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homoose · 3 years ago

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Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (reader)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Y/N hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it.

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.”

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I��m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line.

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.”

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.”

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid.

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together.

Y/N made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers.

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.”

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end.

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.”

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered.

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?”

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom.

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found.

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom.

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Y/N’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen.

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it.

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…”

She adjusted the wand over Y/N’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Y/N’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm.

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Y/N’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more, and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Y/N with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?”

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns.

Two distinct patterns, Y/N realized.

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked.

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?”

She smiled gently as Y/N and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Y/N sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes.

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered.

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed.

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased.

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason.

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason.

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons.

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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johannstutt413 · 4 years ago

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(requested by anonymous)

“Doctor! Come on! Stop dragging your feet!” Nian was pulling at their chair, trying to drag them out of the room with her. “You’re not that busy, are you?”

“I really am, Nian! Let me do my work, please!” They’d gotten to the point of driving their boots’ heel-spikes into the floor, which was why the Nian was having so much trouble.

At this point, Ceobe poked her head into the office. “Doctor smells scared. Why?”

“Oh thank God.” They gestured to the newcomer. “If you want someone to go grab lunch with so badly, take her. She drinks hot sauce by itself; I’m sure she’d love that place.”

“Hmm...Fine, but next time, I’m not letting you off so easy.” She left them to their work, gesturing for the Perro to follow her.

For her part, Ceobe was never one to turn down walkies. “Doctor’s right about the hot sauce. Do you like spicy food, Nian?”

“Spicy food is the only good food there is,” she asserted. “I mean, no offense to the chefs who can’t make it right, but if you aren’t feeling that sweet, sweet inferno on your lips and tongue after you finish a meal, you didn’t eat anything worthwhile...You drink hot sauce?”

“Yeah, it’s really good! I asked Gummy to make it fizzy for me one time, and she did, and it was the best thing ever!”

Nian chuckled. “Fizzy? You mean like a soda?”

“Yeah!” Ceobe’s tail was going off. “You’re smart. I like you!”

“Heh...Well, you seem like a hell of a lot more fun than our stuffy Doctor.”

The Perro cocked her head. “Stuffy? Like a teddy bear?”

“No, more like a...” She thought for a moment. “They work too much, I think.”

“Oh! It would be nice if they gave me more headpats. They give me some, but more is always better - more food, more headpats, more spicy, more more more!”

The Nian nodded. “Exactly! You get it! Man, where have you been the past three hun- where have you been hiding?”

“Hiding?” Ceobe shook her head. “I don’t hide anywhere. I stay with Vulcan, and I go to the cafeteria a lot, and I go for walkies with people when they’re bored or sad.”

“Huh...so you’re a emotional support Perro?”

She nodded vigorously. “Mmhmm! When I’m not smashing bad guys, at least!”

“That’s neat.” Nian gestured to a restaurant a few blocks ahead. “And there’s our stop, right there. Do you like Lungmen food, Ceobe?”

“You can call me Kay! And um...I like food, so yes!”

She chuckled. “Oh, you are an absolute delight. Do you have any money with you?”

“Um...Oh, yeah, I do.” Ceobe rooted around in her pocket, then another pocket, then a third pocket, where she eventually found the wallet Vulcan had gotten her and some of the blue paper they called “money” around Rhodes Island. “I don’t know how many, though.”

“I think it’s ‘how much’ when it’s money, Kay. Here, I can count it for you.” She gave Nian her wallet, and after a brief tally, the Nian confirmed she had enough...A scary amount more than enough, truth be told. Where did she get all that money when she clearly didn’t know what it was worth?

After entering the restaurant and sitting down, the Perro’s tail wagging like a metronome and occasionally brushing against her new best friend sitting next to her, Nian pointed to some squiggles on the paper called a “menu.” “Can you read this?”

“Nope!” The cheerful way Ceobe shook her head when confirming her complete lack of literacy was, admittedly, absolutely adorable. “Can you?”

