#I had to trace a family guy frame for this you better make it worth it smh

[cinnamnt]

most normal zosan interaction

based on this reddit post

[obscure-imagines]

*Horror genre/smut warning*

-He’d be very tentative to catch feelings for anyone because he’s a very depressed boi

-quiet guy is hard to get to know, especially after an apocalyptic event

-Even if you’re survivors together, he’s just kind of going to be floating around quietly, so if you want to get to know Hyunsu, you’re going to have to make an effort

-Hyunsu is drawn to beautiful things, things that inspire hope (music, kids, etc...) and he can enjoy pleasurable things for a time, but Hyunsu is always terrified that good things will be torn from his grasp, so he never wants to let himself love something too easily

-Boy has his found family, so being accepted by his loved ones would be really important.

-It would be the elder survivors like Han and Gilseob who notice the connection between you and Hyunsu first

-i’m talking hard core pining, long looks, Hyunsu’s eyes finding you any time you enter a room, but you’re both oblivious to each other

-It’s a tough situation because Hyunsu is still treated like a monster at times, and people are obviously scared of his dark side

-Hyunsu can’t even imagine getting close to you, for fear that he’ll hurt you

-his monster alter ego even toys with him by mentioning you sometimes, further increasing the poor boys anxiety

-He’d get growingly agitated any time you have to put yourself in danger, and always ends up going places with you just to make sure you’re protected

-it starts with him just kind of shadowing you when you head up to your apartment for something one day

-the building is pretty much safe, but when you catch Hyunsu out of the corner of your eye, you almost have a heart attack, which he apologizes profusely for

-he goes with you to your room and is kind of awkward at your door because you’re a pretty girl and he’s about to go into your apartment, even if it is a post apocalyptic world, boy has manners

-He’s also just very big and tall, so even though he kind of hunches over, he sticks out like a sore thumb in your apartment

-he’s so quiet, but once you find something you both mutually enjoy to talk about, he begins to loosen up

-he continues shadowing you, he’s pretty much your designated monster survival partner 

-at dinners you start to eat together and everyone is low key hoping you both work out, but are also worried about what it could mean for you if Hyunsu turns full monster out of the blue one day

-He’s very hesitant to allow you to touch him, so you’d have to start small

-like maybe you offer to help him clean up some residual blood left on his skin after he’s healed from a fight

-Hyunsu all but holds his breath while you wipe his skin

-big uwu boy, heart eyes to the extreme

-he honestly just needs a good cuddle and one day, after a particularly rough event where you almost die, Hyunsu is too tired to be in full control of himself, so when you crawl into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his frame, Hyunsu allows himself to enjoy it

-the biggest soft boy is the small spoon sometimes cuz he really needs it

-he falls asleep in your arms and it’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in maybe years

-when he wakes up, he rolls to cuddle against your chest, still half asleep and unaware of what he’s doing until he can hear the beat of your heart under his ear and realizes you’re not just a pleasantly warm pillow

-boy practically jumps out of the bed and needs to be pulled back into your embrace

-if you start massaging his scalp and holding him to your chest- he’s going to die, like, he’ll never be happier

-He craves your cuddles like nothing else in the whole world, and allows himself more and more to be happy when he’s with you, and to be with you often

-seeing him smile is so odd, people are shook

-the first day you grab his hand in front of people makes his heart melt

-the two of you are simply waiting for dinner, and you grab his hand, playing with his fingers casually

-you don’t even notice how impactful the gesture is

-after dinner, Hyunsu finds himself swept away by the key men of the group, Han thinks it’s all very cute, Gilseob agrees with Han but he’s worried like Eunhyeok that Hyunsu could be a danger to you. Sangwook is just there because they dragged him along

-Hyunsu is still worried he could hurt you and you notice him pulling away after his discussion with the guys, which leads to him fully communicating to you all his fears about being a monster and not being good enough for you

-squash all his anxieties with a kiss

-Hyunsu will melt against you, your lips are the best cure for his busy mind

-if you tug a little at his hair boy will be whipped forever

-once he opens up to you, he’ll tell you everything

-time spent cuddling and just talking

-tracing his scars and kissing them, telling him you’ll never leave him

-him being worried about becoming a monster but you’re so determined he won’t- and you won’t let him try to avoid you for your ‘own safety’ so he’s pretty much just stuck with loving you and accepting that you make him happy and he’s allowed to be happy

-helping him cut his hair and being shook by how much younger he looks

- “do you like it?” he wants to make sure you still like his new hair

-he’s so much more boyish- it honestly makes it worse when his hair is short because people have been straight up offering him up to really hard jobs because he ‘cant die’

-like, you’re going to be fiercely protective of this boy, just as he is of you

-yeah he’s the one that ‘cant die’ but if someone tries to be even slightly mean to him, you’re jumping in and throwing fists

-’oh? you guys think it’s a good idea to sacrifice him to the military/government for our survival? time to meet my fists’ you’ll jump in swinging i swear to god

-you would probably be down to fight Eunhyuck on the daily for how he treats Hyunsu like his watch dog/hound

-low key everyone is prepared to wake up and find you and Hyunsu just gone one day

-he looks at you with the biggest heart eyes, like, boy is so in love with you and anyone can see it

-he’s going to cherish any time with you

-nights are for cuddles and memorizing your face in the moonlight that comes through the windows

-will find you cute little gifts, like, if he knows you like certain books or stuff like that he’ll keep an eye out for things to amuse you when he’s looking for supplies 

-being way too fucking cute. like. this is an apocalypse and this man is just out here being a full fucking simp for you im-

-be careful as he gets more in love with you though because if someone threatens you, his monster side will pop out

-you’re feeling fragile one day and someone says something rude about Hyunsu and ‘how much time he has left’ and when Hyunsu finds you crying, his eyes go black and his monster side demands you tell him who he has to go kill for you

-after that, you can be certain his monster side won’t ever hurt you, which makes Hyunsu feel a lot more relaxed

-boy finally lets you touch him for longer than like five minutes because he’s not scared of loosing himself when he’s with you anymore

-ok, let’s be real, ya’ll would find ways to fuck even during the apocalypse

-boy deserves it. he DESERVES IT I TELL YOU

-soft honey boy, starts so soft, so much kissing and foreplay

-you’d really have to initiate things going farther than just kissing, and he’d worship you if you undressed for him

-10/10 will tell you he loves you while buried completely inside of you

-lots of gripping and passion, breathless kisses, hand holding and finger squeezing

-let him burry his face in your neck

-the sweetest aftercare filled with cuddles, hugs, kisses, and sweet words of affirmation

-he’s super shy about petnames, but you pet your ass that this big soft boi is going to let ‘jagiya’ (honey/sweetheart) slip every once and again.

-super shy about pda around other people, but you purposefully like to show how much you love him to make everyone else think twice about being mean to him or prejudice because he’s ‘infected’, whatever that even means.

-stealing his massive clothes

-taking care of him in ways that count, like making sure his depression doesn’t get the better of him being able to complete basic tasks, like cleaning him after a fight and making sure he eats properly

-being Hyunsu’s proof that humans can live with monsters, because you’ll never let him go and you love him

-i mean, not even going to lie, 10/10 Hyunsu would make living in monster world worth it

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 5 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, an angry Nesta and a heart-broken Cassian

2094 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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

Nesta had never been one for small talk but in his presence she spoke as if she was excellent in small talk. They spoke of all unimportant things and ended up forgetting the important stuff; their names. Again.

Feyre sent an invitation for her first anniversary party as she did for every other occasion. The only thing different was that Nesta never bothered to pay heed to her invitations before. After the day in the alley, however, she decided she was going to turn over a new leaf. This was her first step.

She checked her reflection on the side-mirror. She tried to keep her outfit and make-up as simple as possible. She only wore a white ruffled-sleeved blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her hair was braided into a coronet. She looked good, but not as good as she’ll look if she took her own time to do a detailed make-over. She let out a breath and braced herself for the inevitable little chat with her sisters.

“Nesta?” a bewildered voice breathed. She whirled around to face her younger sister, Elain, looking up at her, a small smile playing about her lips. “You’re here,” she said and flung her arms around Nesta. Nesta automatically wrapped her arms around Elain’s smaller frame. Eventually, Elain pulled back.

“No offense, but I really thought you wouldn’t be coming,” Elain said.

Nesta felt as if the smile on her face couldn't be wiped out for the next few hours. “Honestly, I didn't think I'd come either. But here I am.”

She nodded and pulled Nesta to the garden the party was held at.

“I did this,” Elain said. “This garden, I planted and groomed all this.”

“No wonder why it looks so beautiful,” Nesta replied.

She flushed and said contemplatively, “You're so different now, Nesta.”

“I hope in a good way. Where's Feyre?”

“Let's go meet everyone first.”

Nesta shook her head. “I— I need to talk to both of you before I meet everyone else. ”

Elain hesitated then said, “Can you wait in that room? I'll fetch Feyre and come.”

Nesta nodded and headed to the door at the end of the garden Elain pointed at. The room was classy, much like the exterior of the house. She was struck by the simple yet grand theme of Feyre's house. She knew he and his brothers were rich but she just didn't understand the extent of their wealth. Till now.

“What are you thinking?” Feyre wasn't the type to blindly trust people. It took more than coming for her anniversary to persuade her that Nesta's intentions were good.

Nesta faced Feyre, her youngest sister, who stood before her, gorgeous yet fierce in a simple but elegant blue gown. She shrugged, “Just thinking that I'm glad my sisters were well-provided when I couldn't take care of them.”

Feyre’s face didn’t change, she just gestured towards the couches. “Have a seat,” she said.

Nesta sat down, “You both look splendid,” she said. Feyre said that the gown was a gift, Elain thanked Nesta and offered the same.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I need to tell the both of you something. Many things, actually.”

Elain nodded encouragingly. Feyre said, “Go on.”

So Nesta spoke. She apologised. For how she wasn't there to fulfill the role of an elder sister. For how she failed to attend Feyre's marriage and many other occasions. For all the rude words she spoke to them. For shunning them. She apologised for being self consumed. For everything else.

She also promised. To try harder. To become better. To be a good sister and sister-in-law. To be with them at all times, especially when they needed her. And they listened.

“I know these words aren't enough, but I'll try to make it so,” she finished, her hands clasped with both her sisters on her sides.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. We will too,” Feyre said.

“I see a very bright future ahead of us,” Elain said.

Nesta couldn't help the tears anymore. She folded her arms around her sisters and tucked them close. Her sisters. Her beloved sisters she now knew she'd do anything to protect.

“I see a very bright future too,” Nesta said.

Nesta pulled back after what felt like an hour and looked at her sisters' tear-streaked faces.

“I love you,” the three of them said simultaneously. Nesta giggled. Elain laughed. Feyre stared.

Nesta gently brushed the tears from both of their cheeks. “I don't want to see any of you crying.”

She hugged them again, willing the hug to convey everything she didn't say out loud.

“Now, now, enough snuggling. We've got a party to attend and people to meet, remember?” Feyre said.

***

Cassian was anxious. He had always hoped Nesta, his sister-in-law, would come for the gatherings they had; be it family dinners, or birthday parties, or the random meetings they had when they just got tipsy and played games. He hadn't seen her face-to-face before. All he knows about Nesta are from the descriptions from Feyre and Elain. That, too, was minimal. One of them would quickly change the topic to something pleasant the moment traces of an emotional breakdown were visible. Every time he hoped, he was let down. She never came. He vowed he would stop hoping and instead just go about and act as if she didn't exist. But that never happened. Every time his family met, his treacherous heart would start hoping only to have a chunk of it fall off when she failed to attend. Today was no different.

Then there’s the woman who he’d been talking to the whole afternoon. He was a tangled up mess of emotions and doubt and confusion. He had been sort-of pining after Nesta. She was exactly the person he’d like. Apparently she was drop-dead gorgeous, witty and… feral. Feyre said that. Feral. She’d be someone worth seeing. She was totally a worthy opponent. It’d be fun. But the other woman? Mother above, she was ethereal. More than ethereal, in fact. Words can't contain what he had to say about her.

He was damn near killing Az for calling him right when they were about to exchange names. He really can't believe he was a hairsbreadth away from knowing her before it was all ripped away. Now they were back to square one. He didn't know anything about her.

Azriel clapped him on his back so hard that he almost stumbled and fell. Or probably that was because he was too distracted. “All good Somm?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied noncommittally. He busied his hands with re-rinsing the champagne flutes and wiping them clean again. He did this two times already. Still.

“Mood is sour today, Cass?” Az teased, mock-frowning.

“Nah,” Cassian said wryly, “it's as sweet as honeydew. Especially today, when my chat got interrupted.” He glared at Azriel.

“Now, now, that is a story for another day. For now though, I think I've got something that can cheer up your brooding self.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

Az grinned. “Nesta is here.”

***

Feyre and Elain took Nesta on a quick tour around the house. Feyre’s paintings were hung on the walls throughout the whole house. Nesta grimly noticed that there wasn't a single picture of her. There were even paintings of their father whose heart had long stopped beating. But none of hers. If only she didn’t push herself away, Nesta would’ve been a happy part of her sisters’ lives.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Feyre took her hand in hers. Elain tucked herself to Nesta’s side, wrapping her arms over her slender shoulders.

Nesta already met Mor, a stunning blonde woman, and Amren, a slightly intimidating and short person. Now she only had to meet her brother-in-laws.

“Let’s go meet the boys!” Elain said brightly.

We walked back to the garden. Feyre seemed to get more and more elated the closer we got to the garden. Huh. Probably falling in love would do that to someone. Anyway, as long as her sisters were happy.

They stepped through the doorway. The garden was decorated with more banners and streamers hung on the back of chairs and on the low branches. Again, it looked opulent in a simple way.

There were three men in the centre of the garden, gathered around a table. They all were slightly similar, broad shouldered, tapered waists, muscular limbs. Three of them wore formal shirts and pants clinging to their frames. The one in the middle was Rhysand, she supposed. She smirked internally. Of course Feyre ended up with this guy. She's got a good taste. Must've gotten it from the oldest sister.

The one on the right, though. His figure felt familiar. Very, very familiar. She couldn't quite put a finger on it yet.

“The one on the left is Azriel, the one on the right is Cassian,” Feyre said, and Nesta nodded.

The boys must be really engrossed with their conversation. They hadn't noticed the three of them yet.

The guy she thought was familiar threw his head back and laughed. She gasped. That laugh. She'd know the laugh anywhere. Indeed, when he angled his face so that she could get a glimpse, she knew she was done for. She swallowed with much difficulty.

“I need to go,” she said quickly.

“Go? But— but we haven't cut the cake yet. It's still early. We've got lots more fun stuff,” Elain said.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. Only, this doesn't feel like 'trying',” Feyre said.

They sounded… hurt.

Mother above, I'm doing this wrong.

“Nesta?” Elain asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Feyre added, “you look pale.”

“Y-yeah it's f-fine. Kinda. My head hurts,” she said, accidentally clutching her stomach. “I-I mean, yeah my head hurts. Very badly. I gotta go.” She looked helplessly at both of them. “I'm so sorry. I really am. It's just— I think I need rest. I'll recompense. Probably dinner in three days?” They both shared a look and agreed.

Nesta was already walking away. “Love you both,” she threw over her shoulder.

***

“Feyre!” Rhys called. He beckoned Feyre and Elain to the table. He didn't see Nesta.

Cassian lightly kissed Feyre on her cheek once they made their way to the table and said, “Gorgeous as always. Happy anniversary!”

Feyre grinned, but it showed traces of disappointment.

He frowned. “Hey, what's wrong?”

She just shook her head and mumbled, “Nesta.” Rhys's face hardened. His brother was never fond of Nesta. He said that she was why Feyre was always worried.

“Where's Nesta?” Az asked, craning his neck to see behind farther.

“She… left,” Elain pointed, revealing a figure disappearing behind the gates. A figure he knew all too well. Shitshitshitshit.

His head snapped back to his brothers. “That is Nesta?” he damn near shouted.

Rhys scowled, “Yeah.”

No wonder why she's so beautiful, he thought dumbly before running after her with a quick “I'll be back.”

***

Nesta was wrong. In all her happiness of being reunited with her sisters, she completely forgot how even a small thing can break one's smile. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She kept her calm demeanour, but inside, she was a raging storm of emotions.

One step in front of the other, she kept reminding herself.

She kept walking. Even when she heard footsteps. Even when the steps got louder. Even as he got close enough to cease running.

But not when he called her name. She halted. Locked up her emotions. She knew she shouldn't but she turned around anyway.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Nesta,” he breathed. She tried to hold back her shudder. It was from the night air, she told herself.

“If you have nothing to say, do let me know. I'm not going to wait forever,” she said. Harsher than she intended to. But she didn't care, at least, that's what she told herself.

Cassian winked, “I'm honored you came, sweetheart. I'll pass the credit to my influence on you. ”

She ground her teeth against the truth threatening to fall off her lips. Yes, I came here because you made me happy. And I thought that if I tried, as I did with you, I can rebuild my relationship with my sisters.

***

Cassian did something stupid. He grabbed her hand. Her eyes snapped to his, burning with anger. Like the day they first met.

He gave her a crooked grin that he knew would drive her mad. Well, more than she already was. He tilted his head to the garden, “The party is that way, love.”

She snatched back her hand at continued walking. Like a fool, he followed. “I spoke to my sisters. Told them I won't be staying tonight. And that we'll have dinner in three day's time. Does that satisfy you? Now, can you stop following me?”

“Something's wrong. What's wrong, Nes?”

“One,” she ground out, “don't call me that. Two, I'm a grown-ass woman; I know how to take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter.”

“You did. That day,” he said quietly.

She whirled on him, “Is this you taking back favours? Because I'm not interested. You want money? Take it. Tell me your price and fucking take it! Don't tread on my heels because you helped me, okay? I've got way better things to do.” She paused, “And don't follow me, Cassian.”

She turned and stalked away.

You want money? Take it. 'Take it.' As if he were a beggar, asking for alms. As if they weren't laughing at each other's jokes not more than an hour ago. As if he didn't spend a week taking care of her as if she were a part of his soul. Maybe she was.

But that was before, Cassian thought as his heart cleaved into two perfect halves. No— it smashed to a million tiny pieces.

He waited till Nesta was out of his line of sight. He turned and walked back to the garden, leaving his heart behind.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

[fleckcmscott]

Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04​ for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too. 

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @rafaelbottom​ @ralugraphics​ @iartsometimes​

[tiifalockhart]

Safety

@wistful-wings​ asked: Since you asked, request time! :D Somehow a degrading Genesis winds up in a soft warm bed with someone looking after him because damn he's sick the guy needs some love and care damnnit.

Pairing: Genesis x Reader

Warnings: mentions of starving, death, trauma, depression and anxiety.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I have finally delivered the Genesis content. Hope this is okay!! Thank you so much for your request, feedback is always appreciated!

Ao3 || Masterlist

Everything was cold.

His skin was cracking, his fingertips were permanently cold, his hair and features had all turned an ash grey. It was a curse: living a life where Genesis already knew his fate. No matter how hard he fought, he was trapped in a shell that was falling apart. He fought like hell to end up losing to himself. 

Every day, breathing became more and more of a chore. His on-setting depression began to consume him. Sephiroth’s words from Nibleheim rang in his mind unendingly, he was constantly reminded of what he was to become.

“You will rot.”

One of his only friends throughout his life, his partner, his idol (no matter how much he hated to admit it now) had destroyed him with those three simple words. He felt like shit. Genesis ruined everything... Now Angeal was dead, and Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. All of this for revenge... If he had quietly left, maybe they would still be alive, maybe they would have come with him. 

As much as he hated Shinra for what they did to him and the others... It certainly wasn’t worth losing everything.

For years, he had been hiding from anyone and everyone. He was afraid to show his face, the shame and guilt of what he’d done consumed him. What would Angeal do if he were still alive? He would have turned himself in... Or something like that, wouldn’t he? Dammit. It was conflicting... Genesis was so unsure of himself majority of the time now. 

He was so cold and lonely, his body was failing him in more ways than one, and his intrusive thoughts certainly didn’t make the long and dreadful days go by any faster. Life was... Painful to say the least. Genesis managed to find a cave to hide in, somewhere where the sunlight wouldn’t give him migraines, where the public eye couldn’t find him, he felt surprisingly safer in that cave than he did with his own thoughts.  He struggled to find peace, his mind screamed at him over and over about how he was a monster, how he killed his friends and how he deserved this unbearable fate. 

Eventually, the pain of existing became too overwhelming one day, and he found himself wandering through Midgar aimlessly, trying to find some kind of release from this dreadful life. He thought it was the end for sure this time, his coughing had gotten worse, his limbs were weaker than ever, his skin was pale and his hair was the color of the Modeoheim snow. He didn’t have enough power within himself to perform a fire spell to attempt to warm himself up again. He knew this was the end. Maybe... It was for the better.

When he blacked out finally, no one would have ever known he was gone. Genesis was a distant memory at this point, who would have cared about his disappearance? He prepared himself to face the meaningless afterlife, to be rejected by the Lifestream and simply float out to nonexistence. 

