult. Just always very all mine. Not to mention a good excuse to show off his cooking skills. You gotta be creative when always camping. Finally someone to enjoy the meat he always endlessly has. That’s something he loves. Sharing food. Especially meat. Oh you bet your ass there’s alot of meat in your future. Along with aggressive claiming, and not being just a man who watches dragons breed. He’s gotta claim his own mate, and enjoy all that they can give. What can he say? He’s about as much dragon as he was Weasley. He likes em big, warm, and dangerous. The fact you thought it was smart to date him? Oh yeah. You are dangerous alright.

Percy

He’s a bit of a mama’s boy, so having a partner on the softer side certainly isn’t the worse. Not to mention there is a strange pride to it all. That his job is high paying enough to never have to worry about food. Every Weasley has money paranoia. Even the twins, despite their beautiful jobs. There is extreme comfort in knowing neither of you need to worry. That you can be on the softer side. It helps him sleep at night. To hold you close, see your sleeping face, and hug you. Feel how warm and soft you are. To know he is able to provide enough that you didn’t have to become dangerously thin. It’s a sign of pride, really. To know he can support his family. Make sure all he cares about is happy, and safe.

Fred

Twins, of the Wizard kind, share it all. Such as the enjoyment of someone soft. Fred sure does like to show you off, in a sense. To brag about how pretty you are, and how much you joy you bring. He’s similar to Charlie, in a sense it’s hard for him to not keep his hands on you. He just loves the security of it. The feeling of love. It’s soothing to him. To just hug you, and you hug back, promising to never let go. How you give him this comforting weight, as you cuddle. It helps ground him. Brings him back to earth again. His big, sweet, security blanket. He also adores cooking for you. He picked it up from Molly. He was the one who cooks, and George is the one who bakes. Nothing screams home more than cooking for someone. Expect lots of it from him. No hungry mouths in his house!

George

Very similar to his twin. You provide him a security, and comfort. But, they don’t always share everything. Especially not after the war. He can understand the insecurity. Missing a ear isn’t exactly hard to miss, especially since the spell that took it is famous for leaving deep gashes. It can be nauseous. Having people stare at you, for only doing so much as existing. He can tell the difference in the looks. He knows. And he knows he can hold onto you close, and find support. Along with someone who would enjoy his baking skills. Someone to share his love again. It’s hard to live with out a twin, but having you in the kitchen with him lightens the load by a lot. Like he never left. Your sweet teddy bear. His favorite co-baker

Ron

What can he say? He likes someone who likes to eat. When you grow up with food being scarce, you develop some food paranoia. Can you blame him? He is rather self conscious about it. Always teased for eating so much. You understand him though, and he understands you. You learn to appreciate food, when it can be hard to get any. Never fear about your eating habits around him. He’s more than happy to share a big meal with you. There’s a comfort in talking over tea with someone. To snack and snuggle after a long day. He gets it. Life is to short to worry about people’s views. Never know when you can’t even get food. Find pleasure in the little things

Ginny

As a Quidditch star, she definitely has to eat alot to fill in her calories. Like a lot a lot. So having someone who can keep up? She finds it fun. She also damn well knows that a little extra padding on the hips is not a death sentence, or even remotely means you are unfit. She sees so many different types of athletes, and grew up with family who all played Quidditch. She knows where muscle and fat goes. Like how Bill needs to keep up his calories for his job, why Charlie had more muscle in his legs while the twins have it in their arms. She knows how the body works a little better than most. So she damn well knows her athletic butt adores your squishy one. To come home, shower, and just slam her face into your stomach. Groaning about her aching muscles, as she snuggles into you. Able to enjoy how soft you are, and the emotional support it gives her. You are just perfect in her big brown eyes.

[dyke-will-graham]

My list of songs so Hannigram coded it’s insane and the lyrics that make them so:

Salt in the Wound- Boygenius

‘You put salt in the wound, and a kiss on my cheek. You butter me up and you sit down to eat’

‘Neck full of mockingbirds all calling your name…I’m gnashing my teeth like a child of Cain’

I’m Your Man- Mitski

‘You’re an Angel, I’m a dog. Or you’re a dog and I’m you’re man. You believe me like a God, I destroy you like I am.’

‘I’m sorry I’m the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me I should die. I deserve it don’t I?’

Famous Last Words (an Ode to Eaters) - Ethel Cain

‘Look at me baby, dead in my eyes. It’s the end of our holiday, but it isn’t goodbye. Carry me with you all of the time.’

‘Eat of me baby, skin to the bone. Body on body until I’m all gone. But I’m with you inside.’

It Will Come Back- Hozier

All I’m gonna say is first verse is Hannibal POV, second is Will POV talking to eachother I could write a damn essay on this song and Hannigram

Shrike- Hozier

‘The words hung above, but never would form. Like a cry at the final breathe that is drawn. Remember me love, when I am reborn as the Shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.’

‘Had no idea on the ground i was founded, oh that goodness is gone with you now. Then I met you, my virtues uncounted. My goodness is goin with you now.’

‘Back to the hedgerow where the bodies are mounted’

Abbey- Mitski

‘I am hungry, I have been hungry, I was born hungry, what do I need?’

Butchered Tongue- Hozier

This one I think is Will when he married Molly and settling into his new life but still looking for Hannibal in everything.

UPDATE:

Talk- Hozier

Once again getting into the Greek mythology themes and Hannigram parallels. Orpheus and Eurydice as Will and Hannibal haunts me.

‘I’d be the immediate in Eurydice, imagine being loved by me.”

Paralleled with the scenes of Hannibal and Wills seperate “I forgive you”.

Me and My Husband - Mitski

‘At least in this lifetime we’re sticking together.’

This is a little cracky, but this song reminds me of the way Hannibal and Will are chasing potentials and scenarios where they can stay together. Teacups and all that and yes the world is on fire but Hannibal and Will are together so it’s okay.

Breezeblocks- alt-j

Enough said.

NFWMB - Hozier

‘Give your heart and soul to charity. Because the rest of you, the best of you Honey belongs to me.’

The possessiveness of Hannibal and Will over eachother is insane, we know this. And I think people forget that Will is just as bad as Hannibal about it. (Just see any interaction between Bedelia and Will for evidence)

Salvatore- Lana Del Rey

“The summers wild and I’ve been waiting for you all this time. I adore you can’t you see you were meant for me?”

“Catch me if you can…dying at the hand of a foreign man, happily.”

Once More to See You- Mitski

“But with everybody watching us, our every move. We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won’t let them have it.”

“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then I wouldn’t have to scream your name.”

Televangelism- Ethel Cain

No lyrics in this one, just piano and the sound of me crying softly. This song is EVERYTHING the Primavera scene was in Dolce. Please listen. The slow build, the melodic flutter of a heartbeat the rise and ascension when they see each other and smile at one another, the acceptance of fate, the knowledge of love. “You and I have begun to blur.”

anything - Adrienne Lenker

“I don’t wanna be the owner of your fantasy I just wanna be a part of your family.”

Savior Complex- Phoebe Bridgers

“Drift off on the floor, I drag you to the shore. Sweating through the sheets you’re gonna drown in your sleep for sure. Wake up and start a fire in our one room apartment but I’m too tired to have a pissing contest, all the bad dreams that you hide show me yours I’ll show you mine.”

“Baby you’re a Vampire, you want blood and I promised I’m a good liar with a savior complex.”

Pre-Mizumono to Post-Fall Hannigram can be found everywhere in this song.

OKAY OKAY THATS IT IF YOU STAYED THIS LONG THANKS IF YOU WANT MORE HANNIGRAM LISTEN TO MY PLAYLIST ITS CHALK FULL OF ANGST

[roseauthor]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞

N/A: Y/N is a hassle to write so I replaced it with Persona, one of my favourite authors also uses it. And kind of created it. If the author ever reads it, message me if i can keep using it.

English isn't my first language. Enjoy!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Now playing: 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐔𝐍

Prologue...

Beginning of an ending,

⟸༺✽♔✽༻⟹

The world Isn’t what it seems like.

Those words had changed Persona life, the dying words of her mother, at first she didn’t believe in such things. Too immersed in her sadness. But now, standing in front of the man from the paintings. All those hours of reading, looking, and practically breathing in her mother’s work. The pieces clicked together like a puzzle, the man standing right in front of her eyes. Was not related to her imagination, nor was it part of earth. He didn’t breathe like her, he didn’t need to breathe like her. His clothes were only displayed in fiction for her, yet for him it was vice-verse. He found that the clothes the girl wore were ridiculous, to say nicely that is. But she, a fashion designer, absolutely adored his clothes. They looked royal in a way. Persona is, was and is still tongue-tied, the man she had been searching for while actively following her own dream. She still desired to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

“Damn you, little Mortal. Are you going to make a fucking deal with me or not?!”

Deep aggressive spoken words are the only thing Persona remembers from that night. Sometimes she still thinks it was a dream, some fairytale she may have read before bed. But then she’d be reminded it was real. Her wrist was marked with a seal. Not demonic looking but it did give off the demonic vibe.

