#it sounds mean to ask if she's dead but it also brought attention to Jane when Thor was otherwise preoccupied

[americancowgirl19]

Puppet Master

Summary: Riley Biers, king from the shadows.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vampire mob shit

Reader: Female Vampire Reader

Pairings: Riley Biers x Female Vampire Reader

Word Count: 2,310

A/n: @fyeahtaylorp

Masterlist

“And what do we have here?” Aro questions, tilting his head as Felix forces the vampire he, Demetri, Jane and Alec brought back from America.

“This is one of the two vampires responsible for the newborn army in the Cullen territory, Master.” Jane tells him. “The other was torn apart and burned.”

Aro steps forward and places his hands on the American vampire. He struggles but is unable to escape Felix’s grip. Aro reads his mind. He sees his life, his death and his ‘resurrection’. He pays particular attention to the part in his memories where the Cullen boy, Edward, told the guards about this boy being his daughters mate.

“I see,” Aro whispers, pulling from him. As far as he could tell this vampire had no ability other than the fact that he is easily manipulated. For millenniums he had hoped that when his daughter finds her match they would be as useful as she is. The fact that he’s one step away from being useless is a disappointment.

His first instinct is to kill Riley before his beloved daughter ever finds him. Then, perhaps, he could find a suitable match and have Chelsea bond them together. Unfortunately, for him, the plan is just a passing thought as not even two seconds later the woman in question struts into the room.

Riley instantly senses you. He struggles even more in Felix’s grip until he can see you. Even though you’re barely in the corner of his eye, it’s enough to settle him.

“I wasn’t informed a trial was in session,” You state, your voice sounding as smooth as honey. Riley craved to hear it once more.

“Ah, my darling,” Aro greets, smiling brightly at you. You return the smile, albeit a more reserved one, as you walk to his side. “They have just returned from their mission and brought back the one responsible for all the trouble,”

“I see that,” You mutter, your eyes not sparing your friends a single glance. You stare at the kneeling man as he stares back at you. “Have you come to a verdict?” You question. Aro’s calculating eyes stare are you.

“He created a newborn army, caused quite the eruption.” Aro tells you. Your head turns to him. It only takes one look for you to catch onto what was going on.

You love your father as he loves you. The two of you worked hard to build this coven. As much as you loved him, you weren’t naïve. You knew your father’s thirst for power. You knew he would do anything to gain an inch, even if it meant hurting the ones he claimed to love.

You also knew him like the back of your hand. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. Even if it had only been a few minutes since you walked into the room, you could already sense the tie binding you to this new vampire. A tie that Aro knew about. You assume, by the look in Aro’s eyes, that this vampire has no ability to please Aro.

Only vampires that were useful to Aro’s ultimate plan survived breaking the law. The only reason he’s still alive is because of the connecting tie to you. Still, you knew that wouldn’t have been enough to save him had you not arrived. 

“Well, I’ve been paying attention to the human news. I haven’t seen a single report about some demonic creature tearing apart a city in America. That means the vampire secret is still a secret.” You tell him. Aro’s lips tighten, his eyes trained on you.

You walk toward the kneeling vampire, unable to help yourself you comb your fingers through his hair enjoying how his eyes close briefly to enjoy the contact. You don’t stop walking, you pace around Felix as you continue with your second point.

“Has he had any dealings with the Children of the Moon?” You question. 

Aro shakes his head hesitantly. A pleased, yet cocky, grin lifts across your face.

 “He hasn’t exposed our secret to any human, unlike your precious Edward Cullen. He also hasn’t hunted in Volterra, that I’m certain of.” You mutter, knowing that your friends had brought him straight to the castle. “He hasn’t been a false witness to any other crime. Any immortal children?” You ask, your eyes glancing to your father as you pause by the twins.

“No,” Aro says lowly. You stare into your father’s eyes wonder if he wanted you to continue or if he was done pretending to be in charge. He remains silent prompting you to continue.

“Yes, he has caused some attention with his hunting habits,” You concede. You slowly move back toward Aro. “and yes his newborns made a mess of things. However, all the newborns are now gone and his hunting's in the future will be more... discrete,” You promise him.

“The Volturi do not offer second chances,” Caius growls from his throne. Your eyes roll as you turn toward him.

“Oh, do shut up Caius or I will have you punished for the town you drained in 1305,” You snapped, glaring at him. You and Caius spend a few moments staring each other down. A stare down you inevitably win. A small surge of pride runs through you when Caius averts his gaze.

Turning your gaze, you look back at your father. You continue to step closer to him until your just about toe-to-toe. You’re posture is relaxed but your gaze is challenging. You dare him to go against you.

“So, let me get this straight you want to kill him for a law that has been broken by everyone in this castle at least once?” You ask. “I just don’t see how that’s necessary,” You hum.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Aro states.

“Perhaps,” You hum condescendingly. “Felix, let him go.” You order. The brutish vampire releases Riley. You hold your hand out as you continue to stare at your father. Riley looks around him as he slowly stands up. Slowly, he takes your hand. “Though, is suppose to make up for his transgressions he can have a place on the guard,”

“A marvelous idea,” Aro nods. You hum, taking your gaze off of him. You send a smirk to Caius before pulling Riley out of the room.

“What’s going on?” Riley askes you quietly. You don’t answer.

You take him to your part of the castle and into your private quarters. It’s one of the largest rooms in the castle. It certainly impresses Riley.

“Make yourself at home,” You tell him, closing the door behind the pair of you. Riley turns to you after observing the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Riley asks.

“Before I tell you my story,” You say taking a seat by the table. “Why don’t you tell me yours? It’ll be easier that way,”

You waited for Riley to begin. You understood his hesitance. When he did begin, you soaked up every detail. You managed to bite back multiple growls at every mention of this bitch Victoria. You didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed that she’s already dead. You honestly would have liked the pleasure of killing her yourself.

“Well, I can tell you for certain that Edward was right. Victoria was using you. She wasn’t your mate.” Riley sits down in the adjacent seat.  “You weren’t anything more than a means to an end,” You tell him.

“What is this place?” He asks, looking at you. “What am I doing here?”

“This is Volterra, Italy. You are in the Volturi castle. We are the strongest and largest coven of vampires. The vampire world, like the humans, have laws. We’re the coven that enforces them.”

“And I broke your laws,” Riley states.

“Some minor ones,” You shrug. “You did nothing that nobody else in this coven has done,” You assure him. Riley frowns his eyebrows and you sigh. “Think of us as... the vampiric mob.” You smirk. With that explanation, everything starts to click for Riley. “Every vampire here serves a purpose because every vampire here - well, almost every vampire has some sort of ability. Like Edward with the mind reading and Jane with the torture,” Riley nods keeping up with you so far. “If you have value to the coven, you live. If you don’t, you die.”

“And what is my value?” Riley asks. You press your lips together.

“I’m your true mate,” You tell him not wanting to beat around the bushes. “You’re still alive simply because I want you to be.” Riley’s eyes widen a fraction. 

“You’re my mate?” Riley whispers. You nod, gently holding his face in your hand.

“And I have waited for you for over three thousand years,” You tell him.

“You’re-... What?” Riley asks. You grin laughing at his astonished look.

“I had lost faith that you would come,” You whisper to him. “I figured after all the lives I took and destroyed that I wouldn’t ever find you. I figured you had lived a human life and died long ago without me ever knowing. I never believed I was worthy of you but here you are,” By the end your sentence you had moved even closer to him. “And I will destroy this entire coven, my father included, before I allow one of them to harm you.” You promise.

“Three thousand years?” Riley whispers. You laugh kissing his cheek.

“I hope you’re into older women,” You whisper in his ear before leaning back in your seat. Riley’s quick to grab your hand before you can withdraw from him completely. You smile, interlocking your fingers with his.

“You’re father’s in this coven?” Riley suddenly asks.

“Aro,” You tell him. “He can read every thought in your mind with a single touch,” You explain. Riley instantly pictures him. “He would have had you killed had I not shown up,” You mention.

“Can you read minds too?” He asks. You smirk.

“My gift’s a little deadlier than mere mind reading,” You tell him. Riley raises his eyebrows obviously wanting to know. “I can kill everyone in this castle at the same time without lifting a finger or blinking an eye,”

“How?”

“Molecular combustion,” You tell him. “I can speed up the molecules in your body until you just burst. I can do it so fast you won’t feel a thing or I can draw it out,” Riley winces. “So, as you can see, if I want something, I get it,” You wink at him.

“What do you do here?”

“Destroy problematic vampires,” You answer shortly. “My father, along with Marcus and Caius, run the coven. I’m not into politics or power all that much. I have enough to make me happy. I have more power sitting in the background than I would on the front lines,”

“How so?”

“Fear,” You smirk. “Everyone here is afraid of me, with good reason. I’ve killed some of my fathers prized possessions more than once. It’s why the twins make such an effort to befriend me. I’ve also sped up Caius’s molecular structure enough to cause severe pain for a month straight after he pissed me off one time. They can’t control me. They can rule the coven all they wish but if I want something all I have to do is take it. It brings me great joy to watch the oh so powerful Kings of Volterra shudder in fear at the sight of me and stand by helplessly while I take what I want. Stomping on their ego is always satisfying.”

“So, even though I have no power, I will be apart of this coven?” Riley asks.

“Yes,” You nod. Riley slowly smirks.

“And since you truly hold all the power, does that make me the second most powerful vampire?” Riley arches his eyebrows. You chuckle winking at him.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Riley smirks broadly. “You spent the last year being that red headed whore’s puppet but now you’ll spend the rest of your immortal existence playing puppet master with the strongest coven, hell the entire vampiric race as your puppets” You tell him.

Riley imagines his future with this kind of power. You stand up and walk behind him. Your arms circle around him and rub his chest. Your head nuzzles into his neck, your teeth nipping at his marble skin.

“Anything you want, my love, I will be sure to give it to you,” You promise him.

“Your father is the king of Volterra... but if we control him then...” You hum biting his ear seductively. 

“You catch on quickly, my dear” You whisper to him. In a flash, you come in front of him and straddle his waist. His hands instantly grab your hips. “Rule from the shadows,” You tell him. “Wil Aro, Marcus and Caius as a front all opposers and enemies will target them instead of us,”

“Surely vampires know of your power, wouldn’t they be able to figure it out?” Riley asks.

“When I use my power, I never leave witnesses outside of this coven,” You tell him. “There are only three people outside of this coven that know of my power. Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, and Alice Cullen. Should word spread, I made sure they knew what I would do to those they love,” Riley smirks holding you close to him.

“Rule from the shadows, all the power we want, all the benefits, hardly any risk,” Riley mutters.

“A major step up from small town Forks, don’t you think?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Well, I certainly didn’t think this is where I’d end up,” Riley admits before getting handsy with you. You smirk, dragging your nails down his chest. “Certainly glad I did though,”

“Ditto,” You whisper, pressing you lips to his unable to hold back any longer.

#Riley Biers #Riley Biers x reader #Riley Biers x Female!Reader #Riley Biers x Y/n #Vampire!reader #vampire #Plus sized reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #Volturi #female!reader #Mate #soulmate

[thejudgingtrash]

Can you explain to me how Rachel was annoying in the series?

Well, I’ll try to keep myself short for this one (lol no, this took an hour to write). Also, let’s not forget that they’re all kids, but I’m basing this off from when I read the series as a fourteen year old because my opinions haven’t changed much (for better or for worse).

I’m not the biggest fan of Rachel. I have to admit that portrayals of her by Simi, Kit, Logan, Apollo and all the others helped to shape her into something cooler than what she had been in my foggy memories but I actually went back to take a look in the books (well, TTC + BOTL so far) to refreshen my mind about events that have happened.

Also, you should browse through @blackjacktheboss's blog as she’s a) hilarious and b) says whatever I say in like a single sentence lol. But your ask is about me and my opinions so here we go:

What I didn’t like about Rachel was that she’s rude and bold (DON’T GET ME WRONG, I love that in female characters!!!), but she doesn’t have Annabeth’s excuse of survival of the fittest (literally running off as a traumatized seven year old) and introducing us into the world of the Riordanverse.

Percy was on his way, had shit to deal with and Rachel pretty much interrupted him from the get-go and thought getting her answers was more important than letting Percy just rush forward. Yes, this is Rachel’s entrance into the series and the net Riordan threw into the sea, to make us little fish adapt to her. But it still didn’t sit right with me, probably because I would never interact that way.

I get why she did that, but it’s the way how she did it that’s just making me go ???

Even if I was seeing weird things, I wouldn’t set out to distract/interrupt someone who is incredibly busy to get my way. Rachel’s dick move seems like a Karen boomer type of thing to pull off, but guess that’s up to you.

If I were her, I’d either film/try to photograph the monsters via phone (if that’s possible) or internet stalk enough to find the other person (note: despite Riordan’s stupid rule of not being able to use phones, demigods still can use computers/the internet, I guess). Percy was national news like a year or two ago in the timeline, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find more stuff out about him, even in like 2008 or so. Let him have a spot on Perez Hilton's shitty gossip blog, for the OGs reading this.

Annabeth was used as a tool of exposition to introduce us to CHB, the demigod life and how things roll around there. She barged into Percy’s mission as a nuisance first but a necessity second in TLT.

However, in comparison to Rachel, Annabeth was transformed into a fully-fledged protagonist within a span of a chapter or two. Rachel needed another separate book after her first appearance, so we don’t just know Annabeth better, we know that she’s an important constant throughout the story as of Rachel seems… almost random? Is she truly necessary as a character?

This doesn’t come from a shipper perspective, this is coming from a character design perspective and adds to the feeling that the way she has been introduced to me as a reader just seems off.

Yes, BOTL makes sense with her as a reborn Ariadne, but technically Sally could’ve done the job as she’s a clear-sighted mortal as well lol. Then again, Sally is an adult, went to college, had a job, was unfortunately probably working it up with Paul, did the cha cha slide with him and had overall better shit to do.

Then Rachel as the oracle, which is just super weird in general. Wasn’t Apollo himself responsible for issuing prophecies in the OG myths? Or did he both, have the oracle of Delphi as his spokesperson and issue important stuff to Team Olympus? Am I mixing things up? I’m getting sidetracked, my bad.

Either way, this oracle gig might be the only time I’d say Rachel might be important in the future (badum tzz), but Riordan fumbled the bag in the follow ups series so there’s that. Did she even appear in HOO? Can’t remember and also don’t care.

Rachel is used as one out of three choices in regard to his love life that Percy can make. Calypso literally got introduced into BOTL and was admittedly Percy’s biggest what if… But the general gist doesn’t sit right with me. We have three possible routes with Percy and the others:

Rachel: somewhat normality in the mortal realm

Annabeth: the danger and thrill of the demigod life

Calypso: ambrosia and nectar. a hint of immortality

(On one hand, literally why but on the other hand, mad props for Percy who has literally three romantic leads in the same book.) I’d cancel one of them at least out and since Annabeth isn’t going anywhere, I’m taking Rachel. Sally could literally been Percy’s anchor to a normal mortal life as she had intended until it didn’t work out anymore when he became twelve and his monster alerting scent grew stronger.

Calypso and Annabeth would’ve been the perfect opposites where each of them had a strong case. The demigod life within the realms or mortal or the demigod life ascending to Olympus/immortality. Sounds cooler and is way simpler. Three people is way too much, this truly feels like a shonen anime harem thing and it’s defo not my cup of tea (and while some Annabeth sideships aren’t my thing (Lukabeth go cry in the corner, no one likes you, WTF, Connabeth you fugly), it’s super unfair that Annabeth solely has Percy (fuck off Luke) to rely on in regards of romantic endeavors).

Rachel almost feels redundant? The option to walk away from all of that… which isn’t really true as Rachel really tries to push and insert herself into the story the very first time we meet her? But that’s just me, I’m certain that others are saying they’d kill off Annabeth or kick Calypso (I mean yeah) into the curb.

Big ALSO:

Why does Percy need another white and uber-rich love interest?

I semi-joked on Dez’ post (@sawasawako) with this response about Annabeth needing to keep up with powerful Rachel, but the core still stands.

We already have an affluent Annabeth (granted, we don’t know exactly how the Chase’s riches are divided, whereas it’s clear that Rachel can just make anyone drop dead by saying who she is. Annabeth needed that weird lotus casino credit card to make that happen, so Miss Harvard Legacy doesn’t wield that Dare schmoney. Also don’t think Annabeth can just up papa’s money and go…? Idk).

Why do we need another person needing to upstage this?

Like Rachel has to triumph in regards to standard and prestige as if it were a badly written Jane Austen AU. For what reason…? Why not make Percy friends and acquaintances with someone who comes from a normal household for once, not super rich brats (Piper, Annabeth, Rachel, technically the Graces with their TV starlet mother amongst others).

Moreover…

Important question: why should Percy actually be impressed/attracted to that? He’s dirt poor and has been sent to (boarding) schools filled with stupid rich people since he’s been twelve, probably even younger than that. As if that’s the very first thing Percy would look out for or be wowed or something. He’s used to rich douchebags. I think he’s more surprised that someone used their money for his benefit for once and not to crash daddy’s new Mercedes again.

Like seriously… Rachel did that weird art project thing in BOTL with her covered in gold and posing like it’s a super normal thing to do? Even for rich snobbish kids standards? That sounds weird to me. I don’t know, maybe Riordan’s been streaming the new Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max on repeat and thought this girl is on fiyah (performed by Alicia Keys).

Rachel trying to separate herself from her money just comes off as super hypocritical when she’s using the very same funds to finance her lifestyle. I get it, trying to make amends and make a difference with the damage you have done but... your father still doesn't give a shit about the environment or YOU, sweetie. Kick him in the balls for once! Then you can go out about your art projects.

The concept of Percy having friends in the mortal realm is cool, but why does Rachel almost have to compete with Annabeth with her wealth and art stuff?

No seriously, the comparisons are constantly there, out and about. Roaming freely on the finest grass, needing to be feed delicious locally sourced carrots and stuff.

Annabeth is Athena’s kid. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, weaving, justice, warfare yada yada and arts and crafts. So definitely something which would affect Rachel, right (someone write that Athena messing with Rachel because she can AU and tag me please!)?

Annabeth wants to become an architect which translates to fancy building designer who is driving engineers like Leonardo Eugenio Valdez Cortes insane irl because the maths and physics don't work like that in the working field trust me I'm an engineer, which could/should be considered an art form.

They even shared some common ground while talking about architecture and design in BOTL!

Furthermore, they both share broken homes with absent parents (granted that all demigods go through that). Wealthy families at that as well. Shitty fathers that don’t care about their daughters well-being. Rachel however, is super powerful and influential in an unseen level in the mortal world. She isn’t like Matt Sloan (?) who truly messes up by destroying shit to get his father's attention, but she’s still in that circle and can easily demonstrate that. Making deals with her father and what not. We rarely see Annabeth doing that. Did y’all forget the fucking helicopter Rachel brought along in TLO?

Pan saying Rachel is just as important as her father has multiple meanings to me…

(Sidenote: I do think it’s hilarious that Annabeth is jealous/annoyed of Rachel that her remarks were she’s cute right and Percy went??? Or when Tyson said Rachel’s pretty? Or that time when Annabeth actually defended Luke and his weird behavior (because Kronos was slowly taking over, don’t forget that kids!), because f that rich artist nepotism kid that Rachel seems to be, right?)

Another note: Percy thinks Rachel is annoying in BOTL for a while and it took a while for him to admit that and he spent way more time being annoyed/jealous (for once, Lordy) at Luke for him to even notice lol.

I guess it’s really hard for me to exactly pinpoint what’s bothering me. I believe Rachel's persona just doesn’t seem to hit right, because it feels like a knock-off Annabeth who just simply isn’t a demigod, yet has two cool powers, but in even richer who still needs to be part of the story for exactly what reason?

The jumping around from the richest in the series to the poorest in the series is kinda bothering me as if the middle class doesn’t exist, like I’ve stated earlier. Why didn’t Riordan mix it up with Rachel, giving her more nuance the minute they met, not towards the end? Have her be Percy’s platonic friend from the get go. No weird oh wait she is kinda cute in the middle bullshit.

This kinda drifted more into a Perachel vs Percabeth essay, which really wasn’t my intention. Don’t worry kids, I’m criticizing Annabeth (and her stans) enough already.

And I do think that others in the fandom have softened my views on Rachel as a person like I’ve stated in the beginning. So friendship!Perachel is popping! But I do think that there are some valid points that I’ve made.

Also not gonna lie, Rachel issuing the new prophecy in TLO kinda dampened the end of PJO series but that’s more Riordan’s fault than hers.

TLDR: I’m just not a huge fan of this overbearing, uber-rich, excessively flaunting being that Rachel sometimes displays. She’s flawed, she’s broken at times, has a semi-interesting background story (although it has been done over and over again throughout the series and should be changed up for once) which is great, but it is still annoying.

We don’t need an anti-Annabeth who feels like a weird caricature of the real Annabeth.

Also if this seems super incoherent, repetitive, or whatever, I'm sorry, massive headaches + mental health going down the goo lagoon does this to ya, I hope I made somewhat sense!

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo Meta #percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #ttc #botl #tlo

[orwocolor]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Five

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Nighmares

Summary: Your friend is there for you when you need him, and maybe you’re starting to feel something more.

Author’s Note: IT FEELS GREAT TO BE BACK!!! Comments and reblogs are always very appreciated :) Check my masterlist to read the previous chapters. Dedicated to my sweetie @justgwilym.

“Y/N! I’m back!” a shout comes from the hall and a loud bang of the door closing shut announces Gwil’s return.

You struggle to get to your feet but the moment your weight shifts to your injured ankle, you hiss through gritted teeth. There is not much left to do but to remain on the couch, nonchalantly sprawled out as if the position you’ve gotten into was intended.

“Erm, Y/N?” Gwil makes a move to the kitchen when he stops dead in his tracks as he spots you lying on the couch, your legs swung over the armrest in an awkward angle.

“Did you get the ice cream?” you ask innocently to divert his attention from the obvious mishap you’ve managed to cause in his 10-minute-long absence.

His brows furrow and he licks his lips before he responds. “Yes, I did. Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard about the new yoga position?” The whole situation is so bizarre, you can’t prevent a small giggle from escaping you. “Lying sideways on a couch with one arm squashed between your body and the cushion, and with your legs hanging over the armrest in a way to successfully feel the blood in your legs draining away so that you’re sure you’re gonna have pins and needles in them afterwards for hours, well… That’s the good stuff right there, man.” Your eyes sparkle with glee and, to continue in your blatant lie, you mean to throw your hair over your shoulder as if to imply there’s no room for arguing and that the conversation is over, but as you jerk your head, instead of your hair flawlessly flying around your face in a perfect way, it gets stuck underneath your shoulder and you smack your head against a throw pillow.

Despite your burst of giggles being muffled by the pillow, your laughter is evident in the way your body uncontrollably shakes on the coach.

Gwilym is laughing now too and after quickly discarding the grocery bags at the kitchen island, he rushes to your side. With one of his strong arms supporting your back and his warm fingers taking a hold of your hand, he helps you stand up, an occasional giggle escaping either his or your lips, and sets you down again. He takes a seat right next to you and throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows arched in question and a glint of amusement still present in his blue eyes.

You let your gaze rest on his face for a moment before you spit out the truth.

“Okay, fine. I just wanted to get us some popcorn and I couldn’t recall where exactly I left it the last time the girls were over for a movie night. So, I figured I might as well find it myself. But I couldn’t find the bloody crutches…” you trail off and throw your arms in a dismissive gesture.

“Although I bet the picture of you jumping on one foot just to promptly crash down on the sofa must have been hilarious,” he starts and nudges you with his shoulder, “you should have waited for me, I’m sure I would be able to find the popcorn myself,” he continues softly and brushes a strand of your hair that has fallen to your eyes.

“Well, you were already getting the ice cream I’d sent you for, so.” You shrug and shake your head. “I guess,” you pause and look around your living room, which is uncharacteristically tidied up, the result of Gwilym’s frequent visits he’s been paying you every day since the accident. Your life hasn’t been the same since he moved next door, has it? “Nevermind.” You give him a smile, but it’s not quite reaching your eyes. “What are we having for dinner?” you ask instead, hoping he’ll drop the previous subject.

That earns you a wide grin from Gwil and you release a sigh of relief. He promptly stands up to rummage through the bags he’s brought with him; the rustle of his socks against the carpet has become a familiar sound by now.

“Ta da!” He turns around to reveal two packages of frozen vegetables.

“Really?” You can’t believe this man. “Really?” you echo with disbelief seeping to your voice.

“What?” he tries defensively. “Ever since our journey to the hospital, I’ve been craving some good ol’ risotto. And since you didn’t let me cook it for you that night from our makeshift ice-packages, I had to go and buy new ones.” He moves to the kitchen area and starts storing various items into their designated places. God, a week in your kitchen and he already knows what needs to be put where, probably orienting there much better than you do.

“The vegetable had been out of the freezer for several hours so by the time we got back, it had turned into a mush and you know it,” you shout at him to the kitchen, your voice louder so as to howl down the kitchen cabinets being open and closed again.

Gwilym’s head peers over the kitchen island.

“Spoilsport.”

“I’ve still got one hand that’s alright so don’t be surprised when a pillow lands on your head,” you say matter-of-factly but reach for remote control to turn on the telly.

“I doubt that, I know your aim,” he answers after a minute, busying himself with the meal preparations.

Oh, really? Well, in that case…

You grab one of the cushions and toss it in his direction, but it plops down on the kitchen tiles, a good six feet away from him. Gwil barks out a laugh and you groan in defeat, but when he bends down to lift the pillow from the floor and get even with you, it’s your turn to laugh out loud when the pillow almost knocks down a rubber tree standing in the opposite corner of the room.

“I’m making dinner, okay, I’m distracted!” he explains, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“And I’m injured,” you retort in the same manner.

“Peace?” he asks softly and arches his eyebrows.

“Peace,” you agree, smiling, and let him get back to cooking dinner for you.

Mindlessly flicking through the channels, you watch Gwil from the corner of your eye as he turns on the stove and tosses the vegetable into a frying pan, the water with rice already bubbling in the background.

You get lost in your thoughts as they swirl in your mind with pictures of the last couple of days.

Gwilym’s kept his promise and has been coming over to your place practically every day. Apart from cooking and keeping your flat clean and tidy, which is something you will be forever grateful for because with both of those chores you just can’t be particularly bothered even when your ankle isn’t protesting with every little movement, Gwilym has been most of all keeping you company. Jane and Charlotte have popped by every now and then to help you with showering (the bloody tube, why not just install a shower stall?) or to spend the movie night at yours on one occasion, for which Gwil has always retired to his own apartment, not meaning to intrude on your tradition.

One night, he also invited Ben to come over, of course with your permission, and all three of you played several board games. You’ve tried to repay Gwil’s care by helping him run his lines for his auditions. At first, you were absolutely awful, giggling and feeling warmth spreading across your cheeks, but soon enough you got the hang of it and managed to read the lines with pretended professionalism.

You and Gwil have also started watching several TV shows, especially the cooking and home design ones, which were the best to turn your brains off to (and occasionally doze off to) in the late evenings. Being the gentleman he is, Gwil refused to join you in your bed at first and watched the screen of your laptop form the chair snuggled in the corner of your bedroom. But eventually, he yielded to your pleading eyes and stubborn refusal to press play until he stopped being so silly. Nonetheless, he has always made sure to lie carefully on the covers of your bed even though you were tucked in so that there has remained a duvet between your bodies. Every now and then he fussed for a minute with pillows that were supporting your foot to make sure that your ankle remained elevated just to give you a sheepish smile when he noticed you were watching him with amusement.

You’re smiling now too at the picture of his lovely eyes adorned with small wrinkles in the outer corners. Holding the TV remote still in your hand, you realise you can’t find anything of interest and so you turn the TV off again.

Besides, the dinner is almost ready based on the delicious smell.

~

“So, who was it?” Jane asks matter-of-factly as she stretches her arms for you to lean on.

“That was Gwil.” Grabbing her forearms, you carefully swing your injured leg over the bathtub rim. “I must have mentioned him,” you add quickly when Jane cocks her perfectly shaped eyebrow. You avoid the eye-contact, suddenly focused on making sure the knot on the towel wrapped around your torso is tied properly.

“No, you haven’t. All you said was that your neighbour had been taking care of you.” Slinking your arm around her shoulders, you shift your weight and get yourself out of the bathtub completely. You pull your face at the odd sensation in your ankle, the pain you have been gradually becoming used to. “I only assumed you were talking about Mrs Thompson from 3A. You’re not the type to befriend your neighbours so eagerly.”

You let the last remark slip and berate yourself inwardly for not telling Jane the identity of your nurse/cleaner/companion sooner. Now it looks like you have kept it from her because there was a reason to. Which there was not. Nuh-uh.

You could have been spared of this conversation, had they not bumped into each other at your door as Jane was letting herself in and Gwil was leaving for his own flat. If only you hadn’t been so selfish, happy to be in his company, and would have let him go a few minutes sooner.

“So, who is he?” Jane presses and takes another towel from a nearby handle to wrap it around your shoulders.

No longer having the strength to keep upright, you perch yourself on the bathtub edge, the cold porcelain causing goose bumps on your thighs. “I already told you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look, he’s just a friend, okay?” you finally give up. “He’s helping me with cooking and tidying up and overall, he’s just keeping me company. He’s currently looking for a job, which means that when he’s not auditioning for a role, he’s usually home anyway, so why not hang out together? So yes, he’s my friend.”

“I’m your friend, too, you know?” Jane offers.

“But you’ve got a full-time job and live several bus and tube stops away, not next door. It’s just a matter of proximity.”

“Aaand, what kind of proximity are we talking about here?” Jane’s eyes glint mischievously, and you spray her with droplets of water that have been clinging to your fingers. “Fine, fine,” she laughs and before handing you your bathrobe, she wipes her slightly damp face into it, which earns her a displeased groan from you.

“Okay, I’ll drop it,” she continues once she settles you on the coach, “but you can bet I’m telling Charlotte.”

You roll your eyes, but do not argue. The moment Jane makes up her mind, there’s not much you can do about it.

“Speaking of Charlotte, anything new about her birthday party?”

“I thought you would never ask!” Her eyes sparkle and she pulls out a thick notebook from her purse. “I’ve got so many ideas. Okay, hear me out. Glitter.”

“No,” you laugh out loud.

“Come on!”

“No, I’ve got the veto and I’m exercising it right now.”

“Urgh, fine.” She turns several pages. No way the idea revolving around glitter has been so elaborated.  

“A movie night party?”

“We all have had a movie-themed birthday party. And I think Charlotte’s had two already.”

“Okay, not a movie night.” She crosses out the line in her notepad and is leafing through it some more.

“Jungle.”

“Jungle?”

“Yeah, jungle. Remember, when she had visited the Panama islands, she just couldn’t stop gushing over it. Her flat is already filled with hundreds of plants so as for the decoration, we don’t have to do much. Just a couple of balloons, fruity drinks and sweets, maybe we can set the thermostat to a higher temperature. And if we don’t manage to clean it up there in time, we can say it’s just part of the décor, right?”

“I kinda like it,” you admit with a smile and Jane’s winning grin seals the deal. “Yeah, I can imagine it. Yellow and dark green balloons, some more plants, fruity drinks. I’m on board.”

“Great! And it’s not going to be so expensive either, which is more than appreciated. By the way, how are you doing financially? Is there anything I can do in this respect?”

“No, there’s no need, thank you,” you wave her off. “The sick leave is not so bad, and I’ve still got the money my grandpa left me.”

“Wait, you’ve still got that?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t figure out what to spend it on. I’ve got everything I need; you see. But I guess it’s losing its worth as time goes by. I should invest it rather sooner than later.”

“Sounds right to me.” She gives it some thought. “Oh, maybe we could throw a massive birthday party for Charlotte!”

“Look, I love you both, but no,” you giggle.

“It was worth a try,” she chirps. “We’ll plan the details next time I come around to help you shower?”

“Actually, I’m getting much better with the crunches; the wrist has almost healed. So next time, it’s gonna be without the striptease for free for you, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, dang it, you’ll rob me of the highlight of my week.”