So, when he heard that gentle voice coaxing him back to life and reality, confusion hit him like a truck. Genesis thought he was dead for sure this time, so why was it he could hear a voice calling out to him?

“-ello?”

“Are you okay?”

“Wake up, you’re safe now.”

Confusion flooded Genesis’ features when he stirred. He wasn’t floating aimlessly in the Lifestream... He was alive still... Somehow. His eyes examined the room around him. He appeared to be in a bedroom, small potted plants and knick-knacks decorating the open space. Next to him, he noticed you sitting in a chair, a look of concern decorating your features. Once he was full aware and all his senses returned to him, he sat up quickly, a distrusting glare taking over his features. 

“Where am I?!” He demanded, staring over at you. You raised your hands in surrender automatically, your eyes widening at his sudden outburst. 

“You’re... You’re in my house. I saw you passed out, I thought you were hurt-” You explained hurriedly, sitting back in your seat. “I made you food... And brought some water.” 

He raised a brow and glanced over at the plate and cup sitting on the bedside table. From what he could see, it was already better than anything he had been eating for the past years. Hesitantly, he relaxed a little, nodding lightly. “Thank you.” Genesis muttered softly.

A sigh of relief left your lips as he seemed to calm down. “Are you feeling okay? Do you feel sick? Maybe weak?” You asked, examining him for any injuries. He shook his head slowly, frowning slightly. 

“No, I feel normal.” He lied, even though his mind was racing with thoughts. Why did you take him in? Why did you trust him? It didn’t make sense. Do you not know who he is? He was bewildered from your... Normal response to him. 

You nodded awkwardly in response. “Well... You can make yourself at home until you’re ready to go.” You stated, standing and heading towards the closet. “I have some old clothes that might fit you. You can also use the bath if you wish.” You explained, placing a couple of towels on the foot of the bed, along with an oversized sweater and sweatpants combo. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here... I couldn’t leave you there, though.” 

Genesis looked over at the outfit and towels, narrowing his eyes slightly. Now you’ve decided to take care of him? He didn’t deserve it, he was a murderer, a manipulator, a... Monster. Monsters don’t deserve to be taken care of. He pushed those thoughts away quickly, attempting to find his voice once again. “Thank you.” He responded, his voice sounding strained. It sounded like he was forcing it out. 

However, you didn’t waver. You simply assumed it was him struggling to be thankful, which was fairly naïve. How were you supposed to guess that he was having an internal battle between his confusion and his intrusive thoughts? “Well... I’ll be downstairs. Dinner will be ready soon, you should come downstairs after you bathe, if you’d like.” You explained, nodding awkwardly. 

Genesis didn’t respond this time. He was unsure of what to say. The tension in the room simply grew thicker the longer you stayed there, so you left fairly quickly. After the door closed again, Genesis let out a breath of relief as he pushed himself off the bed and stumbled over to the mirror. His hair was still white, all color had vanished from it. His dark circles, his pale complexion, his colorless eyes all stayed the same. No wonder you brought him in, he looked like he was on the brink of death. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled away from the mirror, unable to stand looking at himself anymore. Instead, he distracted himself with moving to the bathroom. Walking was a chore in itself, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else at the moment. Dammit, why was he so weak? He used to fight battles back to back, now he can barely walk a few steps without feeling like collapsing. 

After finally reaching the bathroom, he took his time with bathing, appreciating the feeling of warm water flowing down his back. The scar on his back appreciated it too, it didn’t sting when the water hit it just right. It was... Nice. His sore muscles could relax a little, while his limbs slowly regained their strength. Once he was out of the shower, he pulled on the loose clothing, silently appreciating the looseness and comfort of them. 

Just as you requested, Genesis arrived downstairs awhile after the two of you parted. His eyes scanned over everything in the house, he noticed small mementos from your family and friends, picture frames of different people, random things that managed to explain the type of person you are. He also noticed that the small dining table was set for two people, you and himself he assumed. Out of everything he noticed though, you were nowhere to be found. He checked the kitchen, the living room, and the dining room once again. There were no traces of you anywhere. A confused expression settled on his features, until he heard the front door open. Hesitantly, he entered the room and raised a brow once he saw you. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you would be done so quickly.” You pointed out, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips. “I was just feeding the street cats.” 

“I was in there for an hour.” Genesis mentioned, which caused your cheeks to obtain a light shade of pink. “You feed... The street cats?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, a lot of them get dropped off here. It’s really sad, so I make sure I feed them every morning and every evening.” You explained, guiding him back to the dining room. “I decided to go ahead and do it, I figured you’d be longer than an hour.” You added, heading into the kitchen as Genesis took a seat at the table. He found you to be such a curious creature... You were kind to everything, no matter what its background may be. He watched you closely as you worked, his eyes following you as you returned to the table.

You carefully placed an extravagant meal in front of him, a shy smile forming on your lips. It consisted of steak (behemoth meat), along with other healthy sides. He stared in amazement as you placed the final item, a small basket of bread, in front of him. “I usually don’t eat like this... I figured today would be the day I make something nice.” You explained awkwardly, taking a seat across from him. “Feel free to eat as much as you like, or as little. The rest will be used as leftovers for myself or the cats.” 

Once you began to serve yourself food and eat, Genesis finally snapped out of his daze and followed along, serving himself relatively small portions at first. He wanted to taste everything first, before digging into his favorites. Unfortunately for him, though, he found everything to be absolutely delicious, it was the best food he’s had in years, even when he was working at Shinra. He finally gave in and decided to fill his plate with everything, hoping that he could eat it all.

The two of you stayed in silence most of the meal, you didn’t seem to mind that Genesis wasn’t interested in conversation. He was grateful for that, his face was so full the majority of the time that there was no time to speak. Somehow, the two of you managed to finish the meal on your own. Genesis felt like he was on the verge of a food coma by the end of the meal. He was beyond thankful at this point, you had done so much for him with no questions asked, you were quite literally a gift from the goddess. 

When you were cleaning up, Genesis decided to show his thankfulness a little. He helped you carry the dishes into the kitchen, and he offered to clean them as you wiped down the table. To you, it was a sweet stranger, especially from a stranger like him. You could sense him beginning to trust you, which calmed your nerves a little more. The odd factor was the fact that the two of you had hardly spoken at all. Besides a couple small exchanges of words, it was mostly silent between you both. It was a little unnerving, but you couldn’t think of anything to fill the void with, so you simply dealt with it. 

As the night rolled in, the awkward silence that you and Genesis had slowly developed into a comfortable silence. You ended up introducing him to the cats outside, but he appreciated them from afar. You also offered some books he might like to read, he was uninterested in them. Eventually, it was getting too late and you were fairly exhausted. 

“I’m going to sleep soon. You’re free to do whatever you wish... If you stay, that’s okay, but you also don’t have to stay.” You explained, looking back at him from the stairs. 

He raised his brows, a heavy feeling forming on his heart. “...Are you sure? That you don’t mind me staying.” Genesis asked, his tone a bit quieter and sensitive. 

You smiled in response to this. “It’s your decision. I don’t mind having you around.” You answered, giving him a reassuring nod. He hesitated and looked away, a conflicted expression forming on his face. You took this as the end of your conversation and continued up the stairs. 

“Wait!” He called out, taking another step up. “I didn’t really say thank you.” He stated, furrowing his brows. “I... I don’t know how I can make it any more genuine. But seriously, thank you for everything.” Genesis murmured, looking down at the floor. 

A soft laugh left your lips, which caused him to look back up at you in confusion. “Why thank me? I’ve just treated you like a house guest.” You pointed out, snickering. “You’re welcome... I guess? I thought what I did was bare minimum...” You muttered the last part to yourself, before shaking your head and looking back at him. “I’ll do better tomorrow!” You decided, a determined look in your eyes. 

For what felt like the first time in awhile, a smile formed on Genesis’ lips. It wasn’t a smirk, or a deceiving grin, it was a genuine and heartfelt smile. It felt... Weird. He liked it. Maybe he’ll stay for longer then... “I’m looking forward to it, then.” He responded, matching your lighthearted banter. 

The both of you stood still for a moment, as if finding some way to continue, before you finally broke the silence again. “Well... I should get some sleep to prepare for tomorrow. See ya.” You waved down at him, before heading off to your room for the night. 

Genesis couldn’t really describe the feelings he felt at that particular moment, but he knew that staying was a better idea. A fresh start... Maybe it won’t last for so long, but it was a nice break, especially since the position he’s in currently isn’t exactly the best. Or maybe... He didn’t have to explain himself. He was going to stay because he wanted to. 

He felt safe with you, and that’s all that mattered. 

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Eight

A/N Buckle up for our final chapter of Heartbreak Hotel! This chapter is a long one but it didn’t make sense to split it in half so you get it all in one go! This chapter’s song is Loving You by Elvis (of course).

The manager of the diner was not impressed that Jack and Zach just left mid-shift but they put on their best act that it was a family emergency and soon they were piling into Jack’s car, Loretta taking shotgun and Zach stuck in the back. No one spoke at first as Jack pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the freeway.

Loretta was leaning her arm on the door, her first pressed to her mouth like she was in deep thought. And she was; having just ended her relationship with her long-term boyfriend within only a few short minutes and now made the reckless decision to travel up the entire state of California to chase after someone she so obviously hurt. It was something so crazy…she had never been so reckless.  

“Do either of you know how to get there?” Jack finally asked the other two passengers.

Loretta and Zach both looked at him blankly. That was an answer enough.

He sighed, “Of course you don’t.”

Jack pulled off the road into a gas station to fill up and buy a California road map. The boys looked a little ridiculous in their pink bowties and matching work uniforms and earned a few stares from other shoppers in the gas station, so Loretta purchased the map and a few snacks herself before returning to the car. Once the three of them were settled again with the car filled up and snacks cracked open, Jack finally headed onto the highway.

Loretta skimmed the map in har hand, the large paper spread out across her entire lap and half up the dashboard as she traced it with her finger to find their destination. University of California Berkley. She tapped it a few times when she found it on the map, her stomach twisting with anxiety.

“It’s going to be at least five hours.” Jack said, glancing at the clock on the dash. “We should get there around 8:00.”

Loretta just stared at the map blankly.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked her, flicking his eyes between her and the long spanning highway ahead of them.

Loretta took a deep breath and looked between the two friends, “What if he doesn’t want to see me.”

“No way. This is going to be the best surprise of his life.” Zach assured her.

“I just broke up with Corbyn for him.” Loretta breathed like she didn’t even believe it herself. She leaned her elbow back on the door and ran her hand over her face tiredly.

“And we just ditched our shift for you.” Zach added from the backseat. He stuck out a handful of gummies between the two front seats, “Snacks?”

Loretta turned to him and cracked a small smile, “Thanks.”

She took a few from his hand and tossed them into her mouth before settling back into her seat and looked out the window as the city of Los Angeles faded into farmland. Jack turned on the radio and turned up the volume, filling the car with the most recent hits and Zach sang loudly in the backseat between mouthfuls of candy, draped horizontally across the leather seats. Loretta directed Jack using the map, flipping the paper over to focus on San Francisco as they got closer and the sun started to set behind the horizon.

There was no doubt that all three of their families would be worried sick as they picked up and drove off without telling anyone but Loretta could only hope Corbyn was smart and kind enough to tell her parents where she had gone. Jack and Zach would just have to suffer the repercussions by their parents when they returned home well past midnight. They would have to call from a payphone when they got to the city to at least not have their mothers worry enough to call the police.

Zach had fallen asleep in the backseat by the time they reached San Francisco and darkeness had fallen over the state until the only light was from the lamps on the side of the highway and Jack’s headlights. It was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background and Jack really had to force his eyes to stay open, eventually giving in enough to open the glove box and pull out a pair of glasses. He slid them on with a frustrated sigh and Loretta just stared at him for a moment.

“They suit you.” she stated at his obvious embarrassment.

Jack pulled a small smile in her direction in thanks before turning back to the road.

“What are you going to say to him when you see him?” Jack asked.

“I dunno.” Loretta tucked her feet up on the seat with her, draping her skirt over her legs to keep her decent, “Whatever feels right, I suppose.”  

There was a moment of silence, just the radio at low volume and the wind breezing quickly past the car.

“I can’t believe I did that.” Loretta whispered, resting her chin on her arms around her knees as she stared out the window. “I don’t even feel…sad. I dated him for a year and I loved him and I was going to marry him and…I don’t feel sad.”

“Well…he’s not your soulmate.”

“I know. I just thought it would hurt more.”

“Isn’t it good that it doesn’t hurt?”

“Yeah.” Loretta took a deep breath, “I just want to see Daniel.”

Jack glanced at her and then to Zach asleep behind them and then looked back to the road. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas pedal, speeding them up into the outskirts of San Francisco.

~~

“I said left, Jack!”

“That was a one-way street! I couldn’t go left!”

“It was not!”

“Golly, you guys are so loud.” Zach grumbled tiredly, sitting up in the backseat, rubbing his eyes as he awoke. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye back here.”

“It’s 8pm, Zach. Is it already past your bedtime?” Loretta teased.

“Damn…feisty.” Zach mumbled defensively.

She smiled lightly and turned back to the map in her hand, “The campus is left. So just turn left somewhere.”

Jack turned at the next intersection, the steep streets of San Francisco hard to navigate at night to the foreigners but they managed to find the stone framed welcome sign, lit up by two spotlights.

University of California Berkeley

Jack slowly stopped the car on the side of the road for a moment. Loretta sighed deeply, biting at her bottom lip as the three of them stared up at the stone sign. Her heart was hammering in her chest as if she had walked all the way from LA or something.

“How are we supposed to find him on this massive campus?” Zach broke their silence first.

“We’ll park and ask around.” Loretta directed, nudging Jack’s shoulder to urge him to keep driving.

They found the main parking lot and all got out, groaning as they finally stretched their legs after such a long journey. Loretta smoothed down her dress as she looked around the campus at the many nearly identical stone buildings draped with ivy and shadowed through the night by large trees. The streetlamp above their car flickered. Jack locked the car and the three of them headed towards the first building they saw: the student centre.

The lights were on inside but there wasn’t a single person around; the welcome desk having been closed for a few hours and everyone already gone home since it was past 8pm. Loretta sighed in frustration for a moment, walking around the foyer as if looking for someone to ask for directions.

“I’m gonna call home before we get started on this quest.” Zach said, pulling a bit of change from his pocket and approached the payphones on the wall across from the desk.

“Me too.” Jack grabbed a quarter from him and they each picked up a phone, ready to be chewed out by their mothers after driving across the entire state at night and alone.

Loretta just took a shaking inhale as she looked around, skimming the empty and dark bookstore and vacant hallways of the unknown campus, Jack and Zach’s voices being the only sound in nearly the entire campus. She felt nervous, a little crazy, and a little hopeless. That was, until the flavour of banana bread rolled its way across her tongue. She fell to a stop, her arms crossed over her chest in concentration, and licked her lips slowly. It tasted good…and fresh. Loretta walked over to the railing that looked down to the lower level and spotted the café at the bottom of the old staircase, lights on and housing a few students by the interior windows.

~~

Daniel passed over his coins to the cashier and thanked him softly, taking his tea and banana bread in return. It was Friday and Daniel was going stir crazy mad alone in his dorm room so he had made his way across campus to the café and a breath of fresh air. Christian was busy, leaving Daniel all alone yet again.

For the near week Daniel had been away at college, he felt so completely drained and he hadn’t even done much. He only had five classes that term and he barely finished a day before just wanting to crash every time he returned to his dorm. He felt miserable and the daily physical reminder of Loretta certainly didn’t help him feel better.

But it was soon Friday and Daniel had no plans for the weekend except sit alone in his room and mope around until he maybe miraculously felt better. Banana bread was the first step. He took a bite as he set his tea on the condiment station and dumped in a pack of sugar. It wasn’t his mother’s banana bread but it was close enough and he groaned pleasantly through his mouthful, stirring his tea with a popsicle stick in his free hand. He tossed the garbage out and grabbed a lid for his tea, struggling a moment to put it on properly with only one hand.

He was so physically and emotionally exhausted that he just huffed in annoyance and tossed the lid out too. It wasn’t worth his effort. Nothing seemed to be anymore. He lifted his banana bread up to take another bite but he was interrupted by a soft call of his name.

The voice felt like a weight was pressed and lifted from his chest all in the same time and he froze for a moment. His head had to be playing tricks on him.

Daniel slowly looked up across the café to see Loretta in the doorway, the glow of the warm light from inside falling across her face and lighting up her soft freckles and beautiful eyes and Daniel swore his heart stopped for a full five seconds.

The café was silent as he tried to fathom if she was really there – all the way in San Francisco. He set his banana bread on the counter beside his drink and turned slowly towards her, the few other students sitting around the café studying not paying either of them a second glance. Daniel and Loretta both took a hesitant step towards each other.

Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off her like she was a figment of his cruelest imagination, and he breathed her name ever so gently, “Loretta.”

With those three soft syllables she was rushing towards him across the café to throw her arms around his shoulders as he stumbled with the impact of her embrace and her lips found his almost magnetically. Instant electricity tore through his whole body, the warmest most blissful indescribable tingles right down to the tips of his toes and the top of his head. His arms wrapped right around her back, kissing her strongly in return with this desperation he didn’t know he had in him. He didn’t want to stop even if it felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

Loretta’s hands clung onto the back of his collared shirt and one to the back of his neck to keep his lips on hers for as long as she possibly could. Nothing but the warmest fire engulphed them, keeping them pressed chest to chest in the middle of the campus café, lips locked, and deep passionate kisses shared like they had been deprived of each other’s touch for their whole lives.

In a sense, they had.

Daniel pulled back first to breathe, gasping lightly for air as his hands slid over her hips and their eyes met behind pink cheeks. Her fingers massaged lightly through the back of his hair and she leaned up to close the space between them once more, intoxicatingly addicted to the taste of his lips on hers.

“Loretta.” Daniel breathed into her mouth, gently setting a hand on her shoulder to separate them again. “What are you doing here? Why…”

Her hands slid down his chest as his words abandoned him in his shock and her fingers gripped gently to the light blue material of his shirt, “I was so ridiculous to ever think that I could stay away from you. You’re my other half. My other half of my heart and the other half of my soul.”

Daniel’s hands raised to her cheeks and pulled her lips on his again. His whole body felt like it was floating, riding on the pure innocent bliss that came with the universe finally being at peace and they both exhaled deeply out of it, arms wrapping around each other in a tight embrace. Loretta tucked her face in his neck and Daniel could have sworn his stomach filled with butterflies, tightening his arm around her waist and his other pet over her dark hair, not wanting to let go ever again. His eyes looked past her to the entranceway to the café and Jack and Zach stood smiling in the open door in their matching light pink diner uniforms. They sent their best friend a knowing nod to say that no ‘thank you’s needed to be said and Daniel just bit back his cheesy grin and nuzzled into Loretta’s neck.

She smelt like strawberries.

The End

[rebelwrites]

Chapter Fifteen: The Morning After - Grayson (NSFW)

As this is an original fic it is hard to tag, so I’d really appreciate it is you reblogged and shared with your friends and followers 🖤 and if you reblog with comments I will love you forever

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Falling For Red Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Red come back to bed” I grumbled with my eyes still closed as I felt Lola carefully escape from my grip and the warmth of her body disappearing from the bed.

“I need to pee'' she laughed as she padded over to the en-suite.

“Red hurry up” I shouted, getting impatient and missing the feel of her body against mine.

What the hell was this girl doing to me?

“And here’s me thinking you are a stone cold asshole” Lola smirked, raising her eyebrow at me as she leant against the door frame, not bothered that she was completely naked.

“It’s too early” I groaned running my hand over my face “and I’m still an asshole Princess” a sleepy smirk appearing on my face “but if I remember correctly an asshole that made you cum hard last night, now get your perfect ass back in bed and maybe I can make it worth your while”

“Mmmm” Lola smirked as she slowly saunted across the room, crawling up the bed until she was straddling me, my morning wood pressing against her core, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she slowly rolled her hips against me “You better otherwise I’m leaving right now”

In one fast move, I had flipped both of us over so my body weight was now pinning Lola to the bed once again, my lips attacking hers before kissing along her jaw, slowly making my way down her neck until I found that sweet spot and soft moans filled the room.

As I nibbled and sucked on the sensitive spot I knew I would be leaving a mark but I didn’t care, I was addicted to the beauty that was under me and I couldn’t seem to get enough of her, all I wanted to do was taste her, start the day off in the best way possible. I didn’t know what she was doing to me, I was a one night stand type of guy and normally snuck out before the other person woke up and I never had them stay in my bed.

I started kissing down her body, taking her hardened nipple in my mouth, feeling her back arch under my touch made me smirk. Her body responded to my touch, every touch she melted into me.

Grazing my hand down her body, until I reached her pussy, I slowly ran my fingers through her folds before settling on her clit, drawing lazy circles with my thumb, keeping my eyes trained on hers as I watched her screw her face up in pleasure. Her moans were music to my ears as I slowly made my way down her toned body, placing hot kisses as I went.