That was 12 years ago, she doesn’t remember if she made a deal with the man- if it even was a man. Not even what he looked like, just his voice. Her mothers notebooks, paintings and photographs remained in a box she had kept. Persona stopped trying to look for the man after not being able to find him in her mother’s notes. The paintings, pictures, and the little information that used to be in her notes completely vanished. So she gave up, and it’s almost time for her big entreé in the fashion industry. Now she’s almost 24, every year the seal on her wrist darkened. Nobody suspected anything though. It's the 21st century, so she didn’t need to worry. Everything was going great.

And then the clock struck midnight, Persona’s birthday, her 24th birthday. The dreams, or rather nightmares started flooding in. Red eyes, watching her every damn move. Sometimes she couldn't part dreams from reality.

“I don’t care if you were able to fulfil your dream or not. A deal is a deal. Your soul is mine,”

That night she had the same dream, sitting with her bare feet softly swirling in a pond playing with the little fish. Her hair was being brushed by someone, and then suddenly she was running. But now there was no fish, no pond, no hair brushing. Just her and the unknown red-eyed extraordinary being. She recognised the aggressiveness in his voice. From the shadows a hand showed in the dimly lit forest.

“Why can’t I touch your soul..?” the being muttered. ‘After all she’s just a..’

Persona couldn’t move, she almost refused to breathe the same air.

“Ah- that would make sense. So you’re his. You’re not just bonded to us by deal. Also by soul and heart, that’s why I can't touch yours. That sucks like a bitch. I wonder how he’s gonna deal with this.. Hilarious predicament.”

What was this thing talking about? What the actual fuck.. That is the only thing on your mind, along with even more questions. Whose ‘his’ and ‘soul taking’? You figured you did make a deal with someone. And being bonded also had something to do with the deal. You needed to find out more but before you could even think within seconds you were falling. As if a hole was ripped through the ground. And then, the ringing was the only thing you heard before falling unconscious. And that’s where this story begins, right after another has ended.

↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

[whackacole3]

do you have any tips for new writers? you write fast and your fics are pretty damn good so i thought it would be good to ask you!

omg yeah, i can try! here’s a few things that come to mind. this stuff is mainly for writing fanfictions, but i guess it can apply to books as well?

reminder this is just what i suggest, if you think differently that’s okay! every writer is different.

and if anyone has any more suggestions, feel free to either comment and/or reblog with your suggestions.

(also idk what speed has to do with anything but that just comes with practice and motivation 😭)

1.) stop caring and stop worrying. i know this might sound counterintuitive but it's really not when you look deep into it. once you sit down and decide to just have fun is when your best work comes out, at least for me. writing is supposed to be fun, you’re supposed to enjoy it. if you find yourself stressed and dreading writing you’re doing it wrong. remember to take breaks if you need it to refresh yourself. writing is extremely hard, but i believe in you. just try to have fun!

2.) find more ways to come up with ideas. i think most people would agree that prompts are hard and many people don’t know how to come up with them. personally, i use quotes. if you know anything about me, quote fics are my fucking life, man! you can use lyrics from songs, a funny moment that happened in your life, a saying your parent always told you while growing up, literally anything! go wild.

3.) find your unique style. when it comes to writing, everyone has a style just like when it comes to any other art form. i write in a more casual, organic style because that’s what comes naturally to me. don’t try to mimic other’s styles because you think yours isn’t “good enough” or something of the sort. you can take inspiration, but don’t forget to be true to yourself and your own style.

4.) write how you want. piggy backing off the last one, don’t let anyone tell you something is “improper” or whatever. if you think adding a million commas best suits your story, then so be it! i use dashes, ellipses, and semi-colons like my life depends on it. it’s an important part of how i write and that’s that’s okay.

5.) make sure to commit to it. while it is important to not push yourself too hard and to take breaks if you need it, don’t forget to commit to it. try and write everyday. whether it be only a paragraph or the entire story in one go, every little bit helps. it gets you into the groove, basically! i’ve heard some people say that 250 words should be your daily minimum, but personally mine is 100. so it’s whatever works for you.

6.) don’t expect it to be easy. writing is hard, that’s just the case. you are making up your own stories (with already set in characters or not) and coming up with things is hard! it’s going to get confusing at points, it’s going to get frustrating, it’s going to make you want quit sometimes. this will happen especially if you write longer form content.

7.) don’t give up and always believe in yourself. feeding off of the last one, no matter how hard it is, don’t ever give up. take breaks for however long you need, but never give up. you can do this. and if no one else believes in you, believe in yourself. you are what matters.

8.) don’t forget to edit and revise. you don’t exactly need to go over your work once you finish, but it’s a very good practice. if look through it at least once or twice: you’ll find mistakes that you maybe didn’t notice; you’ll notice scenes/sections that you can elongate to better serve the purpose/narrative; you could find things don’t matter and can be removed; and so much more. you don’t need to go crazy over it, but it’s definitely something you should do.

9.) don’t forget/be scared to ask for help. everyone needs help from time to time, even the best authors/writers need guidance from others. ask your friends to help with a scene/part or two if you need it, if they’re willing ask them to edit/beta for you, and so forth. you’ll never get anywhere without the help of others, you can’t do this on your own and that’s okay. you might want to be independent and get there by yourself, but that will be ten times harder than if you just ask for a little bit of help.

10.) write for you and nobody else. i would say this is probably the most important one. don’t worry about what others think, story telling is for you! yes, you might share it with others (directly or by posting it online) but at the end of the day, it’s for your enjoyment and no one else’s. if you want to write an OC and canon character, do it! doesn’t matter if no one cares about your OC other than you. YOU ARE WHAT IS IMPORTANT!!!

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - SDV Leah Prompt Response

Summary: Leah tells you she wants a baby...a month after you've been married.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I love writing Leah and the farmer so much. I may or may not be a tad obsessed with this game sometimes. So naturally, I had to add Leah into this whole thing. 😊

Can be read as a continuation of A Prize Unlike Any Other and Where Were You On Our Wedding Day or as a standalone.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Pairing: Leah x Female!Reader; Leah x Female!Farmer

Warnings: a smidgen of angst; fluff; mention of implied sex

Word Count: 1618

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version

“I want a baby.”

You started choking on the omelet your wife had surprised you with this morning along with a fresh cup of coffee. After coughing and sputtering, you looked up at Leah, your eyes wide. “What?” You croaked out.

“I want a baby,” she repeated, crossing her arms.

You sucked down more coffee, still trying to clear your very irritated airway as you thought of what to say. You had only just gotten married a month ago! Shouldn’t there be some sort of grace period for you to be newlyweds and settle into married life before you even started thinking about adding to your newly renovated household?

“Well?” She challenged. 

You cleared your throat and set your cup down as you decided to answer her very carefully. “Honey, isn’t it…kind of early for us to be talking about this?”

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched, making your heart drop.

“I mean, we just got married and we just got the house finished,” you rushed out. Damn Robin for adding a crib in the spare room upstairs when she was finished. What had she been thinking? “And we’re still settling in…you know?”  

A dark pink tinge began to take residence in her cheeks. Uh oh.

“I told you I wanted a family. You knew this when you asked me to marry you.”

That was true. She had told you that and you both were on the same page. You wanted a family, too, especially with her. But you also thought you’d have some time to yourselves for a little while before making the leap together into parenthood. That you’d have time to enjoy each other while getting ready financially and emotionally for that next step. You hadn’t imagined that a mere two days before your first month as a married couple that she’d be demanding you speed into that next chapter of your lives. You’d barely begun the first one. 

“I know you do, Leah, and I want one, too. But, babe, can we maybe postpone the baby talk just by…a few months?”

Her eyes began to shimmer. Oh no.

“Fine,” she snapped. She spun on her heel and stormed out the door. Well, you were in for a world of trouble.

You let out a heavy sigh and hurriedly finished eating. You gulped down the rest of your coffee, got up, placed your dishes in the sink, and made your way after her.  

You should’ve known something was up. She had been fidgeting around the kitchen, moving from room to room to water the plants she’d imbued your house with when she moved in. You liked for the greenery to stay outside (or in the greenhouse) but she insisted she needed a little nature around her in the home, too. It had been one of your first compromises as a newly married couple just living together for the first time. For you, it was an easy thing to give. If she needed plants for it to feel more like home for her, then plants would be all throughout your main living space (and they were). But you had seen her water the plants yesterday so you knew that in conjunction with the coffee and breakfast, her having watered your crops for you after getting up early, and the fidgeting…you should’ve seen this coming.

You found her working on her sculpture in the back that she had been working on almost every single day since she’d moved to your farm. She always told you not to look too closely, it wasn’t finished yet by any means, but you loved to watch her work. The look of concentration she got on her beautiful face, the intensity in her eyes, the peeking of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she hacked away at the wood, the strength with which she wielded the chisel — all of it was a joy to watch.