“Yes, yes I can. Let’s see...You’ll eat just about anything?”

She nodded. “Yep! But not honey biscuits.”

“Really?” Nian took note of that. “You don’t like honey biscuits?”

“No, I love them! Just not all of them. Vulcan makes really good ones, and Mister Matterhorn and Lava do, too. Other people...need practice.”

The Nian was already planning on ambushing her partner in movie-making with this precious Perro; this only gave her more reason to. “Gotcha, gotcha. In that case, how about we share something? There’s this one dish with ghost peppers I can’t get enough of.”

“Okay!” Ceobe blinked. “Nian, what’s a ghost pepper? And how do you eat it?”

“It’s a really really spicy pepper. Not actually a ghost; that’s a common misconception.”

She nodded, before blinking again. “A miscon-what?”

“Like...a thing people think is true, but isn’t. Sorry, I’ve lived a long time, and I’m not used to talking to you yet.”

“It’s okay! You’re doing a good job so far!” The Perro’s tail continued to wag for a moment, but stopped suddenly as she set her head on Nian’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The sudden shift in Ceobe’s mood threw her for a loop. “What’s okay, Kay?”

“I couldn’t tell when we were walking, but I feel it now. Nian is more scared than Doctor was earlier, and sad, too.”

“I...” She stared at the top of the Perro’s head before starting to pet her, unable to resist the call. “I don’t know if I can explain why to you.”

Ceobe shook her head. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. I am your support Perro, so I’ll be here for you to headpat your worries away. Cardigan said that’s how it works.”

“She’s right about that.” Nian had to admit, she hadn’t once thought about her inevitable demise since she’d left the Doctor’s office with Kay in tow, but it seemed the weight of it was still palpable...How was it that this was the first of her kind she’d met who was so perceptive?

“Good afternoon, Miss Nian.” A server had finally found them. “Ah, I see you have a guest with you today. The usual?”

She nodded. “Yes...Two orders, please. Kay, what do you want to drink?”

“A bottle of hot sauce, please!”

“...You know what? Make it two.” Nian grinned at the server. “I need to know what I’ve been missing out on.”

They bowed, making a note not to trifle with this sandy-haired masochist. “We’ll have those for you right away.”

“Thank you...Hey, Kay? You do know their hot sauce is hotter than the stuff you’re probably used to, right?”

“Oohhhhh.” She shrugged. “I do now!”

The Nian chuckled, shaking her head as she slid an arm around the Perro’s shoulder. “You really are a keeper...Hmm.”

“...That’s what you’re scared of?”

“Hmm?” Nian looked at her again. “What do you mean?”

Ceobe slid off her shoulder to hold her gaze, eye to eye, with a seriousness that was so artificial it would almost be laughable...if it wasn’t so powerful, in the way only someone constantly cheerful can manage. “You’re going to die soon, and you’re scared no one will remember you after you do.”

“...What gives you that idea?”

“I listened to your weapon.” She gestured to the small container she kept her mugging repellant in. “I don’t always understand people, but I can speak Sword just fine. Yours is really weird, very...confused. It doesn’t know what it should look like, but it knows its job, and it shares your worries. One day, you will die, and even I won’t be able to use it, so it wants to keep you alive for as looooong as possible...but you’ve seen your last day, and it’s coming too close, like it always does. You won’t be able to come back and see me, because I’ll be gone, too - the black rocks are growing too fast - but while we’re here, we should enjoy it, right?”

The Nian was speechless for a long moment, simply staring into Ceobe’s eyes. “How?”

“Every weapon has a story, Nian. I like stories.” The Perro reached up and gave her companion a headpat, directly between her horns.

“...After we eat, will you walk with me for awhile?” She wasn’t sure why it felt so good to be headpat by Kay, but she knew how she wanted to return the favor. “If you know that much from my weapon already, I might be able to tell you more, and...and I really want to.”

She smiled. “Sure! I like stories.”

“Me too, Kay. Me too.”