“Gray” she breathed as I pushed her thighs open, throwing one of her legs over my shoulder.

“Yes Princess?” I smirked looking up at her.

“I need you” she moaned.

“Tell me where and how Princess” I grinned, kissing the inside of her thighs, nipping slightly, making her breath hitch.

“I need your mouth on me”

“As you wish” I winked, moving my finger off her clit, replacing it with my tongue.

I didn’t know what she was doing to me, we had only known each other a week but she got me feeling things I never thought I’d feel. She was fast becoming my weakness.

Her moans filled the room as I pushed a finger inside her, curling as I went, finding the spot pretty quickly, she was quickly coming apart under my touch and I was loving it. The way she screwed her eyes closed, the way her back arched trying to get closer to me, everything about her was mesmerising. And I was becoming addicted to her, something I never thought was possible.

“Oh god Gray” she moaned as I picked my pace up, her moans got louder as I took her to the point of climaxing.

“You taste so fucking good” I growled against her heat. “So fucking sweet”

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I crawled up the bed, lying next to her, pulling her into my arms. Just holding her, running my fingers down her back as she came down from her high.

“What about you?” She mumbled as she absentmindedly ran her fingers across my tattooed chest, tracing the inked lines causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps and feel like it was on fire.

“What about me Princess?” I asked, playing with the ends of her hair.

“I feel you need something in return” she laughed softly as she ran her hands across my abs.

“Trust me Red that was for me as well, this morning was just about you. And plus that was breakfast” I smirked as her laughter filled the room.

“Oh god” she laughed, lightly swatting my chest.

“Just saying it how it is baby” I laughed placing a tender kiss on the top of her head.

“You are such an asshole” she giggled looking up at me, her green eyes shining bright.

“So you keep telling me” I winked. “But again this asshole has given you multiple earth shattering orgasms so you know I can’t be too bad”

What was this girl doing to me? I never let anyone stay the night, let alone in my bed. But then again Red wasn't a normal girl. There was something about her, the moment she walked into my office I knew she was different and the chemistry that was between us was like nothing else.

Running my hand over my face, I could help but smile as she rolled out of bed after finally coming down from another high, my eyes ran over every curve of her body, every single tattoo and every scar. As she pulled one of my black shirts over her body my smile grew, she fully rocked my clothes, due to her being so much shorter than me the shirt was like a dress on her, stopping mid thigh.

“You just gonna stay in bed?” She smirked.

“Well I mean we could” I smiled propping myself up on my elbow “or I could make you breakfast if you don’t need to leave straight away”

“Depends what you are planning on making” she smiled. “Because if you make pancakes I am completely down for breakfast”

“I make the best pancakes” I winked, rolling out of bed, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and my grey sweatpants.

“I will be the judge of that Mr” she smirked “I’ve not met anyone that makes pancakes better than Nix”

“Well sweetheart you have never tasted my pancakes” I smirked wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me.

“Like I said I will be the judge of that” she whispered resting her hand on my chest. “Now chop chop I’m hungry”

“So fucking demanding” I chuckled guiding her down to the kitchen.

As we walked into the kitchen I saw Harper smirking as she fed Lucy. I knew what she was thinking, I never let anyone stay the night, let alone meet the family the morning after. Once again as soon as Lucy saw me her little arms were up in the arm wanting me.

“Morning little Princess” I smiled leaning down kissing the top of her head.

“Uncle Gray” she giggled kissing my cheek.

“Sleep well?” Harper smirked and I’m sure I saw a small red flush creep into Lola’s face.

“Stop being a nosy cow” I glared at Harper. I didn’t want her to make Lola feel uncomfortable especially now we were biting each other’s heads off.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lola’s phone lighting up constantly as I placed a mug of black coffee in front of her.

“You are popular this morning Red” I laughed opening the fridge.

“Sometimes I swear them boys are far too protective” she sighed as her fingers darted across the screen “I love them to bits but they can get a bit too much”

“Oh I know the feeling” Harper laughed as she stared at me “he is just the same, luckily for me he has mellowed out a bit”

“Do you want pancakes little sister or not?” I glared making her huff as she went back to feeding Lucy “yeah that’s what I thought”

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @little-diable @band--psycho @mrsmarvelous1995 @pancakeisreading

[letsperaltiago]

i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.  

[vesperstalksclones]

Wrecker x Mando Femme OC

The Naked Truth

(18 +) explicit

So this is a gratuitous smut snippet of a Wrecker centered Bad Batch story, post Order 66. But of course, I'm writing the juicy parts first lol. I wanted to post because who knows if I'll finish it, and tumblr needs some Wrecker smut! So, following is unprotected sex, a difficult first coupling, ample fondling, and one surprisingly gentle guy, which is still pretty rough since he's built like a draft horse.... and hung like one... 😳

Quick synopsis:

(OH please pardon my lazy editing, I forgot to go spell check my Mando'a, so I kriffed up a few things 🤨)

The crew have been hiring themselves out to make $$ to fuel the Maurauder, buy supplies, etc. They take a job as armed support for a Mandalorian cell on a rather obscure outer rim planet, who have been clashing with the local crime syndicate. He meets Kessa-Lan, a stoic female warrior with a knack for explosives and an excellent rifleman. Of course our big goofy boy is smitten instantly, but her voice! Its all husky and full of pepper (think like Demi Moore) and he is going to die from loving it. But.. she refuses to take her helmet or armor off in his presence, but not because of strict code; Kessa was injured badly several years ago when her village was attacked by several of the crime family's enforcers. The burns resulted in the loss of her right arm, and her neck, shoulder, and face on the right side are terribly scarred. She has no ear on that side, and half her face is covered by cybernetic skin, with a replacement eye as well. She grows her hair in to thick braids, woven with beads and mementos, so that the locks can hide some of the disfigurement. She is ashamed and afraid that he wouldn't be so enamored if he saw her properly. So some stuff happens… pew pew, boom, pew, etc,etc. Wrecker ends up captured by the crime syndicate's local cell, with a few of Kessa's Vode, and he recognizes their sigil as the group who destroyed Kessa's village and harmed her so terribly. He manages to trick them into bringing him to a meeting hall alone, so they don't use the others as human shields to keep him in check. He taunts the leader in to a one on one fight (they think he's heavily sedated) and when they've uncuffed him, he visits some terrible hell on the three odd dozen elites, but suffers serious injuries in the process. The Bad Batch finds him and rushes off planet to an old friend with a bacta tank and the medical skills to save him. Upon returning, the Batch proceeds to obliterate the criminals and Wrecker seeks out his love interest, hoping she is at least a little bit happy to see him.

 

       OOOOO Here's the good stuff OOOOO

Wrecker Circled her silently, looking her up and down with a quiet intensity. A few times he stilled, and she felt the calloused pads of his fingers ghost over a scar or a patch of freckles. Stopping behind her, his hands came to rest on her shoulders, thumbs caressing for a moment before they slid to her wrists and gently lifted her arms to the air. She felt him shift, no doubt examining them as he had done the rest of her, running his fingers along the lengths, assessing the differences between the one, flesh and bone, and the other, cold cybernetics. 

"Beautiful." He whispered so low she could barely make out the word.

"Hmmm?" 

"Beautiful, Mesh'la." He reached for her wrists again, raising her arms higher and positioning them around his neck, "You're a dream come to life." 

She leaned against him as his lips brushed her undamaged shoulder, nibbling a gentle path towards her neck. 

Retracing the path along her arms, he splayed his fingers wide and his great hands smoothed along her sides and over her hips, climbing up over her abdomen and ribs in slow circuits. When his lips reached her cheek, she turned her face, catching them with her own, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her torso, pulling her as flush against him as he could manage. He sighed into her mouth, kissing and licking at her softly. 

For a moment Kessa was able to appreciate that no matter how brutally strong this behemoth may be, he had an inherently gentle heart. She had half expected to be flung down and ravaged by Wrecker the moment she bared her skin to him, as eagerly as he had flirted with her and as hungry as his eyes always were. She certainly hadn't expected this sensual caressing as he savored her in his arms. Despite the tautness of every muscle she could feel against her back, and the slight tremor in his hands, he held himself quiet and steady.

He broke away from her, turning his gaze back down her body, thoroughly enjoying the view. He slumped backwards, leaning against the crude table, hands full of her breasts as he arched her against him, and she hissed as he toyed with the dark peaks of her nipples. He experimented for a few moments, weighing her in his hands, varying the force of his grasp, rolling and pinching at the buds until he found just the right movement to make her whimper.

"That's right Sugar, sing for me so I know what you like…." he growled low in her ear, his voice growing impossibly deeper. One of his massive paws had crept to the juncture of her thighs, and he traced the crease thoughtfully. "Spread your legs, Dala. I want to touch you". 

She obliged, wiggling her hips as she did so, feeling his hard member ride up against the small of her back. Wrecker hummed in appreciation, as his fingers crept into her warmth and, finding her slick and eager for him, dove right in. Seeking out the bundle of nerves at the front, he stroked with two fingers, trapping the delicate flesh and sending marvelous tingling sensations through her belly. 

"Remember… my tongue was here before…" he whispered, ".. but you hid the rest of you then, all tucked away in that armor and that helmet… killed me to have to listen to you through a moderator." The two fingers flexed and curled, and then plunged inside her, and she clamped around them with a ragged moan, her jaw dropping open from the sudden intrusion. " Kriffing hell! That's nice!" he gasped into her neck.

He thrust into her eagerly, dragging his thumb across her clit each time, spurred along by Kessa's mewls and cries. 

"Fuck! That voice ad'ika! Just listening t'ya could finish me!" He scraped his teeth along her jaw, and she could feel him trembling against her, his breath warm and moist at her ear. "So many times, all I could think was what you'll sound like when you take my cock."

She squirmed, rocking her hips and riding his hand. "Ah.. Wrecker! I want you inside me cy'aire, please!"

"Not yet, doll. Ladies first, then we'll see what happens." He couldn't ignore the burst of sensation brought on by her plea, begging for him to stuff himself between her thighs, and he couldn't help but to roll his hips against her, finding small satisfaction in rutting against her lower back.

"So tight, love. I'm giving you another…" he ground out hoarsely, before adding a third thick finger to her besh, groaning in satisfaction as she arched against him with a sob. "I'm so 'fraid I'll hurt you." 

He felt her relax after a few thrusts, her slick running down the back of his hand. Her sounds were growing more frantic, and she was moving against him with purpose… "Are you there Sugar? Give it to me doll, come for me…let it go..." he pleaded gently.

She pulled his hand roughly to her breast, and he massaged and plucked at her roughly, causing Kessa to yelp and tighten around his knuckles. He stroked her only a few more times before she stiffened and shuddered, giving a broken cry. Wrecker watched in awe as the climax washed over her features, feeling her body contract around his fingers, her nails scraping at his shoulders. He could have wept at the sight, her lashes fanned over her dark cheek… the slight chatter of her teeth as her head lolled against his shoulder.. She drew out such profound feelings in him, his beautiful, pepper voiced, warrior goddess… that is if he wasn't so insanely desperate to pound her 'til her bones rattled.

Chest heaving, Kessa made to move away and he withdrew carefully. She turned and plastered herself against his chest, beaming up at him, one soul-less cybernetic eye blazing red, the other an explosion of green and gold and brown, a swirl of starlit colors as stunning as the glowing gas nebulae he had seen in his travels. 

 "Now!" She gasped, breathless still, "I want you on top of me!"

"Hmmmm.. mesh'la I don't dare."

Her eyes widened in confusion.

"Kess'ika, there isn't a soft surface anywhere in here; I'd beat you to hell darlin. I know my strength and I know how stupid I'm gonna get." 

He rose from where he leaned against the rough work table, considering it carefully.

"But this'll do, I'll break this instead!" He shoved it back hard against the wall with a soft chuckle and turned to reach for her. She came to him eagerly, and he scooped her up, grinding her against  him a few times with a satisfied groan, and he deposited her on the surface. 

"You're ready for me?" He asked, drawing himself close between her legs.

"Um-hmm. Wrecker, take this off." She demanded gently, tugging at the skin tight black shirt he wore. He obligingly peeled it upwards and felt her hands on his skin before it cleared his shoulders. Flinging the garment away he admired the look on Kessa's face as she explored his chest and abdomen. 

"These look terrible." She whispered, her fingers ghosting over the newly healed blaster wounds. 

He gently butted his head against hers. "They're worth it if it means you sleep better at night." He grinned as he kissed her; she framed his face with her hands, deepening the kiss, and when he opened for her, Kessa's tongue brushed over his, making him see stars. 

He jerked his trousers down his thighs and pressed her backwards upon the bench. Wrecker grasped her knees, spreading her wide before him and rolled himself against her, gliding his rigid cock through her wetness for good measure. She pushed up on her elbows, watching him thoroughly wet himself, before fisting his member and aligning himself with her opening.

Seven hells, he was big, well proportionally correct anyway for a man the size of a mountain, and she realized his purpose in using his fingers first... it would have been difficult without some preparation. He pushed against her, gritting his teeth with strain. Her jaw fell slack as he stretched her, his rounded head easing its way in. 

"Is this alright cy'aire?" He hissed. "Hurts?"

He paused, shaking against her as he struggled with his overtaxed libido. 

"Yes, love, I'm alright," she held his gaze, wanting him to see clearly that she wasn't lying for his benefit. She groped for his hands where they held her hips tightly, clinging to them for stability. He continued to push in to her, pausing to withdraw and return to claim another inch of her space. Her muscles burned as she took him, but it wasn't unbearable and each gentle motion felt better than the last. 

"Give me all of you, Wrecker. I'm ready," She gasped. 

He watched her for a moment, sweat beading on his forehead from the tension, and then flexed his ass and plunged forward, landing flush against her thighs and she wailed under him.

"Fuck! Kessa, I'm sorry! I'll stop…" 

"No! Wrecker don't you dare!" She dug her nails into his wrists. "Just hold still a moment." She drew a deep breath willing her protesting muscles to relax, as he gently kneaded her hips.

"Kessa, we don't have to do this, love..."

"I'm ok cy'aire. It's just.. it's been a long, long time, and you're… well… you!" She gave a tug at both arms. 

"Again, just start slowly, I was made for this, you know."

"To be mated by a bantha??"

She burst out laughing, and his eyes rolled back in his head from the contractions it caused around his cock. 

"Jengo's bones woman! Kriffing HELL that feels amazing!"

"You said before you liked my voice enough to get off on it," She quipped, a coy look settling on her face.

"No doubt."

He stooped and kissed her hungrily, before bracing his palms on the table and tentatively moved his hips against her. Gradually he withdrew and then returned, filling her to bursting. She felt him drag against the most deliciously sensitive places, and each one sent hot electricity up her spine. Catching his honey brown eyes, she nodded and he quickened his movements, breathing raggedly from the sensations. 

"Kessa… " he uttered her name again and again, like a prayer. " Oh… Kessa... Gods… you feel so good, woman.. I can't…  I can't believe .. you let me … touch you like this!" Wrecker gasped, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. "Wanted you for so damn long. Want you for myself… keep you…  My woman.."

"You'd better ruin every other cock for me then" she replied, the words turning in to breathy moans. 

With a sound somewhere between a groan and a snarl, he roughly gathered her up in his arms, his kiss pressing her into the table, his thighs slamming forward harshly against the wooden edges - and they were vaguely aware of the sound of something breaking. She mewled into his mouth, clawing at his back and neck, desperate to pull him closer than he already was. 

"Are you going to come on my cock, love?" He growled. She couldn't do much more than whimper. "Come on mesh'la, scream for me. Wanna feel you!" He reared up, cradling her hips in an iron grip as he rammed into her, feral noises curling from deep within his chest. Kessa dug her nails against the table, watching his member disappear within her again and again, shining with her slick. She knew that she only ever wanted him. No other man should ever have her this way. 

"Wrecker… I love you cy'aire, only you.. I'm yours however you want me.." she cried as her tension built, her release looming. "Come inside me cy'aire, I want you to…" something shattered within her and her climax washed over her. The world turned upside-down and the stars exploded in her eyes, and she screamed, just like he'd asked..

Seeing Kessa coming undone beneath him, her hot tight muscles contracting around him proved his undoing. A hard thrust, and another, and the third had him surging into her, her cries ringing in his ears; a more beautiful sound he had never heard, and his own climax claimed him, drawing blackness across his eyes. 

He didn't quite faint; he was still sailing on the ripples of the best orgasm he had ever had, and his vision slowly came to focus. Kessa was watching him with a look of immense satisfaction, like a proud loth-cat who had just eaten the proverbial song bird.. He was trembling still, with the occasional harsh shudder as she continued still to tighten and relax against his softening cock. 

He reached for her chin. "Kessa, did I hurt you sweetheart?"

"Yes." She groaned. "It was amazing. Do it again."

He wasn't quite sure what to make of that, when she grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a wet kiss.

 "I meant what I said. Wrec."

He grinned crookedly and kissed her back. "We need to find a proper bed darlin'. 

Pretty sure this pic is by Mollo101; whose Star Wars art is AMAZING!! Sorry so dark and melancholy, but there is a lack of Wrecker fanart out there!

[wlsonsaraharchive]

❛  HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!  ❜

WHEN: May 9th WHERE: Delacroix, Louisiana CHARACTER(S) MENTIONED: Bucky, Sam, Aaliyah, AJ, and Cass TRIGGER WARNINGS: None, aside from general Mother’s Day things for those who have asked for those sorts of things to be tagged.