Right now, she appeared to be attacking the huge piece of wood than she was shaping and molding it into something. You sighed quietly and then cleared your throat. “Leah, can we talk?”

“Not right now. I’m busy.”

You deflated slightly. She was really angry with you. She never refused to talk to you unless she was beyond furious. 

You carefully approached her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, stopping her motions. “Babe, we really need to talk,” you implored.

She tossed the chisel onto the work bench she had situated next to her and slowly turned to face you. It broke your heart to see recent tear tracks on her cheeks, her eyes still glistening and threatening to renew them. “What is there to talk about? I want a baby and you don’t.”

“That’s not true, Leah. I want a baby, too.”

“No, you don’t. You just said—”

“I just said that maybe we should wait a few months and then revisit the issue. That’s all. Babe,” You placed your hands on her shoulders, rubbing reassuring circles into them with your thumbs. “We just got married and you just moved in. Let us settle in a little first before we start bringing kids into the mix.” She dropped her gaze to the ground and you squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t think what I’m asking is unreasonable,” you said in the gentlest tone possible.

She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “No. It’s not.” Her watery eyes met yours then. “But you don’t know how long the adoption process takes. Once we put in papers, we have to wait to be approved and then it could take a year or more for them to find us a baby.” Her eyes began to shimmer more intensely. “And I really want a baby,” she choked out before bursting into a sob.

You pulled her into your arms and hugged her, rubbing her back soothingly and shushing her in her ear. When she had cried herself out, when you heard sniffles and ragged inhales coming from your shoulder, then and only then did you move back and gently cup her face, wiping away any leftover tears with your thumbs. Even though her eyes were puffy and her face was red and her nose was running, she still was the most beautiful woman in the world to you. No one, not even Hayley, could top her beauty in your eyes.

“How about this? Give me two months—”

She opened her mouth to protest but you continued. 

“Two months and then we’ll revisit the kids conversation.” You felt her deflate under your touch but you worked to reassure her. “I want kids just like you do. I really do. And you’re right, I knew that about you when I married you. But like I said, we just got married and we need to settle into our life together first. So please give me that at least.”

Her eyes were wet once more but she sniffled and croaked out, “Okay.”

You smiled and pecked her lips, happy that you had been able to find a compromise. “In the meantime, why don’t you go ahead and fill out the adoption paperwork so we can file it and get approved?” Her expression brightened at that, her eyes now filling with a glimmer of hope instead of tears. “This way, when we’re ready, say, a couple of months down the line, we’ll already be approved and they can start looking right away for a baby for us.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, babe. Now, what part of the paperwork do I need to fill out? And how much are we talking for a filing fee? I have a little money saved so that shouldn’t be—mmph.”

Leah had launched herself at you and was kissing you passionately. You chuckled into her mouth, knowing that made her happy. When she pulled away so you could get some air, she peppered kisses all over your face before pecking your lips again. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling as she wrapped her arms around your neck. 

“Of course, sweetheart. I want you to be happy,” you whispered back. “I want us both to be happy.”

Her smile grew. “I am happy.”

“Good. Me too.” You kissed her sweetly but after a moment it began to turn heated. When you finally broke apart, seeing the light pink tinge in her cheeks, her lips a little swollen, and her gasping for air, you leaned into her ear to whisper huskily to her, “You know. That looks like a mighty fine workbench you’ve got there.”

“Oh no. Not my workbench and definitely not outside where anyone can walk up and see us. I still haven’t recovered from what happened last Spirit’s Eve. That was embarrassing enough for a lifetime, thank you.”

You pulled back, smirking down at her. “I don’t know why you keep going on about that. People thought any moans they heard were part of the haunted maze and I know you enjoyed yourself more than you’re willing to admit.”

Her cheeks reddened but her hands gripped your hips tightly and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip at the memory. “I hate you.”

She yanked you closer to her, and began to trail her lips down your jawline. “You sure have a weird way of showing that.”

“Shut up already and take me inside,” she murmured before kissing you again. 

“Yes ma’am,” you muttered to her lips. You picked her up and slung her over your shoulder fireman style, making her shriek and then giggle as you ran, right before you did just that. Tomorrow you could fill out the adoption paperwork; today, you intended to enjoy your time with your wife.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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[amazingmsme]

I am also here to add to the EPIC: The Musical agenda!! Thank you fluff-void because you made my writing brain go brr <3 -Sheridan

Polites and Odysseus start a damn tickle war, once Odysseus’s ticklishness gets out.

It’s really cute; Polites is jumpy and giggly for however long Odysseus feels like dragging out his anticipation, which can be a while depending on how mean he’s feeling. 

He plays it completely straight too, despite the smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. 

“Why so jumpy, brother? I was merely letting you know it’s my watch!” 

“Ah, I didn’t mean to startle you, there was simply a loose thread I didn’t want to risk you getting caught on.”

He’s so smug, ugh. 

The master of playful condescension and sarcasm as he lers. 

“Oh; this tickles? I had no idea!”  

“Being as ticklish as this? You must be an anomaly even the Gods can’t figure out. Heh; that or they cursed you. Wonder what you did in a past life~? Maybe you were just too cute for your own good. I’m willing to believe it- just listen to those adorable giggles and hiccups of yours!”

No strategy a lee of his thinks up will work 9 times out of 10. He’ll typically either know the person well enough, wait them out, or get a read on their strategy and then nip it in the bud. 

Eurylochus let slip a bad spot of his only he remembered and started to hide, only appearing for his scheduled shifts, burying himself in his work. and dodging Odysseus at meal times only to get cornered in his room by an already waiting Odysseus who just grinned at him with a glint in his eyes. 

“You know, I don’t think I quite remember your worst spots nearly as well as you do mine; shall we rediscover them together?”

“Captain, we can talk about this!”

Eurylochus tries to plead his case, already feeling a grin spreading across his lips but Odysseus merely cracks his neck and starts to move towards him. 

“Oh I think you’ve already done quite enough talking for your own good, don't you?”

Eurylochus is lost to laughter after that. 

He’s the one that gets most embarrassed when tickled in public, or in front of his men. His laughter is loud, and hard to contain when he finally cracks. 

Odysseus truthfully isn’t much better embarrassment wise inwardly but his ler side tends to keep the men more in line, along with being Captain so no-one’s the wiser. 

Eurylochus is there to make sure no-one goes too far, and intervene or turn the tables for those that deserve it. cough Odysseus cough

Odysseus gets so flustered if a God shows up while he’s being wrecked. Good Lord.

He can typically hold onto some remnant of his Captain persona otherwise but he crumbles if Athena or Hermes show up, especially if either teases him, or makes a sarcastic comment or dry quip like he tends to do when he’s the ler, or Gods forbid they help? It’s all over for him.

I’M EATING THIS RIGHT THE FUCK UP YOU HAVE NO IDEA! They’re so fucking cute & silly, they deserve to just have some fun & chill out. This got a lil long ‘cause I’m “normal” about them

Odysseus & Polites just go back & forth getting each other, & it all started when Polites just wanted to sneak up & startle him while he was having a conversation. But he surprised him by squeezing his sides & Odysseus was like “oh, you wanna start this?” & he’s so innocent like “start what?” & that’s the last thing he’s able to say

He’s Odysseus favorite to wreck because he’s just so cute & he makes it too easy. Odysseus loves fucking with him & pretending he’s not, it’s literally his favorite game

Shxjsvxuu his flimsy excuses are so funny cause like, yeah he COULD be telling the truth, but look at that smirk! Look at his eyes sparkling! That’s pure mischief baby! & the way he’s just so smugly casual is almost like a dare to be called out on it. & Polites tried to, once

“I know that’s not what you’re really doing!” & Odysseus cocks his head like “oh? So you’re calling me a liar?” & Eurylochus is looking at him from over the captain’s shoulder like don’t do it, but Polites keeps on truckin’. “No, that’s not what I’m saying” “then what are you saying?” & he’s using that teasy mocking tone & Polites is trying not to giggle & is like “you’re just trying to mess with me” & he grins & shrugs like “well now that you put the idea in my head” & Polites tries to be like “but the idea was already in your head!” But he’s wrestled to the ground before he can finish that sentence

I fucking love your examples of some of his teases cause they’re so spot on! He’s so smug & mean about it, he’s literally such a bullyyyy. He LOVES rubbing it in their face how ticklish they are or how much they’re laughing. Literally the best worst

Poor poor Eurylochus knew he fucked up the moment he said it. It just slipped out, Polites was finally getting some well deserved revenge, & in front of a small audience of some very amused soldiers. But he could see Odysseus was trying to get the upper hand, so he casually says “you should try his hips, they make him scream louder than the gods” & then freezes because he knows the target he just put on his back. & as if to confirm it, it the midst of the struggle Odysseus catches his eye & mouths “you’re dead” soooo yeah it’s time for his disappearing act

Some of the soldiers that bore witness catch on when they see that he’s not hanging around their captain & think it’s hilarious. They’ll sneak up behind him & go “boo” pretending to be Odysseus & it gives him a heart attack every damn time! Polites definitely notices his absence by their captain’s side & hunts him down to tease him about it. It backfires, but it was worth it in the moment. After like a week of hiding & strategic avoidance, he goes to his room to grab something. He walks in & the door slams shut behind him & Odysseus is standing there with his hand on the door, smug as ever. Just like “you’re a tough man to track down, you know that?”