~

You look up from your laptop screen and give Gwil a questioning look as he enters your bedroom, dragging his bag and jacket behind him. He simply drops them on the floor and crashes down next to you. Promptly closing his eyes and releasing a deep sigh, he goes motionless.

“That bad?” you ask after a few seconds of silence.

“The worst,” he groans and drags his hand down his face.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back and rub your palm against his shoulder. He peers with one eye over his splayed hand at you and the line between his brows deepens.

“It was awful,” he huffs and proceeds to stare at the ceiling as his fingers remain on his jaw.

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask and place your laptop on the floor before you twist on your side and give Gwil your complete attention.

"Yes,” he responds eventually. “Or no. Yes. I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ve got time, and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too.”

You mean to give him a reassuring hug but because of your position on the bed, it ends up looking as if you were cuddling up to him. Once you realise your mistake, you shuffle a few inches back. Your palm, however, warm and reassuring, remains on Gwil’s chest.

“It was awful,” he echoes and turns his head to look into your eyes. “Ben and I had been waiting ages for the casting director to show up and when he did, he wasn’t ready at all, kept calling me ‘Will’, yelled at me for not reading my lines when it actually wasn’t my cue, overall dismissed my approach to the character and then he just waved me off. This time, he didn’t even bother to tell me I would be hearing from them soon.”

Your thumb starts drawing soothing circles on Gwilym’s chest as any words of reassurance die in your throat.

“I’d been nervous about that audition the whole day and for what reason?”

“Well,” you try, sure that nothing you will just say can elevate his mood. You have found out a few days ago, that the best cure for Gwil’s brooding isa  small glass of something stronger and good night sleep. But you could not exactly stay silent. “If it was really the worst, if you really reached the deep, deep bottom, then it can only get better, right?” You nudge him gently and give him a small smile which he reciprocates.

“Right,” he sighs, and his gaze falls again.

“Shall I get out the tumblers?”

“Not really,” he pauses and ponders over it. “Can we just watch something?”

“Sure!” you agree eagerly and dive down to retrieve your laptop. Quickly searching for a festive episode of Bake Off, you place the laptop on your thighs, rotating it so that Gwil can see, and after a few minutes of making up your mind, you press yourself to Gwil’s side. Although you are aware that it is going to take some time for the clouds on his brows to evaporate, a warm touch might help at least a bit.

After the first Bake Off challenge, Gwil snakes his arms beneath you and wraps it around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. And several minutes later, he feels exhaustion creeping up at him, the stressful events of the day finally taking their toll. He tries to fight the sleep, but he knows it is a losing battle.

~

A heavy weight of darkness falls on your chest and pins you down. You make an attempt to take a deep breath, but the invisible rock crashes you down. Pushing your arms upwards, you try to fight the suffocating darkness, but your palms are met with cold emptiness. Your mouth falls open and a strangled whimper escapes you, then another, until you’re screaming at the top your lungs despite making no sound at all. Your blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding loudly is cut through with a voice calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You jerk yourself to sit upright in your bed, gasping for breath with eyes wide open. You pull a face at the pain shooting in your wrist and ankle.

A pair of warm arms wrap around your torso, fingers gently stroke your sides and every slow caress wipes the god-awful nightmare far away.

“You’re good, everything is alright, you’re not alone, I’m here,” Gwil keeps muttering into your hair as he presses you to his side, his embrace firm, letting you know that everything he says is true. Taking a deep breath, you burrow your head into the crook of his neck. There are tears in the corner of your eyes but you blink them away and if one or two teardrops fall down your cheeks, they disappear on Gwil’s t-shirt, turning the material one shade darker, which no one can see anyway in the blackness-filled bedroom.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper almost inaudibly against Gwilym’s chest once you calm down and at first, you’re not even sure whether he has heard you.

After a beat of silence, you hear the soft murmur of his voice. “Oh, darling, you have nothing to apologise for. What do you need? A glass of water? Maybe I should turn on the lights?”

“No, no, just –” you take a shaking breath, “just don’t go,” you breathe out eventually.

“Never,” he says and plants a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

~

Next morning, a ray of sunshine tickles your nose. You make a face, your eyes squeezing and nose scrunching up, and shuffle further away from the window to find retreat in a shadow. You slowly open your eyes and feel the dryness in your throat. Last night surges forward in your thoughts and you are filled with mixed feelings. Loneliness, shame, connection, relief, content.

Rolling over, you almost lie down on Gwilym’s hand, his arm stretched out before him, crossing the gap between your bodies, as soft snores leave his mouth every few seconds. His sleeping state allows you to take a proper look at his face. His piercing dark blue eyes are usually those that capture your attention but now when they are hidden behind the eyelids, you get the opportunity to inspect his face more carefully. Your eyes follow the lines of his prominent nose and cheekbones, spotting the birthmark on his right cheek, and fall on his pink lips, which are slightly open in his sleep. You have to smile; he looks utterly adorable. And you are positively grinning when he hums and smacks his lips.

“Good morning,” you whisper softly in case he has not woken up yet. But an almost inaudible groan confirms your suspicion.

He blinks away his sleep and gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before his gaze falls on your face.

“Good morning,” he replies and brings his outstretched arm towards you to let his hand rub gently your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you admit truthfully and give him a smile. Meanwhile, your hand clasps over his. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he says and looks up at you through his eyelashes.

You only nod but remain silent as you relish in the peaceful moment. None of you dares to move, certain that once you do so, the spell under which you both are will break. But at the same time, you long to bring him closer to you, to cross the invisible wall that is between you, the wall built from unspoken truths and confessions. However, you also realise how precarious it is to give in to that thought. The analogy of playing with fire comes to your mind but you frown inwardly, not entirely certain it fits. No, you feel the pull and you are sure so does he, the intangible power bringing you to one another. You picture yourself as a child playing with magnets and holding them in each hand to feel them inching closer. But both remain in safe vicinity so as not to jump in your hands and attach to each other. If that happens, you know there is no going back, the force too strong to allow them to let go on their own accord.

“Jane was here yesterday,” you whisper eventually, your head going around with everything that goes on in your mind.

“Yeah?” Gwilym’s eyes flick to yours.

“Yeah. We’re going to organise a jungle-themed party for Charlotte.”

“Nice,” he says appreciatively and gives you a smile. “You still wanna bake that cake? I think we could replace blueberries and raspberries with pineapple, kiwi, and maybe mango?”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you squeeze his hand that you still hold in yours. “I would love that.”

~ 

Taglist: @lv7867, @spacedustmazzello, @queenwouldyourathers, @im-an-adult-ish, @fairestkillerqueenofall, @supernaturalee, @queenlover05, @geek-and-proud, @chlobo6​, @mrsmazzello​, @timeandpixiedust​, @kerouacsroad​, @gwilsmainhoe​

#gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee fic #multichapter #fluff #vee writes #*mine

[mcheang]

Lila the evil witch

Inspired by the Disney evil sorceresses: Mother Gothel, Ursula, the Evil Queen...what if Lila was an illusionist...but what was she after? The Disney villains were literally after a physical component: hair, voice, heart... the exception was Queen La of the Leopardman, she wanted Jane’s Husband

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK STORY...involving religion and exorcism.

The Daughter of Mrs Rossi was dead.

Inhabiting her youthful skin was an evil witch’s spirit named Lila. She even legally changed the name of the diplomat’s Daughter.

In the past; Lila had posed as a sweet Wiccan in an American village, living humbly. But she wanted more! (Inspired by Sarah Ravencroft from Scooby-Doo)

Lila was in truth a witch, and she longed to have the materialistic desires that everyone else desired. She was just willing to risk her soul in the process.

Lila cast love spells on the richest boy, causing him to obsess over her. She stole the beauty of the fairest maidens in the land to heighten her own. And those that opposed her soon found themselves sick.

It was the second issue that got the reverend concerned. His own daughter had suddenly gone from pretty to having burned skin.

He prayed in the Church for wisdom and guidance.

And perhaps it truly was holy intervention that caused a hypnotizing ray of moonlight to lead the reverend into the woods where he found Lila the Witch preparing a bath in a sunken pit of dark liquid. (Inspired from the book Another Faust where Belle took a painful chemical bath to maintain her beauty and allure.)

It was a repulsive bath. There was nothing so horrifying as the smell of blood, but there were crushed butterfly wings floating on it.

The reverend had seen enough. Lila was no innocent Wiccan; but a witch!

He wanted to expose her right there and then, but Lila had the male youth population on her side and was engaged to a very wealthy lad.

The reverend left the witch to her evil bath salts without alarming her to his presence.

So, the reverend gathered trusted adults for a secret plot to drive out the witch to the community.

He waited till the next moonlit night to lead them to the sunken pit and there they exposed Lila as a witch.

Lila snarled at them and raced out, her stinking naked body painted red. The men raced after her, determined not to let the evil escape.

They succeeded when one of their own threw a pitchfork at her torso. Lila lay dying in agony.

The villagers gathered around her in grim triumph.

But Lila had the last laugh, while she mocked them about their daughters’ disfigurements, she secretly cast a spell so her soul would not leave the earth. She knew hell awaited her for her crimes.

But being a disembodied soul is no picnic. And yet Lila knew currently, the judge’s Daughter was wasting away in bed from her curses.

Lila waited until the girl’s soul had passed on, before moving in on the still warm body.

When the judge returned from the witch hunt, he was jubilant that his Daughter had been cured.

Lila played her role carefully, lest she arouse suspicion again. She waited years before deciding to move to another town. By this time, Lila’s stolen body was middle-aged. She kept her eyes out for young blood.

And so it went on, Lila looked for a body with a wonderful lifestyle for her to steal. With her acting skills, it was a breeze. The few who noticed were silenced.

Of course, there were the other magical folk who realized what she was. The goody kind sought to exorcise her. They never succeeded.

One day, she came across a diplomat’s Daughter. She had a good life. A sufficient allowance, fabulous travels around the world, and little parent monitoring. She became Lila’s next victim.

After a couple of countries later, she legally changed her name.

Then Mrs Rossi announced they were moving to Paris. Lila initially had some concerns. The Miraculous were ancient relics lost to time. But given Hawkmoth’s failures and the heroes’ inexperience, Lila suspected they were not well versed in identifying magical creatures.

She studied her talented new class, looking for possible new victims. Living a life of travel was fun and all, but it wasn’t fully luxurious.

Obviously those with artistic talent like Marinette, Nathaniël and Kitty Section were out.

To be fair, the only viable candidate was Chloe. The girl was served hand and foot and got to be mean! That sounded ideal to Lila.

But, with Hawkmoth around, Lila suspected the mayor would get akumatized trying to cure her. Or even Sabrina.

Ugh, she’ll have to wait till he is busted then. What a bummer. Who knows how long that will take?

In the meantime, Lila might as well have some fun. Her gullible classmates were her new servants. But Adrien and Marinette kept their distance.

You see, upon first sight, the kwamis saw her for what she really was and warned their holders to be cautious. Thankfully they were strong enough to counter whatever magic tricks Lila could come up with.

Lila didn’t do that though, she relied on her lying talents.

As a result, Marinette never got the chance to spy on Adrien once Tikki strongly told her to not raise the liar’s suspicions.

Also, Plagg thoroughly was alarmed by this Lila girl and warned Adrien to keep his distance while they were separated in the library, and don’t let her take anything that belonged to him. As a result, the book is safe. And Lila doesn’t have a chance to be akumatized.

Ladybug and Chat Noir discussed how to exorcise her. It would take joint efforts but the original soul inhabiting Lila’s body was gone. After the exorcisement, the body would be a corpse.

The action itself was simple, Lila was physically no match for them. All Ladybug had to wind her magical yo-yo string around her and let its magic nullify Lila’s own. (Tikki’s magic can’t do that for Nooroo’s akumas) then all Chat had to do was literally push her with his baton.

Plagg’s power would destroy whatever was anchoring Lila’s soul and force her out.

But how to go about it? In public? In private? How do they convince Mrs Rossi her real Daughter is dead and an evil spirit now possesses her body?

No, the real daughter of Mrs Rossi deserves to be given closure. Her Mother should be mourning for her real daughter, not the Lila ghost!

Ladybug and Chat Noir brought in Alya’s help for this, as well as tell her Ladybug is so not BFFs with Lila!

Lucky charm: an actual recent video of the real Miss Rossi at the zoo for her birthday. Apparently she has an intense fear of snakes.

Ladybug and Chat Noir visit Mrs Rossi at work and ask to speak with her in private. Mrs Rossi is of course, disbelieving, until Ladybug suggests they use the snake test. If Lila acts as Mrs Rossi expects her to, they won’t perform exorcism. But if she does not, Mrs Rossi will let them go through with it.

Mrs Rossi is still skeptical about this bargain before Ladybug points out that with all the akumas and superpowers, how can she doubt what was happening? Even New York has superheroes!

Mrs Rossi admits she doesn’t want to face the truth that her Daughter has been dead all this time and she never even noticed.

Chat consoles her that she can at least give her real Daughter justice.

Alya and Marinette organize a class field trip to the zoo.

Mrs Rossi disguises herself as a zoo attendant.

Lila is paired with Alya to study the snake exhibit. Lila shows no apprehension whatsoever.

At the dim, empty snake exhibit, Ladybug and Chat Noir act. Lila shrieks and demands to know their reason behind this. She pleads for Alya to intervene but Alya just stands back, with the zoo attendant. Both watching silently as Chat Noir gently pushes her with his baton.

Lila’s body collapses. And a visible spirit manifests, still trapped by the yo-yo.

The spirit of Lila the witch is no longer youthful, and they finally see what her real form looks like. An ancient, withered hag snarling and screeching in hatred and agony.

Mrs Rossi condemns Lila for killing her Daughter.

Lila spits at her. “What can I say? A Daughter with little to none parental attention? She was such easy bait! I’ve been here for years and you never noticed.”

Mrs Rossi flinched at the accusation.

Alya stepped forward. “And what about Marinette? Were you going to target her too?”

Lila laughed. “I target those with envy-inducing lifestyles. Marinette may have the connections but she’s no Chloe. I was waiting till Hawkmoth was defeated before I took care of her. Marinette though, was open game. I don’t tolerate people who call me a liar.”

Chat: you are a liar.

Lila glares hatefully at the heroes. “You won’t win. I’ll be back, and when I do, I’ll kill everyone you love.”

Chat: yeah, I don’t think so.

He plunges his baton through her spirit, into the earth. The baton channels the evil spirit away from the earth. In the afterlife, there are 2 paths. Lila obviously has shown no repentance...her destination is obvious.

Back at the zoo, Mrs Rossi weeps for her Daughter. The heroes assure her that Lila is gone and won’t return. Alya is preparing to tell her class the news. They decided to keep this matter private. Mrs Rossi isn’t ready for this to be public.

The fake story: Lila suffered a sudden stroke.

The class wants to hold a funeral but Mrs Rossi insists on going back home immediately. She can’t stand the thought of the class mourning for that horrible ghost. They never knew her real Daughter.

Oh, and btw, Plagg finally convinced Adrien to take pictures of the book and send the information to the Guardian.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #lila gets exposed #lila is exposed #volpina au #lila is a witch

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 19

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: i keep playing this game called “if i add this song to the playlist will it spoil the ending” and it has become my new favourite game. sorry that it took me this long to post, it’s been very hot in cambridge which always gets me in a right mood (i hate summer and heat) so i’ve been putting my frustration into finishing my exams. had to take a break because if i have to talk about serotonin once more, my only serotonin left will leave my system 😂

hope you enjoy this chapter xx

Next Chapter >>

(not my gif, credit to creator)

James maintained a tight grip on her as the Charon took them back to his chambers in the Asphodel Meadows. She was silent and still almost like a statue, her eyes taking in as they went away from the Tartarus to the Elysium and finally to the Meadows. Y/N wondered why the King of the Underworld had decided to make his home in such a bleak place. The sounds were always of torture and mumbled cries, the souls were people who, in Y/N’s mind at least, deserved to be somewhere else, and were always begging to be taken out of their misery. It wasn’t a pretty place but his home wasn’t also she’d call a home of a King much less a god. The ceilings were high and the walls were painted in light and dark tones of grey with minimalistic furniture. It was a far cry from what her mother would describe when speaking about deities’ residences. However, James seemed to be a simple man, at least that’s how he showed himself before she got dragged way under. 

     - Do you want me to ask the servants to draw you a warm bath? Maybe some flower petals? - James questioned, his hand coming up to her face to push some hair away from her sight. - Do you wanna eat anything? Just tell me what you wanna eat and I’ll make sur ...

     - Did you hurt Anne? - Y/N was probably the only person in the Underworld who could interrupt James without having the furies being released on them immediately. He daren’t look at her, knowing exactly the look she was probably giving him, the type of look that would make him want to carry the world on his shoulders until she was happy. 

    - I did not hurt Anne. 

    - Did you turn her into any of the following. - she raised her fingers as if she were mentally counting. - A plant, an animal, some sort of plant-animal, cursed her, made her grow serpent hair ...

    - I didn’t do anything, Y/N. - he held onto her hands before she could list other ways gods had punished mortals. He did wanted to punish Anne, there hadn’t been anyone who deserved more to have the furies released upon them but he knew that if he did such thing, she would probably try and release the furies on him too. - However, next time something like that occurs I will punish them. I’m the God of the Underworld and I won’t undermine that. 

    - That’s fair. - Y/N scratched the back of her neck. She understood there was a side to him that she was yet to discover, the side of him that was a god, a ruler, but she still wanted to believe that he was her Bucky. - Shouldn’t I get back to Hecate and the other maidens?

    - If you want. - he tried to maintain a calm facade but inside he was puzzling himself over if his words had maybe scared her and she would rather be with Hecate than to be with him. - You’re free to do as you may. I just thought you’d want to stay with me.

There was a tinge of disappointment and uneasiness in his features, tightened expression as he managed not to show her how upset he felt that she did not want to be near him. Maybe it was too much for her to handle, after all up until a few hours ago she was sure she was dating a CEO and now she was dating the God of the Dead. 

Noticing his, Y/N slowly raised her hands to rest against his cheek, her mere touch raising feelings of warmth in him.

   - Sounds like you want me to stay. - there it was, her little playful smirk. James wanted to roll his eyes at her, but he couldn’t help but feel some sort of way whenever she outsmarted him.

   - I always want you to stay, Y/N. - of course he wanted her to stay. He had to endure the first moments of their relationship constantly counting the hours and looking at the sky so he wouldn’t be caught and now she was here. Sure, she was here due to uncertain circumstances, but she was still here. - But if you wanna go back to the Elysium, I would understand. 

   - I just don’t want to cause you any trouble. - Y/N slightly turned her head to the side, embarrassment creeping into her soft features.

   - Why would you cause me any trouble, sweetness? - he took the hand that was craddling his face into his own hands, sensing something wrong. - Homesick? 

   - It’s just ... considering that I’m supposed to be one of Hecate’s maidens, wouldn’t people look down on you if they saw you with me?

   - Y/N. - he sighed. - Your parents were Greek historians, right? 

   - Yeah.

   - So tell me, what’s the worse thing a god has ever done? - that as a funny question for Y/N. There were lots of myths that made her sick to her stomach just hearing about it and other myths that would make her want to climb to Mount Olympus herself and punch some gods. The short answer was, there is no short answer. 

    - Do you want it in alphabetical order? - she joked. 

    - What do you think it’s the worse offence? 

    - Well, if you asked me what I think was the worse thing ever done by a god I’d say it was what Poseidon and Athena did to Medusa.

    - Were their reputations ruined even after what they did?

    - No.

    - Then I won’t get in trouble for associating with one of Hecate’s maidens. 

    - Yeah but gods also turn into a wide variety of animals to go and do less than savoury things with mortals.

    - Less than savoury things? - he smirked. - Last time I checked you were one of Hecate’s maidens not Artemis’. 

    - Cut it off. - she playfully pushed his chest away. Bucky just rolled his eyes at her behaviour, wrapping his arms around her waist, carefully moving her closer to him afraid she might’ve gotten hurt at the Tartarus. 

   - Come, let’s get some food in you. - he guided her through his place. She wondered why it was so minimalistic and why is it in the Asphodel Meadows of all places. Maybe he disliked to be surrounded by all the fauna and flora of the Elysium or maybe Hecate didn’t allow him near it. Nevertheless, it was an odd place and an oddly unremarkable home, at least for that of a King. 

He left her waiting in his dinning hall, allowing her time to inspect it. There was nothing much but a dinning table surrounded by various book shelves. The books were in Greek for what she could muster but what caught her attention were a few picture frames by a half empty unit of the shelf. Y/N’s hands reached for the first one, a sepia coloured photo of Bucky and a blonde man she swore she’d seen before. His hair was much shorter and shabbier with a child like grin, arms around the blonde guy who looked much more polished. Her mind was telling her she had seen this picture before, she just couldn’t point it.

The other frame contained the photo of a couple dressed in hellenic clothing adorned by golden accessories. The man was standing tall, hand on the woman’s shoulder whose hair rivalled the gold colour of the pins in her head and stood sat on a porcelain chair. The look in the woman’s eyes was serene yet controlling, almost like a storm brewing over calm seas. On both their heads sat adorned jewelled crowns and the man held the same staff James had been holding back in the Tartarus.

   - Y/N? - his voice suddenly echoing through the silent made her drop the face on the carpeted floors, a flush creeping through the apples of her cheeks as she herself dropped to the floor to grab it and put it back in its due place. - What are you doing? 

   - I was just looking at your photos. - she put her hands behind her back, eyes lowered to the ground like a child who had just been scolded. Bucky walked over to where she was standing, looking at the frame she had put back. - Are they your parents? 

   - No, sweetness. - he chuckled. - That’s Hades and Persephone, well, the original ones. I find you must have memory of those who came before you. 

   - She’s beautiful. I mean, I always thought Persephone had to be beautiful, after all it was said her undying beauty was what made Hades kidnap her. 

   - Hades didn’t kidnap her. - Bucky always forgot that mortals still fully believed the myth brought back to light by the Greek. Honestly, it was a disgrace that no Underworld God had yet to chance the misconception. 

   - Yes, he did. That’s why Demeter stopped doing her job.

   - Sweetness, do you seriously think someone whose name means Bringer of Death could stay in the Underworld against her will?

   - What do you suggest then? - she crossed her arms against her ripped tunic, all knowing smirk on her face. 

   - I don’t know if I should tell you now. - Y/N huffed, lips coming into a pout which made his heart melt at the look. - If you were to tell the story of Persephone and Hades, how would you tell it?

   - I wouldn’t because I seemingly don’t know. - she had a playful nature to her gaze, a stark contrast to those with whom he spent most of his days with in the Underworld. James took her hand in his like a scene in a Jane Austen movie, slowly pulling her to him. - So what’s it gonna be?

    - Persephone found the entry to the Underworld and decided to stay because she enjoyed it here. Once Demeter realised her daughter was gone Hades faked the kidnapping story for her because he was hopelessly in love with Persephone. 

    - What about the nymphs that saw the abduction? How do you explain that?

    - There are some perks to being the God of the Underworld, sweetness. 

    - I’m guessing you won’t tell me what those perks are. 

    - Maybe later, sweetness. You must join me for dinner now.

    - Bucky ... - she picked onto her nails, eyes looking at her shoes. - Who’s the man next to you in the photo?

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x Y/N #sebastian stan/reader #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky AU #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier/reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier drabble #sebastian stan au #marvel au #Hades!Bucky #hades au #GREEK GOD AU

[blissfulalchemist]

Fight back. Fight back! With John and Cat pretty please, I need all of their angst

Thank you for this! Sorry it took awhile. I hope it fits the bill of angst. It can also be read on Ao3 since this is canon.

There’s no hope of that day ever leaving her vision, not now. Not ever. The dirtied blonde hair with its streaks of red, her hands clinging to Cat’s as she smiled trying to hide the fear in her eyes. She had never looked so young before, it was a wonder Cat didn’t catch on sooner. Would that have made much of a difference in the end? Could it have saved Sarah’s life? No, probably not. Sarah was doomed to an early end the minute she met Catlina. 

Some Mother Mary figure she was, she brought a child into this and both suffered the consequences. No, more than two people….Sarah’s mother, the only one to have shown any kind of care for her, was to suffer the most. Her daughter dead at sixteen, she’d have preffered to have heard the cause be suicide than see Mary Seed at her door. Would rather have never known than listen to Cat’s explanation of what happened. Her whole world was gone from her, really and truly gone from her. Thinking her daughter a runaway never to be seen again was a better comfort to the poor woman. 

Far better than any kind of comfort Catlina could offer as she screamed and wept, repeating over and over Sarah’s name. It wasn’t too long after “I’m so sorry for your loss” that the grieving mother worked on pushing Cat out of the house, off of the property, out of her life. Gone, gone, gone. Gone like everything else. Cat had to send Lance over to ask the question she never got the opportunity to utter. 

Who knew regret could linger so heavily in the back of one's throat, holding back the screams that should have been uttered by the dead. She should have never gone to tell Sarah’s family. John had warned her it was a bad idea, to just let one of the other members tell them if Cat was so istent on the whole idea. No, she had told him, she wanted to pay her respects. A lie, it was the guilt. Cat needed to staciate the guilt, her guilt. Two….two people for whom she’d caused their downfalls, she didn’t want there to be a third.

 It was silence that she sat in, waiting for Lance to return with news of what was to be done with Sarah’s body. The family, for all their indifference to Sarah, deserved to have the opportunity to have that choice presented to them. If they chose to have nothing left to do with her, Catlina would make sure Sarah was buried with the utmost respect and care, let her leave this world with love and attention she deserved in this life.

Short life.

Sixteen….sixteen. Could one even call it a life being that young?

The sound of the door closing doesn’t stir Cat from her gaze into the fire before her, it had to have been John, Lance only left ten minutes ago. She can hear John move about the living room towards the table on the west wall, the crystal containers too high pitched for her ears as they hit against each other. Cat brings her knees up placing her chin on them trying to tune out the ringing. She can’t differentiate between the time he had stopped moving them and the glass that’s now appeared before her, held in the air by his tattooed hand. The smell of the alcohol in it strong as she waves it away, “You sure,” John asks.

A nod from her and he gives a shrug, knocking the drink back before taking a seat next to Cat. He lets out a sigh, her eyes glancing his way, it’s rare for him to be this quiet. “I take it your mission didn’t go as planned,” he says finally. She doesn’t respond, only letting out a slow breath rolling her eyes. John gives a half hearted chuckle, “You shouldn’t be so surprised at your results,” he finishes his second drink, turning to face her, “Admittedly a bit admirable trying to give them a choice.”

“Sarah’s family deserved to at least know,” Cat said softly, “Her mother still cared about her to some degree.”

“Yet was happier thinking her a runaway,” he shook his head, “Or do you like killing people’s hope?”

Cat sat straightened out facing him, “Excuse me?” John didn’t look at her giving her a small shrug, “That is not what I did. She would have been in more pain never knowing what happened to Sarah. Always wondering and contemplating the what ifs, her mind probably making up much worse stories.”

He leaned back on the couch, “It could have just been a better comfort to believe her daughter was alive and out in the world, happier making her own way rather than suffering at home.” John’s blue eyes met hers, “Is that kind of thinking so terrible?” Cat blinked, averting her gaze, biting the inside of her lip. John wasn’t wrong. The logic of it made sense, but there was no way to know that for sure. Sarah’s mother didn’t give Cat much time to talk to her. “Hmm,” John studied her a  moment more, leaving to get another drink, “So do you have a verdict on what to do with Sarah?”

“I sent Lance back over,” John nodded along, “She didn’t give me an answer and I hoped that maybe he might have a better shot at it.” 

“And if he doesn’t succeed?” He turned leaning against the table, drink in hand, “What then? My brother would like an answer soon.”

“What does he plan to do with Sarah?”

“Same as the others,” John’s steps echoed through the house, “Bury them and have a small prayer at the next service.”

“And by bury you mean….?”

“No one else there, just buried in a simple casket. Nothing much in the way of preparations.”

“She was faithful….a chosen,” She was sixteen. Was Sarah really going to be treated like some Jane Doe?, “Will she be cleaned up at least?” John’s hesitation was enough to answer, “We can’t let that happen John.”

“The general faith doesn’t believe in there being excess of  certain practices,” John sat across from her on the coffee table, “She gets something with it being Joseph, you should be thankful for that.”

“I-.” Cat’s words were cut short with the entrance of Lance, his face apologetic as she turned to see him, “What did Sarah’s mother say?”

“She doesn’t want her body. Thinks that it was some trick to get her to join up with Eden’s Gate,” his hazel eyes caught John’s, “Said if it was really her daughter then she’d get a more respectful burial here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Powell,” John replied, his tone already waving Lance away, “I’ll send word to my brother.”

Lance gave a curt nod, turning to leave, Cat’s hands starting to shake, “So that’s it then?” 

“Do you not want it to be?” John asked, head tilted ever so slightly, face neutral.

“He won’t even clean her up, give Sarah something that isn’t blood stain to take with her in the after life!” How could he be so casual about this? So unfeeling about it all? Sarah was sixteen.

“Then you tell him that.” The shortness of his answer, nor the answer itself, shouldn’t have made her flinch, but there she was regaining her composure from the surprise.

Cat gave a snort, “Yeah because your brother is so keen on listening to me.”

John arched a brow, “You think he wouldn’t take your opinion into account?”

“No,” Cat crossed her arms, “Why would he? I’m just some pawn.”

“You really believe that don’t you?” John clicked his tongue, “Guess I was wrong then.”

Cat narrowed her eyes, brows knitting together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing really,” he stood making his way to the stairs, “Just a little more obvious why you’re feeling like you don’t get some kind of respect.”

Cat clenched her jaw, following him, “Care to elaborate on that, John?”

“You don’t fight.” He didn’t say it with any sort of disdain or mockery, just as if he was stating some kind of fact.

“I fight with you plenty.”

“Sure, but you don’t fight with anyone else.”

“So?”

“It means that you don’t actually fight,” he gave her a smirk, “You just want someone to yell at.”

I don’t yell, “You ever think it strategic?”

Cat caught the smallest of eye rolls from him, before he continued, “You ever wonder how Faith managed to gain the respect of me and my brothers?”

“That’s different,” Cat countered, “Faith is part of your family. I’m not.”

“Aren’t you?” His too calm voice, Better his than Joseph’s, was infuriating as Catlina felt her cheeks start to burn, “You are my wife, are you not? That’s how people see you. You’re Mary Seed, John’s wife.”

Catlina clenched her jaw, how she hated to have been reduced to only a man’s wife, “Married in doesn’t mean you get the same respect.”

“Only if you don’t fight for it, or did you forget that Faith was adopted into this family.” John started to pace around the room, “Faith started off as any other member, didn’t have your luxury of starting off so high up. None of us would have given much of a damn about her if she hadn’t made sure we knew who she was. Surprised me, I’ll admit, with how much power was there behind that timid and shy face.”

“I’m not Faith,” Cat mumbled.

John settled himself against the bannister leading to the second floor, “No, you’re not. You were born again here as Mary, someone that can and should demand the same respect and treatment of her fellow siblings.”

Siblings, that was a stretch, John knew that. He’s baiting you, Cat could start to hear the pounding of her heart, Don’t give into it. You’re hand’s already starting to shake, she glanced down to the trembling fist. “If that was true why are you seen as an underling to Joseph,” the emotion that passed through John’s eyes came and went too quickly for Cat to identify it, “You’re not the only one who hears things, John.” The slightest clench in his jaw, followed by that casual smile of his, her hand shaking more, You’re not her. Stop your anger, you’re not her. You don’t blow up like her. 

“That center of yours,” John pushed himself off the bannister, keeping one arm crossed while the other stayed free, glass in hand, “You ever wonder why I even allowed such a place to exist?” Because maybe, just maybe, you wanted to do some kind of good, “A place free, mostly, of Eden’s Gate’s, in your words, ‘influence’. A place that relies on the good faith in others to do the right thing. To rid themselves of their greed, their individualistic mindset, and bring forth their compassion for total strangers as soon as they walked through the door of that place.” John shook his head, “A pipe dream if you ask me.”

Slow your breathing. One, “What’s your point,” Two.

“Why do you think I let you have that center of yours,” he looked to the ground, some hair falling out of place as he pointed to her. Three.