❛Aye, keep it down. Y'all are gonna' wake her up with all that ruckus.❜ Sam's voice pipes up in the kitchen, where there is a lot going on. He's put the old record player to use, the sounds of "Trouble Man" by Marvin Gaye drifts through the house as everyone is enjoying the early hours of the morning. The kids are still tired, but they wanted to wake up early enough to put together breakfast for Sarah. She deserved to have a day off every once in awhile, so why not now of all days? With Sam and Bucky helping Captain the metaphorical ship, everyone had a hand in helping out. Though, some of them kept stealing bits of food here and there. Who could blame them? ❛I come up hard, baby, I had to fight. Took care of my business with all my might. I come up hard, I had to win. Then start all over and win again. I come up hard, but that's okay. 'Cause trouble man don't get in my way.❜ Aaliyah and Sam sing along to the music as the chorus rolls around, both of them dancing around and even bumping hips with one another. Laughter spilling from the pair a moment later as they set back to work once more. Aaliyah has been given the task of making pancakes, putting their artistic skills to good use. Pancakes created in different shapes and patterns, even some in shapes of different Avengers. They're proud of their handiwork, flipping the final pancake onto the stack that piles up on a plate on the counter. Meanwhile, Bucky is situated at the kitchen table. He's glaring daggers at the macaroni art in front of him. It was supposed to be a macaroni necklace, one that was supposed to match the macaroni bracelet that AJ had made for Sarah. But, it really just looked like a cluster of macaroni glued together haphazardly. ❛That's not how you're supposed to do it.❜ AJ's voice pipes up behind him, causing Bucky to turn towards the young child with a frown. ❛Yeah, I know, kiddo. I just don't know where I went wrong.❜ AJ settles down at the table beside Bucky, having finished up his duties of helping grab clean dishes from the cabinet. He wasn't allowed to do much in terms of cooking, so they gave him the easiest task possible. With a gentle sigh, Bucky turns towards AJ. ❛Do you think I can fix this?❜ AJ frowns slightly, picking up the still drying bundle of glue and macaroni. He shakes his head, tossing the mess into the trashcan not too far from him. Taking a seat back into the chair, he glances at Bucky. ❛Don't worry, we can just start over. We have a lotta' time before she wakes up... I think.❜ AJ wastes little time in helping Bucky out with the necklace. Soon, they're focused on their own conversation, one where AJ is carefully instructing Bucky on the proper way to glue the pieces together onto the thick strands of yarn they had used to make the necklace. In the end, they had come out with a colorful macaroni necklace. ❛Hey, look! This one turned out a lot better. Next time, you just ask the pro.❜ AJ nudges Bucky with his elbow, to which Bucky responds by tugging him into his arm to nuzzle his flesh fist against his head in a noogie. Breakfast had been taken care of, though the mess left behind would have to be cleaned up later. Meanwhile, Sarah had finally awaken from her slumber. One hand reached over to check the time on her digital alarm clock. ❛Eleven o'clock? I know I told 'em to let me sleep in today. But, boy... This is out of my comfort zone.❜ She stretches carefully, gentle yawn falling from her lips as toes stretch and parts of her body crack to release the tension. A gentle hum of appreciation falling from her lips as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. She's awake and ready to start the day, even if she wasn't doing too much working today. That was the whole point of the day, to take time off and really relax, while everyone else handled things. That was a task easier said than done when it came to Sarah. ❛She's awake. How much longer do we need?❜ Bucky pipes up from his spot downstairs, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. Perks of being a Super Soldier meant that a lot of his senses were farther enhanced than that of a normal human. ❛Just getting everything plated up and put on a tray. Go distract her or somethin'.❜ Sam grumbles gently, much to Bucky's amusement as he shuffles up the stairs to check on Sarah. He carefully picks at dried glue from his fingers and hands, leaving no trace of evidence, before he knocks carefully. Only after Sarah responds, does he carefully and slowly enter the room. ❛Good morning, sleepyhead. How'd you sleep?❜ His words are soft and gentle, as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. ❛Mm, good morning. I slept pretty well, never slept in this late before. Though, I gotta' admit, it was well worth it.❜ She grins cheekily, glancing up at him through sleepy eyes. Even now, in her sleepy and half-awake stupor, Bucky thinks she's the prettiest thing ever. He leans down to steal a gentle kiss from her, one that she meets him halfway for. A gentle hum falling into the kiss on her end, laughter following in its wake. ❛You sure do know how to wake a girl up.❜ She plants another kiss onto his lips, just as someone knocks soundly on the door. Bucky rolls his eyes, easily identifying that the knock belonged to none other than Sam. A moment later, the door is shoved open as the rest of the household spills into the room. ❛Surprise! Happy Mother's Day!❜ The four of them wear matching toothy grins as Aaliyah walks in with the tray full of food. Sarah sits up against the pillows, which are carefully fluffed by AJ and Cass, who go all out to ensure their mother is comfortable. Aaliyah and Sarah share a tight hug, before Sam follows behind with a hug of his own. Leaving a sloppy cheek smooch for his sister in the end. Much to Sarah's chagrin as face scrunches up in distaste. ❛Ugh, you know I hate when you do that!❜ She calls out, wiping at her cheek before surveying the food before her. ❛Would you look at that? Looks like you guys went all out on breakfast, huh?❜ She shoots a glance towards everyone in the room before AJ hops up and down. ❛Oh, oh! I wasn't allowed to cook anything because I'm still too little. But, I helped put everything on the plate!❜ AJ's excitement is palpable, something that causes Sarah's smile to turn into a full blown grin. ❛Oh, honey. Thank you so much. Mama loves it, it's perfect.❜ She plants a smooch atop his head, tugging Cass into the hug as well. Kisses for both of her favorite boys before she allows them to run off to go back to bed or to simply enjoy their breakfast together. With the youngest two of the bunch out of sight, it's Sarah's turn to appreciate her newest child. The oldest of the trio of children. Though, Aaliyah was no mere child. In fact, Aaliyah was an adult. But, that didn't make them any less Sarah's child. ❛Thank you for all of this, Li-Li'. Really, it's delicious.❜ Sarah's taking a long sip from her apple juice, only after a mouthful of a pancake in the shape of Sam's shield. Aaliyah leans over, presses a kiss to the crown of Sarah's head with all the warmth and tenderness. It fills Sarah with pure pride and joy that Aaliyah had warmed up to the family. The two share a brief moment together, before Aaliyah is chasing after the two youngest boys who make a beeline downstairs. Sam and Bucky both left chuckling as Sarah glances towards her brother. ❛Have I mentioned that you're the best big brother ever? Seriously, words alone could never say how thankful I am for you. Thank you, Sammy. For everything.❜ Sam rolls his eyes, shoving her lightly as she bites into a piece of bacon. ❛Don't go gettin' all sappy on me, lady. You deserve this. Enjoy it while you can.❜ He squeezes her softly, before leaving her alone with Bucky as he heads downstairs as well. ❛Happy Mother's Day, Sarah.❜ Bucky leans over, a lingering kiss stolen on his end this time. One that Sarah leans into happily. She adores him so much, they both decided to take a leap into their relationship. Both decided to adopt Aaliyah together just a few short months ago. Sam may have found him to be annoying at times, but Sam truly did care for Bucky. He was cautious of their relationship at first, Sarah had already been put into harms way because of Sam once before. Now, add in that of the man who was once known as The Winter Soldier. It was just asking for trouble that much more. But, Sam knew Bucky would keep his family safe when he couldn't. ❛Thanks, B'. I appreciate it. Truly. You hungry? I've got enough food here to feed a village.❜ Laughter spills from her lips as he settles into bed beside her. The pair sharing what remained on the tray together in comfortable silence. After much needed naps for everyone who had been on early morning duty, it was finally time to unveil the presents each of them had gotten or made for Sarah. Each bag and gift opened carefully and full of love and warmth. The first gift had been from Sam, two roundtrip tickets to Hawaii, with all expenses paid and a resort room ready to book whenever she was ready. A gift he decided to give her because she deserved a proper vacation, where Sam would stay behind to take care of the rest of the family. The second present had been from Aaliyah, a gift certificate to the local spa in New Orleans. Something that Sarah would be putting to good use soon enough. Finally, what appeared to be the final gift was from Cass. A picture frame with the word family burned into the wood in multiple languages. Inside the picture frame was a photo of all of them, Sam and Aaliyah, AJ and Cass, Bucky and Sarah. They say the best kind of family are the unexpected ones. The dysfunctional ones. The ones so full of tender love and care that it almost hurts to breathe. This was Sarah's family through and through. She loved each and every single one of them with every single inch of her. Perhaps even more, if that were even possible. ❛Wait, wait, wait!❜ AJ came huffing and puffing from running up and down the stairs a few times already. Inside his hands was a box as he took a moment to catch his breath. He took a puff or two from his inhaler, waving a hand slightly. ❛This one-- This one is the last one!❜ He walked over, carefully handing the box over to Sarah who carefully unwrapped and opened it. ❛This one is from me and Bucky! Do you like it?❜ AJ glances at Sarah with a slight look of concern on his face. Sarah taking her time to appreciate the gift thoughtfully. ❛Do I like it?❜ She pauses just briefly, carefully pulling on the macaroni bracelet and necklace. She smiles fondly, glancing towards Bucky and AJ who stand a few feet away. ❛I love it! Thank you so much. These are all the best gifts a lady could ever ask for.❜ She pulls all of them in for the biggest and tightest group hug she could possibly manage. Pouring out every ounce of love and affection and warmth she could spill into each and every single one of them. There was never enough love to spill for her family. Never enough words to tell them how much they truly meant to her. But, she cherished them all with every fiber of her being and she truly hoped that they knew that.

[pixiegrl]

You Are My Horizon

Jack comes to visit Rian at work. Rian's hopelessly in love.

Alright lets take it from the top:

Bet you never saw ATL fic coming from me? Well, here it is. Once again, this is part of a larger fic I'm writing. I'm blaming Rian's v-day thirst trap and Jack just being, you know, Jack for writing this. The only important thing to know going into this is that Rian and Jack are dating, Jack is trans, and that Rian works at a tattoo parlor owned by Ashton and Calum. The tattoo parlor is across from the flower show Luke (also trans) and Michael (non-binary) own.

Second: big thanks to @tigerteeff for whom I write all trans content. Thanks for listening to me yell about Trans Jack he is a special boy and I love him. Thanks to @lifewasradical @cakelftv @blackbutterfliescal and @staticsounds for listening to me yell about this fic (and the flower shop/tattoo parlor verse) and telling me how emo in a good way this is. I love you all dearly.

on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500365

Rian’s sketching out the tattoo he’s designing when Jack comes into the back area of the parlor. He sighs dramatically, dropping himself into Rian’s lap and straddling him.

“Babe,” Jack whines.

“Hello to you too. Who’s watching Cam?”

“The puppy can be left alone for like an hour. I’ve been home all day. I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning.”

“That was hours ago. It’s like almost 5:00pm. I missed you,” Jack says, dropping his head down, resting it under Rian’s chin. Rian sighs, putting his pencil down and running his hands under Jack’s shirt. Jack sighs, pressing a kiss to Rian’s neck, easing into the touch. Rian likes Jack, all long legs and lean muscle, the contrast he is to Rian himself. He’s dyed his hair recently, a soft shade of blonde that contrasts with the dark hair of his beard. Rian remembers how excited Jack was about the beard when he started growing it, crowing that getting the hysterectomy finally helped him grow the hair that being on T didn’t. Jack’s painfully handsome these days, angled cheekbones and jaw framed by his beard, comfortable in his own skin. Jack has a soft smile on his face, as he pulls back, kissing Rian on the lips softly. 

They trade soft kisses for a few moments before Jack pulls back, grinning mischievously.

“No,” Rian says.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“You may not suck my dick at my place of work.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sanitizing the whole workstation.”

Jack sighs dramatically, flopping onto Rian, “But you have to do that anyway.”

“And I’m not letting you get this place dirty. Or risking someone walking in on us Jack, these are my co-workers.”

“Spoil sport,” Jack says. Rian huffs a laugh, letting Jack steal his snapback and put it on. He snuggles into Rian’s side, watching him sketch out the flowers.

“What’s this one?”

“Tattoo for a client. She wants a whole bouquet for flowers for her family.”

“Isn’t that Sierra’s thing? The flowers?”

“She wants it in watercolor.”

“So your speciality.”

“My speciality,” Rian says. Jack hums, getting a hand underneath Rian’s shirt, tracing his abs lightly as he keeps watching Rian. He has to be uncomfortable, at the angle he’s at but Jack makes no move to change his position.

“Why don’t you head home? I have to finish this sketch up and it’s not going to be very interesting for you,” Rian says, after Jack shifts for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“I don’t want to head home though. Wanna go with you.”

“You drove your car here Jack. You’d be going home without me anyway.”

“I don’t want to go home and wait around for you though. I want to wait here, with you. I want to spend time with you,” Jack says, pouting lightly. Rian sighs, heart soft. He ducks his head down pressing a kiss to Jack’s temple. Jack laughs, scrunching his nose up. He rests his head on Rian’s shoulder, watching as Rian works on the sketch around Jack’s long limbs.

“You know, I didn’t see myself being 32,” Jack says, just barely above a whisper. Rian stops what he’s doing, turning his attention to the boyfriend in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. At 15 I didn’t see myself making it to 20. I was a depressed teen, self-harming because I hated the way I looked and that I couldn’t understand what was going on. I thought I’d kill myself before 20 trying to figure it out. Then, I was 20 and I couldn’t see myself at 25. I finally had the words to understand what I was feeling and who I was, but then you’re going through therapists and doctors, people are giving you papers and reports and explanations and telling you how much money it all is to just be yourself. I thought I’d die under the stress of it all, the constant feeling of just having to fight to be myself,” Jack says, shrugging. 

He picks at the edge of Rian’s shirt, pulling at a loose thread there, head resting on Rian’s shoulder, nose touching his neck. Rian puts his pencil down, stroking his hand over Jack’s back, letting Jack nuzzle into him. They sit there for a few moments in silence before Rian finally works up the courage to ask Jack his question.

“What about at 25?” Rian asks, soft, squeezing Jack’s hip lightly.

“I got the right therapist. I went on T. They finally approved things and I had the money for my top surgery. There was light at the end of the tunnel. And then I met you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I love who I am, don’t get me wrong. I love being trans and I love being myself and I’m happy with myself. It took me so long to get there, but I love myself. But it’s hard, when you’re two months out of top surgery, when your voice still cracks, when you’re worried about how everyone else will see you, to picture someone loving you the way you love yourself. Especially when they look like you,” Jack says. He tilts his head up, looking at Rian, eyes a little wet. Rian laughs, breathless, at the idea of it all. 

He remembers meeting Jack with the sort of clarity that only comes with the certainty of knowing that this is your person, with the knowledge to capture this moment, so you can tell your family, your friends, write it into your wedding vows, tell it to your children. Alex had invited him to the back to school brunch he hosted with Lisa every year before school started. Rian had grumbled about it, considering he’s not a teacher what does it matter, but Alex has insisted that as his oldest friend Rian should come (he found out later Alex had intentionally done it to try and set him and Jack up, but Rian can’t really be mad about it). He’d found Jack, with his grown out emo fringe and home dyed red hair, standing by the music, trying to hijack it to play Blink-182 and complaining that Alex never let him have his way. Rian had found himself hopelessly enamored, listening to Jack rant about music and the merits of not teaching Romeo and Juliet to bored teens when Shakespeare has better plays. Rian had been so caught up in what Jack was saying, he hadn’t even noticed brunch had ended until Alex kicked them both out. Brunch had led to late lunch, led to dinner, led to Rian taking Jack for ice cream just so he didn’t have to leave, giving Jack his number and waiting for a phone call. Rian doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he wasn’t enamored by Jack, hopelessly in love with him from the moment Jack had demanded to see Rian’s Blink-182 tattoo. 

“What do you mean someone who ‘look like me’?”

“Handsome, masculine, rugged. You’re a tattoo artist and you work out and you’re like the kind of guy I wanted to be when I was a teen except I’m not. I’m me and there’s nothing wrong with me, but like compared to you. I’m the dorky English teacher. I’m all tall and lanky and stuff.”

“I love dorky English teacher Jack.”

“I know you do. You look at me with such love and adoration it hurts sometimes. The first time you told me you loved me I went home and cried,” Jack says. He’s sitting up now, arms draped over Rian’s shoulders, tears in his eyes. Rian, reaches up, brushing them away. 

“You did what?” Rian asks, quiet.

“I cried. I cried because you were everything teenage Jack dreamed of and couldn’t have. You loved me and loved me and you didn’t care that my voice cracked or about the scars or about anything else that made me feel self-conscious at the time because it was new and fresh. The first time you called me your boyfriend I didn’t know what to do. I felt so special and loved. You just loved me and it felt so real. And I was 25 and for the first time, I could picture myself at 30, at 40, at 50 because I could picture my life, I could picture sharing my life with you. And now I’m 32 and I want to tell teenage Jack that it’s worth it, all the waiting is worth it because you’re here. You’re here and I love you so much Ri,” Jack says. He’s crying now, eyes red, nose red. Rian pulls him into a hug, realizes he’s crying too.

“Well, I love you. You’re a hurricane and I never expected to fall in love the way I did with you, but god did I. I was so worried that first day if I let you go home, if I let you leave, you’d forget all about me. Except you kept calling me and texting me and then you practically moved into my house and I didn’t want to let you go. We have a home, a life, a dog. It’s everything I pictured when I was 17 and realized I liked guys too.” 

“Guess we’re just stuck together,” Jack says, sniffling. Rian laughs, a little wet, pulling Jack into a hug. 

“Guess we are.” 

“Think Ash will let you leave early? I wanna go home now and I don’t wanna wait for you.” 

“Yeah. I don’t have any more appointments and I can take the sketches home.” 

“Good. I think we deserve some pizza and white claws,” Jack says, solemnly. He’s smiling though and Rian’s hopelessly in love with him.

It isn’t till the drive home, which Rian barely managed to get to because Jack kept kissing him against his car, refusing to just let Rian get in the car and drive home so they could have dinner and cuddle, that Rian wonders what’s stopping him from making this permanent. They live together, they have a dog, Jack’s all but told Rian he sees them as forever and Rian feels the same way. What’s stopping Rian from just proposing? 

He takes the thought with him for the next week, searching for rings on his off time, trying to get other people’s opinions on what Jack might like until Rian finally decides on a simple black band for the ring. He ends up in the flower shop the next week, deciding that Jack deserves nice flowers for a proposal.

Luke is at the counter, fixing up a floral arrangement when Rian comes in. He looks up, surprised, blushing a little. Rian’s not dumb, he knows Luke has a crush on him. He also knows Luke has a crush on Jack and a major crush on Ashton, so he’s pretty sure Luke is just falling for anyone he thinks is cute until Ashton finally kisses him.

“Rian, hi! What brings you in? More flowers for the shop?”

“Flowers for Jack. I want to propose and I thought the sweetest man deserved some flowers to go with it.”

Luke looks at Rian in awe, lips parted in an “o.” 

“You’re going to propose?” Luke whispers. Rian furrows his brow, confused at Luke’s surprise, until he remembers that Luke’s trans too. Luke’s trans and he’s probably having the same reaction Jack did the first time he and Rian went to pride and Jack saw other people like them together, the idea that they weren’t alone. It softens Rian’s heart even more. He gets the older brother affection Jack has for Luke and Michael, the need to care for them. It’s hard not to when Luke’s staring at him, all wide blue eyes and open wonder.

“Yeah. Figured my boyfriend of seven years deserves to be my husband forever. Have some roses for it?” Rian says. Luke beams, hurrying around the counter, pulling out red roses to make a bouquet, bouncing with excitement. It’s infectious, making Rian even more excited to propose to Jack, seeing how excited Luke is, smiling the whole time. Ashton let him out of work early too, so he could be home to make dinner with Jack when he gets back from school. 

Rian’s anxious the whole drive home, flowers in the passenger seat, tapping his hands nervously on the steering wheel. What if he’s overthinking this whole thing? What if he’s fucking up the best thing in his life by proposing? What if all the nice words Jack said don’t mean marriage, they just mean staying together? What if Rian’s about to make the stupidest decision of his life? 

Jack’s car is already in the driveway when Rian gets back. He wasn’t expecting Jack to beat him home. It makes the pit in his stomach open wider, makes him even more anxious. He drops his keys five times before he finally manages to get them into the lock and open the door. 

“Ri?” Jack calls when Rian’s through the door. Camden comes sprinting through the house, barking excitedly at Rian until he picks him up, holding him in one arm while trying to keep the roses out of the way. 

“Yeah. You’re home early.” 

“Took the rest of my shit home. Why the fuck should I grade bad essays on The Odyssey at my desk when I can grade them on our couch while you yell at Jeopardy.” 

“I don’t yell at Jeopardy,” Rian says, offended.  

“Yes you do babe,” Jack says. Rian drops his bag by the front of the kitchen, placing the flowers on the counter and Cam on the floor. Jack’s back is turned to him, watching the chicken quesadillas he’s making in the pan intensely. Rian sneaks up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and running his hands over Jack’s hip bones, resting his chin on Jack’s shoulder. Jack sighs, leaning back into the touch. 

“Hi,” Rian says softly, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.  

“Hi,” Jack says, turning his head to get a kiss from Rian. He glances over Rian’s shoulder, perking up when he notices the flowers on the counter. 

“You bought flowers?” 

“I did.” 

“For your other lover?” Jack teases, abandoning the pan to turn around in Rian’s arms, kiss him softly. Rian smiles, tugging Jack closer, kissing his lips, his neck. Jack laughs, squirming in his arms. 

“You can’t kiss me like that while I’m cooking. We’ll start a fire,” Jack says. Rian rolls his eyes, letting Jack play with his hair. 

“I missed you,” Rian says softly. Jack snorts. 

“It was only 8 hours babe,” he teases. 

“You didn’t text me today. I’m used to you texting me.” 

“The teens were being wild today. I don’t remember this much drama when I was their age,” Jack says. Rian rolls his eyes, pulls Jack in for a hug. 

Jack eventually wiggles from Rian’s hold, turning back to the stove. Camden’s flopped down next to them, sighing heavily. Rian swallows, hand in his pocket fingering the ring box. 

“Hey Jack?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you marry me?” Rian asks, sinking to one knee, pulling the box out. 

“Very funny Ri,” Jack says, turning to face him. Whatever else he was going to say dies as he takes in the sight of Rian on the floor. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Holy shit,” Jack breathes out. 

“I’m not the English teacher, but I have a whole speech planned. You know, the moment I met you, I knew. I saw you standing in the corner of Alex’s living room, yelling at him to pick better music and I knew. I wanted to commit everything to memory because that was the memory I wanted to tell everyone at our wedding. I’ve known since the minute you demanded to see my tattoo in front of everyone and practically stripped me shirtless that I wanted to marry you. You’re it for me Jack. When I was 17 and scared shitless at the idea that I liked men, I didn’t know what to do. I never felt confident or comfortable enough to come out, to be myself, to picture myself with someone like you. And then I met you and it’s all I could picture. You made me comfortable with myself, happy with myself. Your endless love and support and just being reminds me everyday how lucky I am to know you, to have met you, to have you love me. You’ve never given a shit about my depression or the way I am or my anxiety. You just remind me of brighter days, of the idea that I’m allowed to have this, to have your love. I can’t picture my life without you, without loving you. I want forever. So, will you marry me?” Rian asks. 

“Yes, what the fuck yes! Of course I’ll fucking...come here!” Jack shouts, dragging Rian up to him. He pulls Rian in for a kiss, bumped noses and teeth because they’re too excited to kiss properly. Jack leans back, tears running down his cheeks, smiling widely. 

“I was worried for a minute,” Rian jokes, pulling the ring from the box and sliding it onto Jack’s finger. Jack holds his hand out admiring it. 

“Like I would say no. Maybe all the coffee has fired your brain cells,” Jack teases. He turns to Rian, kissing him again, softer this time. 

“You never know.”

“Hell would freeze over before I said no to marrying you. You’re the love of my life,” he says, quietly. Rian smiles, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

“Hey, is something burning?” Rian asks after a few moments, when he realizes he smells smoke. 