He just starts backing up wondering if he could fit through the porthole window, slowly & carefully trying to plead his case. But Odysseus’s smile never falters & he’s just so ready to make him shut the hell up & laugh

Eurylochus has prided himself on his ability to always keep a cool head in most situations, so he gets really flustered any time he loses his composure. & nothing makes you lose your composure more than being tickled

He’s definitely really shy about it & his top priority is trying to hide his face or muffle his laughter. Odysseus loves to point out how he’d rather hide than fight back (that backfires because now he IS fighting back & Odysseus wasn’t prepared for that)

Odysseus talks such a big game for someone who can’t take what he dishes out. He blushes so much as soon as someone starts teasing him. He gets so cute & shy if he thinks he’s about to get wrecked & he goes over every escape option in his head

Ksbskandkf he would absolutely die on the fucking spot if a god personally bore witness to him in such a vulnerable, embarrassing position. Athena once showed up in the middle of Eurylochus & Polites wrecking him & she just quietly waits for them to finish. He’s soooo flustered & pissy that she just stood there & did nothing “I mean, the least you could’ve done was leave” & she’s smirking like “I need to talk to you. And you deserved to be humbled” but he’s still grumpy & embarrassed about it

[luveternals]

paring: Konig x rebel reader. rating: mature, MDNI cw: dystopia AU, enemies to lovers, angst, (not a story, just a sneak peak of the 1st version, sorry. link to thd completed story!) a/n: I haven't forgotten to post nor did I just decided to drop writing or whatever. This story just turned out to be more complicated than originally planned. Lie, I haven't planned bananas. I literally had no idea what to write until 3h ago and I was already 5h past the time I wanted to post the third story lol hate to do this but I'll have to push it back to my next scheduled day. ~ sneak peek of the 1st version ~ full story in 2 days ~

It’s difficult to stay true when the goal you’re trying to reach is not your own. Well, you do support the idea, somewhat, you wouldn’t be here otherwise. Wouldn't be taking cover behind a broken wall, breath forcefully kept slow and stead, and hoping the shadows would be enough to cover your tracks. Wouldn’t be risking your life for a mission that is destined to fail.

It’s an trap and, somehow, you feel your leaders knew it and still sent you out.

One of your brothers lays dead at your feet, his blood stains your feet and will lead the enemy to you the moment they find the footprints.

There’s a soft sniffle and you spin around to slap your hand against one of your sisters’ mouth. She stares at you and you stare back, your hand leaves a red imprint on her face and you see her twitch with the desperate need to wipe it off.

It was a set up. You’re all going to die. But your mission isn’t over yet.

She’s crying.

Go. You tell he with a motion of your free hand. She shakes her head eyes wide with panic, but you're already pushing her back. Go and live.

You don’t check if she does, body turning and slipping around the corner before you could even register any further protests.

The sound of fighting seems to be coming from all directions. Your family is fighting with all it has while you give your last attempt to make this total failure some kind of meaning.

You’re almost at the end of the alley when you stumble to a stop. A man stands there, body covered in gear and rifle steady in his hands as he points it in your direction.

He doesn’t say a thing but doesn’t move either. Don’t move or i’ll shoot, his posture says.

Your own gun is raised, solid and loaded and aimed at his head. “Get out of my way,” you says, throat dry and voice a breathless demand.

But he’s a solid obstacle. One taller than most and built to fight until his heart is forced to stop beating. He simply blinks and your grip tightens around the weapon.

“I will shoot you,” you say, but there is no real threat behind the words.

And he knows.

He lowers his gun at the words and, with movements smooth and so damn steady, pulls his head gear off.

His face is still hidden away whatever cloth he’s using doesn’t give much away about what one would find underneath it.

But the design has come so familiar to you during this fucked up war that your grip falters.

“I’m not letting you do it,” he says, and his voice and accent at the last hit your heart can take.

You arms go slack, and your head drops forward. Rain had started trickling at some point, the grim and filt of your boots and clothes polling at your feet. “Do you know how much i’ve lost for this?”

He doesn’t say anything but the silent words he must be thinking make your fists bench into fists.

“Your killing my brothers!”

“And you're killing mine,” his words take you by surprised, you didn’t expect him to say anything at all. Not about this.

What you did expect was him to hide away behind his social anxiety. Behind the excuse he doesn’t know how to act around others, that he doesn't know how to express his feelings properly.

Instead, he braves on — the only time finally does — and associates to the enemy.

~ ~ ~ a/n: I'm a bit of a perfectionist and this is actually killing me. But it's the middle of the night and I'm kinda sick. Whatever mistake I made is my own and will be gone soon. have a good night. enjoy your day. please forgive the delay ;^; it's only the third day damn

[sorryjustafangirl]

babe for the weekend

a/n: this is a little different than what i usually write, in terms of boy and structure but i am really really proud of how it turned out, so i hope y'all like it too! the title comes from Taylor Swift's ''tis the damn season" and it quite inspired by it. this is for @broadstbroskis, one of the very first writers i starting following on hockeyblr. it was an absolute honour to write for her in @antoinerousselssel's winter fic exchange and i really really hope she enjoys it (and all its Swiftie references <3)

pairing: morgan rielly x fem!reader

word count: 8.8k+

warnings: a few swears, holiday setting (although not crazy prominent), childhood idiot friends to lovers?

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and this beautiful gif is not mine! p.s. i know he got engaged recently (to the figure skating love of my life Tessa Virtue; congrats to them!) but i was too deep in the fic to switch it when i heard the news. hope you still love it!

Morgan had been getting you out of trouble since the day you two could walk. You’d knock over a vase, and he’d find a way to blame the dog. You’d convince him to mattress surf down the stairs, and he put it back while you stalled your mom so she wouldn’t know. He would tell his mom that she “saw you walk up the stairs after dinner like hours ago” when you only snuck in his window four minutes before. 

That didn’t end when he left to play junior hockey or when he got drafted and you moved across the country for school. Despite being in the same city, you relied less on him to bail you out as you got older, but every once in a while, his number was on speed dial to decipher if a guy was phishing you or for a 2am pickup from the club. 

Granted, you’d saved him just as many times. You’d posed as his girlfriend to save him from puck bunnies and more than once told his mom it was you he was out with, instead of the girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. Every other week, he’d call with a question he was too embarrassed to ask his own mom (“is $10 too much for a carton of orange juice?”). 

You just never thought he’d be bailing you out like this. 

As the youngest of four kids (and the last single one), your parents were overbearing about your love life to say the least. But in the holiday season? It dialed up to 11. 

“Are you sure you’re alright though? We don’t want you to be feeling lonely.” Your mom brought up at the end of your weekly Zoom family call, complete with all your siblings and grandma. 

“For the last time, I am not lonely. I have great friends, I have a good job at an ad agency, and my credit card is paid off. I’m doing great!”

“But it’s a big city, darling. You’ve been out of school for years and you still haven’t told us about any guy. Or-or girl, if you’re into that,” she tried to reason.

“Mom, she isn’t lonely because she’s getting some!” Ben, your youngest brother, chimed in, making you cringe. 

“Grow up, dork,” Julie, your eldest sister, said at the same time your older brother, James, said “Nice one!”

“Kids, you’re making Grams blush, can you knock it off?” Your dad chimed in. Ben’s face flushed but that didn’t stop James from poking the bear. 

“Just think Mom, there’s less people to feed at Christmas!” 

“That’s what you take out of this? Your sister could be at risk for depression.”

“I don’t have depression!”

“You always talk to me with an iced coffee, I do get a little concerned.” “Rude!” “Hey! Ruby drinks iced coffees too and she’s not depressed.” “She’s in a relationship with you, I’d rethink that.” “You aren’t depressed when you’re in happy relationships, that’s what I know.” “Grams, that is not true.” “That’s what Cynthia at book club said!” “None of that changes the fact that your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time and I’m worried about her!” “She’s not that old Brenda.” “She’s not seventeen anymore Thomas, our daughter is getting older and if she wants kids–” “Kids? Mom, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” “That’s my point!” “Who said she wants kids?” “Julie, you’re a mother, you should know every woman wants kids!” “Grams, that isn’t true.” 

All of their overlapping voices seemed to get louder, rattling around in your brain, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I have a boyfriend!” You blurted and the screen silenced. You relished the small moment of quiet before the sound exploded again. 

“What?” “Yes!” “Who is he?” “Is he coming home with you?” “What’s his name?”

“Woah, woah. One at a time please,” you nervously laughed. 

“What’s his name?” The smiles on your mom and Grams faces were so wide it was starting to freak you out and your brain froze. What’s a boy’s name what’s a boy name what’s a boy’s name??