She rolled her eyes shrugging, “I don’t know because some part of you cares about me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Cute. Naive notion though.” Cat crossed her arms biting her tongue, “Try again.”

She looked away from his pacing, this was feeling more like a college lecture. Naive notion, she had to think more like John, “A different method of gaining new recruits.”

“Elaborate,” his movement never ceasing, gesturing for her to continue when Cat grew silent for too long.

She sighed, “You’re still having a hand in restricting some of the supplies and food in the county, my center provides what’s needed. Do it long enough, restrict little by little and soon enough people become desperate. The center can only hold so much though so it becomes easier to sell them on something that will provide all that is needed.”

He stopped, “Huh,” John looked at her, smiling, “Clever plan.” The praise ice running down her spine, “Wrong answer though.” He set the glass down, “The correct answer is because you fought for it.” John took a step towards her, Cat taking one back her brows knitted together, “I found it strange that the woman who, in the first two hours of being with us, pushed my brother over with little hesitation while yelling at him would turn back into this meek creature that I see before me.”

It’s called survival, “I found out where my place was.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” John’s eyes studied her, Cat looked down, shoulders pulling to the center of her body, “I just assumed back then that I read you wrong, that it was a moment of impulse for you.” Not that far off John-o, “Then you asked to have that center,” he was inches from her now, fingers running up her arm, “I said no, the notion to this day is abhorrent to me. You didn’t let up though, it seemed like you asked every hour,” her blood followed his trail as he traced over her clavicle, “I thanked the Lord when you finally stopped asking.”

John’s touch ran up her neck, fingertips starting to rest just under her chin, “I asked one more time,” Cat whispered, unresisting to him tilting her face to meet his.

“No, Mary,” John leaned down, holding her gaze, “you didn’t ask, you demanded.” His hand grabbed hold of her chin, stopping her from looking away, John’s voice lowering, “You walked into my office, dropped that contract in front of me, and refused to leave until I listened to everything you had to say about it.” 

Cat started to twist, hoping for release from his grip. His praises gave implication that she was like them in some way. Ruthless, cold, cunning, everything she never wanted to be. She was nothing like them, wanted nothing to even do with them. “That fire, the exact same one I see in your eyes right now was back. The woman I had the barest hint of respect for was still there.” 

She pushed him away, words spitting out, “I knew how to fight back against you,” Not really. Cat slinked back needing as much distance as she could manage, “I figured it out,” Not enough, “easy as one, two, three.”

He laughed, “Then my brothers should be easier for you to figure out. And yet,” her hands touched the wood paneling, heart thundering, “here we are. My fearful rabbit, unable to fight back.” Her breathing quickened, nails scraping the wall, he felt too close, Breathe, just breathe. He’s lying to you, tricking you….He’s right though. 

No, “I can fight back plenty,” she said lowly, feeble attempt to hide the tremble in her voice, “Part of that is knowing when to pick your battles.”

He stepped closer, Cat averting her gaze hiding the blood rushing to her cheeks, “Why not pick this one then?” 

Her mouth went dry, fingers going numb, “I don’t fight battles already lost.”

“Then all of them will be lost,” he turned away from her, “You can’t win what you never fought.” Cat watched as John made his way to the stairs, mouth agape frozen to the wall, “You want things to play out differently with Sarah, it's up to you to speak with Joseph,” he called over his shoulder.

She waited for the door to close behind him, sliding down the wall, fingers raking through her hair. She hated games, hated trying to always figure out the rules, John was changing them. Always changing them, he was worse than her mother. Tiptoe around, find your place, what will keep the anger and negative emotions away, never get in a fight, never start them. She had them, had the rules down, easy to keep her head down, look and find an exit. John was looking for a fight, she was entertainment, his entertainment. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, you made yourself the entertainment. You make yourself so easy to bait into these conversations. You’re the one that’s afraid, the thoughts repeated over and over. Some part of Cat had to remember she wasn’t at fault for all of this, right? Had to be, no other explanation as to why she was here still. Weak, “You’re just being dramatic. You need to take accountability for your actions.”, easily trusting, took those threats at face value. All Cat, all Catlina’s own doing. 

Fight back, How? There was no way to fight back, didn’t she entrench herself so far into this cult that she herself was one of them? Fight back, She took Bliss the first time, convinced herself that she could help find a way to make people feel better, “What did you do? They’re like zombies.”, Faith knows and was left to clean up Cat’s mistake. 

Sarah was sixteen, how did Jacob let that slip by, how did she let that fact slip by her. She knew what sixteen looked like….So did he, Jacob didn’t stop Sarah though. He let her continue with that training of his, training that led her to that field, to stand in the line of fire. “You saved me, it's only fair I save you.” “Do you think Eden really looks like paradise, Mary?”, Cat’s fault….Sarah was fated for death the moment she made Lance pull that car over. 

“You can’t win what you never fought.”, She just needed to at least make sure Sarah was laid with respect. Being the harbinger of death didn’t mean you had to act just as cold, “I’m not like them.” 

Cat wiped away her tears, crying of course she was, all she was ever good for, “Can’t fight for me.” I don’t deserve to be fought for, “I can fight for her. Fight for others,” Good people fight for others and I’m a good person. “I fight back, John,” she whispered to the empty room, standing, “I just don’t fight like you. I don’t fight selfishly.” 

She made her way to the spare room, closet full of the excess that didn’t fit in the master, the dress was here. Sarah didn’t have much of anything, the new members so rarely do, yet she still wanted to look as presentable as possible during her baptism. There, a simple shift dress with its chiffon and lace, Cat found the gold ribbon to tie around it’s waist, Sarah said she had never been happier. She didn’t even want to hide the scars littering her arms and legs, “You don’t Mary, so why should I? Besides God will wipe them clean so I can heal.”, that line, something John must have told her to convince her to join Eden’s Gate. 

Cat’s eyes looked to the guard outside, eyes landing on Lance, directing the other members to their posts for the evening. She stood, patiently waiting for him to finish, “It's getting late Mary,” he said to her once the last member walked off, “You should be getting ready for bed.”

He turned, eyes landing on the white dress in her arms, “I need to see Joseph and this can’t wait until morning.” Lance nodded, picking up the assault rifle, “Thank you.” She looked to the bedroom window once settled into the car, John’s silhouette visible, You better wipe that smug smile off, I’m not doing this for me. I have nothing to prove to you….and I never will.

#salvations two paths #x: tribulation #look at me writing something #no I don’t believe Joseph would do that but we’ll cat doesn’t

[bisexualsforprompto]

What’s in a Family?

Would you believe that I actually wanted to get through more content? This “Drabble” got a little out of hand lol. Honestly I don’t think I’ll continue this, sorry!

Thank you @abrx2002 for this amazing idea! You rock!

~~~~~

‘Playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne does it again.’ Thought Valentina Cross as she shoved her skinny jeans back on her. She looked back at Bruce who was still out like a light and sighed. She had a feeling she’d never see him again, but did she want to?

Almost a full month later Valentina cursed the rich man. She was pregnant.

Her parents would not be happy, not when she was only in her twenties. Valentina considered turning to her other family members, her grandparents would certainly tell her parents and her aunts and uncles as well, but there was one woman Valentina could always trust.

So Valentina showed up at her elder sister’s doorstep in Paris fresh off the boat from America. Only three months pregnant at the time, her sister vowed to look after her for the last six months and even take her newborn child.

But things didn’t go as planned. Some sick, cruel hand of fate dealt its cards. When Valentina was only one week away from her due date her sister went to run some errands and... never came back.

Callia Cross was pronounced dead from a car accident on the very day that Valentina went to the hospital. What felt like years later a newborn child with tufts of blue hair like her mother’s and beautiful bluebell eyes like her father’s was born. At first the doctor’s were afraid the child wouldn’t make it, but the lucky young girl did.

Valentina wasn’t so lucky.

Not even five minutes after her child was born Valentina was dead.

The unnamed baby was sent into the nursery while the doctors debated where to send her.

Valentina had no identification on her, she was a Jane Doe to everyone in Paris except her sister who couldn’t say a word unless it was to the worms.

Sabine Cheng and Tomas Dupain only wanted a child and one was sitting right before them. After years of trying to get pregnant with no success Sabine was ready to give up until she saw a small blue-eyed little girl staring at her with wide eyes as she was carted into a nearby room.

“Mother was a Jane Doe, we’ll have to send her to an orphanage or put her in foster care.” Sighed a petite doctor to her male coworker.

“It always breaks my heart with cases like these.” He responded before walking the baby into the nursery.

“Doctors Richmond and Poppy please report to the ER, code red.”

The doctors absentmindedly left the door open as they dashed past Tom and Sabine.

With shaky hands Sabine walked over to the baby girl who had never made it into the nursery. She picked her up and without a spoken word to Tom they silently made their way out of the hospital.

Sabine and Tom had underestimated the weight of having a child. They treated the baby from the hospital, who they named Marinette, as more of a burden than a blessing especially after Sabine succeeded in getting pregnant and brought Brigette Dupain-Cheng into the world.

With all the negligence her parents showed her in favor of her little sister, Marinette had a lot of free time on her hands. She was an inquisitive kid with practically nothing to do, so it was no surprise when she turned twelve, she started noticing things.

First off that she had blue eyes when her parents didn’t and Sabine had no blue eyes in her family so she didn’t even carry the gene. She also noticed that her blood type wasn’t possible when her Tom and Sabine couldn’t have possibly made AB blood.

Marinette kept digging, it took her two years but she finally figured out who her biological mother was under the noses of her “sister” and “parents”.

In a way Marinette was almost happy that Tom and Sabine weren’t related to her, they never acted like family to her. The only downside that Marinette could think of was that her mother had been categorized as a Jane Doe whose child was stolen. There wasn’t much to go on and there was no trace of who her father could be.

She was originally going to ask Max for help finding her birth father in hopes he was still alive and would want to meet his daughter, but it wasn’t possible when all that her class gave her since Lila came to the class was the cold shoulder. It was also the only thing her parents gave her, they didn’t even need Lila for an excuse to pay attention to Brigette over her.

Some days she wouldn’t even get back to the house because she was patrolling and fighting as Ladybug or cleaning up one of Chat’s messes and they didn’t even notice.

Chat was a whole other thing. After a few months of being the guardian of the miracle box Marinette, with the help of Tikki, found out that she had the power to make things better for herself. Maybe she couldn’t do anything about Tom and Sabine or her friends but she could make being Ladybug, the best part of her day, bearable for her.

She took Chat’s ring away. She wasn’t going to tolerate being sexually harassed and cleaning up after someone who was supposed to be helping any longer. She couldn’t say she was surprised to find Adrien the pacifist behind the mask. He was sad and slightly angry but he said he understood. Marinette wasn’t sure if he really did or maybe he had his own fantasy of why she had taken it away.

It was irrelevant. She should’ve known she wouldn’t last long as the sole savior of Paris especially with all the media asking about the former black cat wielder. She couldn’t survive much longer without help and Bustier’s class couldn’t be trusted anymore.

She was utterly alone. Lila ostrichsized her in class, her parents isolated her at home and she got rid of her partner. It got to the point where Marinette asked Tikki if she should give Adrien his ring back to which Plagg butted in and said no way in hell.

So Marinette did what she did when she felt alone, she researched. A big city in America sounded promising for her objective.

Kaalik opened her a portal for Gotham City. Ladybug’s mission was to find Batman or another hero and ask for something she hadn’t asked for in years: help.

It didn’t go as planned.

So there she was standing in front of a hero of Gotham, Robin, who she tied to a street light with her yo-yo.

“Are you ready to listen now?!” Marinette spat in perfect English. Robin scowled and furrowed his brows making him seem older than he actually was. Marinette was slightly annoyed that he had attacked her on sight and was acting all holier than thou on her when he couldn’t have been any older than her!

“I’m a hero from France named Ladybug, we are currently fighting a terrorist named Hawkmoth. I am the sole hero of Paris and I need some help.”

“TT. Not likely.” Frowned the boy. Marinette was about to blow a gasket when she heard a series of thuds behind her. She spun around to see the rest of the Batfamily in all their heroic glory.

‘I’m in for it now…’ Marinette thought when she realized that when the Bats saw Robin was tied up behind her they’d think she was a villain just like Robin did.

Batman stepped towards her slowly and held his hand out. Marinette looked at it quizzically.

“B you can’t be serious.” Said Nightwing.

“Yeah, that story’s obviously bullshit, we would’ve known about a crisis in Paris.” Red Hood frowned.

“We did.” Was all Batman said pressing his communicator into Ladybug’s hands, “Take this. The number for the Batcave is programmed into it. I assure you we will look into the situation. I was told by my colleague that it was nothing more than a hoax so if you’ll excuse me I have a green lantern to skin.”

“Thank you monsieur. I really mean it.” Marinette smiled blinking back tears. “Voyage.”

Ladybug placed on foot through the portal before remembering Robin. She retracted her yo-yo and stepped completely into it.

Marinette had no idea what to expect when Batman had said he would check Paris out. For all she knew the American army could be on their way.

What she wasn’t expecting was to bump into a boy the next day who looked very similar to her in facial structure. She pushed the thought away, he was only like her in stature and facial symmetry, she shared nothing else with him so it was probably just a coincidence.

He scowled at before going into Bustier’s room, she realized he must’ve been a new student.

She didn’t pay that much mind, he’d probably be a part of Lila’s web soon enough so there was no point in befriending him. She walked into the room to see her prophecy was already coming true, the emerald eyed boy was right at Lila’s desk.

She walked to the back of the class where she had been banished to. She shoved her books down before catching the conversation Lila and the new boy were having.

“So Damian, since you’re from America I bet you’ve heard of Bruce Wayne. Well…” she giggled and paused for dramatic effect, “I know him. I actually used to babysit his youngest, David.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Unlikely as his youngest is your age and his name isn’t David.”

“Uh- I- ha ha!” Lila sputtered before laughing obnoxiously, “It seems we’re probably thinking of different Bruce Wayne’s.”

“It seems I don’t care, don’t talk to me again, got it?” Lila burst out into fake tears causing the rest of the class to glare at Damian. He simply rolled his eyes and went to the back of the class and sat next to Marinette.

“They’re like sheep.” He noted. Marinette nodded, “I think they’re dumber.” She mumbled under her breath. Damian smirked and turned to her.

“Damian Grayson.” Marinette beamed, “Marinette!”

“I think we’re going to get along fine.” He said before turning his attention to the front of the class.

A frazzled Miss Bustier ran into the class shortly after.

“Sorry class, I got a bit held up! Now I hear we have a new student!” She squinted at where Damian was sitting, “Damian why don’t you come down here and sit next to Lila?”

“The liar? No thanks.”

“Damian, that kind of behavior will not be tolerated. Marinette has been seen bullying Lila and I just want you to have a positive experience at DuPont!”

“Really? It seems to me like you’re an enabler. Marinette is perfectly capable and seems to have more brain cells than the rest of you.” Damian sneered with a ferocious protectiveness he hadn’t felt before except with his brothers and sisters.

Miss Bustier went into a flustered frenzy, opening and closing her mouth before she finally announced, “Alright class open your books to chapter three.”

“Predictable.” Damian scoffed beneath his breath.

“Thanks.” Marinette whispered.

“Don’t mention it.”

For a week Marinette and Damian’s small back and forth dialogue became increased. It made him a target for Lila but he didn’t seem to care. They’re friendship almost thrived on mocking Lila’s threats. Damian had many choice words for the flock of Lila’s followers as well. Marinette had been feeling a pull to him as if it was magic.

One night she thought it over, long and hard, could it have been miraculous magic?

“Tikki?” Marinette called.

“Yes Marinette?”

“I was wondering...I feel very connected to Damian but it’s hard to explain, it’s not like what I used to feel for Adrien, Luka or Kagami.”

Tikki sighed. “I’ve had my suspicions for awhile but this confirms it...I think Damian is your black cat. Every Ladybug and cat bond is different, more times than not it’s romantic but I think yours is platonic or even familial.”

“I guess that’s a relief in a lot of ways. Besides, dating Damian would be like dating my brother if I had one,” Marinette wrinkled her nose, “Though maybe I do…” She let out a long groan, “I wish I knew my birth father.”

“There, there Marinette. I’m sure you’ll know someday,” Tikki patted her back. “But as guardian it’s your decision to give Damian a miraculous or not, so we should focus on that. I know you’ve known him for a short time but do you think you can trust him?”

Marinette paused. Damian wasn’t an open person, in fact quite the opposite. He dodged the subject of his past, or gave her some small tidbits out of context. Damian had a good heart, that she could see, but it also felt tainted. But Marinette knew what made her a good guardian wouldn’t be stressing out over the choice or overanalyzing everything. That wasn’t how magic worked. “I think I can…”

The next night Kharaab made his debut as the new black cat. It was on the news and the Ladyblog quickly and spread like wildfire. She had given Damian a heads up beforehand, she had a feeling that when the news came out they’d have to face another akuma.

She was right. Chat Blanc, a jealous Adrien who missed his power, took hours to even make any slight headway. The moment Ladybug cast her lucky charm Chat Blanc had made a nasty gash in her stomach. Damian had trapped him out of pure rage and knocked him out. Disregarding the lucky charm which was nowhere to be found, Damian took Marinette back to the makeshift apartment he had been staying in. After detransforming, Damian consulted Plagg. The god of destruction told him that the only way she’d be saved was from a blood transfusion. Ladybug was passed out on his couch and if she detransformed it was likely that Marinette would bleed out faster and even die.

He took a test for her blood type himself, he had brought the necessary kits with him thank kwami. He quickly found out her blood type was AB, which was odd considering how rare it was and that he happened to share the same type. Though maybe that was just the luck of the miraculous...either way Damian didn’t waste time, he quickly fixed her and waited until she woke up.

“Damian?” Marinette asked groggily.

“Yes?”

“W-what happened?”

“Chat Blanc hit you, he’s currently unable to escape so I patched you up and gave you a blood transfusion, luckily we share some of the same DNA.” Marinette’s eyes lit up.

“D-Damian, Tom and Sabine...they aren’t my parents.”

“What?” Damian was taken aback.

“No...my birth mother died when I was born and I think Tom and Sabine stole me. I don’t know my birth father.”

Damian cleared his throat, “Well I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I haven’t been entirely truthful. My real name is Damian Wayne and my father is Bruce Wayne. I’m also Robin.” Marinette gaped. “Don’t look so surprised. The point is, it’s possible we are related but we probably aren’t, either way...I’d be proud to call you my sister.”

Marinette brushed a tear from her cheek, “T-thanks Damian.”

“Whatever,” He said avoiding eye contact, “Let’s go, we still have an akuma to beat.”

They made short work of Chat Blanc once Marinette found her lucky charm. She returned Adrien safely home and took Damian to her home to get Kaaliki.

“Are you going to tell your parents where you’re going?” Damian frowned as Marinette got ready to open the portal. Marinette gave him a small smile.

“T-they don’t really love me. They’ve never been my family…”

“I can get my father’s lawyers for a lawsuit. Stealing a child is illegal.”

“I know Damian, but Brigette. They love her. She’s the closest thing I’ve had to a sister even if they always chose her over me. I don’t want her to grow up alone and hating the world because her parents are out of the picture.” The dangling ‘like I did,’ that Marinette hadn’t spoken was deafening.

“If my father is yours...I’m going to face him with my blade for not giving you the life you should’ve had.”

“Thanks Damian, but if my hunch is correct whoever my father really is had no idea I existed.” Damian nodded before making a motion as if to say, ‘go ahead.’

“Voyage.”

They were standing in the bat cave. Marinette quickly undid her transformation in front of the many bats before her.

“Father, this is Marinette.” Damian introduced as he walked near his father, “You know her better as Ladybug but I believe you could also know her as your biological daughter.”

~~~~~~

Taglist

@northernbluetongue

@queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm

@luciferge

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@elijahcoser

@daminett4life

@mochegato

#maribat #bio! dad Bruce Wayne

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 23

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 11,552

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Sorry, did I miss a point back there where my car transformed into a submarine to cross the Atlantic Ocean?"

I turned my head towards Lea, knitting my eyebrows together. "Pardon?"

"Well I just don't see how else we would have ended up at freaking Buckingham Palace," he muttered, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tipped his aviators forward for a better look at the mansion at the end of the long, extravagant driveway he was currently cruising his car down. He gave a low whistle, "Shit, all it's missing are those dudes in the highschool band uniforms and big fuzzy hats."

Rolling my eyes, I snorted softly. "Oh come now, it's not that big."

He scoffed, "'Not that big' is something girlfriends say about their exes to protect their insecure boyfriends' fragile male egos. It's not what you say about the Taj Ma-fucking-hal here."

The dreaded weekend was upon us at last.

You know. The Weekend. Capital T, capital W.

Aka, the visit with my parents.

Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really was about to be tested to the extreme limits.

The chateau in question (maybe villa would be a better word? Or manor, perhaps? Really, it wasn't big at all, Lea was just exaggerating) belonged to my parents. This was the home I'd grown up in. It was weird coming back here now after all that had happened. Was still in the process happening, I suppose. My fingers fidgeted with my braid as the mansion loomed ever higher the closer we got.

Actually… now that we were more up close and I was really seeing it again… oh gosh, it was rather enormous, wasn't it?

...had it somehow grown in size since last I-?

Shush, now, don't be ridiculous. That was just the anxiety talking.

Of which I was in no short supply of. I still had no clue what was in store for this weekend. Anna seemed almost just as much in the dark as I was, which was strange seeing as how she still lived here. Then again, I was pretty sure she'd been spending a lot less time around home lately in favor of staying over at her new boyfriend's place. A man I still surprisingly knew absolute zilch about, but I was hoping Anna had invited him to join us for this weekend as well. That way, I'd get to meet him and maybe even have a little of the attention taken off me. Long shot, I know, considering he was only Anna's still relatively new beau whereas I'd skipped out on my own wedding and shamed my whole family (apparently), so this guy was kind of small potatoes by comparison. But hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

It was actually Friday evening right now, so we were going to be in for more of a long weekend - in every sense of the word. Lea and I had both worked early shifts today before going to our respective homes, getting changed, packing bags for staying over for two nights and then finally heading up. Not knowing what this weekend was going to entail was wreaking no small amount of havoc on my nerves. That said, it could have been worse. Pretty sure I'd actually been more nervous for the audition a couple days ago than I was for this. Maybe that was because the audition had just been so last minute, whereas I'd been preparing for this little get-together for a couple weeks now. Even I had to admit that Lea and I made a pretty convincing couple at this point. Sure, I still got a bit awkward with PDAs, but I was no longer anywhere near as bad as I had been the day I'd seen father at my old condo.

...then again, doing the whole relationship act around the mall for the past couple weeks was one thing. Trying to pull off the same charade in front of my parents now, not to mention the Duke as well? Probably was going to be a lot more complicated.

I really had no idea what was going to happen the moment we passed through those ornate double doors leading into my parent's home.

But I was about to find out.

Whether I liked it or not.

"Alright, we made it," Lea announced as he parked the car next to the big fountain in the middle of the circle driveway, shutting off his engine. He shot me a grin, "You ready for this, my lil sötnos?"

I blinked over at him, then narrowed my eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's a Swedish term of endearment. Its literal translation is sweet nose. And if yours ain't the sweetest, I dunno what is," his grin twitched wider as he reached over to tweak said nose.

"Sweet n-" I groaned, swatting his hand away. "Veto."

"Aw c'mon, I thought that one was cute!" he gave a little whine. I just drooped my eyelids at him and he sighed, stretching over to open his glove compartment and pull a black marker from it. "Guess America's just not ready for the sweet nose," he grumbled, pulling the cap off with his teeth and marking something off on his palm.

I frowned. "...what are you doing?"

"Regrettably giving up on what is arguably the greatest pet name of all time, that's what."

"No, I meant with your hand." I snatched his in both mine, yanking it over in front of my face to discover a small list written on the inside of his palm, located at the top of which was sötnos with a line struck through it. "...are these... more terms of endearment for me?"

He smirked as he leaned in closer to stare down at his palm alongside me. "Yup! Since the big weekend's here, figured I'd best come prepared. This is important stuff we gotta nail down!"

I squinted at the words before me, reading, "Kruzynko…?"

"It means breadcrumb."

Scrunching up my nose, I stole the marker from him and crossed that one off. "No. Bogárkám?"

"My little bug," Lea supplied, sounding more confident in this one.

A snerk. "Nope," I popped the P. And another one bites the dust. My tongue tripped uncertainly over the next one, "Blodyn tatws?"

"Heh… potato flowers?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh wow, I love that one."

He perked up, "Really?"

"Absolutely... not," I said flatly, looking him dead in the eye as I drew a line across it as well.

"Aw man, not cool!" He pouted, then pursed his lips to one side. "Hey, is now really the best time to be doing this? We, uh…" he chuckled sheepishly, holding up his second hand to reveal a whole other list scrawled on that one too, "...might end up being here all day."

I stared blankly at him. "Just how many more of those do you have?"

"I'd show ya, but that'd require me going a lil more half monty than you'd probably prefer I'd get in your parent's driveway."

My brow furrowed and I leaned away slightly, eyeing him up and down. "...where…?"

He waggled his eyebrows at me, "That's for me to know and you to find out."

I let his hand drop from my grasp, "I'm good, thanks." As he snickered, I looked away, rubbing my fingertips over one of my (now brought to a low simmer) cheeks. "Can't you just stick to El? It's simple. Nice… I like El."

"You do?" I heard him ask and I directed a furtive sideways glance in his direction. A slow smile was curling his lips, "Alright… El it is." But then he was peeking down at his palm again. "...and also krúttið mitt."

Biting back a grin, I swat his shoulder. "How would you like it if I kept calling you some weird pet name in a foreign language all the time?"

Lea beamed, "I'd like it very much actually."

"Really? Fine," I took up his hand again, scrutinizing his palm, "...mo chuisle it is then."

His eyes lit up, "Ooo, that one's spicy!"

Oh dear, why had I thought this was a good idea again?

"...what's it mean?"

He bent towards me, eyes hooded as he purred, "You just called me your pulse."

I've made a grave error this day.

"Ah-ah!" he chirped, pressing a finger to my lips as they began to part. "Too late! No take-backsies!"

I huffed, unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me.

Lea looked far too smug as he climbed out himself, retrieving both our bags from the backseat of the car on his way out and slinging them over his shoulder. He removed his aviators, hooking them into the collar of his black, fitted v-neck shirt as his eyes took in the mansion before us once again. He'd reclaimed his leather jacket to wear for this, accompanied by snug jeans tastefully ripped at just one knee and a pair a black, heavy, steel-toed boots. He'd blinged out a bit as well, sporting a small sun medallion that hung from a chain down to his mid-chest, along a few strappy leather bracelets and a couple of rings decorating his fingers. His winged guyliner was somehow even darker and bolder than usual and his hair had been pulled back into a half-tail.

Not going to lie, my traitorous fingers practically itched to pet that little red tuft at the back of his head.

Instead, I settled for fussing with the necklace that rested against my skin just above my collarbone. The pendant was formed of three blue, almond-shaped gemstones gathered together at one point. A present from Rayne to wish me luck on this trip. I was a much bigger fan of her good luck charm than I had been of the one Lea had "gifted" me with for the musical tryouts. I wore the small charm with a classic little wrap dress in a soft lilac. Off the shoulder of course - it was me we were talking about here, so you can probably guess it before I even say it at this point - and with the hem of the skirt flaring out around the knees.

Needless to say, looking at him and me side-by-side right now, it was clear one of us was either severely over or underdressed. Considering it was my parents' door we were about to knock on, one guess as to who was what.

"Try not to scratch the paint, chief!" Lea chipperly called out as he was suddenly tossing his keys at one of the staff under my parents' employ who just so happened to be walking past us in that second.

Eyes widening, the man fumbled to catch them. As Lea turned to head towards the front door, I followed, quirking my eyebrow at him. "What was that?"

"I'm blending in," he flashed a cheeky smile, shoving a hand into one pocket of his jacket. "Whatcha think, do I sound like a rich asshole or what?"

I tipped my head to one side. "...actually, you kind of sounded like my ex."

A snort escaped through his nose. "I'll take that as a yes then."

We walked a couple steps in silence. Then, "That wasn't a valet, by the way."

He froze midstep, looking at me sharply. "What?"

"That was a gardener. My parents don't even have a valet."

"Oh." Lea glanced back over his shoulder, frowning. "...maybe I should go get my keys back then."

I hid a small grin behind my fingers. "Maybe you should."

Waiting politely, I watched him jog back towards the worker to do just that, along with offering what looked to be quite the humble apology. "Got 'em!" he declared once he'd rejoined me, flinging them up into the air before catching them again to slip into his pocket. "So even a proper gent like your old man feels the need to prove what a hot, young stud he still is, eh? Wouldn't of thought him the type."

"What?" I blinked a couple times. Where'd that come from?

He tossed his chin back towards his vehicle. More specifically, at the few other cars he'd parked next to. "I recognize Anna's Porsche over there, but that blue Ferrari reeks of midlife crisis."

"...that's my car." Then I grimaced and amended, "Rather, was my car."

"Huh?" he looked taken aback. "You drive? Since when?"

I gave a small shrug, "Since always."

"Then why're you always having me n' your roomies chauffeur you around? Not that I mind..."

"I don't have a car or the funds to purchase one." He wordlessly jerked his thumb back towards the Ferrari, face blank. I sighed, "My parents bought me that. It didn't feel right keeping it after… everything. Not with me trying to separate myself from them and make it on my own. No, I plan to buy my own once I've saved up enough."

"Shit, still shoulda kept it," Lea said and I gave him a dull look. He hastily waved a hand in front of him, "Even if ya didn't want it, you coulda sold it and made bank before giving all that munny away to charity. Ya know, just so you could really stick it to your folks."

Shaking my head with a soft chuckle, I started walking towards the entrance again. "Let's just get on with this."

"Aye aye, Capitaine," he gave me a two-fingered salute, catching up to me with his long strides.

Feeling my chest start to constrict as we drew nearer to those doors, I blew out a soft, slow breath. "I hope we're not late. I shouldn't have let you talk me into that salon visit after we got off work."

"What, you needed something to help ya relax and a quick spa day was just the ticket! 'Sides, I wanted to make myself all pretty for this! Whaddya think?" He stretched his arm out before us both, fingers wiggling to show off his fresh coat of black nail polish. "If this doesn't impress your folks and tell 'em what a man of sophisticated tastes I am, I dunno what will!"

I snorted. "I think my father is more of a mauve man himself."

"Really? Crap, you shoulda said something! I'd have asked for a matching color so he and I could be twinsies! Shucks," he snapped his fingers, "missed opportunity."

Coming to a stop on the doorstep, I reached for the bell, but my fingers hesitated.

This was so strange. I'd lived here. Spent my childhood here. I'd never had to use the doorbell before.

...why did the idea of doing so now seem so hard?

A sudden warmth enveloped my other hand. I looked down to discover Lea was holding it. He gave it a small squeeze as he said softly, "Hey. Whatever happens in there, just know I'm here for you."

I felt a small stutter in my chest as a tiny smile tugged at my lips. "...thank you," I murmured, squeezing back before looking to the doorbell once more. Taking a deep, calming breath, I pushed the button at last and a heavy chime could be heard within.

While we waited, a glimmer of something at Lea's waist caught my eye and I turned to see what it was. A crease formed between my eyebrows. "...is that… a wallet chain?"

How had I missed that thing until now?

"Hm?" he followed my gaze. "Oh! Yup! Heh, thought it might really pull the whole look together! Do I look like a punkass bad boy now or what?"

"Or what," I fixed him with a deadpan stare. "You look ridiculous."

He splayed a hand against his chest in mock offense. "Rude. Can't believe you'd talk to your pulse like that."

Face warming, I hung my head. "...I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

"Nope!" he grinned wickedly.

"Would you just take that silly thing off?"

"No can do, sweetcheeks! Boys like to accessorize too, ya know," he sniggered, giving the chain a little twirl. "Just be grateful I left the spiked choker in the glove compartment."

"Spi-?!" I spluttered over the word before managing a scoff and crossing my arms. "Oh, trust me, I am. The point is to get my parents to back off, not to send them into cardiac arrest!"