“Oh shit!” Jack yells, turning frantically to fix the burning quesadillas, fanning the smoke to stop it from setting off the smoke detector. Rian laughs, helpless in the face of Jack’s panic, Camden’s distressed barking. It’s perfect, it’s everything Rian’s ever wanted in life. It’s everything he’s wanted since he met Jack at Alex’s brunch. It’s the life he’s always wanted.

[sambergscott]

a little drabble inspired by this message from @fourdrinkamy​ ant how big and alert mac’s eyes are!! i'm gonna go cry again

it’s crazy that waking up at 6.30am is considered a lie in for him now. with a newborn, who is half-santiago, long gone are the days he’d sleep in til noon. most days he’s up before it’s even light outside. his coffee intake has more than quadrupled, but it’s totally worth it to hang out with the baby they wanted for so long.

his bed is empty, which is a little unusual. amy likes to stay in bed with mac in the mornings and snuggle under the covers and finish last night’s crossword together (she gives him the clues and pretends he knows the answer, booping him on his lil nose before filling in the appropriate boxes) (it’s the cutest thing in the entire world).

he fumbles for the baby monitor on his nightstand, blindly turning it on. it crackles, then he hears amy’s laughter.

he’s always loved her laugh. the way her eyes crinkle in the corners, the way she tilts her head, the way she keeps a not-so-secret note in her phone of the funniest things he’s said (she started it when he was in florida) (it was rosa’s idea to help ease the pain of missing him) (whenever he catches her adding to it he falls in love even more and gets brainstorming on the next joke).

he still thinks about their undercover date as johnny and dora when she said him making her laugh was how she knew he was the one. he’s always been the class clown (or now, precinct clown) (terry literally hired him to be a clown at cagney and lacey’s 3rd birthday party) but ever since he met her outside that elevator, he’s really only cared about making one person laugh.

her.

thrilled that their son has inherited his comedic talents, and already missing his 2 favourite people, he hops out of bed and heads for the nursery, leaning against the door frame to take in the tableau.

amy is in the rocking chair her mom and dad gave them (it was the one they used for all their babies and as amy was their only daughter, they thought it was the perfect baby gift), mac swaddled in her arms. she has her phone out, showing him something, and mac’s big, alert eyes are staring right at it, a tiny baby smile tracing his lips.

“thought we had a no screen time before 9am rule?”

she glances up at him, her own smile widening. “i guess motherhood has turned me into a rebel”

“oh yeah, you’re a total rebel” he teases, thinking back to yesterday when they went to ikea for some finishing touches to the nursery and she made him walk all the way round to go back and get something they forgot, just so they weren’t walking against the direction of the arrows. “what’s so important that it’s got you breaking rules, santiago?”

“oh, nothing” she shrugs, acting cool. “just showing him some pictures”

he narrows his eyes suspiciously. call it detective intuition. “what pictures?”

“just some ones of you, doesn’t matter”

he pieces together the final piece of the puzzle (metaphorically, of course, because he always loses at least one piece and it drives amy crazy that they can never finish a 2,000 piece puzzle that they’ve spent days working on). “YOU’RE SHOWING HIM THE NOSE RING PHOTO!”

“what? no” she says way too quick and he can see through her lies like the perp he arrested last week that denied stabbing a guy, despite holding a knife and being covered in blood

“you swore you would never tell anyone!”

“and i’ve kept that promise all these years! i just got my phone out to take a picture of him making a cute face and then my phone said my storage was full, you know, because i’ve been taking so many pictures of him, and then i was going back and deleting stuff from my camera roll when i found it”

“i have never felt more betrayed. and by my own wife” he makes a noise of disgust

“i’m sorry, babe, but it’s just so funny. he loves it, look”

he walks over to them and watches as amy swipes right to a random picture of some binders and then left, back to the nose ring photo, mac’s face lighting up at the offending image

“you think laughing at daddy is cool, pal?” he points an accusing finger at mac who makes a gurgling happy sound (that’s not quite a laugh yet, but is the closest baby version to it and is his new favourite sound in the world) (even better than taylor’s bridge in last kiss and the way amy says his name whenever he’s done something sweet)

“only when he has long hair and a nose ring” amy responds on mac’s behalf

“hilarious” he deadpans, rolling his eyes. he cut his hair years ago and yet his wife will not let him live it down

“you tell him embarrassing stories about me!” she cries

“amy, all your embarrassing stories are that you got an a- on a test once or you solved a case in two weeks instead of one or your ponytail wasn’t quite as shiny as it usually is. it’s not nose ring level embarrassing”

“fine,” she concedes “i apologise, i won’t bring it up again. unless he wants a nose ring, in which case it is my duty as his mom to show him how dumb he’d look”

“fine,” he agrees, ignoring the hurtful comment. he actually looked super cool and he scored one whole date because of the nose ring until it got infected and he had to take it out and the girl was no longer interested. whatever. her loss. he ended up with his dream girl anyway

“want to hold him and make friends again while i go change into something not covered in baby spit-up?”

“always.” he carefully accepts the precious cargo, bouncing him gently in his arms. he kisses amy before she leaves the room, squashing mac in between them, and spends the next 20 minutes showing mac all his amy photos, the 9am rule be damned

(yeah, he’s a rebel too. he once had a freakin’ nose ring)

when amy returns in clean clothes and her natural curls that she hasn’t bothered taming since mac was born, she raises her eyebrows. “showing him embarrassing photos of me? low blow, peralta”

“i’m actually not, santiago,” he says snarkily, then murmurs “i couldn’t find any” under his breath

“then why have you still got a screen in front of him?” she rests one hand on her hip

“i’m showing him normal pictures of you. he needs to see how pretty his mom is, babe! it’s a rite of passage! like a bar mitzvah”

she gets this soft look on his face despite herself and he would pat himself on the back if he weren’t holding his son

“for the record,” he adds, “he thinks his mom is suuuuper pretty. the prettiest mom in the entire world”

“he told you that did he?” she laughs

“mm-hmm. we’re bros so he confided in me, he probably wouldn’t say it again while you’re around but he’s definitely thinking it”

“well thank you my little macaroni,” she coos and honest to god, the nickname (of his nickname) was only supposed to be a joke at first, but now it’s kind of stuck and their entire family are calling him macaroni

(charles loves it)

(the first time hitchcock and scully heard it, on the other hand, they thought someone had brought in a delicious bowl of macaroni and cheese and were highly disappointed that they were just talking about the baby again, storming back to their desks in a huff)

“i think you’re very handsome too, mr mac”

“i told you, ames. he’s liquid fire. liquid. fire.”

she laughs again and mac gurgles and he thinks that if he can spend his entire life doing that, making his 2 favourite people laugh, then they’re going to be ok

[heychangbin]

The Camping Trip ║ Part Three

Summary: You hike through the gorge trail and catch lunch, have some heart-to-heart with billy before packing everything up and returning to the city.

Wordcount: 6239

Warnings: smut towards the end.

A/N: Last part of this trip!! thanks for coming along for the ride. 

You woke in increments, a low indistinct murmuring filtering through the haze of sleep, you hum at the feel of lips brushing feather light against the shell of your ear, the drag of a beard against the apple of your cheek, fingertips being ghosting up and down your arm, and a pleasant weight on your back. 

 "Billy…" the word laced with want and need, shifting your hips backwards to grind against him turning his murmuring to a groan as strong hands grip and still your movement. 

 “As much as I wanna tire you out first thing in the morning, I dont think it’s such a good idea.”

 “Whaddaya mean?” your brows furrow in confusion as you continue to try and grid against him. 

 Billy rarely ever turned down morning sex, even when he was overseas on a contract, if he had time to squeeze in a quick jerk while you two were on the phone, he’d take it.

 “It’s a ten minute walk to the showers,”

 That made you stop and turn to look over your shoulder, the foggy image of him tying up a condom coming to your mind's eye. 

 “That why you—”

 “Didn’t think it’d be a fun way to wake up”

 You turn to face him, the sheet pulling down and tight against your body with the movement and see that he’s dressed in fresh clothes, face washed and hair slicked back away from his face. Knowing him, he’s probably already been on his morning run 

 “You brought more than one, right?.” 

 He shifts and props himself on his elbows, body hovering over yours, lowering his head and pressing his lips to yours, his tongue coaxing your mouth open, your arms coming up to circle his neck as you kick your leg out of the sheet, hooking over his hip. Before the kiss could get too heated he pulls away, resting his forehead to yours, 

 “No more group trips after this.” he murmurs, his breath fanning across your face, "At least not the kind where we don't have solid ten inch walls between us and the rest of the world" he continues, making you chuckle as he lowers himself beside you, arms reaching out and bringing you close, hugging you to his chest for a moment, the gentle notes of sandalwood and spices from his cologne fill your nose while his fingers trace idle patterns on your arm. You feel your eyelids get heavier, your breathing evening out with every inhale

 "Breakfast is getting cold."

 His words pull you from the cusps of sleep and make you groan, bury your face further into the crook of his neck making him chuckle and squeeze your shoulder before pulling away and saying, 

 “C’mon, I’ll save you a cup.” before climbing out the bed and stepping out of the tent, leaving you alone.

 You roll onto your back and starfish across the blown up mattress for a moment, wiping and blinking your eyes exaggeratedly to dispel the last remaining dredges of sleep from them and climb out, stretching until your back gives a satisfying pop and reach for your clothes, changing into them quickly and slip into the flip flops that Billy insisted you bring. You reach for your phone bringing the screen to life and wince at the time, cursing under your breath as you put it to sleep and slip it into the pocket of your jeans. 

 Stepping out of the tent you rear your head back, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes, the morning is brighter than what you expected, making you squint and blink your eyes rapidly to help them adjust while you make your way to where Billy is standing, blue white speckled cup in his hand, talking with Frank, who looked like a lumberjack with his red plaid shirt, distressed washed out jeans, and dark worn boots, sans the mustache and beard. 

 Ten minute walk to the showers and everyone’s awake. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing these guys, you’re pretty sure Billy, Frank, and Curt had gone on a morning jog together, maybe even a race. 

 “Where’s everyone?” you ask, when you come to a stop next to Billy, reaching for the cup in his hand and cradling it in your own, bringing it to your lips and blowing on it a few times, the palms of your hands soaking in the warmth that seeps from the aluminum cup before taking a generous gulp of the sweetened coffee.

 “Karen’s in our tent gettin’ her stuff to head to the showers.” Frank said, handing you a plate with toast and a couple of sunny side up eggs. 

 “Curt? Matt ‘nd Foggy?” you ask, setting down your cup and taking the plate form Frank, quickly breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it into the runny yellow center of an egg, half expecting to at least find Curt with Billy and Frank.

 You noticed the change in their faces instantly, their eyes hardening and the corners of their mouths turning down in a slight frown. You had seen that look on Billy's face before and it had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, making you forget about the food in your hands. 

 After a beat Billy cleared his throat, his words somber as he spoke,  

 “Guy we served with reached out, ((seems to have run into some trouble)),” your eyes scanned the area, expecting to see Curt pacing along the treeline as he spoke into his phone. You’ve heard about some of the men Billy and Frank had served with, even met a few of them, knew that they weren't the type to come knocking on their door for a backyard BBQ, but the space was empty...emptier than it had been before you stepped into your tent last night. 

 “Curt headed out a couple hours ago, couldn’t get in touch with Reyes or Romano, Nelson offered to make a few calls to get Jameson out but was told that,” Billy paused, his face scrunching up in distaste before he continued, “that due to the severity of the crime and Jameson’s….particular skill set, the judge was….he’s withholding bail.”

 Your eyes widened, the piece of toast falling from your limp fingers onto your plate, you had met Jameson a couple of times before back when Anvil was in the stages of its infancy, he had been one of the few trainers Billy had hired alongside Frank, a mountain of a man, with an intense presence and few words, most of them used to give an insight of the devotion he had towards his little girl. 

 “What did he—”

 “He didn’t do it,” Frank interrupted, voice hard leaving no room for argument, “Whatever it is that they’re accusing him of, he didn’t do it. Jameson, he wouldn’t do that to his family, he’d—” he cut himself off, letting out a long huff, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, fingertips digging into the cartilage that never set right.

 People change Frankie, thought you’d understand that better than most, after Maria and the kids….your eyes jumped from Billy to Frank and back to Billy, who shook his head. 

 “Curt and Frank know the guy and they say he ain’t the type,” Billy says, hand reaching for the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out his phone, giving the screen a few quick taps and flicks. Dark eyes scanning the screen as a smile pulled at the corner of his lips followed by a few more taps, “and they’ve never steered me wrong” he continued, pressing the power button, making the screen go dark and returning it to the back pocket of his jeans.

 “Just put the boys on retainer, don’t worry Frankie, Jameson is gonna be in the best of hands.”

 Boys? You looked over at Billy, brow arched in question as you set your plate down. You knew of the lawyers that Curt had on hand for anything and everything to do with his veterans group, had spent a few afternoons helping him do some paperwork with them, and none of them were boys

 “Nelson and Murdock. ”

 “Still no Mick and Linda?” asked Karen as she made her way to where you were standing, hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the crown of her head, a soft looking green towel over her shoulder, and a blue mesh shower caddy in her hand. 

 “Curt hasn’t been able to get a hold of them yet, and it’s been a few hours since Jameson called” he said shrugging, picking a piece of toast from your plate and popping it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it quickly, “from the looks of it, it ain’t a vet thing, but if they need to be brought on later we’ll give them a call.”

 That mean… “We should get going if we wanna get through a couple of these trails and catch lunch.”

 You groaned internally as you throw back the last of your coffee, setting down the tin cup on the table and turning to head back to your tent.

 “Want me to wait for you?” you heard Karen call, but you waved her off, throwing a quick, “i’ll catch up with you” over your shoulder. 

 *****

 The trek through the gorge alone was worth the four hour drive to the state park. You’d never expected such a place to be so near the city. 

 Stepping out of the entrance tunnel and onto the bridge was something else, the shades of green and yellow in the trees, the sun light streaming in overhead and the glistening walls of rock, you had been able to hear the roaring of the waterfall, had been fully expecting it, but seeing it, framed between two walls of rock, with scattered leafs and vines was breathtaking. 

 You leaned your hands on the top of the bridge wall, the stone cool and damp under your palms, the sound of the rushing water drowning out the noise of the passersby around you as you watched the water break at the bottom, joining the stream that continued gently down its course.

 Billy's hand a warm weight on your back as he said, 

 “Frank and Karen went on head, but we can’t fall too far behind if we wanna catch lunch.

 You turned to look at him, brown raised in question, “You made reservations? What kind of place takes reservations but is okay with you walking in in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers? Is it a local hotspot that's always full?”

 The corner of his lips pulled up into a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes that would’ve gone unnoticed to someone that didn’t know him like you did. 

 “C’mon, we better get going if you’re gonna stop at every fall like this.”

 Every fall? “How many are there?” you ask turning to him fully

 “Nineteen.” The smile on his lips grew, crinkling the corner of his eyes as yours widened in disbelief.

 Better get movin’ then. You took his hand and tugged, continuing on at a leisurely pace, always mindful of the slick stone at your feet and the water that fell like soft raindrops, stopping for a moment to admire the cavern on the side of the rock wall, taking in the dozens upon dozens of erosion lines that littered its surface and the cascade in front of it before continuing on to the next set of stair that took you further into the gorge. At the top, nestled between two walls of eroded rock was fall number three, the water a brilliant white as it fell off the edge towards the bottom, beyond it a cluster of trees in shades of greens and light yellows, the sunlight streaming in making everything seem like it had an otherworldly glow. You reach for your phone, pressing and flicking the screen to bring up your camera, taking a couple of pictures, focusing on the white frothy water. 

 “Can’t get any better than this.” you murmur as you take one last shot of the fall before pocketing your phone, you catch the ends of a smile on Billy’s lips before he turns and continues to guide you through the trail. 

 You’re reaching the next set of steps when you feel your eyes widen and understand why Billy had chuckled, you had thought that the trail led you past the waterfall, not behind it, as you got closer the water got louder and the spray of the water grew, littering your skin in tiny drops that helped cool it, and when you walked directly behind it, you couldn't help but reach out and touch it, pulling it back almost immediately due to it being so cold.  

 You continued on to the next set of steps that lead you through a short tunnel, through it a wall littered with vines and tree branches that ranged from greens, to yellows and browns, and when you turned to continue down the trail it was made even more majestic by the stone walkway and the brilliant sun that shined down on the scene, reaching for your phone again to take a few more pictures.

 After a few steps you caught sight of the next fall up ahead and quickened your pace, taking out your phone and took a short video of the multiple small falls that cascade into the peaceful stream. When your finished you pocket your phone and come to stand beside Billy, ((whose)) fingers are tapping about the screen of his phone. 

 “Got your shot Warhol?” Billy asks as he pockets his device, making you roll your eyes at him. 

 “Yeah, I did.”

 You continue down the narrow walkway looking between the calm stream, the looming trees overhead and the mossy rock walls before turning onto the next set of steps that lead you higher above the gorge.

 The next stop was Glen Cathedral, and it was even more beautiful than the last stop you had made. The trees were high above the rock walls, the sunlight shining on a smattering of greens, yellows, browns, reds, and oranges. 

 You made it to the central cascade and the rainbow falls both of them breathtaking in their beauty, but your favorite had to be the view from mile point bridge, where you reunited with Frank and Karen, looping back together. 

 *****

 When Frank and Billy had said “catch lunch” you had expected to go off the trail into town, to a small secluded bistro with patio tables that served iced drinks in little mason jars and plating was worth a picture to add to your personal social media, you hadn’t thought that they had meant it literally. Which if you were being honest, was on you. 

 You’ve known Frank for a while now, knew that that wasn’t his style. 

 That’s how you found yourself in a charter boat, a spinning rod in your hands, line casted a few feet from the rear end of the boat, the round red and white marker attached to it bobbing with the minute waves.  

 If you were being honest, you didn't mind it, it felt nice to hold a fishing rod in your hands again, even if it wasn’t the one you had back home and it didn’t have your lucky lure, had you had it you were sure that you would’ve caught a fish by now.

 It was getting close to the 20 minute mark and all you felt on your line were tentative nibbles, while Frank and Billy had already caught several fish between them and Karen had had the bad luck of reeling too soon before the fish was properly hooked on her line.

 You know it’s a game of patience and tamp down the urge to reel your line back in and cast it again, especially when you see the tug on Karen's fishing line, Frank coaching her on how to feel if the fish is properly hooked to be reeled in. 

 Dave, the guy that took you out into the lake, checks his watch and mentions that your time with the boat is almost up. You hear Frank and Billy say that you’ve caught enough to make lunch for the four of you, to start heading back to shore. 

 You start reeling in your line when you feel a tug that makes you stop, when there is no pull you begin to crank the lever again, giving it a few full turns when there is a tug on the line again. 

 A nibbler, Instead of continuing to reel the line back in, you tug the rod back a few times, hoping that it entices the fish to actually bite the lure. After a few quick tugs, you feel the sudden pull, you plant your feet, pull the rod straight up and start to reel in earnest, ignoring the commotion behind you.

 It isn't long before the fish breaks the surface of the water, and when it does you feel your eyes widen in a mixture of shock and awe. It’s big, with silvery scares,  muddy yellow fins and light spots along it’s back and sides, you ((offhandedly)) register Frank leaning over the edge of the rear, holding out the fishing net to catch the large fish when it’s close enough, Karen’s hand fisted in the back of his shirt, holding him so he wouldn't fall, Billy coming up behind you and helping you hold the rod as you cranked the lever.

 Everyone gave a satisfied cheer when Frank slid the net under it and pulled it onboard, opening its mouth and pulling the hook out from the corner of its mouth. 

 “This is a whole lotta fish” he says holding it up and he’s right, the fish easily clears the foot long mark and is wider than Franks arms. You idly wonder how the sheer size and weight if it didn’t snap your fishing line as Frank sets it in the cooler with the other fish that had been caught while Billy gives the go ahead to Dave to head back to shore. 

 ************

 You reach the campsite, after making a quick stop at a store on the way back, Billy made quick work of cutting and cleaning the large fish you had caught, putting away the smaller ones in a ziplock bag, saying a quick,

 “Lunch tomorrow”  as he tossed the bag into the cooler

 “I thought we were packing up after breakfast?”

 “You really wanna drive 4 hours back to the city with fish in a cooler?” Billy arched a brow, managing to make it look questioning and judging at the same time.

 “He’s got a point there.” Piped up Frank from where he was crouched over, cleaning the burned out remnants of the fire form the morning and got to work starting a new one, Billy dunking the fish in a large bowl of water, running the edge of a knife along its’ body, scraping off the scales, while you and Karen were put on vegetable duty, cleaning and chopping carrots and potatoes, packing them in foil.

 It wasn't long before Frank had a fire going under the grill rack, moving and spacing out the flaming chunks of wood and turning it into a low flame.

 You, Karen, and Frank were sitting in your chairs, enjoying a beer as the veggie packs cooked on the rack, the skillet heating up beside them, when Billy made his way over with the prepped fish, placing two fillets at a time on the skillet, the pink meat sizzling as it was laid down. It only took a few moments for the aroma of herbs, spices, and a hint of lemon to waft into the air, making your mouth water.