“Morgan.” 

Your brain blurted out the name before you realized its implications. 

“Morgan?” Your mom’s smile widened. “Like our Morgan? The Rielly’s boy?” 

Shit, shit, shit. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“If they couldn’t get together in high school, no way it would happen now. I say it’s different.” “There’s lots of Morgans in Toronto! It’s a big city.” 

“Yeah, I call bullshit on this whole boyfriend thing,” your older sister Julie chimed in.

You felt blood starting to drain from your face “What?” 

“Oh c’mon! All we have is a name? You don’t want to share his job or what he looks like? You can’t even tell us if he’s coming back with you. You’re just faking it.”

“His work is busy, we haven’t decided if he’s coming back yet!”

“Two weeks before the holidays?” She raised an eyebrow and you pursed your lips. 

“Fine. I was going to surprise you instead, but yes he’s coming back with me. And he has blond hair. Happy?” Julie only shrugged but you could hear your grandmother rejoice in the background of the call. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

“With Morgan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet him!”

“Yes. With Morgan.” You ended the phone call and flopped into your couch pillows before letting out a scream. 

Where were you going to find a Morgan with blond hair to act as a fake-boyfriend to meet your family across the country?  

-----

“Just call your Morgan.” Your best friend, Ivy, said as the two of you sat in Fran’s, the best diner for burger and fries past Jarvis street, for your regular lunch chat.  

“No, it’d be weird! He’s known my family for a long time and we’re friends.” You shook your head while munching on your fries. 

“Those are exactly the reasons you should take him! Plus, you said his name. I don’t get why you’re making it into this big deal about taking him.” 

“Because it is!”

“But why? It’s not like you’re in love with him,” She said, dipping her fries in ketchup. 

“About that…” You trailed off, biting your lip waiting for her reaction. 

She dropped the food before it could get to her mouth. “No!”

“Look, it was when we were in high school! I was about to tell him when we moved out here, but then he was saying how there was so much on his plate and he was feeling a lot of pressure and I just didn’t want to add to that, you know?” You took a bite of your food before continuing. “I didn’t want him to resent me for telling him at such a crucial point in his life.” 

“And now?”

You shrugged. “I think I’ll always have some sort of feelings for him. He was my best friend growing up.”

“You’re going to have to be really good at hiding those feelings when you’re posing as boyfriend and girlfriend with him.”

“Who said I’m asking him?”

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Where else are you going to find a blond-haired Morgan to bring home to your family across the country in less than two weeks?” You threw a fry at her, which she grabbed and put on her own plate. “Besides, there’s no harm in asking. He can always say no.”

-----

“Yes.”

“Really?” You asked a little too loudly, putting your coffee mug down a little too harshly, gaining the attention of others in the cafe the two of you routinely catch up in. But you didn’t care. You were expecting a little more skepticism from Morgan when you proposed him playing a fake boyfriend role in front of your family. 

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s my job to bail you out of trouble, isn’t it?” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Besides, I haven’t seen Vancouver or your family in a while. It’d be nice to go back to the old times.” 

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, instinctively placing a hand on his arm laid across the table. “Okay, so I don’t know when your season ends but I’m hoping we can fly out for like three days maximum, so it’ll be quick, and we can use your job as an excuse so that’ll be good. For the story, obviously we just went out one day after being friends for a long time, so that’ll be easy. You asked me out. Five or six months is a good timeline for them not knowing but also you coming home so let’s stick to that. You can’t tell your parents because my mom will be furious if Shirley knew before her. Um, Ben, my little brother – you know him–, he’s bringing his girlfriend Ruby, but she’s chill so you’ll get along with her a lot. Drew, my oldest nephew, he’s Julie’s kid and then Charlie and Julie had Rebekah the year before last and Izzy, who is James’s wife, just had baby Taylor a couple months ago so the house is going to be chaotic. You should be writing this down, you know.” You slowed down to notice that Morgan was just staring at you. “I just said so much stuff you need to remember.”

“I know your family. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll remember all that,” He assured you, placing a hand over your arm like you had done to him.

“Are you sure? I just..I can’t have this go wrong. Julie already suspects the legitimacy of this…fake relationship.”

He squeezes your arm and sends you one of his smiles that makes your heart swell. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

-----

You’d both decided that it’d be easiest if you came to the airport together, so you said you’d pick him up from morning practice. You were waiting in the parking garage at the arena, scrolling through your phone, until you heard footsteps. Looking up, you see Morgan, Mitch, and Willy walking towards you. You give them a shy wave, and they all return with big grins, like they knew something they didn’t. Morgan came up to you, swung an arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Bye guys, safe travels,” He shouted over his shoulder, the two of you walking towards your vehicle. Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Morgan.

“What was that?” 

“What?”

“That forehead kiss!”

“Oh!” His smile grew a little. “I was practicing for this weekend. Was it okay?” His slight concern made your heart beat faster and you could feel heat starting to go to your face. 

“I mean, yeah, but like won’t the guys think that, you know, we’re—” 

“Believe me, the guys already think we’re together.”

“What?!”

He laughed. “They asked about my plans for the holidays and I said I was going home with you. They just assumed we were dating and it felt like a lot of work to correct them. It’s okay, I promise.”

“If you say so,” you hummed. You unlatched yourself from his arm as you approached your car but Morgan stopped in his tracks and started to laugh. 

“You’re still driving this old thing?” He was referring to your blue Honda you’d had since high school. 

“Excuse me, you named this thing and Louise is still in great shape so of course I still drive her. Now get in.” He holds up his hands in surrender. You buckled yourself in and turned the engine over. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree and the radio was uneven again, so you hit the console a few times before it started to come out of both speakers. 

“Great shape, sure.”

“Shut up.” 

-----

Despite the busyness of the Toronto Pearson International Airport during the holidays, the two of you seemed to breeze through security and boarding. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the airplane, you’d realized just how much anxiety you got from flying. 

Morgan offered to put both carry-on bags in the overhead bins and you gladly took him up the offer. You slid into your seat, immediately putting on the seatbelt and making it tight against your hips. 

“We aren’t flying just yet,” He teased, sliding into the seat next to you.

“I know, it’s just that I–nevermind, it’s silly.” You murmured with a strained smile. 

“No, what is it?” You met your eyes and you took a deep breath. This was Morgan, your Morgan. He’d seen you cry after you got root beer up your nose and he only laughed a little. 

“Airplanes give me a lot of anxiety and I hate takeoffs. It’s just really nerve wracking for me.” 

“Okay, well I’m right here. Would it help if I held your hand?” You shyly nodded, and Mo grabbed a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You tried to take deep breaths but after the safety presentation, and the plane started to taxi, it got shallower and the grip on Morgan’s hand got stronger.

“I think it's time for a distraction. Want to help me out here?” He said, turning his body towards yours as much as he could. You nodded, trying not to focus on the bouncing of the wings outside your window. 

“What kind of pet names do you like?”

That was…not what you were expecting but it certainly is a distraction. “I don’t really know? I didn’t name our dogs, Julie or my parents did. Why?” You look over to Morgan to see him quietly laughing to himself. “What?” 

“I meant like, romantic pet names. So I can play this boyfriend role right, you know?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Uh, I don’t really know. My past boyfriends weren’t really into those.” You continued to take deep breaths as he pulled out his phone. 

“Okay, cool, I’ve got a list and we can just go through them?” You nodded and he started. 

“Honey?”

“We aren’t fifty years old Mo.”

“Sweetie?”

“I’m not five either,” you joked. At your attempt at humour, you say Morgan’s face lit up. 

“What about sweetheart?” Your grimace made him laugh and he moved on. “Kitten? Dear? Babe? Sugar plum?”

“You can call me babe. For the weekend, of course. I like that one.” 

“Of course, babe.” He winked. “And look, we’re in the air already. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You looked out and the clouds were level, the city skyline peeking through like a scene out of a movie. You look back at him to see him already looking at you. Unable to say everything you feel for him in that moment (platonically, you tell yourself), you squeeze his hand. 

-----

As you touched back in Vancouver (still holding Morgan’s hand for safety purposes), it started to feel real. Real you were back in the city, real Morgan was here, and real that you were supposed to be acting like you’re in love. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Hold my bag for me?” Morgan asked, once you’d deplaned and entered the airport. You nodded and shooed him off, finding a place in the nearest lounge to wait for him. You pulled out your phone and started to catch up on messages when someone beside you cleared their throat.

“Sorry to bother you but did you go to Prince of Wales Secondary School in Vancouver?” You turned towards the voice to see someone so familiar but couldn’t put a finger on who.

“Um, yes. How did you know that?”

“I’m Abigail Brown. I think you were my lab partner in high school chemistry?” As soon as she said it, it was like everything rushed back to you. The two of you were good friends but just fell out of touch as years went on. 

“Oh my gosh yes! Oh my gosh, hi! How have you been?” You got out of your seat to give her a hug. 

“I’ve been really good! My girlfriend and I are headed to London for the holidays.”