...huh… Lea in a spiked choker…

"You're trynta imagine what I'd look like wearing it now, aren't ya?" he'd hunched down beside me to whisper into my ear with a smirk.

My cheeks burned so hot, you could have roasted marshmallows on the damn things.

"...am not."

I was almost grateful when the door swung open just then. And also a little surprised, because the face that greeted me wasn't that of my parents' house maid Gerda.

No, instead it was that of a pale, wide-eyed, huffing and puffing Anna.

(With Gerda right behind her, looking quite harried and put out by the fact that my sister had stolen her job.)

"Elsa!" she cried out in relief. "Finally! What took you so long?!"

Furrowing my brow, I began, "Anna? What-?"

"No time! Get." She lunged towards me. "In here." Her hands seized my shoulders. "Now!" I was forcibly yanked inside.

I heard the door booming shut behind me and could only hope that Lea had managed to slip in himself in time as well. Gripping my sister's arms, I tried again, "What's going on? We couldn't be more than a few minutes la-"

Her hand suddenly shot out to squeeze my cheeks together between her thumb and fingers, squishing my face and effectively silencing me. "Shush! No talkie! Only listen! Oh, it's bad, Sis. Really, really bad! It's him! He's here! Like, here here! Right friggin' now!"

"Who's here?" I asked, tugging my face free of her vice-like grip and working my jaw. I knit my eyebrows together at Gerda, who was frantically circling us as she kept trying and failing to get a word in edgewise. "The Duke? I already knew-"

"No! Not the Duke! Of course not, he won't be here until tomorrow! Gah! You know, Sis, sometimes you can be really-" Anna cut herself off in a tiny snarl, fingers curling in front of her to strangle empty air. "Ugh! Anyway, it's- I didn't- It was just- Out of nowhere- Mom and Dad, they- He- His-"

"I think she's trying to tell us something. What is it, Lassie? Timmy trapped in the well again?" Lea snerked as he let our luggage fall to the foyer floor beside his boots.

Ignoring him, I gently rubbed my hands up and down Anna's arms. "Breathe. Calm down. Take a minute to gather your thoughts."

"People!" she suddenly blurted out, startling me a bit. "Lots of them! Loads of them! So many people!"

I frowned. "People? Where? You mean here, now?"

She shook her head rapidly, "No, no, no, no! Not now people! Future people! Tomorrow people! And… and caterers! And musicians! And decorators and, and, and him! He's- Right now, he's- just down the hall, he's- he's-"

"Who, Anna? Who?" I insisted.

Her hands violently shook me, "Him!"

Right. Thanks, Sis. Big help you are.

Why was she like this?

The maid finally managed to pipe in, "What Miss is trying to tell you is that your-"

"Got it, Gerda, thanks!" Anna huffed out with a tiny scowl. Then she took in a deep breath, preparing to say something.

"Crap, I think that dude just robbed us," Lea chimed in first.

Holding a finger up to Anna, I whipped my head around to see what he was talking about: an older gentleman in a black suit walking briskly away with our bags. "Oh, that's just Kai."

Lea cocked an eyebrow at me, "The robber's name is Kai?"

"No, the butler's name is Kai."

"Why would the butler rob us?"

"He's not robbing us, he's just taking our things up to our room." I blanched. "Rooms." Plural. As in more than one. My parents would never, not in a million years, have put Lea and me in the same room under their roof… right? Oh gosh, why was the possibility only just now occurring to me? "He's, uh… he's p-putting them where we'll be staying. Separately. As in, not together. Completely and one hundred percent apart," I (overly) clarified, fighting that blush I felt creeping up my neck now.

Anna suddenly grabbed my head with both hands and forced me to look at her again, grounding out through her teeth, "You're. Not. Listening to me!" Then with a grumbling sigh, she snagged my hand in hers and started dragging me down one of the many corridors that branched off from the foyer. "Come on, we better hurry, they're probably wondering what's taking so long."

Gerda squeaked and scurried after us. "Right this way, please, and I'll see you to the Marigold Room where your hosts await your presence!" she awkwardly trilled, trying to maintain some semblance of performing her duties despite Anna's continued interference.

A whistle from Lea confirmed he was following as well. "Lemme guess. The Duke in the conservatory with the candlestick."

"Wha-?" my voice faltered as my feet tripped trying keep up with Anna, only barely managing to keep myself upright.

He grinned down at me as he strode along, shrugging. "This whole place is a legit, life-sized Clue board. Just trynta play the game here."

I stumbled again. "Ow, Anna! Not so hard. What is the rush?"

Not slowing down, she glanced back at me over her shoulder. "Come on, Elsa, think! What day is it?"

"Uh…" Was this a trick question? "...Friday?"

A low, agitated noise emitted from her throat. "No, what day?"

I squinted up at the ceiling in thought. "...the seventh?"

"Yes!" she spun around to tap her nose excitedly, her feet still moving backwards. "Which would make tomorrow…?"

"The eighth." Lost by this line of questioning? I know I was.

"Of?" she pressed. "What month, Elsa?"

"The eighth of… oh!" It finally clicked and I staggered again, my eyes growing round. "...oh no. It's his birthday. Oh gosh, he's here?! Right now?!"

"Yes! Finally! Thank you!" Anna cried out in exasperation.

"Who?" Lea asked, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead at my sudden change of attitude.

"It's-" I began, but that one word was all I got out before Anna took a sudden sharp turn, yanking me into the Marigold Room with her and bringing us face to face with-

"Grandfather!" I breathed, feet faltering as Anna brought us both to a sudden and jerky stop before him.

He cut an imposing figure, my grandfather. Tall, like father, and with the same red hair too that had been passed down to Anna. His however bore prominent streaks of grey at his temples - really the only sign of him getting on in years as he otherwise looked remarkably good for a man of his age. Still fit as a fiddle, barrel-chested, with a strong, square jaw and a sharp, piercing gaze.

A gaze that was so cold right now that I didn't know how I wasn't frozen into solid ice on the spot.

Anna had been wrong.

This wasn't bad.

This was catastrophic.

Because my grandfather? Not exactly the nicest person. Remember what my father had been like? Well, just think - he'd had to learn it from somewhere. And next to Grandfather, my father seemed warm and cuddly. Like sunshine and rainbows. Heck, Father was as friggin' teletubby by comparison to the man who'd raised him. Grandfather was cut from the same cloth as his brother, the Duke. The epitome of old fashioned and proper etiquette. The thing was, where the Duke was all bluster and tantrums, Grandfather just got quiet when he was angry. Like... really, really quiet. An ominous kind of quiet. A bone-chilling kind of quiet. Whenever Grandfather stopped talking, that's when I really got scared of the man.

No, scratch that. That was when I got petrified of the man.

So the fact that he was just staring down his nose at me right now, eyes narrowed, lips set into a grim, disapproving line, and not uttering a single word? Would have been enough to turn my hair stark white if it weren't pretty damn close already.

And to make matters worse? Mother and Father stood not five feet behind him looking rather unamused with me themselves.

Oh gosh, this wasn't going to be some pleasant, little family gathering.

This was going to be an execution. Mine, to be exact.

Gerda suddenly appeared off to one side, panting to catch her breath and making a hasty curtsy towards my parents and grandfather before announcing, "Elsa and her guest have arrived."

...thanks, Gerda. I think they figured that out already.

I watched as she turned and hurried to make her exit before reluctantly returning my gaze to Grandfather. Still, he said nothing. Just arched one bushy eyebrow at me and waited.

Oh fudge, he wanted me to be the first one to speak? Where do I even begin? What do I even say? Could I even talk right now? I don't think I could, not with how heavy my tongue suddenly felt, like it had turned into solid lead. What was I supposed to do here? How-

Suddenly, I felt it. A hand. Lea's hand, slipping across the small of my back and coming to rest on my hip, pulling me gently into his side. "Aren'tcha gonna introduce me, babe?" he asked, voice low and sugary-sweet as he grinned and pressed a kiss to my temple.

Grandfather's thick mustache gave a little twitch.

That's all it took for me to know. Not thirty seconds into this and there was absolutely zero doubt in my mind.

Before this weekend was out, Grandfather was going to murder Lea.

Inhaling and exhaling, I wrung my hands together and somehow figured out how to do this thing called 'talking' once again. "F-Father, you've already had the, uh… the pleasure, but Grandfather, Mother… this… this is…" I screwed my eyes shut, trying to steel myself.

Come on, Elsa, you can do this. Just one word. Just one measly, little word.

"This is my boooooo-" What was this? What was I doing here? "-oooooooooooooooo-" Why was I stretching the syllable out so friggin' long? What, had I gotten stuck? "-oooooooooooooo-" Dear god, how was there this much oxygen in my lungs? "-oooooooooo-" I didn't think there was even this much oxygen on the whole planet, much less inside my lungs. "-oooyyyyyyy-" Oh good. Progress. At this rate, I'd complete the word sometime this century. "-yyyyyyyyy-"

Anna, my divine saviour and blessed angel of mercy, jabbed her elbow into my gut.

"-friend!" I finished at last with a cough. "Boyfriend. This is my...my boyfriend. Yes. This is he. He is this." A beat. Then, "Lea! By the way. His name, that is. Yup. Lea the Boyfriend. My boyfriend. That's right, Lea is my boyfriend. My boyfriend is-"

"I think they get it, Sis," Anna hissed quietly out of the corner of her plastered-on smile.

Gee, I was getting so good at this whole lying thing, wasn't I?

"Pleased to meet ya, Gramps," Lea stretched out a hand towards him.

Grandfather didn't take it. Instead, he just stared long and hard at it. At the black nail polish and rings adorning it. Finally, he lifted his chin with a sniff and straightened his already ramrod posture even further. "That'll be Sir to you, young man."

"Oo, how formal. Whatever you say," he retracted his hand with a smirk, "Sir Gramps."

This had been a mistake, using Lea as my rent-a-boyfriend.

Actually… no, mistake would be an understatement. This was a powder keg and Lea was a goddamn burning match.

Pushing past my now rigidly stiff grandfather, Lea approached my parents next. "Pops, always a pleasure. Ma'am," he took my mother's hand in his to politely press his lips to the back of it, "lovely to make your acquaintance."

She looked slightly taken aback, blue eyes widening. However, Mother recovered quickly, delicately plucking her fingers from his grip to smooth at the tight bun her brown hair was currently up in before primly folding her hands together just below her waist. When she smiled, it was gracious but tight. "As it is yours," there was a briefest of pauses before she tacked on a hesitant, "Lea. Please, take a seat. Dinner should be ready shortly, but would anyone like a drink prepared while we wait?"

I was relieved to hear Lea answer with, "I'm good, thanks." Because a return of Wine Tipsy Lea was by far the very last thing this situation needed right now. As I declined as well, a quick look around brought to my attention the fact that we were the only two not partaking as it seemed the others had already started before we'd gotten here. Mother and Father were sipping at what looked to be some sort of dark red cabernet, while Anna retrieved her own glass and moved towards the mini bar to refill it - most likely with something sweet, fruity and potent enough to bring down an elephant, knowing her. On the low table around which all the seats gathered was a sturdy glass full of ice and an amber liquid. Probably Grandfather's. Probably bourbon.

I shifted over towards the sofa opposite the table from my parents and all three of us took a seat at the same time. Lea joined me soon after, slipping his arm around my shoulders as he flumped down into the cushions beside me. Grandfather, however, hadn't budged from where he stood since we'd entered the room. Not one inch. "Father," was all my father said to him - partially warning, partially pleading.

Grandfather's mustache twitched again and his left eye ticked. But then he moved to sit down in the armchair in front of the bourbon, snatching up the glass and sullenly nursing it.

Dear lord, this was a nightmare. No, this was Hell. That had to be it - I'd died and was now in my own little corner of the Underworld specifically designed and crafted to torture me in the cruelest way possible. I could already feel the stress burning an ulcer into my stomach and no amount of Lea's fingers lightly trailing up and down my arm would calm me down.

There was no point in putting it off, right? I should just do it now. Bring up the thing that was on all of our minds but no one was talking about. You know, the thing. The wedding thing… or rather, the whole lack of the wedding thing. I should just get this over with. Rip the bandaid off. Getting it all out in the open now had to be better than this. Anything had to be better than this… right?

Hands fidgeting furiously in my lap and this close to dislocating a finger, I licked my dry lips and managed to find my voice. "Perhaps now… we should discuss what exactly h-happened on… on my-"

"That is a topic that would be best saved for later," Father talked over me, his stern voice cutting me off. "Let us speak of other things right now."

My head rocked back at that, my forehead wrinkling. I flicked my gaze over to Grandfather briefly - who was still stewing quietly over his drink - then back to my parents. "But I thought-"

"Now's not the time, Elsa," Mother insisted firmly. "This is not a discussion that will be brief, nor will it be suitable to have over dinner. Besides, your father and I will have our hands full preparing for the party tomorrow evening, so this is a conversation that will just have to wait until the day after."

A frown tugged at my lips. "You're hosting a party?"

"For Grandfather's birthday," Anna plopped down onto the sofa beside me, freshened drink in hand. "Since, ya know, it's such a huge one. The big seven-oh. The whole family is going to be there to celebrate. And I mean, the whole family," she shot me a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she took a swig.

Oh. So that's what she'd meant earlier by "tomorrow people."

Why couldn't she have been this articulate when she'd greeted me at the door?

Mother added, "You are, of course, invited to attend the celebration as well, Lea. I know Father would be thrilled for you to join us."

Uh-huh. Sure. Grandfather looked positively pleased as punch over there at the very prospect.

"Sounds like a blast, count me in," Lea grinned.

Alright so… the birthday soirée would be tomorrow, then The Talk™ would be the day after. Roughly two days… forty-eight hours of waiting and worrying and dreading and- oh dear, I had to wonder what the world record for longest sustained panic attack might be. Start the timer, I was about to shatter that sucker.

A hush fell over the room, with the only sound coming from the clinking of the ice in Grandfather's drink accompanied by the ticking of the ancient but well-kept longcase clock in the corner. The ticking seemed to get louder with each passing second.

After one painfully long minute, Mother was finally the one to break the silence. "So Lea," she began, her eyes intent on him, "please… tell us a little about yourself."

"Where to even begin? Lessee here." Uh oh. I didn't like that little gleam he had in his eye as he rubbed a curled finger over his chin. "Well, I guess ya could say I had the kinda childhood every lil tyke dreams about: full of joy and love and the foster system." It was probably a good thing I hadn't gotten a drink because I'd probably be choking on it right now just like my parents were with theirs. "But I mean, with a druggie dad who bought the farm and a druggie mom who split outta my life first chance she got, where else was I s'posed to go?

"As for the rest after that, let's just give ya the highlights." Now he started ticking off his fingers, "College dropout. Ride a motorcycle. In a hardcore death metal band. Smoke ten packs a day." For the love of… he did remember the part about not giving my parents a heart attack, right? "Just got my thirty-day chip from AA - hey, fifth times a charm, right? Oh, I'm also a wanted felon in three different states. Wait…" he squinted one eye, pursing his lips to the left, "...make that four. Always forget about Connecticut. Which reminds me, I need to check in with my parole officer."

"He's joking!" I said quickly with a tiny, nervous laugh.

"Or am I?" he leaned forward in his seat to whisper conspiratorially, eyebrows bouncing. I pinched his arm, forcing a soft tch from him. "But let's not forget the most important thing ya need to know about me: how completely," he kissed my pinky, "and totally," another one for my ring finger, "head over heels," three more, one for each word and each remaining finger, "I am for your daughter."

Alright, you need to cool your jets, cheeks. This was all just part of the show, after all.

A show that was possibly being performed a bit too well. Grandfather's knuckles had gone so white around his glass, I was surprised the poor thing hadn't shattered into a million pieces yet.

Lea tapped his index to his lips now, "Hmmm, what else? Oh! Got a pretty cool story about this gnarly scar my half-brother gave me with a-"

"Anna!" I suddenly burst out, turning towards her at the same time I snagged Lea's hand, keeping him from lifting the hem of his shirt. She froze mid-sip, glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes. "What about you? What's new with you? You have that new boyfriend of yours, right? What about him, will he be joining us this weekend?"

Who me? Trying to change the subject? Psh, I would never!

She winced, averting her gaze and lowering her drink as she traced a finger around the rim. "Oh jeez, my…? Well... he, er… he was going to make it for dinner tonight but… something… unfortunately came up! But he should definitely be here in time for the party tomorrow, so… don't worry! Heh… I- oo, little cheeses!" she cried out excitedly as Gerda abruptly appeared once more to place a small platter of hors d'oeuvres on the coffee table. Anna immediately proceeded to stuff her face with them before pointing at her bulging cheeks and shaking her head, signaling she could no longer talk.

A crease formed between my eyebrows.

Huh… was it just me or was Anna acting kind of weird?

Maybe the tension around the room just had us all on edge, even her. Yeah, that was probably all it was.

"And you, Elsa?" Father's cool tone snapped my attention back to him. Each word that followed was slow and measured, as if he were picking them very carefully, "Tell us how you have been keeping yourself occupied during these past several weeks."

"Oh!" I gnawed on my lower lip, my fingers already tugging at my braid before I'd even realized it. "Well, I've… reconnected with an old friend - you remember Rayne from when I went to summer camp? Well she's married now with a baby on the way, can you imagine? And… and I've gotten myself a place to live and have found a job and-"

-and auditioned for a musical.

That was what I'd been about to tell them. However when I tried, the words got caught in my throat.

I knew they'd disapprove. That they'd probably scoff and wonder why I was still wasting my time on such childish, useless things. But it wasn't childish or useless, at least not to me. To me, the audition had been so important, had brought me so much happiness. I didn't want to give my parents the chance to belittle and ridicule it. I didn't want them to take this thing that was so special away from me.

So instead I released my braid and folded my hands in my lap, sitting up a little straighter as I simply said, "...and that's it really."

I could sense Lea's eyes on me. I think he knew what I'd purposely omitted. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut about it.

"So… Lea…" Grandfather spoke up suddenly, his voice dangerously low and making me flinch. "I hear you're in the…" his lip curled in a slight sneer, "...pizza business? Is that right?"

Smirking back, he slouched a bit more comfortably into his seat. "That's right. I sling dough at a lil pizza joint in the local mall food court. Great place by the name of Pizza Planet… you ever been?"

His jaw clenched ever so slightly. "No, can't say that I have. But this... Pizza Planet," he said it like those were the two most offensive words in the english language, "...is that where you see yourself working for the rest of your life?"

Lea chuckled, his hand batting the air, "Nah, that'd just be silly! No, I won't be selling pizza forever." His mouth curved into a cheshire grin, "Instead I'll be selling ice cream."

"He plans to own his own business, Grandfather," I hastily clarified.

"His own business… selling ice cream," he growled, pointer finger incessantly tapping against his glass now. "And this is how you would plan to provide for and take care of my granddaughter."

"Pardon me, Sir Gramps," there was a hint of an edge to Lea's voice now, despite his unwavering smile, "but I was under the impression that your granddaughter was her own person fully capable of taking care of herself."

You know that chilling, goosebump-inducing, hackles-raising energy you can feel crackling in the air right before a devastating storm strikes and ravages the land?

That was exactly how it felt right now in the space between Grandfather and Lea.

Luckily, Gerda appeared in the nick of time to divert the tempest by announcing, "Dinner is ready!"

"Thank you, Gerda," Mother had stood in the blink of an eye and was already making her way over to Grandfather. "If you would be so kind as to escort me, Father?"

His hard, unblinking gaze was still on Lea and for a second it seemed like he hadn't even heard her. But at last he tore his eyes away with a harrumph and put his drink back down on the table with a sharp, audible clink. "Of course, my dear," he said evenly as he rose from his own chair, offering her his arm and leading her out of the room.

I turned to Anna, but before I could say anything she'd already bolted up and around the table to grab both of Father's hands in hers. "C'mon, Dad! Walk me to dinner too!" she yanked him up, startling a soft grunt out of him as he staggered to his feet. Then she was hooking her arm through his elbow and all but dragging him out of the room with her.

What the…?

...maybe Anna was just super hungry?

"I think that went really well!" Lea chirped, giving me a thumbs up.

I merely drooped my eyelids at him and said nothing.

Later that night found me in my old bedroom. I'd deduced this was where I was expected to sleep, seeing as how this was where Kai had deposited my luggage. As suspected, Lea had been set up in one of the guest rooms further down the hall, so it was just me alone in here now.

It felt odd being back in this room. Just like it'd felt odd returning to my parent's home or going back to my old condo. I don't know, I guess I just didn't feel like I... belonged here anymore. Like I was some piece that everyone else was trying to force into the wrong puzzle, even though my edges didn't fit and the picture didn't match at all.

Sighing, I shifted in my chair to face the mirror on my vanity once more - this one a lot nicer than the one we'd scrounged up for my room back at the apartment I shared with Rayne and Riku, as you might imagine. Having just finished combing out my hair, I set my brush aside and my fingers idly went to work on rebraiding as my thoughts began to wander.

Dinner had ended up just being the sequel to drinks in the Marigold Room. My parents had continued to try and maintain some semblance of being hospitable hosts while keeping up strained conversation. Grandfather had continued to be a seething ball of barely-held-in-check fury and I don't think he'd said more than two words for the rest of the evening. Lea had continued to… well, be Lea. And as for my sister…

I quite honestly had no idea what was going on with her. Maybe it was just my imagination but it seemed every time I'd tried to talk to her, something else had always gotten in the way. Like I'd open my mouth to speak but before I could so much as make a peep, she'd already engaged Mother or Father in some new topic. Or I'd ask her a question only to have her look at me, lips pursed shut against a mouth full of food and shoulders shrugging. There was even one time where all I'd said was her name before she'd accidentally knocked over her drink. At least, I thought it'd been accidental… unless...

Could it be that she was... purposely avoiding talking to me? Had I done something to upset her? I couldn't even begin to think what. Last I'd seen her a week ago, she'd been fine. Everything had been normal between us. What could have possibly changed since?

...maybe I was just reading too much into it. It was probably just a lot of coincidence and poor timing. In fact-

There was a knock at my door just then.

Ha! Bet you that was her now. See? Nothing to worry about, I'd just been overthinking it all. Tying off my completed braid, I rose to answer the door.

And indeed, it was a redhead that I found waiting in the corridor on the other side.

Just not the redhead I'd been expecting.

"Lea?" I frowned, both my eyebrows rising.

He snerked, "Yeesh, don't act too excited to see me."

"What? No, I'm- You're just not who I-" I pressed my lips shut, heaving a small sigh through my nose. "...nevermind. What brings you here?"

"Brought ya something," he grinned and for the first time, I realized he was hiding his hands behind his back. "May I come in?"

My head tipped to the right. "Uh...sure," I opened the door wider, my bare feet stepping off to one side as I absently smoothed at my dress - the same one from dinner. Lea had arrived just before I'd been about to change for bed.

He was still in his earlier clothes as well, though he'd left behind his boots and jacket. I couldn't help but notice he hadn't taken that cute little half-tail out of his hair yet. I also couldn't help but notice the way he carefully managed to keep whatever he had behind him out of sight, even as he walked past me into the room. I closed the door and when I faced him, he hunched down to my eye level, "Ya ready?"

I crossed one hand over my abdomen and gestured with the other for him to continue.

"Ta-da!" he brought one hand forward now, revealing a little black strip lined with sharp, metal points dangling from the clasp pinched between his fingertips.

That's right. It was the spiked collar.

...whatever I'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.

My eyes blinked once. Then twice. "...you were serious? You actually have one of those?"

"Course! What, didja think I was lying? I'm offended, madame," he hmphed, putting his free hand to his breast.

I snorted with a roll of my eyes, "Well no, not lying, but more so just joking."

"I never joke about studded leather," he waggled his eyebrows at me.

Nose crinkling, I delicately poked a finger into one of the spikes. "Alright, so why exactly are you showing me this?"

Lea smirked and shrugged. "Your curiosity just seemed so piqued when I mentioned it earlier."

I gave him a flat look. "It was not piqued."

"Keep telling yourself that," he chuckled then paused, eyes crinkling. "...so you wanted to know what it looked like on me, right?"

Cheeks lightly toasted now, I scowled, "I never said-"

He wrapped the thing around his neck, holding it in place with a hand instead of fastening the tiny buckle in back.

Oh.

Oh, I see.

...it was, um… hrm, it was… interesting.

Damn it, face, be cool. That goes double for you, heart! Don't go thinking I can't hear that racket you're making down there!

"Well, I guess that's one mystery solved," was all I said as I glanced away, hand coming up to cover one cheek in a vain attempt to hide the growing blush.

"Glad I could be of service," he murmured as he (mercifully) removed the collar from his throat once more.

"...why do you even own one?" I asked, hesitantly reaching for the accessory now.

He let me take it from him. "Just a relic from my pissed-off, rebellious juvenile delinquent days that I managed to dig up again recently. What a punkass lil poser I was back then, huh?" he hummed a tiny laugh as he looked down at his feet, lightly scuffing one against the carpet.

Intrigued by it now, I turned it over in my hands as he spoke before taking it over to the mirror on my vanity. "I suppose we all try to find different ways to express ourselves when we're young. Just a part of growing up and figuring out who we are," I said distractedly as I watched my reflection bring the choker up to encircle her neck, tilting her head slightly to the left with a thoughtful frown.

"Well I guess that'd make me a-" whatever quip he'd had locked and loaded was forever lost as he made a sudden strangled, choking noise.

I looked over at him sharply, brow furrowing as I lowered the spiked collar once more. "You okay? What happened?"

His fist thumped his chest as he fought for breath, which was making his face red. "N-nothing," he wheezed, rapidly shaking his head. "Just oxygen, man. That shit'll kill ya, am I right? Heh."

I squinted at him dubiously.

Lea was such a weirdo sometimes.

He averted his gaze now, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You, uh… that choker looked good on ya. Like really, really good."

"You think so?" I frowned down at where it rested in my palm before holding it out to him, "I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Keep it," he grinned, pushing my hand back towards me. "Ya never know when you'll need one for an impromptu angry goth phase."

I smiled at that, "I think I'm in the clear. Isn't that more of a teenager thing?"

"Please. Angry goth isn't an age, it's a state of mind."

"If you say so," I snorted, but put the choker down on my vanity. I had to wonder what my parents might say if they ever discovered it in here with the rest of my things.

"So," he piped up once more, pulling my attention back to him, "this is the bedroom that sweet lil El grew up in, huh?"

As I watched Lea take a few steps further in now, it suddenly occurred to me... this was the first time a boy had ever been in my bedroom. And not just any boy - this was my crush.

Wow… it felt so highschool when I put it that way.

To be fair though, this wasn't an experience I'd ever got to have while I was actually in highschool.

Better late than never, I suppose?

I only wish it didn't make me want to squirm so much as his eyes roved over everything in here, from the big, purple, gauzy canopy bed to the embellished, oversized wardrobe and matching dresser set. From the cushy, inset bench beneath a grand window in the unique shape of a triangle to the tall, antique shelves of neatly arranged novels and DVD cases of old musicals and plays. From the small sitting area in one corner furnished with plush red chairs to the vintage Broadway posters hanging from the walls in expensive frames.

The room was not small by any means, but him being in it somehow seemed to make it shrink. Like here was this big guy that had somehow found his way into a cutesy little dollhouse room. The comparison did not make me want to fidget any less.

Trying to take my mind off it, I began, "So… earlier at drinks and dinner, did you really have to be so…" I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to find the right word. "...just so, ah…"

"So much of a grade-A jackass?" he suggested brightly. Not exactly the word I would have used, but still, I gave a slow nod and he laughed. "Remember, the whole point was for me to be a total hooligan so they didn't just think me some pushover they could boss around or scare off. Think they got that message loud and clear. 'Sides, pushing every last button of the girlfriend's folks is kinda a hallmark of being a classic bad boy."

My fingers found their way to my braid, running up and down it. "But there's a big difference between pushing a few buttons and having a deathwish."

"Aw, how sweet, you worried about lil ol' me, El?" He paused briefly in his casual perusal of my room to glance my way, flashing me that cursed dimple of his, "I'm so flattered."

I shook my head, "I just think you didn't have to go to such extremes or be quite so-"

"Gotta question for ya," he interjected, coming over to stand in front of me. "Say I had showed up on my very best behavior. The perfect gentleman, minded all my P's and Q's and was just the saintliest boyfriend to ever saint. Do you think your family would be singing my praises right about now?"

My eyes shifted about and I tried weakly, "...well… maybe if-"

"Do you truly, honestly believe that your family would ever accept a white trash lil nobody like me dating their precious princess of a daughter?" he pressed quietly yet firmly.

I tucked in my lower lip, hesitating for a long moment before a tiny grimace twisted my face and I mumbled, "Probably not, no."

Lea gave a little smile that almost seemed a touch sad before he turned away once more, returning his attention to exploring the bedroom. "Thought so. I was screwed the second I so much as dared to breathe the same air as your gramps. So if they're all gonna hate my guts whether I play the part of boy scout or hoodlum, might as well go with door numeros dos and at least have some fun while I'm at it," he chuckled.

"Fine, I see your point," I crossed my arms with a frown. "But still, you might want to tone it back just a smidge. Grandfather has munny and connections. He can seriously make you disappear."

A snerk. "I'd like to see him try. I'm one tough son of a bitch to get rid of," he muttered as he neared my bed now, reaching out a hand to poke some of the draping aside as he peeked in, "Trust me, no one axes me that easily, got it memorized? He's in for one rude awakening if he thinks he can just- gah!" he stumbled back in surprise, blinking a couple times before shifting the canopy again for a second look. "The fuck is that ugly lil bastard?!"

I rushed over, snatching up the stuffed plushie sitting atop my neatly made bed and hugging it close as I glared at Lea. "It's a snowman and shush, he's cute! Cuter than you anyway!"

His horrified gaze darted from me to the doll and back. "Dear god, I hope not!"

Sitting down on my mattress, I spun the little guy around in my lap for a better look at him - it'd probably been at least four-some-odd years since I'd last seen the plush, after all. And okay, sure, I could admit he probably wouldn't be winning any beauty contests any time soon, but give the poor, stuffed snowman a break! I had had him since I was a baby and he had had to endure more than one stitch repair job, especially with what a destructive little toddler Anna had been. Despite all that, I still thought him rather handsome with a unique, quirky charm to him.

Giving Lea a flat look and hitching my chin, I said dryly, "My statement stands."

"Wow, guess it's true what they say, beauty really is in the eye of the beholder," he grumbled, narrowing his gaze on the plushie as I snuggled it close to me once more. But then one corner of his lips quirked up and he bowed down to look me in the eye, tipping his head to one side as he murmured, "Hope I at least rate a close second."

Resident cheeks be advised: flash fire warnings are now in effect.

I held my tongue and just glanced away.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he straightened back up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So… about that big party tomorrow…"

Thank goodness, a new topic! "What about it?"

Shrugging, Lea said, "Just wanna know what to expect."

My fingers idly stroked at the snowman's head - the fabric still felt soft after all these years, even if it had taken on more of a dull gray color by now as opposed to its original pristine, snowy white. "Well… it'll probably be held in our ballroom-"

"This small palace has a freaking ballroom too?" He shook his head with a snort, "I was kidding before, but this place really is just one big damn Clue board."

Rolling my eyes, I continued, "And it'll probably be packed with all our relatives. Believe me, there are a lot of us on both sides of the family. Acquaintances too. Honestly, it'll most likely all be rather boring. Just a whole lot of mingling, maybe a speech or two, and an over abundance of food accompanied by music."

"Music…" he repeated, frowning up at the ceiling now as one hand went to the nape of his neck, tugging at the little hairs there. "So that mean there'll be dancing? Like… the fancy kind?"

I cocked my head at him. "Are you worried about having to waltz?" Resting my stuffed doll against my pillows, I stood up, "I can teach you if you'd like."

He blinked at me, expression unreadable. Then, "Alright."

I stepped over to stand before him. Now that I got close, I was reminded of just how freakishly tall the man was. My stomach did a little somersault at that and I was already regretting this decision. But it was too late to turn back now. Beating the blush back, locking it up and throwing away the key, I schooled my face into seriousness.

I was going to handle this like a professional, damnit!