 After a few minutes Billy flipped the fish, the top a nicely toasted brown, after a few more minutes and Karen was handing Billy the plates, Billy loading each one with a pack of veggies and a golden fish fillet. 

 Hints of spices engulfed your tongue after the first bite, forcing you to suppress a moan as you chewed,

 “This is amazing!” you say after swallowing your first bite, fork working on breaking off another piece.

 “You sound surprised, what? Didya think we were gonna have you eating beans out off a can?” 

 Your enthusiastic chewing stopped as you threw a sidelong look at Karen, who was also avoiding looking at Frank and Billy, her fork picking aimlessly at the food on her plate.

 “You really thought I’d feed you canned beans? I’ve made you dinner before!”

 “You’ve plated takeout Billy, that doesn’t count." You deadpan, before shoving another bite into your mouth, Billy’s eyebrows quirk in question while your words send Karen into a fit of laughter. 

 You ate the remainder of your meal and shared various stories until the sky began to turn and the air got chilly, making quick work of the clean up while the fire, that was fed every so often, was put out. After checking that everything was put away and the trash bag was out of reach from any potential midnight thieves (Frank, Billy and Curt had woken up to Matt chasing away a couple of raccoons), you say your goodnights and head to your tent with Billy at your side.

You go through your nightly routine, stripping your clothes, tossing them in the hamper and pulling your Anvil shirt on, then move to one of the small tables and pick up the things to brush your teeth before climbing into bed, Billy settling behind you a few minutes later, his arm going around your waist and pulling you back against him, his hand snaking its way under your shirt and resting on the skin of your stomach, thumb swiping across the skin under your sternum. 

 As you lay in bed, the faint sounds of crickets and the gentle sound of Billy’s breathing filling the empty space, you thought over the past couple days, the satisfaction you felt helping pitch up your tent, victory when you found your way back to your campsite, wonderment as you walked through the gorge, exhilaration when you reeled in the large trout, most of all amazed at the fact that despite the amount of years you had known Billy, there are still things to learn about him. 

 Your mind wandered to things you wished you had had time to do, like swim in a lake, chop down a tree, take a shot at building a fire yourself, sleep under the stars….

 “Bill?” you whispered into the dark, taking his wrists and squeezing, repeating his name a little louder. 

 “what is it?” he mumbles into your hair half asleep.

 “Didya mean it? What you said this morning,” you shift and turn in the circle of his arms until you're on your side facing him. “About next time, it just being us.”

 A slow smile spread across his face, his hand coming up to cup your face,

 ‘Yeah, I meant it, just us," he pauses for a beat, as if deep in thought before continuing, "or investing in multiple packs or earplugs."

 You snort, smacking him in the middle of his chest with the back of your hand,

 “Didn’t mean that,”

 “What did you mean then?”

 “Being out here, unplugged, it was fun, relaxing, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.”

 The corners of his lips pull up in a gentle smile, pushing the apple of his cheeks up and crinkling the corners of his eyes, 

 “I wouldn’t mind doing it again either.” he murmurs, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours, humming when his tongue pushes past your lips and delves into your mouth, your hand snakes between your bodies, cupping him through the thin material of his boxer briefs, feeling him grow stiff as you squeezed and stroke his length, groaning into your mouth before sinking his teeth into your bottom lip and tugging as his hips move in counterpoint with your hand. 

 “Please tell me you brought more than the one condom.” 

 “Y-yeah, they’re—” a groan rumbles in his chest as you drag your hand along his length, your grip twisting as you neared the tip, “fuck, they’re in my….in my….if you keep”

 You slowed and slackened your hold on him, while seeing how long you could make Billy hold off releasing in your hand was your favorite game; it wasn’t what you had in mind for tonight. You pull your hand away and Billy throws the sheets off his body, climbing off the bed in the same motion, long legs carrying him to the hanging organizers in a handful of strides; hands reach in and riffle through one of the compartments, returning to the bed just as quickly and tossing the foil packet onto his pillow.

 He made his way between your legs, holding himself over your body, your arms going around his neck, hand threading themselves in the longer strands of his hair as he lowered himself and kissed you. His lips moved against yours with purpose as you dragged your nails against the back of his head, his hand slid over to your breast, long fingers cupping and squeezing the pliable mound, his thumb sweeping across the peaking bud, before he pinched and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, making you moan into his mouth. 

 His hand gripped and squeezed as it made its way down your chest, gripping the edge of your shirt and pulling on it insistently, pulling away from you and pushing it up and over your head, returning his lips to your overheating skin, kissing a trail along the column of your neck. You hissed in pain, back arching off the bed slightly, when you felt his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your collarbone, before moving on to the top of your breast, sucking it into his mouth. 

 He presses opened mouth kisses to every inch of skin as he continues downward, licking and nipping the inside of your legs as he settles himself between your thighs, making you hum when you feel his lips press against the apex of your mound and down along the folds.

 He teases you relentlessly, a long dexterous finger joining his ministrations, running up and down your lips, spreading the wetness that he’s working out of you while his tongue lightly flicks and circles  your clit. His tongue working you over harder when he adds a second finger, pushing them past your folds and pumping them into you, the pads of his fingers brushing against your soft walls, eliciting moans and groans from you, your skin turning feverish as you grip and guide his head over to where you need him, your hips undulating of their own accord. 

 You're a writhing mess when he works a third finger into you, pumping, curling, and massaging your walls, that coupled with the way his mouth is insistently working your clit has you hurtling towards your orgasm. Your hands fly to cover your mouth, muffling the long dragged out moan, your legs clamping around Billy’s head as you curl in on yourself. 

 You flop back down in a heap, feeling boneless and high, body jolting as Billy’s gives you a few final licks, and begins to lazily kiss his way back up.

 “Been wantin’ to do that since this mornin’” he murmurs, lips ghosting against the base of your neck before he nips the skin over your pulse point. 

 You wrap your arms around his shoulder, dragging  your fingernails across his shoulder blades, fueling the quiet rumble in his chest, 

 “Been wantin’ to do something since this mornin’ too.” you say against his temple, you drag your hand back and over his shoulder, laying your palm on his chest and give a hard shove, flipping him over and onto his back, and quickly climb over on top of him, a little too quickly. You let out a surprised yelp when your knee slips over the edge of the bed, the rest of your body following the momentum. You would have landed on your face had it not been for the strong arms that circle your waist and roll you back to the middle of the bed.

 “That usually works and is infinitely more sexy when we do it at home.” you say between heaving breaths. 

 Billy lets out a rumbling laugh, kissing the top of your head and saying,

 “Might be because our bed at home takes up half our bedroom.” he rubs the length  of your arms a few times before pulling back to look at your face, “You alright?”

 “Yeah, didn’t hurt anything, just my pride”

 He lets out another small chuckle, fingers brushing back a few strands of damp hair you can feel sticking to the side of your face “if you wanna try again, I’m all for it.”

 “Can’t imagine being sexy after that.”

 “Hey,” he pulls back, pushing your chin up to raise your head so you meet his eyes, “there’s nothing sexier than making someone laugh in the middle of sex.”

 His eyes are intense and you know he means what he just said, it makes your chest bloom in warmth, you stretch and press your lips against his, flicking your tongue against the seam of his lips as your hand reaches for the edge of his boxers. You can tell his erection has flagged a bit, most likely due to the scare of you falling, so you forgo the elastic and palm him through the fabric, pumping and  squeezing the shaft while deepening the kiss. 

 It isn't long before his hips are grinding into your hand, dick hard and dampening the front of his boxers. You pull away from him and with hurried hands push the underwear down, scooting down the bed to pull them off his legs and tossing them somewhere over the edge as you hear the crinkling and tearing of the condom packet, when you look back up, Billy is rolling the condom onto himself. You make your way back up and settle over his waist, lowering yourself onto him, running your wet sex over his harden length, his hands reach out and grip your waist, fingertips digging hard into the soft skin as his legs come up behind you. 

 There's a flush that spreads over his chest as you continue to roll your hips, his hands helping to guide the speed in which you move, when he starts tossing his head back and his hips begging to give aborted buck you lift yourself onto your knees, reach for his length and guide it to your entrance and slowly sink down. His eyes roll back and a low groan rumbles in his throat, while you bite your lower lip to stifle the moan that’s threatening to push past your lips. 

 Once he’s fully inside you, you pause for a moment, breathing deep and slow to fully adjust, you give a tentative roll of your hips making him hiss and grip your thighs, then another, and another and soon his hands are urging you faster, his own hips pushing off the bed and thrusting into you, his hands reaching up to squeeze and push at the swell of your breasts, leaving pink prints behind as it continues up to your neck. 

 You lean forward, palms splayed and fingernails digging into his chest as you continue to ride him, you're close to your second release, and you tell him as much between labored breaths. The hand that's gripping your neck brings you down, angling your head to the side and slotting his lips over yours, tongue pushing past your lips and turning it deep and filthy as he shifts your position, rolling you both onto your side, grabbing the back of your knee and hooking it over his hip and pistons into you with reckless abandon, making you reach your climax with a silent scream. Billy follows soon after, his thrusts becoming disjointed before stilling against yours a few moments later with a bitten off moan. 

 He props himself up on his elbows, his breathing was ragged as he held himself over you for a beat before dipping his head dragging his lips against yours slowly in a final kiss and pulling out of you, letting himself fall beside you on the bed.

 You struggle to keep your eyes open long enough for Billy to get rid of the condom and hug yourself to him but you tried anyway, forcing your eyes open until you felt the bed dip again when he climbs back on, settling behind you, pulling you against his chest and murmuring something that sounded like a goodnight against the back of your ear, only then did you let your eyes to slip close and allow yourself to drift into unconsciousness.

 -May 24 2015-

 Morning comes too soon for your liking, making you groan when you feel Billy pull away from you, he chuckles and presses a quick kiss to your temple and saying,

 "C'mon lazy bones, we got a busy mornin' ahead of us."

 "Or" you said, rolling over onto your back the bedsheet pooling around your waist, exposing your bare breasts, "we could lay here and just forget the world."

 "As tempting as that notion is, and believe me, it is very tempting, we both have morning meetings tomorrow that can't be rescheduled."

 You roll your eyes and groan, "thanks for the reminder."

 You love your job, you really do, Mr. Fitzgerald is one of the few decent men you had come to work for in New York, but that didn't mean the people he worked with were the same. You thanked your lucky stars that you only had to deal with the board members once every few months. 

 "And before you start with your Anvil pitch, I'll think about it when Mr. Fitzgerald retires.”

 Billy climbs on the bed again, arms braced on either side of your head holding himself over you. 

 "I’m just sayin’, I run a pretty tight ship at Anvil, you wouldn’t have to deal with ((half)) the bullshit you deal with working for Mr. whatever-his-name-is.”

 You chuckle, running your hand over his chest, “Mr. Fitzgerald and you know why I’m not jumping to work at Anvil”

 Billy’s head rolls along with his eyes and lets himself flop next to you, lifting his hand and gesticulating as he spoke,

 “It wouldn't be the same thing and you wouldn’t have to be my secretary, there’s always positions for trainers, HR, Jenson is still looking for a capable accounting assistant.

 “And before you go on your “i dont wanna ride anyones coattails” or whatever speech, I’m not involved with the hiring process, that’s all HR. and we have a strict unbiased policy.

 “So if you manage to get a position at Anvil, it’ll be all on your own merit. Nothing else, not cuz you’re sleeping with the CEO, not because you have nice legs, a great rack, or have a peach of an ass, it’ll be because you are more than capable for the position.”

 “I’ll think about it.” you say, meaning it more than you ever have.

 You shift to roll out of bed but stop when Billy doesn't move, you look up at him and arch your brows in question. 

 “While I have you here,” he pauses and you knew exactly where this was going,

 “Billy, it’s too early to have that conversation again,”

 He reaches for your hand, twining your fingers together and bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss to the back of your hand, “I just wanna take care of you.”

 “You already do Billy, so much”

 “Right now, sure, but...this would be for the future, whatever it is, if somethin’...somethin’ happens and I’m—” you press two fingers to his lips, silencing him. you wouldn’t let his thoughts go there. 

 “I’ll think about it.” you say, reaching up and pressing your lips to the bridge of his nose, climbing over him and out of bed, reaching for your clothes and getting dressed. 

 *******

 Billy had been right to say you had a busy morning ahead of you. After a light breakfast of coffee and granola power bars and a quick trip to the showers, everyone got to work, picking up trash and putting away the nonessentials, packing them away in the back of the SUV.

 It was about midday when Billy started to work on getting lunch ready, laying down fish fillets on the skillet and letting them cook for a few minutes before turning them over, taking them off the pan and letting them rest while he repeated the process with the next batch. A few minutes later, he was handing out plates with fish tacos on them. And wondered, not for the first time, where Billy had gotten his culinary skills and why he had hid them for this long.

 You and Karen were coming back from tossing out the trash and washing the inside of the cooler, plates and the pan Billy had used a few sites over to find Billy and Frank had taken down and were meticulously folding the tents.

 A few minutes later, you were all piling into the SUV, Billy pulling out of the site and heading back up the dirt road you had taken back to the city.

---------

Gen: @juguitos @something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @suchatinyinfinity​ @bts-smolarmy @elanor-of-imladris 

Billy Russo: @nananananananananananabatman @shinebrightlikeafanbase  @emyyjemyy

Wanna know what other adventures you and Co. are in for? inbox, dm me or add yourself here!

[hellcaster901]

The Wedding Pt 6

Summary: Y/N is getting married in a few months, and its something that she’s been looking forward to for a while. But she runs into an old coworker, one that she just can’t help feel a connection to. Not only is her best friend not helping, but she’s trying to figure out now what she really wants.

Warnings: None, but there will be more soon!

Author’s Note: I hope you guys are staying safe and staying healthy in this crazy time! Hopefully reading makes things seem a bit less scary for us.

This is a bit of a shorter chapter, but the next one will be worth it.