“Oh fun! I’ve come back for the holidays with my uh..” You trailed off, thinking of what to call this arrangement. “Morgan Reilly, do you remember him?”

“Yeah, totally. Did he come back with you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, we’re here together.”

“No way, that’s so sweet! Back in the day, everyone was wondering when you two would get together!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, surprised. You had thought that your crush on one of your closest friends was pretty discrete. 

“Yeah, a lot of us thought you’d be a cute couple. Turns out we were right,” she winked and nodded her head behind you. You turned to see Morgan coming back with two Tim Horton cups in his hands – one hot coffee for him and one Iced Capp for you. You tilted your head at his thoughtfulness. 

“My flight is boarding now, but it was so nice to see you again!” Abigail said, waving briefly to Morgan before leaving with her girlfriend. 

“Yeah, you too!” You called after her. “Is that coffee for me?” You asked, a wide smile on your face. 

“Because it is so ridiculously early, it is,” he said, placing it in your hands. “Who was that?”

“My high school lab partner. She thought we were together, actually.”

Morgan gave you a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to think?”

“I mean, I guess, but we’re really just pretending for my family, so I didn’t think she’d think we’re together.” Morgan only hummed at your response and grabbed his bag. 

“Ready to head to your parents' then?” 

Like coming home, the two of you navigated through the airport easily and were on your way to your parents house in no time. Outside of the Uber, looking up at your childhood home, you felt your nerves getting the best of you again. The warm Christmas lights and the three cars in the driveway should’ve calmed you down, but instead had the opposite effect.

“Okay, so, again, we’ve been dating for five months, you asked me out. We kept it a secret, so your parents don’t know either. Ruby is Ben’s girlfriend. Drew and–”

“–Rebekah are Julie and Charlie’s kids. Rebekah is two years old. James married Izzy and their baby, Taylor, was born last month,” He finished with a smile. “Told ya I’d remember it. It’s going to be fine, let’s just go see your family?” He held out his hand for you to take and you cautiously placed it in his. He tugged you up to the front door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to ring the doorbell. He left it over your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

“Trust me, we’ve got this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek but before you could process what he was playing at, your mom had opened the front door.

“Oh, it is our Morgan! Thomas, I told you it was going to be him! Oh, come in, come in,” she ushered you in and your family all appeared, saying their hellos, taking your bags up to your room, placing drinks in your hands and leading you both into the living room. You settled in beside Morgan, your thighs touching each other as he reached over to entangle your hand with his.

“So, Morgan, my daughter hasn’t told us anything yet! How long have you been together?” Your mom said, once everyone was back together and catching up with the two of you. 

“Couldn’t have been too recent if you brought him home with you,” Julie said, her skepticism showing through. 

“Can’t be too long either since she never told us about him!” James said, nudging her.

Before you could get a word in and defend yourselves, Morgan spoke up. “We started dating five months ago. Might seem a little fast to come home for Christmas but I remember your family pretty well from when I was little. Plus, the schedule lined up really nicely this year so we figured, why not? But we decided to keep it to ourselves for the first little bit, with my job and everything. It can be a really hard adjustment. Especially with the media, I didn’t want them to freak her out.” 

“Aw, how sweet of you.” 

“Who asked who out?” Ruby said, curled up next to her boyfriend. 

“She asked me.” Your heart stopped as Morgan deviated from the plan you’d created. “It was nice, though, so I didn’t have to rack up the courage to ask her the same thing.” He turned towards you, meeting your eyes. To your family, you were recounting your first date and how you’ve been in love since. But Morgan was trying to get away with changing the story and you were civilly throwing daggers at him. 

“That’s nice. But you’ve got to get dressed, we’re still going cross country skiing this afternoon.” Julie said, standing up. 

“Why?” you whined. “We’re tired from traveling.”

“Then exercise will be good for you. And it’s tradition, you can’t deprive Morgan of that.” The smile she sent you was fake and you could tell, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“Yeah, babe, don’t deprive me from family traditions,” he commented, earning a small poke to his side, but you nodded, going to find your warm clothes. 

-----

Cypress Mountain was where your family always skied on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition passed on from your grandfather, who’d done it with his father, and your family liked to keep it alive. It was a thirty minute drive, forty five in Vancouver traffic, so your head fell to Morgan’s shoulder. Soon enough, he was shaking you awake.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” He said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ready?”

“The better question is if you’re ready. I’ve been doing this for years,” you laughed, getting out of the car and walking towards the lodge to get Morgan skis. 

“Please, I’m an athlete. I’ll be fantastic.” He grabbed your hand and your heart started to beat faster at the cute gesture, only to notice some of your family behind you, watching the two of you. Of course, it was only for show. What else would be for? You reminded yourself. 

Twenty minutes later, and you were still watching Mo struggle to clip his skis in, trying not to laugh when he fell over. 

“‘I’m an athlete, I’ll be fantastic’” you said, mocking him and he pouted. You unclipped your own skis and held your hands out to help him get up. 

“The key is this little latch here,” you said, guiding his foot into the ski. You did the same with the other before getting yourself ready. 

“Where would I be without you?” He said, as the two of you, slowly, moved to the track. 

“Probably still be on the ground,” you said with a cheeky smile. You knocked his poles with yours. “Want to go this way? It’s easier than the track they’re doing,” you said, referring to the rest of your family. 

He looked up at the hill your family, including your little nephew, were already halfway up and shook his head. 

“If this is a family tradition, and I’m supposed to be part of your family, I should do it with them. We can join them, I’ll be okay.” 

Morgan was right, for the most part. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon enough you were both caught up to your family. He was smiling, and talking with your dad and brothers. You had time to catch up with Ruby and Charlie, who you never really saw in the family Zoom chats. 

Until you rounded the corner and saw Morgan standing to the side. You didn’t understand why until you saw what was ahead – the hills. For your family, including daredevil Drew, it was easy. But for a beginner like Morgan? You understood why he stopped. 

“If you want to turn back now, it’s okay. They’ll understand.” 

He shook his head again. “I’ve got to sell this boyfriend thing, don’t I? Just…can you go first?” You nodded and made your way down, gaining some speed before slowing down and stopping at the base to watch him. 

“You’ve got this, Mo, just do it!” You told him. He nodded at your words and came down slowly, mimicking the way you had just conquered the hill. His eyes were determined, the way you saw he was on the ice, and your smile got wider as he made it down successfully.

“Yes! You did it!”

That was, until he caught an edge and very ungracefully tumbled to the ground. 

“Well, you mostly did it. I thought you were supposed to be coordinated!” You said in a joking manner, maneuvering over to where he was trying to get up. 

“I don’t usually have these long things attached to my feet!” After his attempts, he held his hands out and you helped him stand upright again. 

“Are you okay? It looked like you fell pretty hard.” 

“My ego is bruised more than anything,” He mumbled. 

“Why? None of them saw your wipeout.” You nodded towards your family who were all ahead and had no idea of what had happened.

“But you did.”

“It’s not like you have to impress me,” You said, waving it off and starting to move along the trail. He only huffed, settling into pace beside you. 

-----

After making it back to the lodge in one piece, you all traveled back to your parent’s and sat down for a family dinner, albeit quick, as the kids’ bedtime was long ago. You helped your mom with the dishes while Morgan had “bonding time”, as he called it, with your brothers and Dad. 

“I’m glad you brought Morgan home, sweetheart,” she said, breaking through the quiet sounds of washing dishes. “He’s a catch and you seem really happy with him.”

You blushed, involuntarily, and nodded. “I am really happy when I’m with him.”

There were sounds of protests and laughter, so you peeked your head around to see Ben on the couch leaning over Morgan’s lap to ruffle James’ hair, only to get caught by Morgan in a loose headlock. Your dad was laughing at their antics and you joined him. It was nice to see Morgan be so carefree, especially with the stress of the season. 

“Hey!” Ben got your attention. “Your boyfriend is bullying me, tell him to stop!” 

“Maybe you deserved it,” You said, moving to be behind the couch. “Morgan is usually right.”

Morgan looked at you and only let Ben free once you gave me a small nod. You leaned down over the couch, wrapping your arms around his chest. At the slight display of affection, James gagged but thankfully, Izzy came down and whisked away her husband. Ben left shortly after that and you noticed Morgan’s head starting to drop. 

“Okay, we’re still on Toronto time a little bit,” You checked with Morgan, who was nodding along. “So we’re going to hit the hay, but Mom, I didn’t see the spare blankets for the pull-out couch?”

“Oh, you don’t need them, Ben has them.”

“What?” You asked, removing your hands from Morgan so he couldn’t tell how clammy they suddenly got. “Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”

“In your bed. It’ll be better for his back.” She answered. 

“Where am I going to sleep?” 

“In your bed.” She sighed when she saw the shock on your face. “Look, we trust Morgan. Besides, it’s a big bed and your dad and I aren’t under the impression you haven’t already slept together.” Her bluntness made you choke on your breath and Morgan patted your back, answering for you.