"It's fairly simple really, and you've probably seen more than your fair share of it in those sappy movies you like so much. Our hands come together, like this," I joined my right with his left, holding them up to one side. "While your other hand goes…" gingerly taking his wrist in my grasp, I tentatively guided his palm to rest on my hip, hoping the action didn't seem as awkward as it had felt, "...right there." Finally, I settled my left hand on his shoulder and looked up the few inches that separated us.

Big mistake.

Jeez, having eyes as green and beautiful and heart spasm-inducing as his should've been illegal!

And being surrounded by his warm, cinnamony boy scent was not helping matters one bit.

I hastily broke eye contact, opting to look down at our toes instead. Toes are nice. Toes are safe. "It's, uh... it's very easy. You just take steps in the shape of a square. Watch my feet and follow along, I'll go slow. Forward with your left foot first," I took a step back and he moved with me, "then to the side with your right… now bring them together… Good. Then back with your right… out with your left… and together again." I took him through it a few more times without issue. "See? Simple. You're already getting the hang of it."

"I just must have a really good teacher," he said in a low hum.

"At this rate I'll soon be the one following your lead instead of… wait," my forehead wrinkled, "...you are already leading." I looked up at him suspiciously. "Did you already know how to ballroom dance?"

He smiled sheepishly, "Heh… guilty?"

"You brat, why did you tell me you didn't?" I laughed, trying to step away from him.

"I said no such thing," his hand shifted from my hip to the small of my back, not letting me escape. To be fair, I didn't try that hard. "You just assumed I didn't know how. And you know what they say when you assume," he teased as he continued to lead me in our little dance.

I scoffed in spite of the upward tug I felt at one side of my mouth. "Where did you even learn to waltz?"

"My lil secret," Lea winked. "But you know the deal. I'd be willing to give it up for one o' yours."

"You want me to give you a secret?" My eyes darted to the left. "I'm not sure I even have anymore…"

He snerked, pulling me ever so slightly closer to him. "Now I know I don't believe that. You must be able to think of at least one."

...actually yes. There was… at least one more I could think of…

That of certain feelings I was having for a certain redhead.

Sensing a small, familiar heat creeping up into my face, I cleared my throat and shook my head, still not meeting his gaze. "No… no I don't think so. Pretty sure I'm all tapped out."

He dipped his head down next to mine and I could feel him smirking against my ear as he whispered, "You wouldn't be lying to me now, would you?"

His warm breath tickled and I had to suppress a shiver. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let him know. I finally looked at him with a small, playful smile that I hoped didn't betray my hammering heart. "Come now… does this look like the face of someone who'd lie to you?"

Lea bit back a tiny, crooked grin as his eyes hooded, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of my dress. Then his lips parted, about to speak.

That was when, for the second time that night, a knock came at my door.

That must be Anna. Smile widening as I continued to stare up at Lea, I called out, "Come in."

I heard it open followed by a soft, "Oh!" that caused me to pale and my feet to stumble.

That wasn't the sound of my sister's voice.

My head whipped towards it as I stammered, "M-Mother!" This time when I attempted to break free of Lea's hold, he let me.

She stood there, posture perfect and hands clasped together in front of her. "Sorry, I didn't think you already had company."

"S'okay, I was just leaving," Lea said before pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "Night," he told me, voice low as his fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears. Apparently, he couldn't just depart without giving me one final whammy of the warm fuzzies. Jerkface. "Ma'am," he nodded to my mother as he walked past her towards my door, closing it behind him on his way out.

My gaze followed his exit before drifting over to my vanity right beside the door.

More specifically, to the spiked collar still resting on top of it.

Fudge. Had I wondered what my parents' reaction would be if they ever discovered it in here? Yes. Did I particularly need to find out the answer to that little question this very night? Hell no!

Luckily Mother hadn't seemed to notice it on her way in and her back was currently to it as she said, "That young man is… quite the character."

Funny. That's what Father had said. Almost verbatim. I wondered if my parents rehearsed these things.

"He, uh…" I sidled past her, putting myself between her and the choker, blocking her line of sight to it. Then I forced an innocent smile and a weak chuckle, "...he makes me happy."

If she thought my movements strange, she was good at hiding it. "And he seems very fond of you."

"Ah… yes, I suppose so." I casually leaned back against the piece of furniture and slipped a hand behind me, discreetly moving the offending item into one of the vanity's small drawers.

Whew! Mission Hide The Goth Contraband was a success!

The small feeling of victory swiftly waned however and I frowned. "Mother, I…" I began, only to find I had no idea what to say to her.

I hadn't had any idea for years now.

It had not always not always been like this. In fact when I'd been very little, I'd felt like I could share anything and everything with her. She'd been my biggest supporter in all things, especially in my love of the performing arts. As I'd always been such a shy child, she'd gone so far as to even encourage the activity, perhaps in the hopes that it would build my confidence and make me more outgoing.

But as I'd grown older, our relationship had changed. She became more aloof and distant. I suspect she and Father had hoped my interest in theater was just a phase, one I'd grow out of eventually. But when it seemed I wasn't going to - not on my own anyway - she'd started taking a sterner approach with me. That's when she stopped being my friend. That's when it became harder to talk to her. And it'd only gotten harder and harder with time. Things were never quite the same between us after that.

She watched me now, patient for me to continue. Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I finally settled on, "Why are you here?"

"I would think the answer should be obvious." Her small, gentle smile caught me off guard, but not nearly as much as her now stepping forward to take both my hands in hers. "I wanted a little time alone with my daughter. Away from your father and grandfather... just the two of us."

My breath hitched, my chest constricted, and before I knew it I was blurting out, "I auditioned for a musical."

Her head reeled back slightly and I winced.

Welp. So much for not letting that cat out of the bag.

I swear, mouth, I can't take you anywhere.

Waiting with bated breath, I searched her wide-eyed gaze for any clue as to what she might be thinking. Was she angry? Annoyed? Disappointed? I couldn't tell as her face gave away nothing for several long seconds. Finally though, she tipped her head to one side, "...did it go well?"

I blinked, a crease emerging between my eyebrows. "I, uh… yes, I think it did. But they won't announce casting until next week."

"I see. Well," and here she was smiling again as she leaned in closer to whisper, "we can just keep that our little secret, hm?"

...who was this woman and what had she done with Mother?

I stared at her before slowly nodding. It was all I could do. Words abandoned me at the moment. I hadn't been prepared at all for this.

And I was even less prepared for what came next.

Mother's gaze softened as she brought her hand up, cupping her cool fingers to my cheek. "That must have taken a lot of courage. I'm very proud of you."

My throat tightened and I swallowed past the lump I felt forming in it. I blinked away some tears, my voice hoarse as I somehow managed to get out, "Th-thank you… Mother."

Had I entered some sort of Twilight Zone? If so, I never wanted to leave.

She regarded me kindly for a second more before her expression turned to that of concern. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping well?"

Honestly, I hadn't. The last good night's rest I'd had was the unplanned sleepover in Lea's room. Every night since then was one night closer and closer to this weekend and whatever unspeakable horrors awaited me. Every night had been less and less dreams, replaced by more and more tossing and turning. I'd actually spent all of last night wide awake, just staring up at my ceiling until the sun had at last arisen.

So, naturally, my answer to Mother was, "Yes."

Her quiet tsk said she didn't believe me. "Come here," she turned away, walking towards my bed and lowering herself down onto it. I hugged myself, feet rooted to the spot as I stared after her, bewildered. Sitting back against my pillows and tucking in her legs, her hand patted the spot on the mattress beside her, "Cuddle close, scooch in."

Instantly I was transported back to when I was a little girl. Back to the last time I'd heard her say those words to me. My response was automatic and before I'd realized it, I'd already curled into her side and was resting my head against her shoulder.

She started humming a familiar lullaby. One she had used to sing for me all the time when I was small. It was from my favorite musical, the same one that the song I'd sang in the tryouts had been from.

This was nice. It wouldn't put me to sleep, but still, it was... nice. Comforting. Nostalgic. Her hand was lightly stroking my arm, my hair, my cheek. Then she was trailing the tip of her pinky down the bridge of my nose slowly before bringing it back up to do it again. An old trick she'd used to use to get me to pass out. Cute. That may have worked when I was a child, but I was an adult now. There's no way it could still possibly have the same effect on me now, not in a million-

Within minutes I was out like a light.

Author's Note: Ah, it's finally here! The dreaded weekend with (dun dun dun)… The Parents (TM)! Elsa's spent most of the story in Lea's KH universe, now it's his turn to spend a few chapters in her Frozen world xP Let me tell you, when I was writing outline notes for this whole story, I had very little planned for this arc at first. I had a smattering of a few vague ideas, but hardly enough to fill even so much as one chapter with! But thankfully, Frozen 2 was released, coming to my rescue and giving me a whole new host of Frozen characters to include xD Then the ideas started flowing, thank goodness! Soooooo, more F2 characters to be introduced in the chapters to come! Fun Fact: Elsa's dress this chapter (complete with lil necklace) is loosely based on the dress she wears at the beginning of F2 for the Some Things Never Change song, just picture it shorter (cuz apparently I just want to do that to all her dresses) and with a maybe slightly poofier skirt.

Next chapter, what new trial and tribulations does The Weekend (capital T, capital W) hold in store for our couple? Is there something up with Anna or she just being her normal oddball self? Was there a reason behind Mother's unexpected show of affection? Will there be trouble brewing at Gramps' bday shindig? Just who REALLY is the cuter cutie to ever cute: Lea or Elsa's wonky snowman plushie? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

#kingdom hearts #frozen #elsa #axel #fanfiction #lea #fanfic #kingdom hearts fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #kh fanfiction #kh fanfic #frozen fanfic #kingdom hearts fanfic #axelsa #fluff #romcom #slow burn #kh3 #my writing #ice cream and fire oven pizza #rare pair #crossover pairing #humor #snark #fake dating au

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 14

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. pt 9. pt 10. pt 11. pt 12. pt 13.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her (Aramour)

The girls are all getting ready to move. Kind of a fluff chapter until the end.

“Is everyone ready?” Catherine called as she loaded the last of Jane’s things into their car.

“Yeah. Are you good to follow us?” Cathy’s head popped out of their car’s trunk.

“Yes. And Anne and Katherine are following us, right?” Cathy nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, and on the way, we’re going to stop by Jane’s parents for a bit. Does that sound okay?”

“That’s fine. We’d love to finally meet the people who brought the most amazing person into the world.” Kat smiled. She really had grown attached to the blonde.

“Alright. Jane, are you ready, love?”

“Give me a second. If you expect me to drive this distance, I’m going to need to change into a pair of sweatpants.”

“You’re such a goof.” Catherine kissed the top of her head.

“Yeah,” Jane laughed. “But I’m your goof and- oh gosh was that cheesy.”

“I like cheesy though, especially when it’s you. Don’t you remember senior prom?”

“Oh my God,” the blonde groaned. “How could I forget?” Catherine began laughing.

“What happened at senior prom?” Kat came out from the house with the last of her things.

“We better get going, but if you call Jane, I’m sure she’ll tell you.” Jane nodded as she took the keys from Catherine’s hand.

What do you mean you’re not going? It’s my senior prom!” A seventeen year old Jane Seymour yelled.

“I’m just not. Why would I want to go to something this formal with someone I don’t even want to go with?”

“I guess you’re right,” Jane relented. “Henry and I will miss you though.”

“I’m sure you’ll have enough fun without me.”

“Yeah? That’s what you think,” she snorted.

The night of prom, Jane was in her room when the phone rang.

“Honey, it’s for you!” Margaret called up the stairs.

She eagerly picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey babe. I can’t make it tonight,” Henry faked sadness in his voice. “Thomas got tickets, VIP tickets, to a hockey game. I have to-”

“What the hell? It’s prom! You can’t just-”

“Babe, I know. But come on! They’re VIP tickets! You would take this opportunity if it was for one of your stupid broadway shows or whatever.”

“Whatever,” she muttered as she hung up the phone and began to change out of her dress.

She walked down the stairs in sweatpants. Margaret was ready with open arms.

“He cancelled Ma. I don't get it.”

“It’s okay. You can still go and hang out with Cath right?” Her mother seethed silently.

“She’s not-” the phone in her hand rang. “Speak of the devil. Give me a sec?” Margaret nodded and walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Why the whisper? Oh shit, is Henry there? I can let you-”

“He’s not.”

“Oh. I was just wondering why my best friend hasn’t messaged me a picture of herself in that beautiful dress yet.”

“Funny story,” she laughed bitterly. “I’m in sweatpants right now. I’m not-”

“He stood you up?” Jane nodded into the phone. “Do you have the tickets?”

“Yes,” the blonde’s voice cracked.

“Get your dress on. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Cath, you don’t have to.” The line went dead. Jane walked back to her mother. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Are you okay honey?” The younger Seymour nodded and ran to her room with purpose.

Twenty minutes later, she heard Catherine’s soft voice floating through the rafters of her house.

“Hey Cath,” Margaret called from her place in the kitchen.

“Hey Marge. Is Janey ready?”

“She’s up in her r-” Margaret froze in her tracks and turned the corner to see Catherine in a pantsuit. “You’re taking her?”

“Of course I am. Although, since I don’t attend the school anymore, I’m going to have to ask you to call the school to confirm that I am indeed allowed in.” At this point, Jane was standing at the steps, her presence still unknown.

“I’ll do that when you two leave. John! Get up here!” She turned to Catherine. “I don’t have to give you the same talk I was going to give Henry, now do I?”

“No ma’am. Back by midnight. Treat her like she’s the- treat her right.”

“Hi.” Jane smiled shyly.

“Wow,” was all the hispanic could breathe out. “You look beautiful. Like, stunning. Amazing.”

Jane paused her storytelling to Kat and turned to face Catherine. “You know,” she sighed. “No one ever called me beautiful or gorgeous besides my family before you. Henry always said I was ‘hot’ or ‘smoking’.”

“Well you better expect to be called beautiful a lot now.”

“Uh guys? Not that I don’t love witnessing your little moments, I have a feeling there’s more to the story,” Kat giggled.

After the two had taken all of the stereotypical prom photos, they were shooed out of the house.

“After you my dear.” Catherine made a grand gesture as she ushered the blonde out the door, her hand on the small of her back.

“Be smart you two,” John called out after them. Jane went to pull the door handle of Catherine’s car open when Catalina stopped her by putting a hand over hers.

“Chivalry isn’t dead you know,” Catherine quipped as she helped the girl dressed in silver into the car before jogging around to the driver’s side. “Sorry it’s not some grand-”

“Stop. It’s perfect. Going with the one person I actually wanted to go with is perfect.”

“I remember asking myself if you actually meant that.” Catherine smirked.

“I remember trying to convince myself that what I said wasn’t true, and I was trying to convince myself to not be sad. I think even then though, I knew what I said was true.”

“Do you want to dance?” Catherine held out her hand for Jane to take.

“Wait really?”

“Well, we are at a dance afterall.”

“It’s just, Henry never let's me dance. He always jokes that I can’t dance.”

“Well, I’ll let you dance. Come on, it’s just a slow dance. The last three years of waltzing with my mom are sure to pay off.” Jane laughed and followed her lead, lacing their fingers together. It was a bit tricky at first, as Catherine was used to following instead of leading, but eventually the two fell into a rhythm. She made sure to savor this moment forever, holding Jane close as they swayed slowly to the beat.

“Do you-”

“Do whatever you want weirdo. I’ll make it work,” Catherine laughed quietly. Jane slowly lowered her head into the crook of her date’s neck and let it rest there, listening to her heartbeat.

“I thought my heart was going to stop when you did that.” Catherine blushed, knotting her hand in Jane’s.

“Me too.”

After prom, the two ended up in a diner, laughing and giggling the entire time over french fries and root beer. They were getting ready to leave when Catherine was handed a lava cake instead.

“On the house,” the older waitress said. “It’s so nice to see such a young couple so in love and not caring what the world thinks. I wish it was like that when I was younger. My partner and I went through a lot of hell for a while.”

“You’re-”

“Yeah, we are. Aren’t we babe?” Jane grinned at Catherine.

“You guys are so cute. Enjoy, and seriously, everything is on the house tonight.

“Wow. Thank you so much.” Catherine left a generous tip, and the two left.

When they arrived at the Seymour house, Catherine kissed her cheek softly and smiled, “Always have to end prom night with a goodnight kiss.”

“Goodnight,” Jane kissed Catherine softly on the cheek. “Uh, Henry broke up with me over text tonight. Thank you for everything tonight.” She left the hispanic at her doorstep, Catherine’s face bright red.

“Could you imagine where we would be if Henry hadn’t asked for you to take him back?”

“Honestly, I’m not too sure. I think we finally got it right though.”

“I’ll tell you something: we would’ve been married by now. I wouldn’t have made you wait.”

“You guys are too cute,” Katherine swooned. “Alright, I’m going to hang up and try to catch up on sleep. See you guys in a little.”

“Bye love. Stay safe.”

“Thanks... mom,” Kat laughed a little at calling Jane ‘Mom’.

“Of course dear,” Jane responded without hesitation. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

After driving for quite some time, the two had been talking about anything and everything.

“Car games?” Jane asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

“Can we play the one where we make up stories for people who pass us?”

“Of course.”

Jane had been staring out the bus window for the past five minutes without saying a word.

“Janey, are you good? Phillips has been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Was asking if you’re excited?”

“Oh. I guess I just zoned out playing a mind game. I look at a car for five seconds and make up their story.”

“Oh. I’ll play?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? It sounds like fun.”

“Henry thinks it’s stupid.”

“Well, I’ll play.” Catherine didn't miss the smile on Jane’s face.

The two laughed while they made up stories.

“They’re going to meet her family. He’s super nervous, but she keeps telling funny stories to help him relax.”

“Yeah, but they have kids in the back,” Catherine pointed out.

“Well then, they’re visiting her parents, and she looks like she just got the kids to sleep, so she’s relaxed, but her husband is still nervous.”

“That sounds-” the hispanic was cut off by Jane’s phone.

“I’ve got it.” Catherine reached for the phone. “Aragon.”

“It’s Beale. Is Jane with you?”

“Yeah, she’s driving though.”

“Okay, well I have some information. We lost track of Henry. His friend Thomas Culpepper also recently went awol. We can only believe it’s to look for Jane. We suggest going somewhere else for now.”

“Already on it. Heading to another location now. Was going to tell you when we got there. Our housemates are with us too.”

“Okay. Our best wishes to both of you. Bye now.” Beale was getting more comfortable with the new couple.

“Thank you, bye.” She hung up.

“Who was that?” Jane’s eyebrows raised but her eyes stayed trained on the road in front of her.

“Beale. We’re ahead of him though, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Don’t sugar coat.”

“They lost Henry, and now they don’t know where Thomas is.”

“Of course.” Her face stayed stoic, but she began to grip the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Relax babe. It’s okay. We’re all here for you.” Catherine grabbed her partner’s hand tentatively. “Why don’t we take a break from driving for now? I’ll tell the others to pull over at the next rest stop, we can grab a bite, and then I can drive while you sleep. Yeah?” Jane nodded slightly, bile rising up in her throat at the thought of both Henry and Thomas being awol.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #aramour

[survivorparr]

the sun and her moon, part 6/8 (all you wanna do)

aka, In Which we Journey North

Ex Wives/No Way | DLUH | Heart of Stone | Haus of Holbein| Get Down

.....

Aragon rubbed her hand vigorously up and down her right bicep to dull the sharp pain.

“What the heck, Kitty??”

“Punch buggy, no punch backs!”

Aragon let out a sharp gust of air as she flicked her eyes towards the ceiling of the van, then retrained them on the green hillside whizzing by outside the window.

Behind her, Anna and Parr were deeply engaged in an argument about whether John Dowland or Hans Gerle had been the better lutenist. The air was filled with a faint, sweet melody coming from Jane, humming in the driver’s seat.

And folded in upon herself in the back seat, eyes aimed at the window but certainly not paying attention to the scenery, was Anne. The events of last night danced in her mind’s eye:

“Are you alright, Cath?”

“Yes - no - I don’t know. Yes, I’m fine”.

“‘I don’t know’ isn’t yes. Tell me what you’re thinking”.

She had taken one of Cathy’s small, warm hands in hers. There was no sound except the pounding of her own heart. Then:

“I just... think I need a minute to think”.

“God Cath, I’m so sorry, I just assumed - in the bar - I thought there’d been a moment and I -“

Cath squeezed her hand hard. “There was. There was a moment. And... I want there to be more moments, a lot more. It’s just... I’ve never... been with a woman before”. Her eyes shone and she seemed to be wrestling with her own mind in order to get the words out. Anne suddenly felt the absence of Cath’s hand in hers as she retreated onto her bed.

“I’m so sorry, Anne. It’s just that you mean the world to me, and if I can’t manage to come to terms with... feeling this way about you, and something goes poorly, I just don’t know what I’d-”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, okay? Promise. Go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning”.

“Actually... could you stay a minute?”

Anne’s chest had tightened, but then she’d seen how small Catherine looked, how vulnerable. She’d crawled onto the bed and molded Cath into her empty spaces, running her fingers through her thick curls.

Thick curls that were now covering the back of a head sitting as far away from her as possible. Not a word was spoken between them all through breakfast, or all through the long drive to Leeds. Anne supposed perhaps Cathy was just nervous to be returning close to home for the first time since they’d come back, but she’d been chattering nervously to the other queens all morning (she and Anna were now debating the merits of the hurdy-gurdy as an instrument, for Christ’s sake). Anne turned up the volume of her headphones to drown it all out, hoping this would have some effect on the heaviness in her heart.

The whirring of the greenery and buildings outside came to a sudden slow, and then finally, a stop. Anne pulled out an earbud to get an idea of what was going on.

“...completely sure? It’s really no trouble, Parr, we can drive you out to York”.

“That’s alright, Jane, the train will be fine. If you lot come with me, I’ll just chicken out and turn us back around”.

“If you’re definitely sure, then. Good luck with your grandmother!”

Anne’s eyes widened. Grandmother... She suddenly remembered how last week, in the middle of French Film Friday, Cath had paused Amelie to ask whether Anne thought anyone else from past times might’ve been brought back to life. “We’d better hope not, otherwise, we might get run off the stage by a country band made up of Prince Albert’s five daughters,” she’d joked.

Stupid. She mentally slapped herself on the wrist. Some kind of friend you are.

Thoughts bubbled up in Anne’s mind more quickly than she could process them - I’ll go with her, I’ll apologize, I’ll—

By the time she was on her feet, Catherine’s blue sweater had disappeared into the crowd outside the train station.

...

Cath tightly gripped the crumpled sheet of lined yellow paper as she walked. She glanced again at the words printed in her own flowery scrawl: 456 Ravensworth St, York. They had not changed since the last time she’d looked (which had been about 54 seconds ago). She knew she had about a minute and a half to compose herself. God, why was she so nervous to meet a woman she’d never even known?

She supposed that was what made it so strange, though. Most girls didn’t get to come back from the dead and meet their long-lost grandmothers who had also supposedly come back from the dead. She felt her ribcage rise as she drew in cold air through her lips. Ravensworth Street. There was no turning back now.

She surveyed the houses on the right side of the street, attempting to estimate which one would be 456. Her eyes fell upon beautiful brick buildings, perfectly trimmed hedges, and-

“Anne???”

Cath rubbed her eyes with her fists, but when she stopped, Anne was still perched on the stone wall of a lawn about four houses down.

Without thinking, Cath broke out into a jog. She stopped in front of the tall iron gate.

“What the hell are you doing here? I said I was fine on my own”.

“I know you are. You’ve always been fine without anyone”.

The words stung, and Cath shifted her weight uncomfortably.

“How did you even beat me here?”

Anne shrugged nonchalantly. “Trains are slow, Cleves drives fast”.

Cath’s jaw dropped a little. Jane never let Cleves drive - the queens had decided she was a hazard to public safety.

“Look, you say the word and I’ll go back to the hotel, I promise. I just thought... I came here because... I know that this is a big deal for you, and I know you don’t need me, but I wanted you to know that you don’t have to do this alone if you don’t want to”.

Anne looked at Cath’s face for any hint of what she might be thinking, but found she could not read the intense gaze, furrowed brow, or parted lips.

“You know what, I’m sorry. Clearly this is personal for you, and I’ll go”.

Anne gathered her bulky messenger bag under her arm and pulled herself up off the wall.

“Wait. Anne”.

She waited for Cath to say more, but Cath simply held out a slender hand. A wave of relief washed over Anne. She took Cath’s hand, and pulled open the gate with her other.

...

“A frog? Truly, Grandmother?”

“I swear it on my life! Oh, the whole castle could hear Uncle Richard hollering. Then, he ran about the halls in just his nightclothes! Lady Anne and I were absolutely beside ourselves”.

“That’s absolutely brilliant, Lady Fitzhugh! I might have to try it out myself on a certain Spanish queen”. Anne waggled her eyebrows mischievously at Cath, who exaggerated an eye roll and then chuckled and smiled brightly.

“Please, dear, Elizabeth is just fine. Any friend of my granddaughter’s is a friend of mine”.

Anne grinned, and she realized she felt lighter than she had in a while. Her own grandmothers had been distant, much too busy conniving and calculating to pay her much mind.

“We appear to be out of tea cakes”.

“Appearances aren’t everything, darling. In the kitchen, cooling on the bottom rack of the oven”.

Cath rose from her seat and disappeared from the room in search of the pastries.

Anne struggled ungracefully with the too-large bite of ham sandwich in her mouth. When she had finally swallowed it, she turned to Lady Fitzhugh.

“Thank you again for allowing me to stay for lunch. I know you were only expecting one guest, and we didn’t mean to put you out. Or rather I didn’t mean to, Cathy had nothing to do with it, honest. Anyways, I really appreciate it”.

“Oh hush, it was no trouble at all. Do you know how often an old bag of bones like myself receives visitors? You’ve been nothing but a pleasure, dear. Besides, anyone who loves Catherine the way you do is welcome in my home any time”.

“Oh, I don’t - err - I mean, she’s not, uh, we’re not-”

“I know exactly what you are. You are her sun, and she is your moon. The Catherine that I watched over and protected from the beyond was wise and kind, but so tentative and full of doubt. But now, with you, she has an ease I’ve never seen in her. She seems... strong, and sure. Now, I can’t speak to who you might have been, but I can see the way you look at her. Like all your life, you’ve been running at breakneck speed, and you’ve finally found a place you can rest”.

For once, Anne had no words.

“I know my granddaughter. You may make her more spontaneous, but she still overthinks everything. She always comes around in the end, though. Until she does, you just keep standing by her, and she’ll stand by you. None of the rest of it matters in the end, you’ll see”.

Lady Fitzhugh smiled reassuringly. Anne suddenly felt warm, her clothing too bulky. Pulling at her sweater, she whispered, “Thank you”.

“Found them! Grandmother, do you have the recipe for these?”

“I do! Remind me and I’ll write it out for you before you leave”.

“Thank you! What were you two talking about then?”

“Nothing, dear”. Lady Fitzhugh winked at Anne. “Just the moon”.

...

“Alright, so we’ve seen the river where you and your sister used to skip rocks, the tree where you broke your arm climbing with your brother, and the tower where you studied French. Next up on the Cath’s Classics tour is...? Where are we, then?”

A ribbon of crystal blue water lazily burbled beneath the warped wood under their feet. Sunlight fell golden on dappled leaves that hid the two of them from the outside world.

“This is where I used to sit and write. It was my favorite spot - the only place that was just mine”.

Cath‘s legs felt heavy as they dangled from the edge of the bridge. Anne looked around and then lowered herself awkwardly down next to where Cath sat.

“Until now”.

“Mmm. Until now”.

The two of them sat there in silence. Catherine looked at their images reflected in the water, edges blurred, bending and blending together.

“Why did you come today, Anne?”

“I told you. I thought you might’ve been nervous, and-”

“I mean, why do you keep coming back for me? I’m always messing up, pulling away, doing the stupidest things. All the queens know it, I can tell. It’s like I’m broken or something, and I just... don’t know how to be happy. You’re not like that. You’re... magnetic, and people like you, and you’re... good, just way too good for me. So why did you come?”

Cath was finally able to bring herself to look at Anne’s face. When she did, she was confused by the deep frown and hurt eyes she found. She thought she’d said nice things...

“Is that what you think, Cath? That you’re too broken for me? I’m the broken one. God, I’m so scared of being abandoned that I cling too much, or I self-sabotage when someone gets close. I am constantly trying too damn hard to be the thing that everybody wants while simultaneously keeping them all at arm’s length. Except for when I’m with you”. She reached out her hand and swept her thumb across Cath’s cheekbone. “Being with you feels like getting home and putting on sweatpants after a two show day”.

Cath furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Err - what I mean is, when I’m with you, I don’t have to try so hard. It just feels comfortable. I think you might be the only one who knows who I am. Look, I know that these feelings are confusing for you, and that they go against everything you’ve ever believed. But you can have all the time in the world to figure it all out, because I’m not going anywhere”.

The space between their bodies diminished, and Anne kissed Cath’s forehead gently.

“All I want to do is be with you”.

.....

A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL I’m sorry this update took SO long, this summer has been a certified Mess. But here she ism and she’s long to make up for it - I hope you enjoyed! One part and an epilogue left - almost time to wrap this motha up!

Tags (copied from the last update in case you still wanted!):  @mimymomo  @supernova-nightmare@allthequeensdeservedmore@demidoubter @alexs-galaxies @sweet-sappphic @sarahzarahh @musical93 @six-aimie @imborrrrrrrr 

#the sun and her moon #nic's fics #six the musical

[doedreamss]

The Cowboy and the Mustang (Part Two)

!! READ PART ONE HERE !!

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Jane (FOC)

Summary: Jane’s decided to carpe that diem and linger in the small Montana town for a night, intent on meeting the handsome cowboy Adam Page for drinks at the local bar.  Their already complicated relationship gets even more so. 

Rating: Explicit (there’s a descriptive smut scene)

Length: 8,308  words

Available below the cut or on AO3 HERE

Harry’s Bar was the only place open passed five o’clock in the evening on a weekday in the tiny Montana town they were stopped in.  The heavy, big wood doors were propped open to help let some cool, fresh air into the packed inside.  Laughter, music and general chatter spilled from within bathed in yellow light.  It tried to touch the few groups of patrons who’d ducked outside for a smoke and laughed and took pauses as they sucked in deep breaths and poured smoke up into the sky.

As Jane and Kate made their way down the sidewalk toward the open doors, one of the men smoking reached to pinch the brim of his white cowboy hat and dipped his head respectfully. He was handsome enough for Kate’s eyes to linger, and she wore a smile as mischievous as his quickly became. She lifted her hand and gave her fingers a little wave at him before turning away and walking with Jane into the bar.

“I don’t know how you do that so effortlessly.”

“Do what?”

“Wrap men around your finger with just a look.  It’s like a superpower.”

Kate laughed, but Jane could tell she was flattered by the compliment.  She was wild and adventurous, far more so than Jane, and often thrived on playing games with the men who tried their luck with her.  Jane wondered if Kate would ever actually find someone captivating enough to keep her interest for long.  She moved through men like she was going through seasons, never completely satisfied with who she found.

“The way that handsome blond-haired cowboy was watching you earlier, I’d say you have a bit of that superpower yourself.”  Kate teased as they sidled up to the bar and Jane blushed immediately, still unable to believe she’d somehow caught his attention enough for him to ask her out for a drink. Jane turned away from the bar, scanning the crowd to see if she could see Adam anywhere.  They’d run a little late.  It was already a half-hour past when he’d said he’d be here.  What if he thought she’d decided not to come and left?

“You know how bad I am with this kind of stuff,” Jane said, frowning as she failed to spot him among the crowd, “you know how atrocious some of those dates you’ve forced me to go on have been.”

Kate made a small, sympathetic murmur of agreement.

“This was weird Kate,” Jane said, shaking her head and glancing back at her friend.  Thankfully on the opposite side of the bar from the juke box and dance floor, the girls didn’t need to yell at one another to have a conversation.  “I’ve never felt like this before with any guy I’ve been with.”  She blinked and met Kate’s eyes.  “It’s a little scary.”