Masterlist

~~~

We dressed in silence, taking sly looks at one another, a satisfied smirk on our faces as we dressed. I reached for my phone, not surprised that I didn’t get a message from Adam yet, no calls or anything, but I did get a call from Mary, and a small text that says ‘you owe me’. I rolled my eyes, looking back at Negan. He stood there, a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at me.

“I should be going.” I smiled, looking at the time, knowing if I didn’t leave now I would stay here all day. He nodded, looking over me. “I’m gonna…” I pointed at his room, stepping away from him. I turned quickly, jogging up the stairs and grabbing my pants. I pulled his sweats off of me, tugging the jeans up and letting his shirt fall softly on my waist. I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should sneak this shirt out or just leave it and regret it later. 

“You can keep it.” I jumped, turning and seeing Negan leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, staring at me with an amused smirk. “I don’t wear it, keep it on. It looks better on you than it did me, that's for sure.” He smirked, I blushed, grabbing my own top and folding it. 

“I guess I’ll take it.” I chuckled. Negan followed me as I grabbed my shoes, watching me as I moved around him home, gathering my things, almost making sure there wasn’t a trace of me when I left. I tugged my shoes on, shoving my shirt in my bag, my engagement ring scraping against my hand from the side pocket. I froze, reminding myself what I was going back to. I tugged the ring from the pocket, staring down at the rock. I twisted it in my fingers, the ring slipping through my fingers, landing on the floor and rolling towards Negan. “Shit.” I cursed, ready to reach for it as Negan bent down and grabbed the giant rock.

“Damn, he must really love you with the size of this thing.” He joked, inspecting it under his gaze. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“It’s so bulky, I was never one for a giant rock on my finger.” I chuckled, thinking back when he proposed. We were with his family, a family vacation and he popped the question on the first day. I remember panicking, saying yes to not embarrass us t in front of his parents, thinking that’s what my answer was. Negan held the ring out to me, the ring looking like a doll's toy in his massive hands. I held my palm out, but he quickly grabbed it with his other hand, turning my hand over. I stopped breathing as he looked down at my small hand, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. It was as if time had stopped as he lifted the engagement ring, slipping it over my ring finger, the band leaving a trail of fire as it made its way down my finger, finding its home as Negan let go. If I were to drop dead now, I’d be happy.

I looked up at him, my mouth gaped, the ring and his hand burning as skin, our eyes locking as he looked up at me. I could see he was surprised with what he did, not thinking of what he was going to do, but just did it. And with how much I didn’t want to feel, but my heart swelled, the thought of Negan proposing to me left me hot, left me happy, left me… excited. More than what I felt when Adam proposed. That scared me. 

I tugged my hand from his, hurriedly fixing my hair, a blush rising on my cheeks, making some excuse that I had to water my plants. Without a glance back at him I left his house, frantically unlocking my car and making a fast exit. 

I hardly remembered the drive as I pulled into my apartment parking lot. Cutting the engine and sitting there, speechless at what happened, speechless at what I felt. I searched for my phone in my bag, grabbing the machine and dialling Mary’s number. I put it on speaker, setting it on my dashboard, staring out the window with wide eyes. I must’ve looked crazy. 

“What happened?? Tell me everything!” She rushed into the phone, her excited voice filling my small car.

“Mary, it was… perfect.” I sighed, dropping my head to the steering wheel, the harsh rubber hitting my forehead. “The sex? Perfect.” I hummed, thinking back to all of it.

“God damn.” She sighed with me, hearing me talking about it all. 

“And we fell asleep together on the couch.” A smile rising on my lips.

“How did that happen?” Mary questions, the need to know was in her voice. 

“We sat there.” I explained, “And just talked, and it was perfect. It was like everything just felt right and I must’ve fallen asleep before him and he didn’t even want to move me for him to be comfortable.” Mary gave a wanted sigh, I’m sure imagining what it was like to sleep in his arms. 

“Girl, you have him wrapped around your finger.” She giggled. I shook my head.

“I think he has me wrapped around his finger.” I weakly fought back, “Adam didn’t even text me or call me once after I talked to him last night.” I mumbled, switching the topic. “I don’t even know if he’s home or not.” 

“He didn’t even check up on you?” Mary scoffed, “What an ass.”

“Stop it.” I rolled my eyes, lifting my head from the steering wheel and grabbing my stuff. “I’m sure he was just busy, I get being busy with the guys happens.” I brushed off, locking the car as I made my way to my apartment. 

“Um that doesn’t matter when you have a fiance.” Mary bit back. 

“Look, how about I call you once I settle, okay?” I huffed, climbing the flights of stairs to the apartment, just realizing how sore everything was on my body. “If Adam isn’t here, do you want to come over?”

“Already showering.” Mary laughed. “Bye!” She yelled. I rolled my eyes as she hung up, shoved the phone in my back pocket and grabbed my keys. I unlocked the door, none of the lights or anything were on as I stepped in. A sigh of relief left me as I dropped my stuff, dragging my body towards the shower.

I groaned with delight as I sprawled out on my bed, clean and in new clothes, checking my phone once again to see if there was anything from Adam, and again, nothing. I sighed, typing out a quick message.

‘Back home. Hope you had fun last night. Love you.’

I waited a few seconds, wondering if the bubbles were going to pop up, or anything, but nothing happened as I laid there. 

---

I groaned loudly, shoving my head into the ocean of pillows Mary kept on her bed. I didn’t know what to say or even how to start the conversation. “Why am I doing this!?” The pillows absorbing my muffled scream, “Why did I fuck him in that disgusting bathroom?” 

It had been a week since I had my sleep over of passion with Negan. A week since I’ve talked to him. Not that I was freaking out about it.

“From what you told me, you enjoyed that dirty bathroom.” Mary teased, I shifted my head, giving her a death glare from behind my hair, she only chuckled. “Look, you don’t have to say anything to him, or even see him. Just ghost him.” I scoffed, “But,” She added, flicking my arm, I mouthed an ‘ouch’ as I sat back up, pushing my hair down. “If you feel like you need to talk to him, just text him and tell him that things need to end.” The phone felt strangely heavy in my hands, the on going fact that I was going to send a fucking ‘break up’ text to man I’m not even dating, “Do you really want to end it with this man?” Mary emphasized, “You look pretty heart broken over the fact that you have to do this.” I shook my head.

“He’s just something fun.” I mumbled, convincing both of us as I tapped on the messages, the keyboard popping up on the screen. “Mary, he was married before, and it didn’t work for him. I don’t even think he’d want a relationship.” I explained, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. A relationship was something I was already in.  It was ridiculous to act this way, to freak out from not talking to him for almost over a week, but maybe that’s just my insecurities talking. Maybe some part of me actually thought this was more than just a hook up… and if that’s the case I needed to end this now before it got too serious.

“Have you guys even talked about this becoming more?”

“No.” I laughed, shaking my head, thinking back to when we agreed it was just for fun. “Am I overreacting? I feel like I’m overreacting.”

“Maybe a little bit?” Mary whispered.

“I feel like this is becoming more to me.” I mumbled, dropping my phone. Mary’s eyes widened, both of us surprised that I admitted something like that.

“What do you mean more to you?” She questioned. I shrugged, staring up at her, maybe admitting to myself that this was something more to me than a hookup.  

“What if I’m getting into my own head? Thinking this is more than what it really is.” It was embarrassing to admit that maybe this is something more to me. Especially to someone like Mary who wanted me to end things with Adam the second we started dating.

“How do you feel about Negan?” She sincerely asked. I shrugged again, almost feeling like a teen talking about their feelings. Maybe I was one, confused and hormonal. 

“He’s just… Negan.” I explained, trying to find the right words to explain a man like him. “He’s charming, and he makes me feel amazing.” I smiled, thinking back to those very exciting times with him.

“It’s obvious you got something there for him.” Mary smiled. But i shook my head, sitting up straighter.

“Look, me and Adam already spent so much money on this wedding and I can’t just leave him after a few good fucks.” I rushed, grabbing my phone. Before I knew it my thumbs were typing out a message, basically saying whatever me and Negan had was over and there’s no need to message me again. I almost finished the message before the phone was yanked from my hands. “Hey!”

 “Look, how about we go get some food, maybe sit down, get some food in you and then you think about it a bit more, does that sound good?” I hated when Mary talked to me like a child, but right now, that’s all I really needed. “Maybe let you think about what you really want.” I nodded, a small pout on my face. “Lets go dummy.”

--

I sat there patiently waiting for Mary as she used the bathroom, taking small sips from my drink, looking around the small Qdoba we sat in. I couldn’t even play on my phone since she took it from me, slipping it in her back pocket and didn’t plan on giving it back to me once we finished eating. I was stuck here looking around at the place. 

I knew I was making rash decisions, but the fact was that I’m in over my head. I’m an engaged woman, messing around with a man who was basically twice my age. A man who knew what he was doing and making me feel satisfied at each chance he got. But besides the sexual part, I don’t think this was anything other than that for him. For me… I’m not sure. I’d be stupid to not look at the connection I had with the man, to not see that there was something more than the physical attraction. But maybe that was just in my head, and all there was was physical attraction. With Adam, I’ve been with him for almost 3 years, I loved him enough to say yes to a proposal. Loved him enough to start spending money on a wedding. I couldn’t stop now and end it all while we’re so close. 

“Hey.” Mary smiled, sliding into the booth. I smiled at her, taking another sip from my cup. “Whatcha thinking about?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I’m thinking about.” I huffed, biting down on the straw.

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes with me, “But what are you thinking is the right choice for you.” I shrugged again, leaning back against the booth.

“I think I need to-” I glanced at the door, my eyes widened at who I saw. “What the fuck?” I gasped, watching as Negan opened the door, smiling at a young girl, who looked 18, as she stepped into the building. “Mary.” I whispered harshly, ducking my head down, moving my hand up to cover my face. Mary looked at me with confusion, turning to see what I flipped on but I quickly kicked her shin.

“What the hell?” She groaned, pulling her feet away from me. 

“Don’t be so obvious.” I hissed, glancing back at Negan and the girl. “But look who just came in.” I whispered. I watched as she awkwardly looked at me, awkwardly turning her body like she was going to pop her back. I watched as she glanced over at Negan, a gasp leaving her lips. She twisted back to me, her eyes wide.

“She looks 16.” She hissed at me, “Who is that?”

“I don’t know.” I hissed back. My eyes still glanced over at the two of them. There wasn’t any affection from what I could see. But I could tell from her body language she was flirting. The way she pushed her chest out, making eye-contact with him, touching him at any chance she got. “That can’t be his sister, or any cousins.” I tried to think of every excuse this man could give to who this girl was. 

“She looks like a baby!” I nodded, watching as they waited in line, Negan not bothering to look around the shop. I watched as he smiled down at her, talking with her. Whatever he was saying, was funny enough for her to laugh, lightly slapping his chest. Our food that sat before us was forgotten as we watched Negan and this girl. “Seriously, she looks like she's 16.”

“I think she might be.” I frowned, winching at the thought of Negan being with a minor. I tried to suppress the thought, chills running up at back at the possibility.

“No.” Mary scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t think he’s that much of an idiot to be doing something like that.” I watched as he smiled, a laugh leaving his lips, my heart sinking, my own mind telling me to smash my head against the table as I over thought everything.

“You gotta be kidding me.” I groaned loudly, dropping my head to the table. It was like the universe was wanting to fuck me over today, make sure my life was a living hell. 

“We’re leaving.” She whispered, standing up and going to the condiments bar. I tried not to look back at them, avoiding the two of them as Mary came back with lids for our bowls. I quickly shoved the top on it, grabbing my drink and turning around. I glanced back at Negan and the girl, Negan smiling down at her, laughing at something she said. I watched the way she lightly touched his arm, her hand lingering. “Let’s go.” Mary whispered, tugging me along. I glanced back at Negan and the ‘teen’, the air leaving my lungs as we made eye contact, confusion written on his face before his eyes widened slightly at my confused expression.

I felt like my lungs were ready to collapse. Of course, we weren’t together, yes I was engaged, but I thought there was something there. 

“What the hell was that?” Mary scoffed, still dragging me by the arm towards her car, my mind blank, nothing coming out of my mouth as I tried to process what was going on. “I can’t believe him.” The rant Mary went on was through one ear and out the other as she rambled on, angry for me, and angry that she thought he was a good guy.

“It could’ve been nothing.” I shrugged, still letting Mary drag me to her car.

“Y/N!” Negan’s voice rang through my ears, Mary tugging me harder to her like I was some child.

“Don’t bother, Y/N.” She shook her head, letting go of my wrist as she grabbed her keys. I barely said a word as I climbed into her car, setting my lunch on my lap, buckling myself up without a word. I didn’t even bother looking at Negan as Mary pulled out, driving off without giving Negan a second look.

Through the car ride Mary rambled, angry that she let me get caught up in Negan, angry that she pushed me to get caught up. Angry that she thought this was good for me.

“Look, we don’t know if anything is going on between them.” I shrugged, trying to come up with some excuse, hoping this girl wasn’t a minor. 

“You kidding me?” Mary hit the wheel, shaking her head. “Maybe this is his kink, he likes to fuck with younger woman, probably the only thing that gets him off.” She protested. My heart only cracked more at the thought of the possibility of that. Was he only with me because of my age? Is that really what this all was? And moved on to the next young piece of ass? I shook my head, trying to chase away the thoughts Mary was shoving in my head. 

“Look, maybe this is for the best.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Maybe this is a sign that my fun is over and I just need to focus on the wedding.” Mary slammed on the breaks as she found a spot in my apartment complex, turning to me with a deranged look in her eyes.

“Do you want to be with Adam?” I scoffed, almost offended with the tone she used with me.

“Of course I do.” I shrugged, cracking the lid off my bowl. With a huff, Mary grabbed the bowl, setting it on the dashboard. 

“Y/N.” She snapped, a hum of protest leaving me as I watched her move the bowl closer to her. “Look at me.” Again, I felt like a child, but I did as I was told. “Do you really want to be with Adam, or is being with him the safe option so you don’t go hurting his feelings and not throw away the almost 3 years you have with him?”

I stayed silent, choosing not to answer. When she put it like that… I wasn’t sure. I sighed, dropping my head onto the head rest, all these emotions and feelings going through me, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

“Look,” I started, staring out the window, knowing if I looked at Mary as I said this, I’d only start crying. “Ever since I saw Negan again, he’s all I can think about.” I confessed, my chest tightening as I even thought of his smile. “Being with him has only made things a bit more confusing about what I want. But now…” I sighed again, thinking of the girl he was with. Maybe I was overreacting and the girl was a niece or something, but I don’t remember him mentioning he had siblings, or anything like that. And maybe I was being overly sensitive about it all, since we really weren’t together, what was going on was just for fun. “I don’t know. I just feel like I got broken up with.” I explained. Mary sighed next to me. I saw her move out of the corner of my eye, and then a small weight was placed on my lap. I looked down, my Qdoba bowl resting on my thighs. I chuckled looking up at her.

“Lets eat before this shit gets gross.” She laughed.

---

We sat in the kitchen, sipping on beers as Mary let me think things over, trying to decide what I really was going to do.

“Okay, so on one hand you break things off with Negan, marry Adam and have a loveless marriage.”

“Mary.” I warned, she held her hands up, rolling her eyes with a wink at the end.

“But on the other hand, you break things off with Negan AND Adam and you become single again where we can go back out again and find someone else for the both of us?” She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “One is looking like the better option here, and I think we both know which one it is.” I only shook my head as I took a sip. My phone vibrated against the counter, the name ‘Negan’ popping up. I froze in my spot, looking up at Mary. She stared wide eyed at the phone, looking back at me. “When’s Adam gonna be home?” She questioned. I glanced at the clock on the oven, 5:30.

“In about 30 minutes.” I mumbled, the buzzing stopping. I stared at Mary, a simple shrug was all I got from her. She went to open her mouth before my phone started buzzing again. Negan’s name back on the screen. I watched as her face scrunched up. “I’m not going to answer.” I huffed, setting down my beer, crossing my arms. Mary nodded, leaning back in her chair as we watched the phone buzz until it finally stopped. I tried to think of the reasons why he would call me, especially twice in a row. Was it to apologize with what happened today? Explain what was actually going on? It’s not like he should, we weren’t together and there was no need to for him to apologize, but I felt like I needed one. 

“Anyway, I think you need to be single again where we can go back out and mess around.” Mary went on, talking about how I can move in with her when I broke up with Adam, we can go back out drinking every night like we used to and go crazy again. 

“Mary, I didn’t say I was going to break up with him.” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “I still need to figure things out.” I waved a hand. “It’s not like I can just break up with him and not be stuck with cancelling everything we already have for the wedding.” I explained. I tried to think about what I really wanted, whether it be with Adam and make things work, or be it by myself with Mary in her apartment. I took a deep breath, staring down at my phone, the screening lighting up with a text.

“Is that Negan?” Mary mumbled against the rim of the beer, tilting it back and downing the rest. I nodded, grabbing the phone and swiping on the message.

“‘Can we talk?’” I read outloud. The small text bubble came back up, the three dots blinking at me as he typed. My jaw dropped at the next text that popped up, Mary sitting up straighter at my expression. “‘I know you saw us, I want to explain.’” I looked up at her, jaw still dropped as she tried to think of something, anything to say. “What do I say?” I panicked, looking back at the messages. “Do I leave him on read? Or do I end it now.” Mary didn’t say a word as she grabbed the phone from me, her thumbs working quickly. I sat there, wondering what she was saying, as she typed, deleted some, typed again, and repeated her whole process until she stopped, reading over what she typed. “What does it say?” I asked, she handed me the phone, as I carefully grabbed it, making sure I didn’t touch the screen and accidentally sent the message.

‘There’s no need to explain. If there was someone else, you should’ve told me. Hope it works out for you two.’

“Really?” My nose scrunched at the text, it sounded very passive aggressive.

“You don’t want him thinking that he can walk all over you, right?” She defended the text. “If he thinks you’re okay with him seeing someone else while you guys mess around, then he’ll keep walking over you.” She smiled.

“Mary,” I sighed, setting the phone down, “I’m literally engaged and I’m messing around with him. I’d be a hypocrite to tell him he should only see me.” I grabbed the phone again, deleting the message before typing my own out. “How does, ‘I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself.’ sound?” Mary shrugged, shaking her head. 

“What do you want him to say? Like do you want it to be that he was messing around with some younger girl or do you want it where he wasn’t?” 

“What kind of question is that?” I huffed, slamming my phone on the table, a little harder than I would’ve liked.

“Look,” She started, elbows on the table, “If he says it was nothing and there’s nothing going on, then you go right back to him.” I nodded, listening to her reasoning. “But if he tells you that there was something going on, then that means you walk away and you have your answer.” I thought for a moment, looking down at the unsent message. I quickly deleted the message, swiping and setting his messages on ‘do not disturb’. 

“I need to focus on what I have with Adam.” I confidently said, looking up at Mary. She gave me a sad look, I knew she was hoping I’d break things off with both of them, but I knew I couldn’t do that. “This is what I want.” I stated.

But I couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of my head telling me this was the wrong choice.

~~~~~

Tag list

@xojdm-luv  @startwiththeridingcrop @courtneynh @batmanbatmanbatmanbatmans-bitch @lilucifergrl @simam12 @skullag @emmalbg @marihernanadez @cherry-icetea @jamiekingofmen​ @gamingaquarius​ @rosey1981​ @jjwriter23 @negan-morningstar

[unfolded73]

My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (1/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from "Overkill" by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 5278 words. (ao3)

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

Chapter 1

Patrick drifted into wakefulness like rising from a deep dive to the surface of the water. He became aware first, before even opening his eyes, of David’s arm over his chest and his hand curled protectively around the side of his ribcage. The sheets were soft against his skin and the duvet was a comforting weight over his body and he never wanted to move from this spot. Patrick lifted his own hand and dropped it clumsily over David’s, calloused fingertips tracing gently over David’s knuckles.

“Good morning,” David said in a surprisingly coherent voice for first thing in the morning.

Opening his eyes to see David watching him was an unusual experience. As he blinked sleep out of his eyes, Patrick tried to remember if David had ever woken up before him, and the only occasion he could summon to mind was New Year’s Day, after a night when Patrick had gotten much drunker than David had.

“Why are you awake so early?” Patrick yawned.

David shrugged. “It’s almost eight o’clock; you’re just sleeping later than usual.”

Groaning, Patrick started to sit up. The very energetic sex they’d indulged in last night must’ve really worn him out. “We’ve gotta get up and get started on those vendor pickups.” It was Monday and the store was closed, but they had so many pickups to do this week that they’d grudgingly agreed to do them on their day off, splitting the list in half.

“Mmm, five more minutes,” David said, holding Patrick down with the arm across his chest and shifting closer, their naked bodies coming into closer contact. Patrick closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate that David hadn’t gotten up to put on pajamas last night, his usual routine even now that Patrick had his own apartment. Patrick was starting to suspect that he could read David’s lack of clothes the next morning as a particularly positive review on his performance in bed the night before.

“What are you smiling about?” David asked.

“Last night,” Patrick responded without opening his eyes. They really needed to get up, he thought, but lazing around in bed with David was very tempting.

David made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that was, um…” He nuzzled against Patrick’s shoulder. “If that’s what happens after you go on a date with someone else, I’m almost inclined to tell you to do it again.”

Patrick bristled at that. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry,” David whispered, pressing a supplicating kiss against Patrick’s arm.

“Besides, I bailed partway through the date,” Patrick said.

“Mm. Poor Ken,” David said. “He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”

Patrick frowned, turning onto his side and dislodging David from his chest. “You didn’t expect me to sleep with Ken, did you?”

David opened and closed his mouth. “Not sleep with, no.”

The same queasiness that Patrick had felt last night as he drove to meet Ken rose up in his stomach. “Then, what? A quick handjob in my car?”

David shot him a guilty look. “No,” he said, but then bit his lip. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe something like that. Something that you’ve only experienced with me that you might be… curious about experiencing with another man.”

Patrick sighed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not particularly curious about experiencing stuff like that with other men.”

“Yeah, you said—”

“And if I do become curious, or… or want to … explore with another guy in the future, you and I are going to have to be a lot clearer with each other about what is and isn’t going to happen.”

“Ground rules,” David grumbled.

“Yeah, I guess.” Patrick leaned over and kissed him. “But, David.” He kissed him again. “It’s so good with you. I sort of can’t imagine anyone else not being a huge step down in quality.”

He watched David’s face go on a journey before settling on pleased. “That’s very flattering. But sometimes the point is that it’s a stranger. Or at least, someone you aren’t going to see again.”

Patrick pulled back. “Is that something you want?”

David rolled his eyes, dismissing that idea with a flap of his hand as he looked up at the ceiling. “God no. I had a lifetime’s worth of casual sex.”

Reaching out, Patrick put his hand on David’s cheek, turning his head so that they were looking at each other again. David’s face softened, his eyes gazing into Patrick’s in the way that always made his stomach swoop. Made Patrick want to sink into David’s arms and never let go. “And if that ever changes, will you tell me?”

There was a pause, and then David nodded. “Of course. Will you tell me? If you change your mind?”

Patrick nodded. “I promise.” And then he pulled David closer, kissing him deeper and with more tongue than was probably warranted given their morning breath. For once, David didn’t complain.

After a minute, Patrick had to wrench his mouth away and force himself to sit up. “Okay, if we don’t get up now, I’m going to end up fucking you again.”

David smirked. “What’s so wrong with that?” And then he wiggled his hips and his expression became more thoughtful. “Although I’m still feeling what you did to me last night.”

Patrick winced. They had gone at it pretty hard, he remembered with a mixture of desire and guilt. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” David said. “It was perfect and don’t you dare apologize. Just not sure if I can get fucked again right at this precise moment.”

Patrick whipped the covers off and stood up, ignoring his own visible arousal. “You aren’t going to be. You’re gonna get ready to do the pickups west of town.”

David whined and stuck his bottom lip out. Patrick turned away from him and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor before he was tempted to bite David’s lip, because that way did not lead toward getting their vendor pickups done. “Can you make us some breakfast while I shower?” Patrick called over his shoulder. David’s “ugh fine” reached his ears just as he was closing the bathroom door.

Once he had showered and shaved, Patrick emerged back into the apartment, a towel around his waist. David had pulled on a sweatshirt and drawstring shorts and was in the kitchen making Patrick’s tea. The domesticity of it made something tender and fragile swell in his chest. He loved having David here in his apartment, and he felt a wild desire to just ask David to move in, his resolution to take his time with that step in their relationship be damned. In moments like this, his original idea that he wanted to spend some time living on his own seemed silly. As he pulled on underwear and jeans (glancing over his shoulder to catch David checking out his ass), a t-shirt and a v-neck sweater, he imagined it — David’s clothes in his closet (well, some of them), David’s shoes by the door, his journal on the nightstand, his products finding a permanent home in Patrick’s bathroom rather than lugged back and forth between the motel and the apartment in David’s bag.

“Your mom is texting.”

Startled, Patrick looked over to David, who was pointing at Patrick’s phone on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna shower,” David continued, unaware of the track of Patrick’s thoughts. “Here’s your tea and some toast.”

Patrick walked over and picked up his phone in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.

Mom: Can you call when you get a chance?

Oh yeah, the other reason he wasn’t ready to ask David to move in yet, he thought with a surge of shame. His parents.

Figuring David would be in the bathroom for a while yet, Patrick unlocked his phone and placed the requested call.

“Hi, sweetheart!” his mother said in a chipper voice.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, we were just having breakfast and realizing that we hadn’t heard from you in a while. How are things with you?”

Patrick looked at the closed bathroom door, and then moved over to the other side of the apartment. “Things are good. I’ve got vendor pickups to do today.”

“You work so hard, dear. I hope you are taking some time for yourself too.”

“I am.” He thought about dates with David, or curling up on the bed and watching movies with David, none of which he was ready to talk to his mother about. He knew it was time. It was way past time, but he could never get the words to come out when he was on the phone with his parents. “I went two for four in my last game,” he said. Baseball was always a safe topic.

“That’s great!” his mother said, the enthusiasm she’d always shown for his athletic activities obvious in her voice. “I bet they’re glad to have you on the team.”

“Uh huh. It’s a fun team.” He thought about how easy it was to be out of the closet around them — mentioning his boyfriend as the team drank beers together at the Wobbly Elm after practice, or kissing David after games when he came to watch. It was nice. He wanted that same ease with his family, to be able to mention David in passing as more than just his business partner. He ran a finger along the top of the framed picture on his desk, of him and David on Christmas Eve last year, arms around each other at the Roses’ party. Patrick had a hard time taking his eyes off of David in that photo sometimes, radiant in a silver sweater under the warm Christmas lights.

“Well,” she said, like she was hoping for him to say something else. After a pause in which he didn’t, his mother continued, “I should let you get on with your day.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, guilt churning in his stomach yet again at the fact that he couldn’t just be fucking honest with this mother. That the life he shared with his parents was more gaps than substance. “I’ll call again when I have more time to talk.”

“Okay,” she said, the happiness gone from her voice. He’d done that with his evasiveness, Patrick thought. He’d made his mother sad. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

~*~

David pulled up in front of the store in the Lincoln and pushed on the heavy driver’s door with a grunt. He stood up, his sweatshirt sticking to the small of his back with sweat. The vinyl seats were one of things he hated most about that car, and he hated a lot of things about it. He wasn’t that fond of Patrick’s car either, but at least it had slightly more comfortable seats. In any case, their divided errands had made borrowing Patrick’s car impossible, so he was stuck with the Lincoln.

He unlocked the door to the store and ducked his head in. “Patrick?” he called. Patrick’s car wasn’t out front, but it was possible he’d pulled around to the back to unload. When no one answered, David pulled out his phone and sent off a text: How close are you to getting back? There was no answer, so David assumed Patrick was driving. He opened his text chain with Stevie and texted, Can you come help me at the store for a minute?

Stevie: I’m busy working.

David: You’re not that busy if you’re texting me back.