“Thank you Brenda. We'll be good, I promise.” 

“I know you will. And if you aren’t, know I’m not above telling your mother,” She said with a smirk. “Now, goodnight.” 

You both said your goodnights, and headed up to your room. Morgan shut the door behind you and you immediately started apologizing. 

“I’m sorry, I was certain she’d send one of us to the basement. She never let Charlie or Izzy sleep in the same room with my siblings until they were married,” you said, rummaging through your suitcase for pajamas. 

He waved you off and took a look around your room. It hadn’t changed much since high school, your parents leaving it unchanged for when you came back. The photos in the frames and on the walls were faded and each childhood trophy and trinket was covered in a small layer of dust – not enough for it to be untouched, but enough for it to be preserved. 

The sound of you digging through the closet for extra pillows broke him away from your walls. There were two blankets spread out on the floor and you dropped the pillows you’d found on the space above them.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” You answered. “You can get changed in the bathroom.”

“Why aren’t you in the bed?” 

“Because you’re sleeping on the bed, hotshot. Can you please get changed, I want to sleep.” He huffed but nodded, slipping out of the room. When he came back to see you curled up on the floor beside the queen sized bed, he let out a small sigh and moved towards you. 

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Please come sleep on the bed?” He said, standing over top of you.

“I…I don’t want it to be weird.” You said, suddenly interested in the fraying fibres of your blanket. 

“It’s not going to be weird. I promise. Please?” You turned to see him with his puppy-dog eyes and you started to break.

“I don’t know Mo…”

“I’d feel better if you slept in the bed, babe, please? For me?” At that, you relented, nodding your head. He helped you up, gathering the blankets from the floor and laying them over you in the bed. 

He slipped in beside you, a large margin of space between the two of you. It was silent as you got comfy and you turned off your side table light. Morgan hadn’t followed your lead, so you looked over to see him looking at his side table. 

“Remember when we took this picture?” Morgan said, pointing to the only frame on the table. You didn’t even have to look at the photo to know which one he was referring to. It was the last day he spent in Vancouver before the draft and it was a few days before your graduation date. You’d taken your car to the North Shore and hiked to Lighthouse Park. The serenity of being able to see far into the ocean and see the downtown skyline was the place both of you had gone to clear your mind. You’d taken a silly selfie together but it was the one physical memento of your last time together in Vancouver. It was when you almost confessed your feelings to him. 

“Of course I do. It was a good day.”

“Do you think about it a lot?” He asked, and you turned your body to face him. 

“I mean, sometimes, yeah. Do you think about it a lot?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on the picture. “Yeah. Reminds me of when life seemed normal.” 

You stayed silent for a few moments, watching his eyes begin to get hazy looking at the picture. “Are you okay, Mo?”  

He just nodded curtly, and turned off the light. “Goodnight.” 

You couldn’t lie and say his behaviour didn’t feel like a thousand cuts to your heart but you said goodnight before turning to face away from him, like he’d done to you. 

-----

The sun shining in from the window woke you up in the morning. You started to stir, stretching your arms and legs, but stopped when you felt arms around you. You slowly turned your head to see Morgan close to you, his arms wrapped around your waist. Sometime during the night, he must’ve moved to start cuddling you. You thought it should feel weird, being so close to your friend like this, but all you felt was a sense of calm. Being hyper aware of his arms, you shifted slightly to face him. 

You took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Not on the TV, through his hockey gear, not in the cafe when he was conscious that anyone could recognize him, but when he was just him. The sun was shining on him, giving his skin that soft golden glow. The lines on his forehead were almost nonexistent and his beard was filling out nicely. He looked so peaceful here, like he wasn’t one of Toronto’s biggest stars. You looked at him, your face softening as he started to stir under your gaze.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you teased in a quiet voice, the same way he’d done to you yesterday. 

“Hmm, what time is it?” His voice was raspy and it took everything in yourself not to kiss him right there.

“Early,” you answered and he hummed in response. He slowly opened his eyes and must’ve noticed how close he was to you because his eyes got increasingly wider. His eyes met yours and when he didn’t see any panic or disgust in them, he relaxed, a small smile coming onto his face. 

“Morning babe,” He said, pulling you a little closer to him. 

“Nobody’s around, you don’t have to call me that.”

“What if I want to?” 

You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock and your lips parted. What did he say? It might have been a shock to your brain, but your body seemed to long for a closeness to him. Your heart wasn’t beating faster, no, it seemed to slow down, as if the idea of a relationship with him was the only thing to calm you. 

You noticed his eyes glancing down at your lips and you swallowed. Was he…what was he doing? He started to lean his head towards you and you felt yourself leaning in as well. He was close enough you could feel his breath hot on your face and see the grey flicks in his eyes. You started to close your eyes, his hand caressing your waist from under the covers, and —

“Auntie, Auntie! He came! Santa came! You have to get up! Come see!” Drew yelled through the door, pounding away as if you didn’t hear him. You broke away from Morgan, the small bubble popped by your nephew.  

“We’ll be right there Drew!” you yelled back, rubbing your forehead and getting out of bed. You left Morgan in bed, running downstairs to start some coffee, desperately needing to clear your head. What just happened? 

“Morning, sweetheart!” You sighed as your mom walked into the room, too chipper for how early it was. “I’ve got the pajamas for you and Morgan.”

“Morgan too?” It was a tradition to dress in matching pajamas on Christmas morning but you didn’t think it was something your parents would enforce for him. 

“Yup. Go get changed, I want to take photos soon.” She placed the two pajama sets in your arms and you trudged upstairs. You figured Mo was still laying in bed so you didn’t knock, just charged right in. Maybe you should’ve knocked. But then you wouldn’t get to see Morgan shirtless. Your brain short-circuited until you saw him looking back at you and you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to knock! My mom wanted me to give you these. Matching pajamas and photos before gifts is a family tradition.” You tried to pull out his pair with your eyes closed but Mo just laughed when he saw you struggling. He came closer, his distinctive cologne invading your senses. He took one of the pairs, hopefully his size, from your arms.

“You can open your eyes, it’s okay.” You slowly opened one eye to test the waters, to see he was still without a shirt. You stared at him as long as it is socially acceptable to look at your best friend shirtless, before rushing out of the room to get changed yourself. 

You beat Morgan downstairs, and got started on the coffees. After buying him many hungover wake-up coffees, you knew his order by heart. You brought them out to the table, your sister and her family having their portrait taken in front of the tree. 

Mo came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and taking a whiff of your coffee. He recoiled at the hint of chocolate. 

“Yours has vanilla creamer, don’t worry,” you told him, taking a sip while watching Taylor get her first family photo in front of the tree. It was so nice to see the smiles across your family’s faces as you had this tradition. When it became Ben and Ruby’s turn, you noticed Drew starting to get a little antsy, his eyes fixated on the big box with his name on it. 

“Okay, sweetheart, yours and Morgan’s turn,” your mom said, clearing the area for you two to sit. 

“Oh, Mom, Drew’s looking a little antsy. We can skip ours–”

“No!” Mo interrupted you, taking one last sip of his coffee before tugging you along to sit in front of the tree. You gave him a look and smiled shyly. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want a picture. Please?” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You turned to the camera, plastering a smile on. You were pretty close to him, your legs touching and his arm around your shoulders. Near the end,  Morgan pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blushed, the sound of the camera clicking long forgotten as you stared into his eyes. 

“Auntie, can I please please open my presents from Santa now?” Drew said, once again interrupting the moment between you and Morgan.

“Of course, baby, but you have to open the ones from me and Morgan next, deal?” He shrieked and scrambled over to the boxes, ripping into his wrapping paper. You stood up, grabbing your coffee before watching your nephew and niece on Christmas morning.

“Look at how cute you two are together,” She said, tilting the camera towards you. The first one was a cute photo. Morgan had his lips pressed against your cheek and your face was scrunched up in joy. She switched it to the next one, where the two of you were looking into each other’s eyes. He had the softest, earnest smile on his face. “I swear, I haven’t seen any people so in love since Ben met Ruby. I’m so glad you brought him home.” 

“Thanks, Mom.” You put on the best fake-smile you could, and turned back to the kids, trying not to think about how they two of you did look in love. But it wasn’t real and your stomach sunk. You took a seat on the couch, talking to Rebekah about her new doll and watching Drew drive his toy cars across the coffee table. 

“Who are these from?” you dad asked, holding up some small packages wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh, those are from me sir.” Morgan spoke up from behind you, moving to sit beside you. “There should be one for everyone.” Your dad nodded and handed them out to everyone while you turned to your fake-boyfriend. 

“Mo, I told you you didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, eyeing everyone tearing into their small gifts. 

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He winked at you, before turning to see their reactions. You were glad you’d turned too.

Everyone was holding up a different variety of a Toronto Maple Leafs keychain. Ben held one with a bottle opener on it and Drew held one that had skate on it. Some of them had the shape of Ontario with them or a special spinny part in the middle.

“You’re really banking on us liking you, eh?” Julie said, holding up her Rielly jersey keychain. 