“Okay buttercup,” Kate said, taking a breath and reaching out to comfortingly rub Jane’s shoulders, “I think you might be close to spinning out about this and ruining something great for yourself.  It’s scary, yes, but it’s also exciting, right?  We said this trip was going to help us learn something about ourselves, didn’t we?  You owe it to yourself to at least have a drink with him and see where the night takes you.  If you wind up going home with him, well… we can call this a huge success.”

“Wait, aren’t you going to stay here with me?”

“No!  Besides,” Kate jerked her chin over Jane’s shoulder, “handsome cowboy dead ahead.”

“What?”  Jane asked and turned to look.  Adam was walking toward her, through the crowd.  As soon as their eyes met, he lit up in a smile that made her heart race.  She looked back and saw Kate ducking through the crowd, making her way toward a cowboy lingering near the dance floor.  Kate winked and grinned, to which Jane rolled her eyes and glanced back at Adam as he approached.

He was wearing a vintage western style long-sleeve button-up, pitch black with bold, shiny gold embroidery.  A large gold belt buckle held his leather belt closed, and she imagined when he sat it would bite gently into the soft fat on his stomach.  The belt was strapped through a pair of perfectly fitted black Wrangler jeans and the ensemble was completed with a black cowboy hat on his let-down blond curls and black-dyed ostrich leather boots.  

Damn.  The man knew how to dress to impress.  Jane suddenly worried her boho-style, flowy white and floral print dress with her brown leather cowgirl boots wasn’t enough.  If she’d known she was going to be meeting an attractive cowboy for a date, she might have thought twice about what outfits she needed to pack before she started this road trip.

“Jane, you look… amazing.” His country drawl stalled for a moment as astonishment warmed his tone.  He hesitated with his hand, it’d been clear he wanted to slide it along her hip with familiarity, as if they’d been dating for ages, and pull her in to press her body along his.  But he remembered how much they were practically strangers and stopped instead, letting the flicker of want to play out across his face.  They shared a hug that was all too brief instead and smiled shyly at each other.

“No!  You look, I mean,” Jane waved her hand up and down him, “Wow.”  Could she sound any more stupid?  This was what she’d meant when she told Kate she didn’t have what she had with men. Kate would have said something suave enough to knock Adam off his feet.

Adam grinned anyways and managed to somehow look a little bashful, which only endeared Jane to him more. “I’m sorry I’m late by the way,” he began, brows dipping further inward.  “I hope you weren’t waiting too long?”

“Oh!  No, I wasn’t.  Kate and I were running a little behind anyways, so it kind of worked out.”

“Alright!  Come on, let me buy you that whiskey I promised you.”

Adam stepped up at the bar and slammed the flat of his palm against the bar top, drawing the attention of the bartender who’d been distracted joking around with a few other patrons.

“Adam!  Let me get your beer,” the bartender said with a grin, happy to see Adam, and turned to grab a glass.

“Actually – wait, Wade, instead of the usual, can I get two glasses and a bottle of… hell, whatever whiskey you’d recommend.”

“Oh?  I can’t remember the last time you drank with anyone other than yourself.  Which sucker did you offer to buy booze for tonight?”  Wade asked and swept his eyes over to Jane who was standing beside Adam. Something seemed to click, and his gaze flashed a little wider back on Adam. “Oh… Oh, alright.  Sure Adam.”  He turned, fighting a smile as he went to fetch them glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

Why did Adam always drink alone?  Why was it such a surprise for the bartender to see him with her?  Jane glanced toward Adam’s profile with a gently confused frown across her brow, but he didn’t turn toward her or say anything.  She decided it must be a topic he didn’t want to discuss.

After getting the glasses and bottle, they found a secluded booth toward the back of the bar, tucked away from the music and the dance floor where they could drink and talk with some privacy.  Adam poured a splash of deep, golden whiskey into each glass and handed hers before lifting his own.

“We should say cheers to something.”

“Alright,” Jane agreed, frowning, “cheers to…Whiskey, the horse that brought us together.”  

“Actually,” Adam lifted a finger from his glass and pointed it at her, “he told me his name, and it isn’t Whiskey.”

“Oh no?”  Jane grinned.  “What did he tell you his name was?”

“Lucky.”  Adam replied, and there was a bit of softness there. “We both figured he must be my good luck charm if the same day I got him and started working him was the day you showed up.”

Jane’s cheeks were warm as she glanced at the cowboy sitting across from her.  A smile turned the corner of her lips before she softly decreed, “Cheers to random moments that lead us to something unexpectedly wonderful.”

Adam was smiling too, and he raised his glass toward hers, clinking them gently.  “Cheers.”

After they’d each taken a sip and admired the smooth depth of the whiskey – Adam had waved his hand at Wade and complimented his choice– they fell into easy conversation.  At first it was the basic stuff.  Jane learned Adam had grown up in this town but moved away when he went to college.  He’d come back a few years ago to be close to his parents again, and for a moment he went a little quiet, and Jane suspected that wasn’t the only reason he’d decided to come home.  She wondered what could have happened to him.  

Before she had the opportunity to think about prying further, Adam had turned a new question on her, wondering where she was from.  Jane had told Adam she was from Oregon.  They talked about the mountain, the forests, how she’d come to love horses and how he’d come to love them; Adam had been raised around horses, his father had tamed wild horses just like Adam did now, and that’s where he’d learned it from.  Jane had always wanted a horse but came from a family that couldn’t afford one.  She’d studied horses from afar and been lucky the few times her parents had the money to put her in riding lessons.  She’d eventually earned scholarships for school and worked hard to keep herself exactly where she wanted to be. Adam found that admirable, and she’d blushed and chewed at her bottom lip when he rained the sweetest compliments on her.

The night continued as they drank and laughed and talked and drank.  The more time passed and the drunker they both got, the more times they stopped talking to wander toward the dance floor.  Adam would pinch her hips with his broad palms and pull her in tight against him and get a little bit braver every song they went out to.  The next time he spun her, his hand slid firm and with purpose down the curve of her ass.   As his fingers gripped into the fat he hissed in a hard breath through his nose, lips pressed in a thin line together and jaw clenched.

Jane swallowed thick; her body pressed up against his.  The room was spinning and warm.  She felt sticky with sweat.  She curled her fingers into his shirt and looked up into his hungry face.  “Can we step outside?  I think all the dancing is… getting to me.”

“Of course, darlin,” Adam said softly and put an arm around her waist as he walked her outside the bar.

The cool night air was exactly what she needed to steady her racing heart.  She smiled over at Adam, tilting her head at how pretty he looked beneath the sign’s neon light.  He’d tugged his hat off and run his thick fingers through his long, curly blond hair, and it made her want to do it, too.  She giggled.

“What?”  He asked, watching her curiously.

“I just can’t believe how handsome you are.”

“Ah, I…”  He grinned and ducked his eyes down, giving her that sweet reaction she’d grown to love since she’d seen how shy he’d get. “Thank you.  Means a lot, especially coming from a woman as beautiful as you,” he managed, glancing up at her and smiling as though dazed.

“God… you are too much.” The last words Jane managed before she flung herself forward, drunk and crashing her body into his thick, sturdy frame before laying her arms across his broad shoulders.  Her lips smashed against his.  His shocked surprise melted away quick and soon he was kissing her back with as much need as she’d demanded from him, if not more.  Desperation paused at the edges of his touch, like he’d been a man starved of affection for too long and was having trouble holding himself back from devouring it all at once.

It’d been a long time since Jane had been kissed, let alone like this.  Adam’s hands were all over her body and he’d backed her against the brick wall to the bar, digging his hips up against hers.  He was rough, but somehow Jane still knew he was doing everything he could to hold back, and he could be rougher.  The way that storm brewed inside him and he tried his best to contain it made her heart pound.  Adam pressed his tongue into her mouth and a soft moan vibrated in her throat as he dug his hips up between her legs.

A few snickers and whistles from down the way quickly reminded them both they weren’t alone.  Adam jumped away from her as though she burned – or he burned her – and blinked until he’d cleared himself of the haze their desire had laid over them.

“I –”

“Are you sober?” Before he could get through his thoughts, Jane pressed, knowing exactly what she wanted now.  She’d never felt this way before and Kate had been right. She was going to take full control of this experience and she had a feeling Adam needed to let go too.

“No.”

Jane suppressed a groan, knowing she was still too drunk to safely drive.  “Please tell me this town has a cab service.”

“Actually, on Friday and Saturday nights, old Earl runs a little complimentary service to give free rides to people who can’t drive themselves home.”

“Oh, perfect.  Can we…” she realized then that she didn’t want to bring him back to the hotel room.  What if Kate had gone back early?  What if she already had someone there?  What if she arrived there later when Jane and Adam were… busy?  She felt awkward, suddenly, realizing she was essentially inviting herself over to his place.  “I mean, if you wanted to,” she stumbled out through kiss-swollen lips that still tasted like him, “I figured I could come to your place and we could… keep… going.”

Adam looked at her for only a moment and then nodded quick.  “Yep.  C’mon.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and quickly hit a number, dialing the man who offered rides and letting him know how much they’d appreciate one.  As soon as he hung up the phone, he was pulling her toward him, letting her body gently crash and settle against his.  His hand slid greedy down her backside and rested against the side-curve of her ass.  

“I don’t really do this.” Her alcohol loose tongue spilled the beans but before she could be embarrassed, Adam was nodding.

“I don’t either.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Jane said, tilting her head and looking up at him.  “You’re… ridiculously handsome, you’re sweet, you’re funny… wait, did I say how hot you were?”

“I think handsome counts toward that.”

“No.  No, handsome and hot are two things.  You are both.”

“You’re quite the flatterer when you’re drunk.”

“And it’s adorable how shy you are about your good qualities, but also very frustrating. Stop dodging my compliments, cowboy.” Jane pressed up on the tip of her toes and pecked a quick kiss against his lips.  They smiled at each other when she pulled away.

“Actually, Jane, I –” Adam began, but Jane shook her head firmly.

“Nu-uh.  I said no arguing.”

“I wasn’t, I needed to tell you –” but before it could register that Adam was talking, someone honked their car horn behind her, and Jane jumped to look at an old man in a pick-up waving his hand toward them.

“Hey Adam!”  It must’ve been Earl, the man who was going to give them a ride.  Jane grinned and, hand in Adam’s, turned to head toward the truck.  Adam didn’t follow.

“Wait, Jane, before we go, I needed to tell you –”

“Adam,” Jane said as she turned back toward him.  “Whatever you have to say won’t change my mind.  I… there’s something about you, about the way I feel about you, that I just can’t explain.  I’m always logical, I always follow the path I can clearly see.  I told Kate I wanted to learn to take risks and be brave, and I think fate led me here at the right moment so I could meet you.  I don’t want to think about what tomorrow morning means, or that eventually I’m going to have to leave.  I just want to be in the moment with you.  Tonight.  Please?”

Adam drew in a breath; he opened his mouth but seemed lost for words.  His hand squeezed hers tight before nodding and following her toward the waiting pick-up truck.

Somehow Adam managed to hold a casual conversation with Earl on the short drive back to his property. Earl shot a few questions at her which Jane managed to answer despite being distracted eyeing Adam every chance she got.  She needed those firm hands on her body again.  She needed his mouth searing kisses into her skin.  She needed to feel him pull her close as if every second they spent apart was a kind of torture for him to endure.  That passionate storm was inside him, and Jane wanted to be the one he unleashed it on.

She needn’t suffer long, since the town was small, and Adam’s small ranch wasn’t too far outside the main streets.  Earl pulled the truck into the driveway and let Adam know to give him a call if he needed a ride to get his pick-up the next day.  He bid farewell to Jane and told her it was a pleasure meeting her. As he rolled his pick-up truck out of the driveway, leaving them standing hand-in-hand in front of Adam’s house, a horse nickered gently from the pine-wood arena.

“Looks like we woke Lucky up.” Adam said with a grin, gesturing toward the bay colt who stood at the fence, watching them with ears perked.

“Sorry Lucky!” Jane waved, and Lucky snorted, bobbing his head and giving another rumbling nicker.

“He’s telling you,” Adam whispered playfully, and jane laughed.

“I said sorry!”

Lucky snorted, swished his tail against his flanks and turned around, clearly deciding he’d heard enough and was done talking with her.

“Come on,” Adam whispered in her ear, pressing his lips against her neck.  “Let’s go inside.”  He turned her toward the door, fishing into his pocket for the house keys.

After fumbling a little with the lock, Adam managed to open the door and the pair of them spilled into the living area without any grace.  The door slammed shut as she pushed him into it and fell against him, lips hot on his and tongue slipping in his mouth.  Adam groaned, fingers pinching her skin and tracing over her curves. Jane’s hands dropped between their bodies, and her fingers brushed the shape of his cock, semi-hard and trapped in the tight denim of his jeans.  Adam grunted and clenched his jaw, pouring a hot breath out of flared nostrils.

“God woman,” he managed in a tight voice as she ran her fingers up and down its shape, teasing more blood to fill it.

Drunk and giddy on the boldness inside her, Jane kept pushing the more Adam responded.  She tugged his shirt from his jeans and slipped her fingers up beneath the material where she could feel his warm skin.  Adam groaned.  His wide palms skimmed down her backside until they could grip and squeeze into the fat on her ass.  He pushed her into him, and Jane went without a fuss.

While she had been the one to lose control initially, Adam turned the tides quickly.  He pushed off the door and bullied her willing body backwards, one hand lifting to the back of her hair, guiding her mouth against his. His tongue pushed into her mouth just as the arm of the couch touched the back of her knees.  Adam didn’t stop and they toppled over, him falling as a shadowed blanket over her body.  Their laughter and giggling were breathless and short-lived as their mouths crashed together again.

A knee between her legs parted them, and Adam’s hips sank dominantly.  He pressed the bulge of his hard cock, painfully trapped beneath his denim jeans, against the rucked-up fabric of her flowy dress and the cotton of her panties.  He thrusted and groaned.  Jane’s eyelashes fluttered, chin jutting out toward him as the back of her head pressed into the couch cushion she was laid on.  When his mouth left hers – he panted in warm breaths above her as he grinded between her legs – Jane moaned unashamedly.  It melted into a needy whine, and her fingers left his thick, muscled arms to run down the shape of his back, nails pushing into the material of his shirt.

Adam lowered his mouth, caught her lips greedily and with enough force to bruise, but didn’t stay long. He left her lips tingling as he began to kiss along her jawline and down her neck.  Jane’s hands went to the buttons on his shirt, eagerly and blindly slipping them out of their holes until the material hung open.  Her fingers were immediately on his chest, smoothing down the firm shape of his pecs and over the soft fat on his stomach that lay atop the firm muscle below.  She arched her nails into his skin just to feel him tremble, and to hear him moan against her as he took his mouth from her collarbone.

Pushing his palm into the couch for leverage, Adam lifted himself off the couch and away from her.  He stood, breathing in great, heaving gasps, with his shirt hung open at his sides and showing that delicious torso and chest underneath.  His cock was a hard and thick defined shape trapped in his Wranglers.  His long, fluffy blond curls had been tousled by her greedy fingers and lay in wild directions around his face.  He reached down, easily grabbing her up and swinging her over his shoulder.  He was strong…  Jane squealed and laughed, kicking her feet out. “C’mon, wild thing.  I think it’s time you were tamed.” He said while playfully jostling her up and onto his shoulder.  He reached with the hand not holding her and smacked her ass.  Hard.

“Adam!”  Jane squealed, gasping at the soft sting of contact that made her nerves sing.

Adam chuckled with a raspy breath and kicked the door to his bedroom open with his boot, walking quickly across the open space to dump her gently onto the bed.  Jane bounced into the soft give of the mattress, laughter in her mouth as she turned on the duvet and laid herself out in front of him.  The flowy, flirty material of her dress had ridden up her thighs and left them bare and pale for him to look at.  Adam stood at the end of the bed, knees brushing its edge, and stared down at her with his blue eyes gone black in hunger.

Jane had never had a man look at her like that, let alone one who looked like Adam.  She was breathless, skin flush and patched with red from where his mouth, tongue and teeth had already tasted her all down her neck and over the soft cleavage of her breasts.  Lying out on his bed, Jane propped herself up on her elbows as Adam slowly began to strip from his clothes in front of her.  He pushed the shirt still hanging open off first, revealing those thick, work-muscle curved arms, broad chest and thick torso.  His fingers fell to his belt buckle next, which caught a shimmer of light from the moon outside when he tugged it from the clasp and left the leather of the belt hanging open in his well-fitting jeans.  

She drew a breath as he slipped the button free on his jeans, tugging the stiff denim off his hips. She could easily see the thick bulge of his cock pressed hard and needy against his boxer-briefs, tip of the head skimming the elastic band.  He hooked them on his thumbs and tugged, pulling them down his thick, blond-hair dusted thighs.  His cock swung forward, heavy, and he grunted before sighing with relief at finally having no restrictions holding it tight.  He was big… bigger than Jane had ever been with (not that she’d been with many men to compare him to).  Her eyes widened, and she forced herself to pull them from his cock, so their eyes could meet.

Jane swore the alcohol should have all but burned up in her veins but thought she must still be at least buzzed for the bravado she suddenly grasped.  Beneath the steadfast eyes of a handsome, naked blond-haired angel cowboy in front of her, Jane slowly pushed herself up on the bed until she was on her knees.  She reached down, grabbing the material of her dress, heart pounding in her throat and skin hot.  Forcing herself to hold his eyes, Jane pulled it upright slowly, pulling the fabric away until she was kneeling in front of him in her cute matching set of baby blue and white pinstripe bra and panties.  She didn’t stop or hesitate, even when Adam’s tongue wet his lips in anticipation and made the muscles in her belly squeeze tight.   She twisted an arm behind her back and easily popped the clasp to her bra, shrugging the material off completely.  Her fingers went to her panties.

“Wait,” he could barely talk, his throat was so tight, but that command fell hard between them.  She watched his large chest rise and fall with needed breaths and slowly pulled her hands away from her hips.

Adam leaned his weight onto the bed, setting his bare knees atop the duvet.  He crawled over her and Jane laid back until her head was on the pillows and he was a dark shadow above her.  Horses, the outdoors, a faint wisp of unoffensive cologne and the clean smell of whatever he used for his curly, blond hair drifted off him and wrapped itself around her.  She sighed into it, too wrapped up in the emotions to realize that though they were practically strangers, that smell made her soul feel as if she was home.

His fingertips lay gentle touches on her body, down her arms, along her sides, to her hips.  They stilled in the elastic of her panties, and Adam pressed his lips against hers, suppressing a groan on her tongue as he pulled that last bit of clothing that lay as a barrier between them.  As soon as they were cast aside, his hands returned to her body, skimming her curves, fingers curling in to where fat naturally rested on her figure and giving it a greedy squeeze.  His calloused palms slipped from her ass to her breasts, where he devoted time, tongue, and touch to making her nipples hard and her moans sing one after the other from her caught-open mouth.  Jane arched her back toward his touch and reached to slip her fingers into his blond curls, pulling tight.

His mouth popped wet off her right breast, the skin tingling from where his beard had gently scratched it. One hand was used to prop his large body over her, so he didn’t squish her beneath his weight, but the other reached so his thumb and forefinger clasped her chin.  Adam turned her eyes toward his – barely discernible, but for the moonlight pouring in the window to the left of the bed – and slowly lowered his hips between her parted legs.  His cock skimmed her thigh before the head pressed at the warm, wet, tender lips between her legs.  He found where she parted, their eyes locked, and his open mouth poured a warm, long moan over her as he slowly sank inch after inch inside her.

Only once there was no more room left for him to press in did Adam release her chin.  He dipped and smeared his lips over hers.  His tongue pushed into her mouth at the same time he drew his hips back and pushed in again.  His moan was a vibration in against her tongue and to hear it made her eyes want to roll.  Jane arched toward him, taking him more eagerly at his next thrust.  Together, they found a pace that drew passionate moans spilling freely from her kiss-swollen lips and ones from him in hot, heavy breaths above her.

For a moment, that’s what it was.  Fucking. The pair of them lost in the sensation of being in that intimate, special place with someone their hearts were deeply moved by.   Jane watched him over her, what she could see of him in eyes adjusted to the dark and moonlight spilled through glass pane.  She watched the hard dip of his brow, the intense dark of his blue eyes staring down at her, and the jerk of his gold curls over her, the ends just brushing her bare shoulders every time he thrust inside.  She could feel how tight she was around him.  How wet.

Adam’s eyes met hers, and they were pulled back into the moment and away from their individual, romantic thoughts.  Adam’s hips slowed, and each stroke was full, languid, and enjoyed.  He dipped, brushing his lips across hers with a brief touch that sent tingles through them.  Once.  Twice. He teased these kisses, but never fully pressed his mouth against hers.  She ached for it.  The tips of her brows pulled inward and the noise she made became half a moan, half a whine.  Adam responded with a chuckle that was merely a breath and sank into kissing her as deeply and fully as she’d wanted.  His tongue stroked hers as his cock pressed inside, and she moaned, arching beneath him.

Only when their lungs were near starved of air did their lips break, and each drew desperate, shared breaths as Adam’s forehead pressed against hers.

“Jane,” he moaned, and to hear him say her name nearly pushed her to the edge.

“Oh,” she whined, brow pinched tight, face warm with his breath, “Adam… Adam…”

The slow pace dissipated as he pulled them toward delectation, his hips swinging wildly into hers, their moans and grunts and panting mixing together.  Sweat stuck their skin close and blood sang through their veins, every nerve in their bodies on fire, sensitive to the faintest touch.  Jane’s eyes closed tight, her mouth hung open, and the velvet muscles wrapped around his cock squeezed tight before, victim to the whims of her body, she went still as stone.

“Adam!”  One last cry strangled from her throat as the crash came. Fireworks behind her eyes.  Jane’s thighs trembled and shook, clapping against his hips as Adam grunted and drove himself deep inside her, going still. His thick fingers curled tight into the sheets, muscled arms squeezing her arms tight.  The heat of him poured inside her, and it was only then she realized they’d been too wrapped up in the moment and hadn’t thought to use protection. Strangely enough, for a girl who never took risks, Jane wasn’t the slightest bit bothered.

Adam slumped on top of her for a moment, drew a breath, and slowly eased his weight from suffocating her. Sensitive and coming down from their individual highs, they maneuvered their bodies carefully to relax into the aftermath.  Gingerly, Adam pulled himself from her, bent to lay a soft kiss against her forehead, and walked barefoot across the room to what appeared to be the master bathroom. The light pooled white and gentle from the open door and he left it on as he returned clutching a small washcloth which he’d lightly dampened with warm water.

“If you’d like?”  A question in his voice as he handed it toward her.

Jane smiled and took it from him, trying not to be touched that his first thought after sex was to get her a washcloth to clean up with.  It was an act that should be commonplace, but she knew from experience it often wasn’t.  As she cleaned away the sticky webs of their joined cum from her thighs, Adam returned to the bathroom to presumably wash himself up, came back to pull on his boxer-briefs and turned to rummage around in the nearby dresser.

“I can give you one of my shirts to sleep in, if you’d like?”

Jane had just started gathering up her clothes when she looked up and saw him smiling gently, hand extended with a white cotton t-shirt in hand.  She smiled and nodded, taking it with a thank you and went to clean herself up, pulling on her panties and pulling his shirt on before glancing at herself in the bathroom mirror.  Had she ever seen herself look so carefree and happy?  A smile crawled across her face before she could stop it, and she ran her fingers through her hair, fixing it from where it’d bunched and tangled during their lovemaking.  Her heart felt as if it skipped, thinking of going back into the room and snuggling into his arms for the evening.

That smile again.

She turned away and clicked off the light, stepping into the moonlit room where her cowboy had gingerly taken her dress and bra, setting them on the dresser beside where he’d propped her boots.  He was laying in bed beneath the cover and, when she entered the room, threw the other side back and gently patted the mattress.

“C’mere beautiful,” he said, voice gentle and sweet.

Jane slipped into bed and cuddled up against his side as he opened his arm for her to tuck in.  That arm wrapped around her body as Jane turned into him, head resting on his broad, warm chest.  For a moment they said nothing, only existed.  Adam’s breath was warm against her hair.  Everything in Jane began to relax, her entire body feeling as if it were made of jelly.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this content.  Her eyelids began to gently close and she fought them, not wanting to waste a moment they had together on sleep.  Adam’s fingers began to skim up and down her bicep and shoulder.

“Can I say something super cheesy?”  Jane asked quietly, eyes still closed.

“Mm?”  His voice rumbled in his chest where her cheek rested.

“The way I feel with you… I’ve never felt this way with anyone.”  Too astonished, too happy, and too relaxed, Jane couldn’t pause to worry about whether that was something she should have kept to herself.  Those were the kind of things you said to a man you’d been seriously dating, not a one night stand you met on a quick stop-off on a road trip where you’d likely never return.

It was only when Adam didn’t say anything immediately that worry pinched at her heart.  Jane stirred on his chest, tilting her head up to look at him.  She found him watching her, blond curls a fluffy mane around his handsome face, blue eyes filled with a myriad of emotions all tangled up in one.  He was smiling, though, and he shook his head gently back and forth before leaning forward and pulling her in with his arm, so he could press his lips in a kiss against the top of her head.

“I feel the same way about you,” he confessed once he’d laid back and relaxed his arm, letting them return to how they’d been snuggling.

Without it needing to be said, they both were smart enough to see that this wasn’t easy.  In the morning, Kate would likely be ready to drive on, and they’d continue to their destination.  Maybe on the way back they could stop again… but Jane still had a semester left before graduating university and from there, she’d planned on job hunting closer to home to stay near her parents, siblings, and nephews and nieces.  Adam had his parents here and his small horse ranch and horse training business.  Their lives were set in opposite directions.

It was with that unfortunate echo of an ache, wrapped up in Adam’s arms, that Jane drifted off to sleep, her mind unable to grasp to a solution, but too comfortable being held by him to do anything but surrender to the peace it inspired.

Sleep came and stayed until the soft, gentle chiming of an alarm began to pull her back to consciousness. She groaned gently.

“Sorry darlin’,” Adam whispered in a soft voice, gently easing himself out from where they’d still been tucked up close together, so he could grab his phone and cut the alarm.  “I have to go feed the horses.”  It was still dark outside, judging by the lack of light in the room.  He slipped out of the bed and the immediate lack of his warmth made her shiver. Gently, he set the cover back around her before rummaging around for clothes.

“Do you want me to help?” It was mumbled into the crook of her arm, where she hadn’t managed to lift her head.  Despite offering, she could feel sleep pulling her back.

Adam leaned over and placed a kiss on her temple, thumb gently tucking a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear.  Jane lifted her sleepy eyes toward him and raised a brow.

“No, that’s alright sweetheart,” his gently spoken terms of endearment were making her heart ache in the most wonderful ways.  He was still bent toward her, holding her face in the palm of his hand as if he couldn’t pull away.  “When I get done we’ll go get some breakfast.  Sound good?”

“Mm, mhm.”  Jane nodded, and Adam brushed his lips against hers, sank into a deeper kiss, smiled and finally let her go.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

“Mmkay,” she barely managed, eyelids already drooping, and curled her arms around the blanket in his absence, inhaling his smell that sat in the sheets and drifting back off to sleep. His gentle laugh at her sleepy antics where the greeting to her dreams.

Jane wasn’t sure how long she slept for, but the soft light of early morning pushing in through the curtains pried at her eyes and she slowly opened them, wiping the sleep away and blinking the room into focus.  Adam still hadn’t returned, but she wasn’t entirely surprised and felt a small stab of guilt, thinking she should have forced him to let her help him.  It would’ve gone faster with the two of them.  Slowly she moved from the bed, pulling the covers back and going to the bathroom to splash a bit of water on her face and run her fingers through her hair.  She was just beginning to debate whether she should steal a pair of sweatpants from his drawers and go out to help him when she realized she could hear noises from somewhere in the house.

It sounded like a skillet being put on the stove, and she wondered if Adam had decided to surprise her by cooking breakfast instead of them going out.  Smiling, Jane moved quickly from the bathroom, still dressed only in her panties and his shirt (it was large on her, the hem just barely covering the curve of her rear), she decided she’d let him know she was awake and spend time with him while he cooked.  

Jane started down the hallway, not trying to be particularly quiet.  From around a turn, where she assumed the kitchen was, there came a sudden voice.

“Adam?  You must’ve slept in late!  Those horses are pry starving!”

A woman’s voice.

“I didn’t see your truck in the driveway!  Did Earl Brown have to drive you home last night?”

Jane froze in step, eyes wide.  What…? Who…?

“I’m making biscuits and gravy; it’ll be ready by the time you’re through feeding!”

Standing near the end of the hallway, Jane glanced back down at the end where the bedroom was, fingers pulling the hem of his shirt down and wondering what she should do.  Should she go hide in the room until Adam came back in and explained what was happening?  Should she go grab her dress, see if she could sneak out the window and call Kate to come pick her up?  Shit… she couldn’t do that, she’d left her purse with her cellphone next to the couch when they’d first started making out.

Was he… with another woman? No… that couldn’t be it…  Adam didn’t seem like the kind of man capable of cheating.  Jane didn’t understand.

“Adam?”  Concern and confusion now, and the voice was closer than before.  When Jane hadn’t answered they’d apparently decided to come investigate.

Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck…  It was too late for Jane to duck back down the hall.  They’d see her scurrying away.

“Oh!”  An older woman appeared around the corner of the hallway and stopped dead in her tracks, blinking with wide eyes and staring at Jane. “Oh… Oh my dear, I am so sorry… I thought you were…”  She turned red in the face at the sight of Jane’s lack of dress.

“Um…”  Jane took a small step back, dying inside and trying to figure out what to do.

At that exact moment someone else joined them.  A young girl, maybe six or seven, with long curly blond hair set like a wild, untamable mane around her fair face and the prettiest set of blue eyes.  She was holding a small, stuffed pony and dressed in a long cotton purple shirt with frilly fabric at the end and pink heart patterned leggings.

“Why are you wearing my daddy’s shirt?”

“Uhh…”  Jane’s eyes were wide and jumped to the woman, who she now assumed must be Adam’s mother.  Oh god… oh god…

“Avery, sweetheart,” the older woman blinked and snapped her realizations in place, turning with a smile at her granddaughter.  “Can you help grandma set the table?  Three places, alright?”

“But grandma,” the little girl argued in a whisper, glancing back at Jane with a confused and suspicious look across her young face, “she’s wearing my daddy’s shirt.”

“Avery be a good girl, alright.  Listen to grandma.  Go set the table.”

Avery looked from her grandma to the stranger in the house – Jane – and a look of frustration crossed her face before she turned around and headed back the way they’d come.

“I’m so sorry dear,” Adam’s mother started with hushed apologies, shaking her head and waving over Jane’s shoulder, “You just go back and get yourself decent.  Breakfast will be ready in a little while.”  With one last look that was both confused and apologetic, the older woman turned and followed the way Avery had gone, leaving Jane standing alone in the hallway, struggling to process what had just happened.

Adam… had a daughter?

Jane had ducked quickly into the living room to grab her purse, retreated to the bedroom to put on her bra and dress and was sitting on the bed, trying to figure out what she was going to do, by the time Adam slowly came into the room.  He looked embarrassed and closed the door with a soft click behind him.

“Jane… I…”

“You have a daughter.”

“Yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Confused, she searched his face for answers.

“I don’t know…” He glanced from the floor at his feet to her and shook his head slowly.  “I… I was going to, before we got into Earl’s truck, but… what you said about not wanting to worry about the consequences, and it just being about last night… I was drunk… I…”  He paused and blew out a breath, walking across the room to sit on the end of the bed.  They were in reach, but still sitting apart.  “I don’t have a good enough reason, Jane.  I just felt something for you I haven’t felt for anyone in a long time, and I was afraid if you knew I was a single father, you wouldn’t want to get involved with me.  I should have said something, I know.  I just… wanted to let go for once and enjoy something good that crossed my path.  I don’t get that very often, if ever.”

There was an ache in his voice.  A sorrow. It transcended across his body and his shoulders were hunched, eyes dark and troubled.  

“Well…”  Jane drew a breath, “it’s not like anyone got hurt… I mean, I’m horrifyingly embarrassed knowing the first time your mother and daughter saw me, I was only wearing your t-shirt and my panties, but I’ll be fine as long as your daughter isn’t mentally scarred.”