She didn’t answer. “Fuck,” David whined to no one, resigning himself to having to unload the entire car by himself. This was why splitting up the vendor pickups had been a terrible idea, he thought as he muscled a crate of honey out of the trunk. Now here he was, all alone with very heavy things to carry.

By the time he had all of the new merchandise stacked in the back room, he was drenched with sweat and there was still no sign of Patrick. Well, just for that, he wasn’t going to wait around, David thought churlishly as he locked up and got back in the car. He was going to go take a shower at the motel and Patrick could unload by himself too.

He briefly considered going to Patrick’s apartment to shower; his water pressure was better and David had a couple of changes of clothes there. Plus, he had a key, and Patrick had said that he was welcome to come and go as he pleased. But he also knew that living alone was something that Patrick wanted — it was something he’d never had before, he’d admitted to David on the day he’d signed the lease. He’d gone from his parents’ house to a dorm to apartments with a series of roommates to living with Rachel to rooming with Ray. He’d never had his own place. David understood that and he wanted Patrick to have what he needed, not have David unexpectedly underfoot when he perhaps wasn’t welcome. Still, it didn’t stop his heart from aching a little bit. He wanted to live with Patrick, he’d realized. He had been ready to take that step and Patrick hadn’t been. It stung.

Alexis was doing something on the laptop computer at her little desk when David walked into their shared room, and she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.

“Ugh, David, what happened to you?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, he dropped his bag on the bed. “I was working. What are you talking about?”

“You’re all gross and sweaty,” she replied.

“It’s hot out today, and I had to do a bunch of vendor pickups in that boat of a car and then unload everything into the store by myself because Patrick’s not back yet,” he complained. He collected a change of clothes and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him to punctuate how tough his day had been. Okay, he’d been able to sample some of the new butter cookies that Mrs. Franklin sold through their store, and maybe she’d also given him a glass of lemonade, but still.

After a shower, David felt worlds better, although there was still no reply from Patrick to his text.

“What is taking him so long to get back?” David muttered as he dug through his cedar chest. The sweater he was looking for didn’t appear to be in there, another annoyance in a day of annoyances.

“What’s the matter?” Alexis asked.

David waved at her, his hand flapping at the end of his wrist. “Patrick’s just taking forever to finish his vendor pickups,” he said, trying to ignore the worry beginning to gnaw in his stomach. “It’s fine.”

“I hope you had a talk last night, David,” Alexis said, her eyes not coming up from her laptop. “No more fooling around with anyone outside the relationship until you’ve established some ground rules.”

David whipped around and glared at her. “Can you let that go, please? We’re fine.”

“No thanks to you,” she said.

He suppressed a squawk. “We had a healthy talk about it this morning. We’re fine.”

“Good,” Alexis said.

“Also the sex last night was very hot—”

“David, ew.” She stuck her tongue out. “Don’t tell me that.” But then she sort of half-smiled at him. “I’m glad you guys are okay.”

David smiled back. He was glad too. “He makes me…” David started to say, then thought better of being so vulnerable in front of his sister. But what the hell; she’d been there for him last night when he needed someone. He moved over to his bed and sat down to put on his shoes. “He makes me feel safe. No one’s ever… I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel safe before.”

Alexis, to her credit, didn’t make fun of him, although the squinty smile she gave him made him recoil, grimacing.

“Kids!” his dad called as he barged into the room. “We’re headed over to the café for dinner. Do you want to join us?”

Alexis shook her head. “I’m going over to Ted’s for dinner.”

David picked up his phone and sent another text to Patrick. Are you still not back yet? And then he stared at the screen, waiting to see dots to indicate Patrick was texting back, or at least to see a read receipt. The ball of worry in his stomach grew a little bit bigger.

“David, do you want to come with your mother and me?” Johnny asked.

“I was supposed to eat at Patrick’s,” he said. “But maybe. I don’t know.” He switched apps and called Patrick’s phone, holding it to his ear and listening to it ring and ring and ring. With every ring, he felt his breathing rate tick up.

“Well, we’re going now, so I need you to decide,” Johnny said irritably.

David slapped his phone down on the bedspread and threw his hands up. “Then go without me; it’s fine!”

“David, I’m not going to wait around for a second evening that I’m supposed to spend with Ted while you have another meltdown about—”

“No one’s having a meltdown!” David shouted. “I just don’t know where my boyfriend is!” He looked at the time, feeling queasy. His previous annoyance was gone and now he was just worried. Patrick really should have been back hours ago. He tried calling again.

“David, you need to be a little bit less clingy—” Alexis said.

“Okay, well, we’re going to go,” Johnny said. “You can join us later, if…”

David’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he saw he had a call from an unknown number coming in as he tried to call Patrick. Maybe Patrick’s phone had died and he was calling from someone else’s phone, he thought as he clicked to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this David Rose?” asked a woman in a sharp, business-like tone of voice.

“Yes, who is this?” he snapped.

“This is Cheryl calling from Elmdale Hospital. We’ve got a Patrick Brewer here and he gave us your number as his emergency contact.”

“Oh, God.” There was a rushing noise in his ears and his mouth tasted like bile as he tried to shape it into making useful words. “What happened to him? Is he okay?” David clutched the edge of his bed, feeling dizzy, heart racing.

“There was a car accident and he was brought in by ambulance a little while ago. He’s having some tests done, but I can’t disclose any information about his health to you over the phone. If you come to the hospital—”

David hung up. He imagined Patrick’s car, the car he’d ridden in countless times on their way to movie dates or dinner, speeding through the countryside as Mariah Carey or one of Patrick’s alt-folk bands blasted out of the shitty speakers. Patrick’s car, mangled on a deserted road somewhere, no one around for miles. How long did it take before an ambulance came? How long was he lying there alone, broken and injured by the side of the road?

“David, you’ve gone very pale,” Alexis said.

“Is Patrick all right?” Johnny asked as Moira wandered in.

“John, I’m a bit peckish,” she said. “Are we leaving soon?”

“Patrick was in a car accident,” David said. Everyone’s voices sounded muffled to his ears, even his own. “I need to go to the hospital.” He stood up and looked around for the keys. He didn’t think he’d returned them to his father’s stupid little hook in the other room. Where were they?

There was a flurry of activity and then Alexis was at his side. “I’ll drive.”

David ignored her. He didn’t have time to think about Alexis right now. Where were the fucking keys?

Alexis held up her hand. “I have the keys and I’m driving,” she said, and David spared a moment to be confused about what he’d just thought to himself and what he’d said out loud. “You’re shaking,” she said pointedly. “Put your shoes on and let’s go.”

“Is he all right, David?” his mother asked as David sat back down on the bed and reached for his shoes. His fingers felt numb and clumsy.

“I don’t know.”

He looked up to see his parents exchange a nervous glance.

“I mean, they said they were doing tests. They wouldn’t say that if he was, like…” Dead, his brain supplied, but the word wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“Shall we accompany you to the hospital, my darling?” Moira asked, grimacing, clearly regretting making the offer even as she did so.

“Nope,” Alexis said, shooing them back into their room. “No need for that. We’ll call you as soon as we know something,” she said firmly. When Alexis used that voice, people often had a hard time arguing, and their parents were no exception this time.

David tied his shoes awkwardly, the bows kind of a mess. Patrick had made fun of him one time about the precise way he tied his shoes. Patrick, who was lying in a hospital bed, injured, alone…

“Come on, David,” Alexis said, taking his arm firmly but kindly. “Have you got your wallet and phone?” He patted his pockets and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

It was normally a forty minute drive to Elmdale, lots of time for David to imagine every possible horrible scenario. Maybe Patrick was in a coma, and would wake up having forgotten who David was, or even that he liked men. Maybe he would be paralyzed. Maybe his face would be horribly scarred. David would love him anyway, he thought, even if he’d been disfigured. All that mattered was that he came through this alive.

“I’m sure he’s okay, David,” Alexis said as if she could hear what was going on inside his head. She needed to stop doing that. It was creepy.

“You don’t know that.”

“His car is boring and probably has airbags and, like, crumple zones or whatever,” she said. “I bet he’s just got a little bonk on the head. The tests are probably just a precaution.”

He sighed, playing out that much more comforting fantasy in his head instead of his dark ones. Patrick would just stroll out of an examining room and David would hug him tight and take him home and everything would be fine.

They arrived at the hospital in only thirty-two minutes, thanks to Alexis’s speedy driving.

He identified himself at the front desk, and the receptionist or whatever she was told him to wait. David inhaled a breath, ready to argue, but Alexis was thanking the woman and dragging him over to the rows of chairs before he could get another word out. His sister perched on one of the plastic chairs and pulled out her phone while David paced back and forth in front of her. Now that they were here, he really just wanted to tear the place apart until he could see Patrick for himself. And hold his hand; he was sure that whatever had happened, Patrick would feel better if David could hold his hand.

“David Rose?” A woman in a white coat stood next to the door that led to the rest of the hospital. He rushed over.

“I’m David Rose,” he said, breathless.

“You’re Patrick Brewer’s…” She consulted the chart she was holding.

“Partner. Can you please tell me what happened? Is he okay?” He could sense Alexis behind him, hovering.

“Well, he got banged up pretty good. Compound fracture of the radius and fracture of the ulna, two cracked ribs, and a concussion. The police said a truck ran a stoplight and hit his car broadside.”

David thought it was wildly inappropriate that she would expect him to remember what bones were named at a time like this. “The radius is…?”

She gestured to her forearm. “Arm bones. As is often the case with this sort of impact injury, both bones in the forearm were broken.”

Wincing, David asked, “Can I see him, please?”

“Not yet; he was taken into surgery a little while ago to stabilize the arm. It has to be operated on right away because there’s a risk of infection when the bone is exposed.”

The next thing David was aware of was Alexis guiding him down into a chair. “Okay, just lean over and put your head between your knees,” she said while David tried to figure out why his vision was narrowing. He felt sweaty. Alexis disappeared for a minute, but he could hear her voice, off to the left somewhere. Also that doctor, the one who said Patrick’s arm was…

David fought the urge to throw up. It would be embarrassing to hurl all over the floor in the waiting room of Elmdale Hospital.

Finally Alexis was back. “Are you gonna pass out?”

“No. I don’t think so.” He lifted his head. “What did she say after the thing about his…”

“Bone sticking out?” Alexis asked unhelpfully. David put his head in his hands. “That they did a CT scan prior to surgery and that he was alert but concussed. You’ll be able to see him once he wakes up from the anesthesia. And they’ll have a better idea tomorrow how long he’ll need to be in the hospital.” She rubbed his back. “Do you want me to get you a cup of tea?”

David nodded. “I can’t believe this happened. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get my hands on the driver of that truck,” Alexis said fiercely, and David couldn’t help but agree. He wasn’t a violent person, as a rule, but he’d make an exception just this once. Or he’d let Alexis have at him.

“He’s gonna be okay, though, right?” David asked, not liking the pleading edge in his voice.

Alexis was still rubbing his back, and she pressed her cheek against his arm for a second. “He’s gonna be okay, David.”

He startled, a thought occurring to him suddenly, and he fumbled for his phone. “I need to call his parents.”

“You have his parents’ phone number?” Alexis asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never called them, but I was starting to think about…” He sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell Alexis about this until much closer to the event. “Patrick’s birthday is coming up in a few months and I was thinking about inviting his parents to a surprise party,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

“David, that’s so cute,” she said with a pout.

“So I managed to use Patrick’s thumbprint to unlock his phone when he was dead asleep one night and I put their numbers into my phone in preparation for inviting them,” he said as he scrolled through his contacts. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad; they can’t keep a secret,” he said as he pressed the button to call Marcy Brewer.

He’d only spoken to Patrick’s mother a couple of times, when she’d called the store after being unable to reach Patrick on his mobile phone. He’d handed the phone over to Patrick quickly after some brief pleasantries, but he’d gotten the impression of a friendly woman. Just the sort of person he’d expect to have raised Patrick Brewer.

“Hello,” came the maternal voice down the phone line as Alexis stood up, flopping her wrists towards her mouth. When he shook his head in confusion at her, she stuck out her pinky, miming sipping, before walking away. Right, she was going to get tea.

“Hi, Mrs. Brewer, this is David Rose calling.”

“Oh, David! How are you?”

“Um, well, not great. I’m sorry to have to call you like this, and let me start by saying Patrick is going to be fine…”

“Oh, dear. This is like the phone calls I used to get from his coaches,” she said, sounding surprisingly calm. “What happened?”

“He was in a car accident this afternoon and he’s in the hospital.” David felt tears pressing behind his eyes, and he ruthlessly swallowed them down. “I haven’t been able to see him yet, but they said his arm is broken. Also some ribs.” He decided to stop there, if for no other reason than he didn’t think he could go into more detail without needing to put his head between his knees again.

“Oh, my sweet Patrick,” Marcy gasped, sounding much less calm. “Why haven’t you been able to see him?”

“They’re… um… operating on his arm.” He braced his elbows on his knees. “It was a bad fracture.”

“Okay,” she said, back to sounding calm. “Clint and I will come there. We’ll be there in the morning.”

David wasn’t sure exactly where the Brewers lived, but he thought it was pretty far, and it sounded like she was implying that they would drive all night. “Maybe you should get some rest and leave in the morning?”

“As if I’d be able to sleep tonight, worrying about my boy,” she said. “He’s all alone there,” she said.

Frowning, David said, “I’ll be here. And my sister Alexis is here.” He wondered why she’d put it that way. Surely she didn’t think David would leave the hospital tonight, did she?

“That’s very sweet of you, David,” Marcy said. “I’ll let you know when we get into town, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” David said, off-kilter from the conversation. His eyes fixed on a stack of pamphlets on the table next to him, where a smiling woman was entirely too happy about routine colonoscopies. “It’s Elmdale Hospital,” he told Marcy.

“Thanks, David. If you see Patrick tonight, please let him know we’re on our way.”

When a nurse finally came to tell them that Patrick was out of recovery, Alexis had fallen asleep across his lap and David had read the entire pamphlet about colonoscopies (and all of the other pamphlets within reach) front to back. He shook Alexis awake and bolted up from the uncomfortable chair, not looking back to see if Alexis was following.

The first thing he noticed were the cuts on Patrick’s face. They weren’t large; probably not worth mentioning in the context of his other injuries. Just tiny knicks in his forehead and left cheek from bits of glass, David assumed. But tears still welled up in David’s eyes when he saw those angry little cuts. Patrick looked like he was sleeping, his arm bandaged and immobilized within a plastic splint contraption.

“Why don’t they put a cast on his arm?” Alexis asked as David went to sit next to the bed.

The nurse who was fiddling with one of the machines in the room looked up. “They will once they’ve made certain there’s no infection.”

Patrick opened his eyes and his face cracked into a sloppy smile. “It’s David!” he slurred, then he turned to the nurse. “David is my very handsome boyfriend who’s very handsome. See, I told you.”

Alexis snorted, covering her mouth, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“What’s wrong with him?” David asked.

The nurse smiled. “He just came out from under general anesthesia. He’s been talking about you a lot.”

“Flying pretty high, Patrick?” Alexis asked with a smirk. She pulled out her phone and held it up.

“Put that away,” David snapped.

Patrick squinted at her like he couldn’t quite focus on someone that far away. “Hi, Alexis,” he said. “Thanks for coming to visit me in the hospital.” Then his head swung around to David again. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” David said around a lump in his throat. “I was worried about you.”

Patrick’s smile fell. “David?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

Chapter 2

[hope-for-olicity]

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - February 14th, 2020

Happy Friday and HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog. Please reblog and share these awesome writers’ works!

I Saw Him Standing There by @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Felicity is on her own raising baby Mia doing the best that she can when she gets some unexpected surprise guests that change the course of everything. What I would have liked to have seen happen post-crisis. Oliver and Felicity and their entire family deserved better than what they got. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564942

It's a Long Story by @lupin72​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Oliver and Felicity both tell various people the story of some firsts in their relationship. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190649619361/its-a-long-story

Once Upon a Valentine's by @spaztronautwriter​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - strange mix of fluffy and angst https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655040450/once-upon-a-valentines

The Last Words I Could Never Say (Gonna Come Out Anyway) by @lucyyh​ -  Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift -  It takes place in 2008, during the holidays. It’s an AU, mostly fluff with a side of feelings. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655453637/hi-redpensandhoodies-this-is-my-little-gift-for

Love in an Elevator by @jennonthewire - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Another way Oliver and Felicity could have met, involving elevators and mistaken identity. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190656280505/love-in-an-elevator

Dancing Around the Lies We Tell (Convergence) multi-chapter Complete by @allimariexf​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift -  The anonymous hacker who’d been helping Oliver Queen in his mission had first contacted him seven months ago, though “contacted” hardly felt like the right term. He’d arrived at the foundry and booted up his computer one night only to find the entire system had been upgraded, and simple text document saved to the desktop: I’m truly stunned that no one managed to trace the redistribution of Adam Hunt’s funds back to you. No one else, I mean. She certainly had a way with words, and in their months together she’d often surprised him with her uncannily insightful observations. Before he realized it, she had come to haunt his thoughts. Who was she, in her normal life? He was resigned to never knowing. His life was his mission, and there was no room for anything else. Or so he told himself. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593223/chapters/53993044

Helplessly Wrecked multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue​ - A very smart, passionate, woman. Worked to get her dual masters from MIT, it may have taken longer being a mother of triplets but at least she has her mother’s support. Oliver Queen still has a yacht incident and was marooned for shorter time frame on a real deserted island. He never flunked out of his Ivy League schooling and is a very sought-after bachelor. His relationships never last more than half a year and is known to throw himself into his work. His motto ‘work hard plays harder’. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194103/chapters/45628978

Routines by @swiftletinthecloud​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - how a missed routine leads to an awesome meet cute https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190655450823/routines

2315 N. Highbury Ave. multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue​ - Overnight Felicity becomes homeless and she keeps this from Oliver because their friendship is strained and he’s already stressed out enough. Its only a matter of time that some bottled-up feelings will come to the surface. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447388/chapters/51108508

Make it Home (I'm Still Here) by @sparklesannie - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - Wanted hurt/comfort or angst with a happy ending. I’ve never written anything like this so here’s my take on it. I tried to make it close to canon so I did wait until last minute to write this. I added some scenes that I hope you will like and warm your heart as it did mine while I wrote this. https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190646099371/make-it-home-im-still-here

The Untold Truth of the Nutcracker by @green-arrows-of-karamel​ - Goodbye Olicity Exchange gift - An Olicity nutcracker AU - https://olicitysecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/190646923881/dear-sammy-captainsammyangel-when-i-got-my

Type O multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics​ - Being a young Bratva captain, Oliver has had to go above and beyond to prove his worth. Despite some obstacles, he has made quite the name for himself in Starling City. When his life, family and empire are threatened from within, there are only a few people Oliver can truly trust and depend on. His fiery spirited wife, Felicity, is the first person he turns to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888546/chapters/49652453

It's in the Air multi-chapter WIP by @emmilynestill​ - December 23, 2016. It’s Mayor Queen’s first holiday party and love is in the air. No, wait, that’s tension in the air. Bitterness. Regret. Painful longing for one’s former love. Awkward interactions with current significant others. A little humiliation mixed in. Yup, this was one great party. Then the gas came. Maybe love was in the air Afterall. Just my usual lock Oliver and Felicity in a room with a mind-altering substance with a dash of holiday magic thrown in. And, by magic, I mean Sex Pollen. And maybe a little Truth Serum to stir things up. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552481

We Ended as Lovers multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert​ - Three years ago, Felicity’s life was perfect. She was offered a job at two great companies. Her boyfriend just started his own fashion label, and they picked a perfect apartment to live in together. The more heartbroken she was when Oliver got cold feet and it all ended. Now, Felicity is coming back to Starling City, well aware that she is destined to run into her ex-boyfriend there. While old feelings revive quickly, the pain still goes deep. Besides, for some reason Oliver seems to be angry with her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034827/chapters/52587292

Forget Me Not multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics​ - Felicity was presumed dead after The Gambit was shipwrecked and she went missing. As the one year anniversary of her death approaches, a miracle happens and she is found. Just when Oliver thinks the universe has given them a second chance, he learns Felicity barely remembers him and the memories of their love together are gone entirely. Oliver and Felicity’s journey after they reunite prove to be a tough road ahead, and then they learn that Felicity’s accident may have had a more sinister motive behind it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392291/chapters/43556987

If I Tremble - Unravel by @smoaking-greenarrow​ - Felicity finds some new ways to entertain herself in the paradise dimension. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/54222400

Hope multi-chapter Complete by @missyriver​ and victoriaOlicity - Oliver Queen never thought he was the married with children kind of guy. But here he was, married to the love of his life, a son about to graduate, and a three-month-old daughter who had him wrapped around her finger. The road to Hope was a long one, but he never stopped looking, never stopped fighting. https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822968/chapters/24015198

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert​ - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

Faith in You by @starrnobella​ - When Oliver's in danger, there's only one person guaranteed to find him and bring him back home. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686384

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper// @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 // - let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!