“I’m planning on sticking around for a while. I figure you’ll be fans sooner or later,” he laughed off your sister’s hazing and assured your parents it was the least he could do. He turned to you. “And I didn’t forget you either.”

“What? No. Babe, I thought we were doing gifts back in Toronto?” If you’d known, you would’ve gotten him something, but he seemed unfazed. He brought out a medium box and placed it in your lap.  

“Are you sure? I didn’t bring anything for you,” you whispered to him. He just nodded and told you to open it. You ripped into the wrapping paper, opened the box, and tore out the tissue paper only to stop.

“You didn’t.” 

“I did,” He said, his face growing. “Bring it out, let’s see it.”

You lifted out of the box a dark wash denim jacket, the same one you’d been trying to rationalize buying for the past three months. It was your size and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the seams, tracing the buttons. 

“Check the inside,” Morgan said, leaning over your shoulder. You turned your head to see him slightly blushing, and you turned to the jacket’s inside as quickly as you could. Inside there was a small label stitched in. Upon closer inspection, you read what it said and your breath hitched. 

 You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town. Don’t forget it. Love, your Morgan

“Mo, I don’t even know what to say. This is-this is perfect. I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before slipping out of the room, both empty mugs in his hands. Your heart started to beat faster again, and as you stared down at the inscription, you had to remind yourself that it didn’t mean anything special. He was acting like your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. This was all fake, and this must’ve been a part of it; a show for your family to make sure you didn’t get in trouble. 

You shoved those feelings deep inside you, instead focusing on the Christmas spirit your family had. The living room was full of laughs and someone had turned on the Christmas music. Morgan came back and sat beside you, his arm resting comfortably over the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but curl into his side. The kids came over and asked to play with Morgan and he eagerly agreed, switching from playing cars to dolls to lifting them up to play the airplane game. Like the Grinch, your heart grew three sizes watching him interact with your family – the way he was so patient and sweet with them meant everything, even if he was just pretending. 

Later, your Grams arrived and Morgan was quick to win her over as well. You bit your lip, trying to stop from smiling so wide as you watched him help her with her coat, and lead her over to where he was sitting. 

“Do you mind holding her for a few minutes?” Izzy said, coming over with Taylor in her arms.

“Of course not! Come ‘ere, darling girl.” You rocked the baby in your arms, sometimes looking over to where Morgan was. Sometimes you even catch him looking at you. You took Taylor’s little hand and waved at him, and he over-enthusiastically waved back, making you laugh. 

“You picked a good one, you know? The two of you are really adorable together.” Izzy said, coming back to take her daughter from you. 

“Thanks Iz. He’s just…” You trailed off, trying to describe the situation. “I couldn’t imagine doing all of this with anyone else.” And it was the truth. From the plane ride to skiing to the gifts this morning, you couldn’t fathom bringing back a stranger and pulling this off in the same way. 

“Sounds like you’ve found the one then.” Her comment made you choke on air and turned into a full coughing fit. Before you knew it, Morgan was beside you, his blue eyes full of concern. 

“Are you okay?” His hand was rubbing your upper back as you continued to cough. You nodded as best you could, and he turned to get his cup. When you seemed to be finished, he handed it to you. 

“Here, drink. It’s water.” You gulped down the water and sighed. 

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m good, thank you. I’m just going to get my lip balm; will you be okay on your own for a while?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm. 

“It’s your family, not war,” He laughed. “Go, I’ll be fine.” 

You smiled at his comment and gave him a quick cheek peck before making your way out of the room. In the bathroom, you took a breather, trying to stop your cheeks from blushing. Whatever you were doing with Morgan, it felt real. But it wasn’t, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that before you got hurt. 

When you exited, Grams was standing outside the door. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was waiting,” you said, quickly leaving the bathroom but she waved you off. 

“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. But dear, my goodness, that Morgan. He’s a keeper, dear. You hold onto him, you hear me? With him, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She said, patting your cheek before walking past you to the bathroom. You stood in shock for a moment at her words, before taking a deep breath and moving on. 

You were just friends. 

You repeated that to yourself as you sat next to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You repeated it again when he moved your legs into his lap, caressing your ankle. You said it again when he snagged the race car, arguably the best Monopoly piece, only to give it to you, taking the lame iron for himself. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Julie said, tapping your shoulder, just before Monopoly (another family tradition) started. You nodded, and lifted your legs out of Mo’s lap. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following her into the kitchen. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize.” You furrowed your brows a little bit. “You know, for thinking your relationship was fake? It was wrong for me to think your relationship wasn’t serious but…I was just trying to look out for Mom and Dad. You don’t see how worried they get when you say you don’t have anyone in that big city. You’re the youngest, they’re always going to worry. And it’s just …You never even remotely told me about anyone and I didn’t want you to be faking it, just to get them off your back. But I was wrong and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting your relationship. He’s perfect for you, and you seem really happy together.” 

It was everything you’d been wanting to hear – that even the most skeptic of your family bought your lie and was happy for Christmas. But no relief came like you thought it would; only a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks Julie, that…that means a lot. Would you excuse me please?”

You slipped out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. You paced around for a few moments, before sitting on the edge of your bed, placing your head in your hands. You’ve gotten in too deep now and it’s going to hurt everyone — yourself included — when you have a ‘breakup’. Your mom will resent Morgan, sweet sweet Morgan, and he’ll probably get chewed out by his own mother, and it’ll all be your fault. You did this to your family, to Morgan, to yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” Morgan said, leaning against your doorframe. 

“Julie thinks we’re dating. Like for real. They all do. ” At your words, he pushed off the wall and sat beside you on the bed, his hands dangerously close to touching yours. You move them into your lap before you can’t function. 

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was the whole point of this? To make them think we’re dating?”

“No, it was. It’s just….” You trailed off, looking down at your hands. 

“It’s just what?” 

“It’s too much, okay!” You stood up and turned to face him. “Like you’re here. You’re in Vancouver again, with me again, in my parent’s house like we’re fifteen again! You can’t be around like this and expect me not to think about the road not taken! And it doesn’t seem to bother you! And I don’t like lying! I don’t need to be lying to both our families, your teammates, my friends! I don’t need to be lying to myself that I don’t enjoy this! It feels wrong. I know we lied a lot as kids, but it feels different this time. It feels like people are going to get hurt and I don’t think I was prepared for that.” 

He took a moment. “We don’t have to lie, you know.”

“What do you mean? We’re fake dating; fake indicating lies.” You crossed your arms across your chest. 

He took another moment, taking a deep breath. “We don’t have to be fake dating. We could…be dating for real.”

“What?” you whispered.

“Can I be honest here? Like really honest?” He asked, and you could only nod slightly. “I thought you would’ve got your head out of your ass by now. I thought you had feelings for me.

"Why do you think you said my name? You could’ve said any other name but you said mine. You could’ve found any other Morgan in Toronto but you asked me. You could’ve come clean to them! There were a thousand ways you could’ve gotten out of this but you didn’t! I thought that meant we had something special; that you were finding excuses to bring me here.” He sees your blank, shocked face as a sign to continue. 

“And now that we’re here? Back in our hometown? It just all rushes back to me about how I didn’t tell you how I felt. Then I spend the days doing your family traditions and seeing you so happy with Drew and Rebekah and thinking that I could’ve had this a long time ago. But I was a coward and I don’t know if I can make the same mistake again.”

“What are you talking about?” You said breathlessly. 

“When we were at Lighthouse Park that day, I almost told you I loved you. But I didn’t. And I went to Toronto and tried to forget the huge regret I’d made. I can’t- I can’t do that again. I love you. I have loved you since we were kids. I didn’t want you to be tied down when you moved out so I didn’t say anything and I tried to forget how I felt about you. But in two days, you’ve made me fall for you all over again and I can’t go back to how things were. I won’t. I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend when I am irrevocably in love with you. I want this,” He stood up and walked closer to you, his fingers reaching out for yours. “I want this to be real.” 

“Mo…holy shit.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot, I know.” He went to step back, to give you space after everything he said, but you held onto his hand tighter. 

“No, like holy shit, I was going to tell you I loved you that day too.” One of your hands traveled to rest on his cheekbone as you caressed his soft skin. “I didn’t want to give you more pressure as you started your career; that wouldn’t be fair. But some part of me has always wanted this to be real.”

“Really?” The corners of your mouth started to lift up as you nodded. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” And less than a second later, his mouth was on yours. Maybe it was a good thing you waited so long, because this was better than anything you could’ve imagined at eighteen. His hands found your waist, and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. 

When you finally pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Wow.” 

“You’re telling me.” You giggled at him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Guess you can tell the team we’re dating for real life now.”

He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. “For real life, eh?”

“For real life. As long as you’ll have me. ”

“Forever then, babe.” He winked, squeezing you tight. “Now let’s go join the family, yeah? Gotta beat my in-laws at Monopoly.”

His antics had you in laughter all the way down the stairs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was happiness because of him.

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