Adam’s brows dipped apologetically.  “God, Jane, I’m so sorry… my mom was going to keep Avery for the day, but she had a nightmare and wanted me, so they decided to come over and cook up breakfast.  I was out in the barn and didn’t hear them pull up, and I never have anyone over, so she didn’t think…”

Immediately, Jane thought of that adorable little girl with his fluffy blond curls and lovely blue eyes, scared and needing her father, and nothing else mattered.  Who cared if she’d suffered some embarrassment?  It wasn’t the first time.  It would have been nice to have Adam tell her about his daughter, but Jane could see his side of things.  Why bother talking about her if it was obvious, they weren’t going to see one another again?  

“Can I ask about her mother?”

A look crossed Adam’s face. It was that same one he’d had briefly last night, when Wade had been surprised to see he was with a girl, and when he’d started talking about moving back home after college.  It was pain and sadness and regret.

“She’s out of the picture. For good.”  His voice clipped at the end.

“Oh…”  Jane said softly and glanced at her hands in her lap.

“It was her choice.”

She looked over at him. Adam licked his lips and ran a frustrated hand through his curls, offsetting them.  It made Jane’s fingers itch, wanting to reach across the distance between them to tuck the hair back in place.  He wore his pain so close to the surface, it was impossible not to see it.

“How old was Avery when she left?”

“It was a month before she turned two.  I moved back home so my mom could help me with raising her.”

“Oh…”  Jane blinked, trying to think of a reason a woman would leave her year-old daughter and a man like Adam behind.  She just kept drawing blanks.

Suddenly, there came a wild flurry of little knocks on the door.  “Daddy and Daddy’s friend, Grandma says breakfast is ready!  Come get it while it’s hot!”  The little voice yelled behind the door, and despite the heavy atmosphere in the room, Jane smiled.  They could hear the little patter of her feet as she ran back away, returning to the kitchen.

Adam looked over at Jane.

“If you just want to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.  I can wait with you until your friend arrives… I’d hate to subject you to sitting down for breakfast with my mama and my daughter after all this.”

Those were the sort of things you did after you’d been dating for a while, when you talked about maybe becoming a little more serious and kept going back and forth about when and how you’d meet them.  Their already complicated story got a whole lot more complicated.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jane asked, watching him quietly.

“No,” he said it too quickly, realized he did, and drew a breath.  It slipped out slow and he shook his head, staring at her.  “I don’t ever want you to leave.”  He hesitated, as if realizing he’d said it, and then decided to charge full steam ahead.  “Actually, I uh… I’ve been trying to sort it out the whole morning while I was feeding the horses, I might have some ideas how we could make this work…”

“Make… what work?” Jane could barely breathe.

“Us…”  Adam’s blue eyes were soft on her.  “If… if you wanted to try it, that is.”

Talk about complicated. Jane blinked, envisioning her strict plan she’d kept herself diligently on, pushing herself through university to earn her degree, and how close she was to finally checking everything off her to-do list.  Nowhere did it say she’d start dating a single father in Montana.

But when was the last time anyone made her feel this way?

Jane stood up slowly. A look of sorrow touched Adam’s face as he assumed, she meant to leave, but he pushed it away, as if he wanted to do everything he could to help ease the burden of making this decision  He didn’t even want her knowing he was upset about the choice he made, trying to respect what she chose.  Jane’s heart ached, but she didn’t leave the room. Instead, she walked around to his front to face him, put her hands on his shoulders and smiled when his eyes lifted and met hers.

“Let’s hear those ideas,” Jane said, and was about to say more when Avery’s little voice yelled through the house.

“YOUR BISCUITS ARE GETTING COLD!”

They both broke out into grins.

“After breakfast.” Jane concluded.  “I’d hate to let a man’s biscuits go cold.”

Adam stood up, and his wide, warm, calloused palms wrapped around her hands.  He pulled her in and leaned down, kissing her gently.

“After breakfast.”

#hangman page #hangman adam page #adam page #fanfiction #fanfic #wrestling fanfic #there's not enough horses in part two #screw u op #u sold out for smut #hapedit

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Deal with the Devil II Part 1

Katherine Howard was tired.

The girl yawned as she sat on the stage that evening, leaning against Anna’s legs as she sat on her throne. They were working a bit later than usual to work on some new blocking for Parr during her solo.

Anna had been paying close attention to Parr until she felt the weight of the girl in front of her against her legs. She looked down as Kat looked up at her, a goofy smile on her face.

“Hello,” Kat mumbles quietly.

“Hey,” Anna replies. She starts playing with the girl’s hair and Kat immediately closes her eyes, smiling even wider at the sensation.

Jane was a bit more lax, not completely keeping an eye on Kat since they were in rehearsal and she was with Anna, but she couldn’t help but smile softly when she saw Kat’s hand fall from her lap down to her side; the girl had dozed off, again.

“She can honestly sleep anywhere,” Aragon notes from the opposite side of Jane. Jane chuckles and nods.

“Not sure how she does it, to be honest,” Jane replies.

“Alright, ladies,” the choreographer says. “Just Jane’s solo, then we’re good.”

Parr seems to be just as tired as she sits next to Aragon, her head on her godmother’s shoulder.

“Tired, love?” Aragon asked, to which Parr nodded with a yawn. “We’ll be out soon.”

Jane stands up, walking over to the choreographer... but then she stops.

She sees him.

In the back.

She doesn’t even pay attention to the work, she just stares at the guy.

“Aragon,” she says suddenly. “Get the others out of here.”

Aragon has noticed him, too, and was quick to pick up Parr and rush off stage. Anna simply carried Kat off, who awoke with a start and whined softly in confusion as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

The choreographer looks confused for a moment before she sees the man.

“Go, dear,” Jane says gently. “Quickly now, back with the others.”

The girl does so.

Boleyn, for her part, stood next to Jane.

“Anne-“ Jane starts, but Boleyn shakes her head.

“You’re not doin’ this alone, Janey,” Anne replies. They never take their eyes off of him. 

“This is the welcome I get?” He asks, wandering down a side aisle. He smiles darkly at the girls in front of him. “My ex-wives rushing off stage at the sight of me?”

“What do you want, Henry?” Jane asks, voice cold. She sees Anne tremble a bit, but she can’t give away that fear. Not right now.

“I’m just looking for a little family reunion, darling-“ he says, but he’s cut off.

“You need to leave,” Anne says. “You’re not welcomed here.”

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think you get to decide that, love.”

“I’m calling the police if you don’t leave,” Jane says, taking out her phone.

Anne keeps an eye on Henry as Jane texts the other queens to make sure they’re ok. His eyes seem to glow for a moment before he waves his hand, which is also glowing. Jane looks up when Anne pulls her backwards, not wanting whatever it was Henry was doing to catch her off guard.

“Witchcraft!” Anne yells, eyes wide. “You’ve resorted to witchcraft, Henry?”

“Some powerful magicks so ancient they are even older than us, Anne,” he says, smirking devilishly.

Anne steps forward, hiding Jane. “You’ve truly abandoned god if you would sink so low as to use forbidden arts like this. That’s not regular magick. That’s evil.”

“You lot left me no choice,” he says with a shrug. “You’ll suffer for it. You all will.”

Anne narrows her eyes, but then she hears two large “THUMPs” from the wings. She looks back and gasps.

Aragon and Cleves are unconscious.

Standing over them is Parr and Katherine.

“Girls? What’s happened-“ Jane starts to move towards them, but Anne pulls Seymour back.

“Don’t” she says quietly. “He’s done something.”

“Are you sure you weren’t a witch in the first life Anne?” He teases. “You seem to know a lot about magicks.”

Anne says nothing, just watches the two standing women in the wings. Both have half-lidded eyes, are sweating and shaking, and seem to not really notice what’s happening. Katherine lets out some sort of pitiful wheeze - is it hard to breathe for her? - and Parr is definitely in some sort of distress.

“What have you done to them?” Anne asks, turning to walk towards Henry. Just as she gets to the edge of the stage, she’s suddenly yanked backwards.

She doesn’t even register the punch from Katherine Howard. She falls to the ground unconscious a moment later.

“Katherine!” Jane says harshly, both from shock. She moves to try to wake Anne up. “What’s gotten into you?!?”

Parr and Katherine move to Henry as he gets onto the stage.

“Now that that’s over,” he quips, smiling. “You’re coming with me, Jane.”

Jane blinks. “What?”

“You’ll be coming with me and we’ll be making the life we should have had,” he explains.

Jane frowns, watching Kat and Parr. They’re clearly not themselves. If Jane went with them, she might be able to snap them out of this... or at least keep track of them and hope for an opportunity to break them of the spell.

“... fine,” she says. “But don’t hurt anyone else.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he quips, moving over to her and cupping her cheek. “We’ll have lots of fun together, my love. Finally.”

Anna of Cleves is the first to wake up.

She groans a hand to her head; she doesn’t remember this morning. She isn’t sure how she got here; where even was here?

She looks up to see the choreographer and Bessie standing over her, looking incredibly concerned. She looks around: Maria is desperately trying to get Aragon to wake up while Joan and Maggie have seemingly successfully woken up Anne.

“What’s happened?” Cleves mumbles; she’s still so tired, she wants to close her eyes again.

“You tell us,” Bessie replies softly. “We came in to find you lot passed out on the stage. We don’t know where the others have gone.”

Cleves nods quietly, eyes closing. Bessie gently taps her cheek.

“No falling asleep just yet,” Bessie says. “We’ll get you all to the hospital. Promise.”

Bessie looks back to Maria, who is getting more and more frantic trying to wake her queen up. She’s speaking in Spanish now - a clear sign that she’s scared - but Aragon won’t wake up.

“Shit,” the choreographer says.

Bessie turns back to her queen, only to find that she’s unconscious again. She can’t be woken.

Meanwhile, Maggie has successfully gotten Anne to stir, smiling in relief when she does.

“Anne?” She asks gently. “Are you okay?”

Anne groans, blinking awake slowly. She looks up at Maggie for a moment before a hand goes to her head. “She’s really good at punching, that one.”

“Who?”

“Kat.”

“Katherine punched you?!?”

“She didn’t mean it, I don’t think.”

Anne slowly gets to her feet, eyes wide when she sees the other two queens.

“They can’t wake up, Anne,” Maria says through tears. “What’s happened?”

“Henry’s back,” Anne replies. “And he’s... he’s abandoned any light. He bewitched Kat and Parr and... I can only assume he did the same to Jane. Or maybe she went as a prisoner or something, I don’t know. Kat knocked me out before I could do anything.”

Joan nods. “We have to find them, then.”

Maggie frowns, watching as Maria so tightly embraced Aragon, broken sobs muffled through the Spanish queen’s shirt as her lady in waiting begged for the girl to wake up. Bessie, too, was heavily distressed, mumbling soft words into Cleves’s ears to try to rouse her. Neither queens responded to their lady’s calls.

Maggie shook her head in dispair.

“How do we find them?”

No one had an answer.

Jane Seymour sat quietly in between Parr and Kat in the back of an unmarked white van, Henry smiling to himself at the wheel. He’s going on and on about how great their lives will be, how he plans on utilizing his new powers, how he’ll keep Kat and Parr under his spell for the rest of eternity.

Jane, however, wasn’t completely concentrating. She looked to Parr, examining the girl. She was wincing every few seconds, trembling and sweating as if she had a high fever. Her hands twitched and every few minutes it looked like she was trying to say something, but no words came out.

Katherine was equally as concerning. The girl looked dead, eyes glassy and body trembling as well, but instead of twitching, she seemed completely lifeless. It reminded Jane of the girl’s panic attacks when no one came to help her.

While responding to Henry’s quips and keeping him satisfied, Jane gently pulled Parr to rest on her shoulder while positioning Kat to put her head in her lap, having taken off Kat’s jacket to make her a pillow. This seemed to help, with the trembling lessening significantly for both.

Henry had gone quiet now, but with so much sound and jostling coming from the roads, Jane decides to take a chance and try to wake Parr up.

“Cathy? It’s Jane,” she says. “Wake up, love. I need you here.”

Parr shutters, eyelids fluttering. The girl looked so tired.

“Hurts,” Parr mumbles.

“I know, my love,” Jane says gently. “But Katherine is injured. And I think Aragon wasn’t awake, either. We’re all hurt and I need help to get us out of this.”

Parr seems to wake up a bit more, then. She tries to say something, but Jane gently puts a hand over her mouth to silence her; Henry’s pulled over, wherever they are.

“I’ll be right back,” Henry says. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Of course, as soon as Jane heard him leave, she quickly brought her attention back to Parr.

“I need you awake, my love,” Jane says gently. “We need to get Kat out of here and I can’t carry you both.”

“Kat?” Parr asks.

“Kit-Kat. Katherine Howard. Remember?” Jane tries, and the spark of recognition is a good one.

Parr blinks blearily. “Kat.”

“Yes.”

Parr suddenly doubles over, a hand to her head. It hurt too much to think, but Katherine and the others are in trouble.

“We... gotta go,” Parr mumbles, wincing in pain. “He’ll be back soon.”

Jane nods, standing up. She’s quick to unlock the doors of the van and open the back one.

They seem to still be in the city. Thank god.

Parr jumps out first, stumbling, as Jane carries Kat. They manage to round the corner a moment later, successfully moving through a few people to make it into an alleyway. It’s then that Parr collapses, falling to the ground with so little warning that Jane couldn’t react in time.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, she hears him.

“JANE!”

She pulls Parr to the side, hiding them from direct view as she pulls out her phone; he hadn’t taken anything from her, surprisingly enough. She isn’t sure who to call for a moment before she decides to just call Joan.

She answers in a moment.

“Where are you?” Joan asks. No time for pleasantries.

“I don’t know,” Jane admits. “But he’s still around. He’s looking for us.”

“You can share your location with us, Lady Jane,” says another voice; Maggie. Maggie talks her through it and, sure enough, they’re a few blocks from the theater.

“He must have gotten lost or something,” Jane mumbles.

“Or he just doesn’t know how to drive,” Maggie replies. “I got a news update on my phone about how there’s a guy in a white van crashing into other cars.”

Jane frowns but nods. “Just hurry. Parr and Kat are in really bad shape.”

“We’ll be there in five,” Joan says. “We’re at the hospital.”

“For the others?” Jane asks.

“Yeah. I’ll explain later. Stay on the line,” Joan says.

“I will, but- what... what we were talking about?”

“You have to stay on the line with us,” Joan says calmly. “Do you not remember?”

“What’s going on?” Jane asks, clearly confused. Maggie looks helplessly at Joan.

“Jane-“

The line goes dead.

They rush as fast as they can to the spot.

The phone is there, but no one else is.

A few blocks away, at the hospital, Anne Boleyn has had enough. With a silent meditation, she moves over to Aragon and, with her eyes glowing gently, she lays her hand on Aragon’s forehead. The girl awakens with a soft sigh.

Anne gives her a nervous smile. Aragon should know what she just did.

“Hello,” Anne says gently.

Aragon frowns. “What-“

“I can’t really explain everything, but basically...” she holds out her hand and, suddenly, an orb appears above it, hovering over her hand. Aragon can see Jane, Parr and Kat, sitting in what looks like the back of a truck.

“If we don’t help them, we’re going to be in serious trouble.”

#six fanfiction #six fanfic #six fic #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Into the Dark (12/?)

A/N: Smut. More accurately, smutty fluff. So 18+. 

Rocket stood in the doorway, smirking at Thor as you quickly buttoned his flannel around you to cover yourself.

Thor sighed and looked at Rocket, “Yes,” he said, “Fine, we’ll find places for you to sleep.” Thor was irritated at being interrupted. His head was swimming but clearing rapidly which also irritated him. He liked being drunk on you and feeling your desire. His past self absolutely did not know what he was missing. “Rocket?” you ask not turning around, so only Thor sees you wink.

“Yes, your majesty?” he says the smirk falling off his face. He hadn’t realized it was you straddling Thor’s lap. Rocket had honestly thought that you had left New Asgard and Thor was trying to impress some hapless groupie and that he might get to see you beat someone to death for staining your couch. “It’s lovely to see you again, please do come back for tea? And learn to knock,” you say all this pleasantly but the censure is still clear. You don’t take kindly to uninvited guests. Rocket clears his throat, the crude creature struggling for what to say.

He has a lot of respect for you for reasons Thor does not fully comprehend. Though he suspects that it has something to do with the way you made accommodations for him easily. Without question and without him having to ask for them. “Of course, your majesty,” he manages, scurrying out and yelling at Drax to stop standing in your flowers like an idiot.

As you get off your husband’s lap, blushing and trying not to laugh, the big man watches you with fondness in his face, “You look good in my shirt,” he says helping you roll up the sleeves, “Keep it on?” The look you give him makes his heart stutter. You’re looking up at him all wide-eyed and dewy. That same look you gave puppies and little children who brought you pictures they colored. And your smile, soft and slow as it spreads across your face. He’s seen that smile from a distance before but never in person. He kisses your forehead and wraps his arms around you as he stands, wanting just one more moment of you, happy in his arms. Thor tugged lightly at his t-shirt. It was just slightly tighter than he liked them to be. He felt too big and too aware of his size even if he knew you didn’t care about his body.

You nuzzle his tummy softly and rest your cheek against it, taking advantage of the height difference to remind him that you like his belly. You like the comfortable warmth and softness of him. It’s safe. Thor feels his face color but he relaxes, reminding himself that if you like him as he is then who is he to argue. Thor watches as you walk towards the door of your cottage, greeting the Guardians with a smile and a wave, directing them towards the tavern where you’ll see that they’re fed. Thor follows after, shutting the door to your cottage and falling into step with you, shyly lacing his fingers through yours. He had to touch you.

In the Tavern, Loki and Brunhilde exchange a look at your joined hands but say nothing. Loki knows that look on his brother’s face. He’s in love. He’d been dancing around it for weeks now but it seemed that he had finally fallen. Hard. He knew it was no spell but it was still jarring. 

The man had hated you for a decade and now he was pulling out your chair and you were wearing his shirt. The Valkyrie waited until Thor went to the bar and followed him. At her scowl he quailed a little, “What?” he asked, self-conscious. Brunhilde folded her arms, “You know what,” she said, “This is the portion of the evening where I remind you that if your hurt the Queen, I will end you. Painfully.” Thor smiled a little, “I do not intend to hurt her. I intend to take care of her. The way I should have been doing.” The other woman looked towards where you were in polite conversation with Quill and Rocket. Quill was flirting with you, clearly feeling the effects a fey could have on a human. Rocket was watching him smirking. You looked mildly discomfited. Quill was edging closer to you slowly. The Valkyrie started towards you but Thor stopped her, stepping in himself. He wrapped his arms around your waist, feeling possessive of you he dropped a soft kiss on your shoulder in hello. Quill stammered for a moment and backed up a fraction. He hadn’t ever met you really. He’d seen you from a distance talking to Loki. He thought you were a servant or something. You lean back into Thor, grateful for his intervention. Your discomfort was quickly turning to panic. 

Now that he’s near you, Thor can feel the tension in your body and he doesn’t like it. He’s never asked you for details and be probably won’t, not unless you volunteer them. But the man who had assaulted you had better pray he was dead before Thor got to him. The god strokes your side and smiles when Loki hands you a pint of cider. His brother is giving him the same look that Brunhilde did and he knows that if he steps one toe out of line, he better be able to outrun them. Once the Guardians are seen to and comfortable you look up at Thor, you look tired. Too many emotions in one day, he supposes. That always wears on you. You experience each one fully and it’s exhausting just to watch sometimes. 

“Will you walk me home?” you ask quietly. Thor nods, finishing his drink quickly. He knows that nothing would ever happen to you here in New Asgard. But he also knows that you’re probably asking because you don’t feel comfortable quite yet after Quill’s frankly obscene comments this evening. He was trying to impress you and just made you feel gross. You feel like you need a shower and you need Thor. You need him to be there to grab onto when the fragile calm you’ve soothed yourself into falls apart again. 

Thor tucks your hand in the crook of his arm and holds it there lightly, guiding you through crowded tables onto the street. Outside he leans down and kisses you lightly, “My Queen,” he murmurs, smoothing flyaway hairs out of your face with a massive paw. You feel the blush stain your cheeks and he smiles a little. So soft on the outside. So strong on the inside. He walks you home idly humming to himself. For the first time in a long time, he is happy. Truly happy. There is a peace and contentment in being next to you, ruling beside you that he’s never known. Asgard is at peace. The summer fey are at peace. And you have feelings for him. It had taken a year but as you walk beside him, wearing his shirt and tucked against his side, he can’t help but marvel at you. When he had been ready to resign himself to living in misery as you had, caring for you despite your apathy towards him he hadn’t noticed the walls crumbling around that last shard of your heart. 

They were gone and he had claimed it as his own, making a silent promise to himself to rebuild what he had broken. He couldn’t bring himself to ask you about children. He knew you wanted them. That you wanted to cuddle babies of your own. For him it was a more vague concept. He knew children would need to happen but he didn’t know how he felt about it. All he knew was that he’d like to see what you looked like all rounded out and glowing. Part of that was his powers but to be fair, he had never wanted children with Sif. Or Jane. He had loved them both as a foolish boy loves. Jealous and possessive. Heavy with desire and flowery words but short of sacrifice or empathy. He wanted to support you as you supported him. He wanted to show you what it was supposed to feel like to be with a man. 

He was so lost in thought that he’s surprised to find himself in your kitchen, watching you unbutton his shirt. When your chest is bare again he doesn’t think, he scoops you up and carries you to your bed. It’s big, meant for a queen to be able to sprawl out comfortably in. And soft. Perfect for what Thor means to do. He strips himself completely before reaching for the button on your pants, “Still okay?” he asks softly, tilting your chin up. You nod and blush. His hands haven’t felt this good on your skin before. This is no clinical, dutiful coupling for the creation of an heir. This is something else. 

He helps you out of your pants and turns the lights down. He wants to see you but the overhead light is too bright. As he lays you gently on the bed and parts your thighs, he smiles at you. You’re laying against the pillows watching him. Uncertain and blushing. “Sweetheart, just relax for me,” he soothes, “I’ll be right here and if anything happens that you don’t like, I’ll stop. Just tell me.” 

You nod and he goes to work, lavishing attention on your body. He reads every sigh and every wince like an expert. He knows what he wants to do. He wants you to experience pleasure under his hands. He wants you to feel pleasantly sore in the morning. He takes his time. Every pant and hitch in your breath making him thrill a little. His cock is dripping for you but he waits. This isn’t about him. This is about making sure you know what sex is supposed to feel like. How a man should behave when he’s lucky enough to get between your thighs.

The soft cry when he swipes his tongue over your clit makes him groan. You sound so good, despite your quiet. He sucks lightly, intent on making you come apart for him until you’re boneless and trembling. When you do come for him, it crashes down on you all at once and he chuckles until he hears the alarmed tone of your voice as you try to pull away, “Thor?” you whimper as the aftershocks leave you breathless. He stops then. Never in 13 years of marriage have you called him by name. He cuddles you, covering your face in kisses and bringing you down gently. In the silence, tracing patterns in the sweat on your skin, Thor can feel himself throb and he shifts to get comfortable. There’s time. All the time. But when you turn to him with hungry kisses and eager eyes he needs no more encouragement. 

He situates you on his lap, straddling his hips and helps you to ease down onto his cock. He knows you’ve felt him before. But not like this. He’s big and hard yes, but now you’re comfortably full of him instead of waiting for it to be over. He murmurs instructions to you gently, telling you to move when you feel ready. And you do, slowly at first, shyly putting hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Thor cups your ass in his hands and squeezes lightly, “Yes,” he groans, “Yes, fuck. Oh you’re so fucking tight. Y/N, please don’t stop.” He brings one hand up and finds your clit. He wants you to come on his cock and he can feel you getting close. “Thor,” you sigh, biting his lip. He pushes you over the edge into bliss circling your clit to keep you coming for him, drawing it out. He wants you full of his seed and when he spends inside you, he pulls you to him, kissing you hungrily. “You said my name,” he said, cuddling you. “Say it again?” he asks softly. And you do, whispered like a prayer against his skin as you kiss his neck. 

Tags:

@lancsnerd@innerpaperexpertcloud@stevieang@peachykeen3502@vxidnik, @past-perfect-future-tense, @trumpettay, @buckysblondie, @golddaggers

#thorx reader #fluff #smut #thor

[bee-kathony]

Four Years | Year Three - “April 10th, 2016″

a/n: thank you so much for reading! back to Claire’s POV now and a wee bit nsfw... 

Year One | Year Two

January 9th, 2016 | January 24th, 2016 | March 3rd, 2016 | March 30th, 2016

April 10th, 2016

I’d taken Jenny’s advice about occupying my mind and I sat in our backyard, knees and hands in the dirt, digging out a spot for a rose bush. First I had started on clearing up all the weeds and dead plants from when my parents had lived here.

With dirt under my nails, I stuck my tongue between my lips and concentrated on digging a deep enough hole. I could hear shrieks and laughs from Fergus inside and looked up to see Jamie chasing him through the house. While it touched me to see them so happy and getting along, I felt ashamed that I hadn’t connected with our son yet.

Every time I looked at him, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, I couldn’t help but feel my heart squeeze at the thought of Jane. We had been blessed with one child, but I still wept for the one that was lost.

That’s what made this whole thing so damn difficult — Jamie seemed to be doing just fine. He’d bonded with Fergus quickly and I hadn’t seen him shed a tear in weeks. Perhaps he was better at healing than I was. Perhaps I was broken beyond repair.

The fresh earth under my fingers was keeping me tethered to something real. This rose bush was real. My heart was beating — that was real. Jamie… Fergus… they were real.

Sometimes I woke during the night, a cold sweat on my skin and I imagined that I heard Jane crying in her crib. Only once — after I came home from the hospital, did I walk to her half built nursery to find that she wasn’t there.

Now that room was empty. Jamie had taken out all of the things we had slowly been collecting over the months and gotten rid of them. That door stayed shut at all times.

“Sassenach,” Jamie appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath from chasing Fergus. “Do ye want somethin’ to drink? Or are ye hungry at all?”

“I’ll have some lemonade if we have any,” I smiled and then bent my head to resume my work.

A few moments later, he was kneeling down next to me, offering a cold glass of lemonade. “Thank you,” I took it and drank, downing half the glass in a second.

“I guess ye were thirsty,” he smiled and then started to stand up again.

“Jamie?”

He knelt back down, his finger pushing back a stray curl that had fallen over my face. “Aye, Sassenach?”

“How did you—“ I stopped, shaking my head.

“What? How did I what?”

I looked down at the dirt in my hands, crumbling it between my fingers, ashamed to meet his eyes. “How did you move on? You seem so happy, so… much lighter than I feel.”

“Ye mean move on from losing Jane?” He sank to his knees beside me, sliding his hand over my back. “Claire, what makes ye think that?”

“You laugh,” I sniffed, wiping my face, no doubt smearing dirt across my cheeks. “You play with Fergus and manage to act like a well put together human being for starters. I just don’t understand why you aren’t still sad.”

“I am sad, mo nighean donn,” he said softly. “And I only laugh and play because we still have a son that needs our attention. Ye havena exactly been able to help me wi’ that.”

“Of course I haven’t been able to!” I jerked my head to look up at him. “It kills me to be missing out on this part of his life. I hate myself for not being able to love him like I should — to not be able to bond with him as you have.”

“I didna mean to make ye upset, Sassenach.”

“Why don’t you cry, Jamie?” I said, so quietly I wasn’t sure he heard me.

He took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment before saying, “I cry, mo ghraidh. I cry every day, but I have wanted to be strong for ye. I thought that if ye saw that I was cryin’ it would only make ye more sad than ye already are.”

“Jamie,” I reached up to cup his cheek. “I thought you had forgotten.”

“Forgotten? Oh Christ no, Claire. Tis only been 76 days since we lost her, I willna ever forget what happened. Have you thought this of me the whole time?”

I saw the pain in his eyes then — the dark circles from sleepless nights and for the first time I really looked at him. He was thinner, his cheeks didn’t have that rosy glow they usually did. Jamie looked miserable and here I had been thinking him a heartless man.

“I did,” I nodded. “I hadn’t seen you cry or heard you talk about her unless I brought her up since just after we came home without her. I’m sorry for that.”

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry for, Sassenach,” Jamie placed his hand over mine and brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of my palm. “If anyone is to apologize tis me for not bein’ open wi’ how I’ve been feeling. It’s been hell, a nighean.”

“Share that with me,” I pleaded, turning my body towards him. “Share that pain with me, we promised we would get through this together and just as you hold me up, I will hold you up James Fraser.”

His eyes watered and my own blurred with tears as I pressed my forehead against his. “There’s the two of us and I need you now more than ever.”

“I miss her, Claire,” Jamie buried his head in my neck, his arms wrapping around me and his body shook. “I miss her so damn much, it isna fair!”

I held him, as I said I would and let him cry, wetting my shirt sleeve. It pained me to think of how much he’d been hurting and I hadn’t even asked how he was. I had shut out anything and everyone other than what I needed to do to grieve and move forward.

“Jamie?” I pulled his head up, wiping his tears away with the pads of my thumbs. “Do you know why I wanted to plant this rose bush?” He shook his head, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.

“I’m doing it so that every time we look at the beautiful roses, we will think of Jane. When they blossom, we can think of her and her beautiful little spirit,” I smiled, a feeling of warmth returning to my body.

“I love that, Sassenach, tis a wonderful thing to do,” he said and then placed both his hands on the side of my head and kissed me. It was full of unspoken hurts and conveyed all the words we had kept to ourselves. I love you, I need you, I will always need you.

“I was also thinking,” I said as I wiped my thumbs under his eyes. “That we should talk to someone. Of course, we need to talk with each other about all of this, but perhaps a professional.”

“Jenny mentioned that to me as well, I meant to ask ye about it,” he squeezed my hand. “I think it would be good for us, so that we dinna bottle up all of the pain. I wish I could help ye, Claire, I do, but I fear that I can’t help ye this time.”

“Oh, Jamie,” I pulled him to me again, rubbing his back with my hand. “You have helped me so much. You’ve given me space and time, more than I deserve. You’ve helped with Fergus, and for that I can’t thank you enough. No one is prepared to lose a child. No one.”

Jamie turned his head and rested his cheek on my shoulder, and I felt the way his breathing was slow and steady. I always felt safe in his arms — it had never occurred to me that perhaps he felt the safest in my arms as well.

We sat there for awhile longer until I realized that Fergus was in the house alone. “Is Fergus alright, Jamie? Where’s he at?”

“He’s playin’ wi’ the Batman figure in his room,” he smiled. “He hasna taken it out of his hands in days.”

I sighed, leaning my head on Jamie’s shoulder. “I’m a terrible mother aren’t I?”

“Shhh, Sassenach,” Jamie stroked my head, “Dinna ever say that. If it makes ye feel any better, the wee lad has asked for ye almost every night at story time.”

“He has?” I looked up at him. “Now I just feel worse,” my head sank back down, but Jamie lifted my chin up with his hand.

“Ye’ve been grievin’, Claire. We have time, he’s no goin’ anywhere,” he smirked. “If ye feel up to it, ye can read to him tonight.”

After talking with Jamie, I was already beginning to feel like my old self again. All I really needed to know was that we truly were in this together and that if either of us had a bad day, we would be there to pick up the pieces. Of course I should have known this after the way Jamie handled my cancer. He’d been my rock when I needed him most.

“I think I’m up to the task. I can’t promise any good voices though,” I laughed and it sounded strange to my own ears.

“Come inside, Sassenach. Ye’ve got dirt on yer face,” Jamie smiled and stood up, pulling me up by my hands. He lead me inside and pushed me towards the kitchen sink, grabbing a cloth and wetting the end. Turning to face me, he put on hand on my hip and then dabbed at my cheeks, wiping away the dirt. “All clean,” he smiled and leaned in, kissing the wet spot on my skin.

I had missed him. His touch, his warmth. The way my body so naturally called out to his to simply hold me and do with me as he would. The past weeks I hadn’t wanted him to touch me even though my mind was at war with what I needed. Now… I never wanted him to stop.

My eyes fluttered closed as he kissed my other cheek, slowly moving his mouth to nibble on my ear. Goosebumps broke out across my skin and I loosely wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on lest my knees gave away. “I’ve missed ye, Sassenach,” he whispered into my ear and that was all it took.

“Oh God, Jamie,” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks as I clung to him, my body shaking as his hands parted my legs, pushing my dress up around my waist. I heard the zipper of his fly and then felt his hand between my thighs, and he quickly guided himself inside of me. The doctor had told us to wait three weeks before having sex after the miscarriage.

It had been eleven weeks.

As Jamie thrust upwards, hitting that spot just so, I leaned my head into his neck, gently biting his flesh. He had me pressed against the counter, hands clutching onto my back so tightly I knew I would have his fingerprints there.

It was primal, it was needy. We were both desperate to feel something other than pain and I gave over to feeling the pleasure I so needed. “Jamie, I need you.” I pushed against him, circling my hips as he jerked again and again. “Sassenach,” he whispered and as he kissed me, I felt him spill inside me and only a moment later did I follow him, whimpering my own desperate cry of relief.

Slowly, he pulled out of me, tucking himself back into his pants and then helped me straighten up. I looked up at him, smiling and then started laughing. A deep belly laugh that echoed around the house.

“Why are ye laughin’?” He smiled.

“I just can’t believe we did that and Fergus could have walked in and seen us,” I covered my mouth with my hand. “We have to be more careful!”

“Well I didna have anythin’ on my mind other than partin’ yer legs, Sassenach if I’m honest.”

I blushed, “Well nor did I. Next time, let’s do it behind a locked door, alright?”

“If my lady insists,” he smirked and kissed me again, his hands settling on my waist. “Want to go check on Fergus now?”

“Yes, please,” I turned on my heel and made my way down the hallway towards Fergus’ room with Jamie hot on my trail. He was sitting on the floor with the Batman figure in his hand making him walk around. I felt a nudge on my back from Jamie and I walked over, sitting down beside him.

“Are you enjoying Batman?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Cape!”

“Oh yes, he does have a very lovely cape,” I smiled, picking up the nylon cape and waving it around. Fergus started laughing and I looked up to see that Jamie had gone, most likely to give me time on my own with our son.

I spent the next hour lying on the floor, playing with various toys. My dreadful fear that Fergus wouldn’t like me after all these weeks of me moping around started to fade away. He was talkative — with the few words he knew and very cheerful. While I would never forget the pain of losing Jane, my heart was beginning to lighten as I looked into the eyes of our son, seeing hope and love.

#four years #year three #outlander fanfic #curlsgetdemgurls #april 10 2016 #jamie x claire #healing

[fxckingfinan]

Riddle me This (1/?)

Pairing: Detective!Bucky x Detective!Reader

Summary: Reader is a Detective along side her partner Bucky Barnes, stuck on a case that ends up a little more than they bargained for. She never expected a normal Tuesday to turn into months of consuming work. She never expected to be the target of a riddle obsessed serial killer, and she sure as hell never expected to fall in love in the midst.

Next

Warnings: Death, slightly graphic descriptions of wound

Word count: 1258

A/n: I’m on mobile and I can’t do a read more link and for that I am truly sorry

—

Y/n sighed as her partner pulled up to a small town house, smack dab in the suburbs of Brooklyn. She took notice of the bustling streets, squinting her eyes before glancing at her partner.

“Seems a little busy for murder” she quipped stepping out of the suv, eyes trailing over the abundance of civilians.

“You say that like there’s a correct time for it.” Bucky replies, a smirk adorning his face as he too moved to get out of the vehicle. A wide smile fell over her own face as she rolled her eyes jokingly, continuing into the building with her partner in tow. They shared a quick look before Y/n met the eyes of their captain. She let a slightly softer smile than before grace her face in an attempt to stay professional.

“Morning Cap, what do we have today?” Her voice was awkwardly formal, causing a look of discomfort to come over Steve’s face. He was newly promoted to Captain, give or take a few months on the job. At one point he was a just fellow detective, having formed close bonds with both Bucky and Y/n. Though he always liked to keep professionalism at the top priority, it sounded weird coming from her having been friends for so long.

“What am I your grandfather? Losen up Y/n, you know I hate formalities with you.” A scoff left his mouth, tilting his head back as his arms raised up into almost a shrug.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say Steven.” Y/n waved her hands around dismissing his statement. That was something she was always good at, keeping the playfulness alive no matter the setting. Sometimes it was a blessing, and other times it was a curse. She let her eyes pass around the room in search of what she assumed would be a body, stopping when she reached exactly that. Motioning her hand towards the victim she kept her voice steady, “Were you able to contact any family?” It always was a great big tug at the heart strings to see the different types of crime scenes, but she tried to keep a strong face while on the job.

“No,” Steve sighed, “Victim isn’t in any database. That means no emergency contacts, no family known. She’s basically a Jane Doe.”

“No ID or anything for a name?” Bucky questioned, face and voice stoic. Y/n took notice of the change in his mood, just like she always notices on every crime scene they’ve worked together. She liked to assume it was to keep up a tough guy facade. She also liked to assume she brought out the softer side to him.

“We found an ID, she just doesn’t have any known family. Kind of sad.” Y/n continued towards the body as Steve spoke, slapping on a pair of rubber gloves before further investigating.

Making mental notes in her head she evaluated the situation. No forced entry, no signs of real struggle, no DNA other than the victims. There was nothing. Not even a partial print or strand of hair left behind. If it weren’t for the blood spatter pointing to a clear conclusion of murder she would assume the body wasn’t here to begin with. Placed specifically like a picture on a wall.

“Alright let’s see here.” Bucky started, a pair of rubber gloves also adorning his larger hands. He gently poked and prodded at the body in front of them, lightly turning the head to the side to reveal a clean two inch long cut at the back of the neck. Moving to look further down the body, he didn’t notice any other wounds. No bruises, cuts, or scratches could be found on the body. “What are you thinkin’ guys?” Steve asked finally, breaking the two from their individual thoughts.

“Considering the condition of the body, I don’t think this is your average case of a crazed ex looking for revenge. It’s methodical almost,” Y/n let her fingers trace the cut without actually touching the body, “well thought out, no obvious bruising or trauma to the body. Almost like they were trying to preserve it. We’re either dealing with someone whose done their research or this isn’t their first walk through the park.”

“She’s right. There no hesitation to the wounds. Clean cut and to the point, in such a place where he had to know what he was doing. He had to be confident to get the job done with a single wound.” Bucky added, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood to his full height.

“Exactly. Her carotid artery is severed, and due to the anatomy of the neck that’s not exactly easy peasy. You need clean, direct lateral pressure. If the victim was struggling there’s no way the perp coulda achieved this.” Y/n nodded, Bucky and herself further bouncing ideas off of each other. One of the many reasons they worked so well together was their ability to easily build off of what the other was saying. They’d both been in the field for a while solving cases on their own, so when they were assigned to partner up it was no surprise to anyone they were able to solve twice as many cases in a record amount of time.

“So maybe she didn’t resist. Maybe she was unknowingly cooperative. Maybe she trusted them.” He looked at Y/n to gauge her reaction, receiving a small smirk in return.

“And bingo was his name-o”

Steve sighed yet again before cutting in, “Alright well if you two are done I’m gonna get forensics in here, though you two already seemed to have done their job.”

“Sorry Rogers, forensic background.” Y/n shrugged, “We’ll see you at the station Captain.” She glanced at the body again as Steve walked away, ready to leave herself until something caught her eye. The stark white of the object contrasting the victims hair. How hadn’t they noticed this being so up close less than five minutes ago? “Actually Buck, why don’t you go ahead to the car I’ll be right there.”

“Alright doll, don’t take too long. I was thinkin’ we hit up that old diner on the way back to the station.” Bucky replied, passing her a strange look before turning around to walk out the door. Y/n mumbled a quick ‘mhm’ before looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to her before coming to the conclusion they weren’t.

Her brows furrowed as she crouched to get a closer look, going in to pull out with gloved hands what seemed to be a tattered piece of paper. Her guess was found to be correct as she flipped the small scrap around in her fingers. Small words could be seen typed out onto it, confusing her further as she quietly read the words to herself.

“It brings back the lost as though never gone, shines laughter and tears with light long since shone; a moment to make, a lifetime to shed; valued then but lost when your dead. What is It?” Her eyes strained as she read the impossibly tiny words, flickering across the paper rabidly. “A riddle?”

“Y/l/n what are still doing here?” Steve spoke from across the room, his unintentionally stern voice drawing attention to her crouched down figure.

“Nothing Captain, just leaving now” she spoke with just as much conviction before dropping her voice to herself, continuing to slip the piece of paper into her pocket before looking around.

“Nothing at all.”

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky x you #avengers #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan imagine

[adangerousbond]

Family Meetings

So I had a scene for a post S4 finale fic in my mind, but didn't want to get too into actual semantics, so just started writing and still somehow it turned into an nearly 5.5k oneshot! I haven't looked into S5 spoilers/info, anything really so I have no idea what direction they are going with it.

As usual I have only had a quick check over it, so apologies for any mistakes

Read Below or at ff.net or AO3

Enjoy!

They had dragged themselves out of the tunnels to a fanatic Jane, pulling the rumble away quicker than the four of them. The moment they were all free they sprinted away from the area, not wanting their attackers to become aware that they had failed in their hit or to wait around to see if they had a back up missile.

Once at a fair distance they all stopped to regroup, giving each other and themselves a quick going over, everyone noticing for the first time that Weller had been supporting Patterson as they had made their escape, and then the piece of debris in her leg catching their attention instead. Jane's focus going to her husband the moment he flinched while helping the blonde switch her weight to the boulder behind them, the large patch of blood seeping through his shirt suddenly the only thing she could see.

Ignoring his wife's fussing at his arm, Weller checked over the remaining two members of the team, Reade for the most part seemed okay, just a few general cuts and scrapes, and Tasha had moved to sit next to Patterson, after having done the same thing and glanced over the rest of the team, her face cringing as she slowly lifted her hand to touch the blood and dirt mixture that was covering the side of it, Reade glancing with concern as he paused from checking out the metal in Patterson's leg.

"We need to get somewhere to clean up." Weller spoke, breaking the team's attention away from assessing each other.

"Agreed, you and Patterson will need stiches and I would be tipping Zapata has a concussion, the three of you should really see a doctor." Reade spoke, running through the list of injuries he had determined so far.

"You all should get checked out." Jane stated, the worry that she had been feeling when she saw their hideout blow up still lacing her tone.

"We can't, we need to lay low, so unless you know a doctor in Iceland that you trust completely, we will have to make do." Patterson reasoned; her voice clipped as she tried not to move too much as she tried to determine how far into her leg the metal shard went.

"She's right, we are best finding somewhere off grid and patching ourselves up." Tasha stated, backing her friend up as she glanced around their surroundings, trying to work out just where they should go next.

A silent agreeance taking over the group as they prepared themselves to continue moving, the sound of a helicopter overhead spurring them into action as they made their way in the only direction that was somewhat covered. They all froze the moment they reached a road and a black SUV pulled up alongside them and its window rolled down.

"Get in, Ice Cream sent me." The man in the driver's seat told them impatiently, his eyes going back to check the road for any threats the moment he had given his instructions.

The team looked around at each other, trying to determine if getting in the vehicle was their best move, the collection of injuries amongst them meaning they couldn't fight as well as usual, but also that they really needed to stop and treat the injuries. With a collective nod, they all knew that it was a risk they had to take, they didn't have much of a choice but to get into the vehicle.

The man didn't speak again until he pulled into a large warehouse an hour or so later, and all he told them when he did was that Ice Cream was on his way and to wait there, before he exited back the way they had come, leaving them standing in the middle of the empty warehouse, not quite sure what was going on. Quietly, the four set to finding makeshift weapons around them, giving them something to use if this did turn out to be a trap.

Before they had a chance to do too much preparing, two new vehicles entered, and relief flooded the group when they saw Ice Cream step out of one. He set about directing his people to the perimeters and having the doctor he brought along check over his recent friends, running over what had happened with them.

Once they were all patched up as best as possible, from the man they know were informed was actually a vet, but assured that the antibiotics and what not were in fact for humans not animals, Ice Cream set about informing them of his new plan to get them out of the country and that he was finding out what he could about Rich. The vet gave them a bag of supplies and a list of instructions for everyone to follow on their journey and the team was sent on their way.

The first flight was a quiet ordeal; Patterson going over everything tech they had to ensure no one else would be able to find them, or know where they had been, Jane not taking her eyes of Weller as they worked on the teams backstories, pausing every so often to change the bandage covering the long, deep gash on his arm she had stitched up earlier, or to make him eat or drink something and ignoring his protests. While Reade and Tasha sat with them, piping in now and again, the later less often as she sat with her legs tucked up and resting more on Reade than she probably should.

They went from one mode of transport to another to another, Ice Cream getting them the information on where Rich was as they made their way there, no one quite sure if they would end up owing the man big time or if he realised they wouldn't be able to fulfil any of their promises if they were captured or dead.

By the third plane and the sixth day, they were all sore and exhausted but nearly at the black site, they had their plan and as much information that they could to go into it, but the plane ride was filled with apprehension, they all knew how much was riding on the mission and that if they failed, it not only would be bad for rich, but it could ruin their chances at clearing their names, or worse, get them killed.

"Family meeting." Patterson broke the silence of the plane, drawing confused and tired faces.

"What do you want to talk about?" Weller asked, catching the drift of her statement, the others understanding soon after.

"I know we already agreed we were in this, but I wanted to make sure everyone knew the risks of going in, we could easily get caught and never be able to clear our names." Patterson stated the thoughts that was going through everyone's head, but that they weren't quite ready to say out loud.

"Everyone might always think we were the criminals and she could get away with it all, but it's Rich." Jane explained, sharing a caring look with Weller as she did, the topic obviously something that they had discussed in private as well.

"As much as I hate to admit it, he would do the same for us." Reade confirmed what they all knew, as the group once again agreed that they were all in this together.

********************************************************

The plan to break Rich out had gone relatively smoothly until the end, a fire fight followed them out of the facility. Patterson started the getaway car, as Jane and Weller helped Rich towards it and Reade and Tasha provided cover from the back, all of them just trying to finish the mission with as little damage as possible.

Once at the car, Jane and Weller near pushed Rich into the van, turning back to provide cover to the last two just in time to see Tasha stumble slightly, Reade grabbing her arm the moment she did to try and keep her moving quickly. Patterson floored the van the second everyone was inside, Weller sliding the door shut with the momentum of the speed they were going at helping close it quicker.

"Everyone okay?" Patterson asked from the front once they had gotten a good, safe distance away, watching her family in the review mirror as she kept a closer eye on the road in front.

"I think I got nicked." Tasha interrupted the choruses of yes's, bringing a shaky hand forward as if to check for blood, the team taking in her very bloody hand with wide eyes as she calmly placed it back to her side. "Yeah, definitely did."

"Tasha!" Reade exclaimed, his tone full of concern and a hint of annoyance that she hadn't told them straight away, gently moving her hand away to look at the wound that was seeping out blood, evidently more than just a nick that she had tried to play it down to.

"How bad is it?" Patterson asked, as she pulled into a forested area that they had left their next car at, one that would be safer for them to travel in in a more densely populated area.

"She needs a doctor." Weller stated firmly, collecting the things they needed to take with them and the things that might lead anyone who found the van to them.

"I'll be fine, a doctor is too risky." Tasha brushed the concern off, reminding everyone that it wasn't as simple as walking into a hospital, they were wanted fugitives after all.

"Just keep pressure on it." Reade instructed as he helped her out of the van, letting her set the pace for the short distance across to the other car, taking over on putting pressure on it once they were seated in the car, worried that it was still seeping and the lack of an exit wound meant the bullet was still in there.

"I might know of someone who might help us, just let me make a phone call." Jane stated, pulling her phone out and dialling a number once they made it back onto the main road and her phone got service again, diving into a conversation in Russian.

Stopping at a run-down building, Jane and Weller entered first to talk to her contact, as the others waited for the all clear, which came in the way of a roller door opening to their side, allowing them to drive into the building. Patterson and Rich stepped out of the vehicle cautiously as Jane made her way to the back, opening the door and directing Reade where to take Tasha.

Placing the now barely with it brunette on the makeshift gurney, Reade tried to ignore the amount of un-sterile objects around, reminding himself that this was the best they would be able to do. The man, who Jane had explained to have met in her K&R days, went straight to work on cleaning the wound up, apologising that he didn't have a chance to get any sedatives, so until she passed out, she would feel everything, which with the blood loss and exhaustion wasn't too far into the procedure.

"She's lucky nothing was pierced." He told them as he placed a clean bandage patch over the stitched-up wound, gaining a soft thanks from the patient in question as she had regained consciousness towards the end.

He left them be for a few hours, needing the time to scrounge her up some medical supplies and needed drugs, telling her to try and rest in the meantime. The team glad for the chance figure out their next move, deciding in the end to lay low in an old Sandstorm cabin Jane knew of hidden in the middle of the forest, which would give them the time they needed to regroup and come up with a proper plan to get themselves out of the whole mess, now that the team was all together.

********************************************************

The woods were pitch black by the time they finally approached the cabin, Jane would have preferred getting their in daylight to have a better sweep of the area, but they had had to make sure they wouldn't be able to be traced.

Patterson glanced into the living area before making her way in, Tasha was curled into Reade's side as he was making his way through some of the files they had grabbed when they broke Rich out, the both looking almost peaceful in the fire light. Her hesitation at interrupting disappeared when Tasha's tired eyes met hers and she realised she wasn't asleep.

"Family meeting in five, I'll round up the others." Patterson told them, making her way to the front of the cabin.

Poking her head out the front door and knocking on a couple doors, she informed the rest of the team of the family meeting she was calling. Jane and Weller filled into the room, sitting on the couch next to Reade, while Rich chose the armchair next to them, everyone stared towards the blonde.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Jane asked amusedly, eyebrow raised at their summons.

"We need to do a run into the shops, our cupboards are less than bare." Patterson explained the reason for the meeting, a topic she had been bringing up with them separately and not actually getting anything done about it.

"Okay, you and I will go in like we decided." Jane agreed quickly, the trip into town seeming like a welcomed change from being boxed in the cabin as if she was back locked in a safehouse, which in many ways it was.

"No, I'll go." Weller stated, worried about the million issues they could face in a more populated area, Jane placing her hand on his knee and shaking her head with a lopsided smirk, shutting his request down.

"Why do you two get to go?" Rich complained, the spark coming back in his eyes after having had a chance to recoup from what had happened to him, a topic they had yet to push and he wasn't sharing about.

"Well, we just broke you out of a CIA black site so you definitely can't, I don't trust Weller with shopping, Tasha's in no state and Reade is not going to leave her, with some makeup and wigs, Jane and I will go undetected." Patterson ran through the reasons it had to be her and Jane that go, leaving no room for anyone to fight her reasoning.

"Speaking of those two," Rich started with a glance towards Tasha and Reade, receiving a glare from both, "At what point did they have less personal space than Jane and Weller?"

"About the second day of this." Weller stated with a shrug, with everything that had happened, it hadn't been something that had been at the top of their list of concerns or things to talk about.

"And we are all just ignoring it?" Rich continued on his line of questioning, watching as Tasha's head fell back onto Reade's shoulder, as if proving his point further.

"Makes for easier sleeping arrangements?" Jane chuckled, since the first safe house in Iceland that Reade had chosen to sit on the bed Tasha was laying on, they two had continued with choosing the same space, whether just so they could be sure the other was okay or something more, there wasn't the time or the need to ask about it.

"And, it is them two, they've always been close." Patterson stated, moving to sit on the final armchair in the room, having decided her family meeting was going to go on for longer than she had planned.

"I mean, I know I always joked about it, but I wasn't actually ever sure they were a thing." Rich explained, the gossiper inside him fishing for more information.

"Wasn't she the reason his engagement ended?" Weller asked without thinking, gaining a pillow in the arm from his wife and glares from the two in question, as he realised he had said that out loud.

"Wait, that's a thing everyone thinks?" Rich exclaimed as if he was a kid getting told he was going to Disneyland, glancing between his newfound gossip buddy and the two sporting matching glares.

"Kurt." Jane jumped in sternly before he could even begin to respond, her undertone clear as he sat back, removing himself from the line of discussion as he took his wife's warning.

"Anyway, did anyone have any requests?" Patterson changed the subject awkwardly, the last thing the small cabin needed was tension.

"I'll write you a list." Rich said, accepting the change of subject easily, only because he was worried if he didn't, he wouldn't get the items he wanted.

"Some decent snacks, anything not Jerky related." Reade stated, every time he had opened a cupboard in the kitchen, he had come across Jerky and every time the team had had to hear his complaints on the food.

"Oh, some decent alcohol." Rich added, as he reached for a pen and paper to start his list, wanting to make sure not to miss anything he wanted.

"Jane will know what I like." Weller chose the easy option, smiling at his wife as he spoke.

"Some board games or something, the boredoms setting in." Rich spoke more to himself than the team, writing his statement down as he did.

"Tash? I'll get you some more bandage supplies, but anything else?" Jane asked quietly, tilting her head to catch the younger agent's eye.

"I'm good thanks." Tasha gave her a small smile, her tone tired and lacking her usual fire.

"Come on, surely there's something you want." Patterson pressed softly, gaining only a shake of a head in response.

"So, we are ignoring that she's barely eating or sleeping too?" Rich asked the group, a hint of real concern to his question.

"It's the least you can do, seeing's as I took a bullet for you." Tasha snapped back, her voice carrying a touch more life than it had been, but still a long way from her usual self.

"That's fair." The truth to her statement making Rich drop the subject easily as he went back to writing his list.

"I'll try and see what over the counter meds we can get you, I know its not fun having injuries like that without at least pain meds. But any food requests?" Jane asked again, a near mothering tone setting in that the other agent would have called her on normally, but this time didn't even seem to register.

"I'm good, really." Tasha stated once more, she was barely able to eat without feeling sick, that wasn't something that made her feel like anything in particular.

"So, Family meeting over?" Weller pointed his question towards the blonde who had called it, breaking the silence that had taken over the room, gaining a nod in response.

"I vote we do more of these when we are back home, free and clear." Rich stated as he handed over his list of requests, the team all smiling at the idea.

********************************************************

"The guys are going out hunting, so I figured us girls could have a drink." Patterson explained to the two in front of her, after having dragged them into the kitchen with her.

"Good plan." Jane agreed quickly, collecting them each a wine glass from a cupboard and skimming the collection of wine bottles they had to choose from.

"That one." The blonde stated, pointing to one of the bottles with certainty, even though she didn't even read the label.

"You just chose that one at random." Tasha laughed, the other two smiling at the sound, glad that they were starting to get their friend back.

"No, I didn't, it's a great vintage." Patterson tried to back up her choice with something that would sound feasible.

"I think someone started without us." Jane spoke to Tasha, ignoring the protests from the third member of their group.

"Fine, you guys took too long to join me." Patterson caved, making her way across to the dining table with her chosen bottle and another she had grabbed on her way.

"You told us 10 minutes and then came back 5 minutes later to get us?" Tasha tried to reason, sitting across from the blonde as Jane sat on the seat next to Patterson.

"Because you were taking too long." The blonde stated once more, pouring everyone a glass as they relished being closer to the wood fire.

"Why did we stop doing this?" Jane asked, it felt like it had been years since they had had a good girls night out.

"I don't know, but we should definitely pick it back up when we are cleared." Patterson more demanded than requested, finishing her glass off.

"If we are cleared." Tasha spoke flatly, playing with her glass but never actually taking a drink.

"Well then, wherever we end up" Jane told the group, ignoring the negative side of the statement.

"I'm not sure they would let us in whatever deep dark hole they want to throw us in, but sure, sounds good." Tasha joked back with a smirk, she had missed this, but she wasn't prepared to fully commit to anything that had a happy ending just yet.

"How are you feeling?" Jane asked sincerely, putting an end to the topic at hand.

"Less like I got blown up and then shot." The woman across the table stated, finally having a sip of the wine in front of her, almost as to prove she was feeling better.

"Well you are starting to look better than you have been, that's for sure." Patterson pipped up with a warm smile, gaining a nod in agreeance from the woman next to her as she spoke.

"What are you saying?" Tasha feigning insult from the statement as she glanced between her two friends.

"We are just glad you're starting to heal, you had us worried for a while there, I think Reade was ready to kidnap a doctor for you." Patterson explained her statement further, smiling at her friend genuinely, wanting her to know they really were all happy she was getting back to her old self.

"Speaking of whom, are you still going with the just friend's line?" Jane questioned, staring Tasha down as if it was an interrogation, the wine in her hand throwing her intended look off a fraction.

"She didn't always go with that." The blonde turned to her fellow interrogator with a smirk, swirling the wine in her glass before taking a sip.

"What do you mean?" Jane switched her attention to her other friend, her tone light and inquisitive.

"Did you ever tell him? I always wondered if that's why he broke off his engagement to Meg." Patterson asked the quiet member of the drinking group, trying to keep her voice steady and serious but falling just a bit short.

"You told him you loved him, didn't you?" Jane questioned, filling up everyone's glasses as she did, a little part of her disappointed that Tasha's was barely touched and that she wasn't going to be able to use the alcohol to get her talking.

"I would rather not talk about it." Tasha tried shutting them down but watching as the other two continued with their drinks, she knew that that would be harder to do than usual.

"What else are we going to talk about, we are in the middle of no where hiding for our lives." Jane countered, a slight whine to her voice, for a group that would usually be hunting terrorists and other bad people, they were all getting bored trapped in the forest.

"Will you just answer one question?" Patterson attempted a different tactic, trying to hold back a smirk that would affect the chance of her getting a yes to her request.

"Maybe." Choosing to go with a safe answer, Tasha decided to at least hear the question out, taking a small sip of wine to prepare herself for it.

"Have you guys ever crossed that line?" The blonde asked the question that she had wanted to know for a while now but hadn't been in a position that she felt she could.

The way in which Tasha dipped her head slightly and stared at the wine in her glass before looking up, was all the answer the other two needed and as soon as she glanced towards them, still trying to formulate a response, she knew that she had given them the answer already.

"Seriously, when?" Patterson exclaimed, eyes wide as she took in the information, a quick glance at Jane told her that she was reeling too.

"You said one question, this isn't twenty questions." Tasha responded with more bite than she had had in a while, turning away from them at the sound of someone entering the cabin.

"Oh, this sounds like a fun game." Rich stated as he entered the open plan living area, eyes going bright with excitement when he realised he had walked into a wine drinking session.

"Weren't you out hunting with Weller and Reade?" Jane asked, sharing a smirk with the rest of the table.

"Think over that sentence and I think you will have you're answer." Rich told her, collecting his own glass, along with another bottle of wine and joining them at the table, sitting at the head to allow him to be closer to the wood fire.

"They sent you back, didn't they?" Jane questioned with a laugh, she had been surprised that they had let him go with them in the first place and even more so that he had wanted to go with them.

"One hundred percent, so what are we grilling Tasha about, I'm guessing Reade?" Rich asked the group, as he set about catching up on the drinking side of things, all while also catching up on the gossip side too.

"You using my name sounds weird." Tasha told him casually with a slight scrunch to her nose, hoping he would forget what he had walked into.

"Well, I thought it was only fair, I mean you have saved my life and Boston's now, but don't try and change the subject." He explained, catching her out on her plan as he poured himself another glass, topping up the other twos at the same time.

"Since you've been living together?" Patterson went back to her line of questioning she had started before they had been interrupted, her voice starting to lose it seriousness as the alcohol set in.

"From some of the conversations we have had recently, I wouldn't have thought you two had crossed that line, but knowing that you have, I would guess before you went deep cover?" Jane stated, running through her thoughts as she spoke as she made her conclusion, one that she decided was right based on the lack of any response from the brunette across from her.

"I'm glad you've been talking to someone about it." Patterson said after a moment, as she rerun through the other woman's statement and realised that the two had been having the types of chats that her and Tasha used too.

"It's not like we've been talking a lot." Tasha felt the need to clarify, she was happy to be on talking terms again, but she couldn't help but miss the quality talks she and Patterson used to have.

"I think I've started all the conversations we've had on the topic." Jane stated with a hint of humour, picking up on the underlying tone and trying to not hurt anyone's feelings.

"No, it's good, you and I haven't really spent much time together since you got back, plus it wasn't like we were really talking when you left." Patterson assured her friend, she knew that they hadn't been close friends in a while and a part of her was glad that at least she had had someone to talk to.

"I'm glad we are back talking though." Tasha spoke softly, she had hated the way things had been after the Borden mess and that the two of them hadn't fully mended their fences when she had gone deep cover.

"Me too, I couldn't deal with the passive aggressive fighting in the lab." Rich added, breaking the seriousness to the conversation with a gulp of wine and a chuckle.

"So, obviously you said something to him and that broke his engagement up, and then not too long after you went deep cover, so you must have slept together sometime during that time frame. Which would explain why he took you leaving and apparent betrayal so hard." Patterson ran through what they had managed to more or less get out of Tasha and the small bits and pieces that they already knew.

"Did you guys sleeping together break his engagement up?" Rich exclaimed suddenly, watching her with a shocked expression, as the other two joined in with serious looks awaiting her response.

"What, no!" Tasha clarified quickly, the rest of the gang looking amongst each other before slowly nodding in agreeance that they took her answer to be truthful.

"More wine please." Patterson requested, handing her glass out to Jane with a lopsided grin, the latter of which gladly taking the glass and filling it.

"We should do more family drinking nights." Rich spoke fondly, passing his glass over for more as well.

********************************************************

"Family meeting." Patterson yelled throughout the cabin; her glass raised above her head as she tried not to spill any of her wine.

"We are already all in the same room." Weller stated, he and Reade had returned a little while ago to drop off a deer they had caught and had planned to head back out, only to find the impromptu girls night going on and felt it best to stay and make sure they stayed out of trouble.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Tasha asked her friend; she had tried to cut her off earlier as well, but Patterson had stated she only would if she got the full twenty questions.

"No." she responded, stumbling as she sat back on her chair at the table. "Maybe."

"What do you want?" Reade questioned her, reminding her that she had called for everyone's attention but never stated why.

"Does anyone know how to cook bread?" Patterson stared down everyone at the table as if it was a question they would lie about, her glaze as serious as it could be.

"What?" Weller was the first to respond, his brows furrowed as he was thrown by the question.

"Yes, that's what we need." Jane agreed with enthusiasm as her and Patterson turned to each other with excited looks.

"Oh my god, we can add the herbs I found in the forest." Rich added, jumping on board with the plan as well.

"No, they were just tree leaves." Weller stated sternly, suddenly very glad that he had decided to stay and already formulating how to hide the rest of the wine.

"Herbs are leaves Kurt." Jane informed him in a serious tone, ignoring a snicker from Tasha and Reade across the table.

"You are not putting the random tree leaves that Rich found in your food." Weller explained his statement further, leaving no room for discussion on the matter, feeling as though he was talking to Bethany.

"But we can make bread?" Patterson questioned when she realised he hadn't said no to that part of the idea.

"You probably don't have ingredients to." Tasha reasoned, her tone even and lacking any effects of the alcohol, watching as Rich started browsing on his highly encrypted phone, no doubt for a recipe.

"How are you the least drunk out of them?" Reade dipped his head to ask her, a hint of amusement and wonder to his words, usually this was something he would have expected her to get right into.

"I'm just starting to feel right; you really think I want to be hungover?" She responded with a grin, trying to play down just how much she wanted to just feel normal and not be affected by some injury or drug or wine.

"I found a recipe with minimal ingredients, that I'm pretty sure I have seen all of in our cupboards." Rich yelled from his seat, showing his phone screen around the table with a smug look on his face.

"Yay!" Patterson and Jane shouted in union, jumping up to follow Rich into the kitchen.

"I guess that's another family meeting finished." Weller spoke quietly to the two remaining members, "So how about we hide this wine?"

#blindspot #blindspot fic #tasha zapata #jane doe #patterson #edgar reade #kurt weller #rich dotcom #tasha x reade #jane x kurt #jeller #rapata #post season 4 #oneshot #myfics