#arknights #nian (arknights)#ceobe (arknights)#...dude why the hell is my Kay like this?#like y'all notice this too right?#it's just so easy to give her this insane insight #admittedly i give it to Red too #but this is...I like it #but i don't understand it entirely #hmm #arknights fic

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patchworkofstars · 5 years ago

Text

I Look At You And I’m Home

Relationship: Remile (Remy (Sleep) Sanders / Dr Emile Picani)

Synopsis: When a bad day at work for Emile derails the couple’s plans for the evening, Remy decides to give him the best possible date night at home!

Word Count: 4,444

Genre: Hurt/Comfort that rapidly turns into pure fluff

Characters: Remy (Sleep) Sanders and Emile Picani, brief mentions of Roman, Virgil, Logan, and Patton

Warnings: Mentions of past insomnia, mentions of a breakup between unnamed characters

Notes: Autistic Emile because I can. Implied autistic Logan because I can do that too. This was supposed to be a short hurt/comfort fic, but then Remy took a small unplanned detour and a whole heap of fluff ensued!

***********************************************************************************************

The sound of the door was his first clue, a soft click followed by a weary sigh. Usually, it would be half-slammed with enthusiasm, and a cheerful cry would ring out of “Remy, I'm home!" or, on special occasions, "I'm back and I brought Starbucks!" But although he strained his ears, he heard nothing more.

“Hi, Em!” he called out, his frown deepening as the silence lengthened. He stretched to see around the side of the sofa, peering over his trademark shades. “Em?” he called again, “Are you okay?” There was only one explanation he could think of for the silence, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

His fears were confirmed a moment later when his boyfriend finally appeared through the doorway from the hall. From the dishevelled state of his hair, it was clear he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. His necktie was loosened and hung at an odd angle, and his shoulders were slumped. A small shake of his head was his only response to Remy's question, and even that motion seemed weary and defeated.

“Babe!” Remy was at his side in an instant. “Hey, girl, are you down for a hug?”

Emile nodded, and Remy wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders, hugging him close. Emile buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in that faint but reassuring aroma of leather, Starbucks, and something uniquely Remy that for him always meant home.

Remy leaned his head against Emile’s, feeling the soft purple hair tickle his cheek. “Sofa?” he suggested, and Emile nodded in reply, clinging on tightly and barely raising his head as the taller man guided him gently over to the couch. There, he finally let his knees give way, and collapsed into the welcoming embrace of both the soft cushions and Remy.

At last, some of his tension began to ebb away, encouraged by Remy’s comforting murmurs of “It’s okay, babe, I’m here”, and “You’re home now, you’re safe, it’s gonna be fine.”

Gradually, his grip on Remy’s shirt relaxed, his white knuckles unfurling until his palms were laid flat against his boyfriend’s chest. He slid them down and around Remy’s waist, hugging him tightly before finally moving back to give him a watery smile.

“Bad day, huh?” Remy asked gently, when experience told him Emile’s voice might be ready to return. “Was it, like, a patient you couldn’t help?” The therapist took most of the stresses and difficulties of his job in his stride, priding himself on finding ways to get even the most reluctant clients to open up. But when his methods failed and he couldn’t help someone in pain, the feelings of not having done enough, or been enough, hit him hard.

Emile nodded, his hand finding one of Remy’s and giving it a squeeze of acknowledgement and thanks.

“So, do you wanna talk about it?”

Emile shook his head. “Can’t. Patient-doctor con… confidentiality.” His words were soft and halting, but determined.

“Oh yeah, that thing. The gossip-killer.” Remy sighed. “Well, could you at least give me, like, an outline? No names, just the part that’s upset you, so I’ll know how to help.”

Emile took a deep breath and released it slowly, considering. Then he nodded. “It was the last session of the day”, he explained. “New patients for couple’s therapy, a man and a woman. The guy was a bit quiet, withdrawn, but that's the way it goes sometimes. I told him no pressure, he could speak when he felt ready to.”

“And I’m guessing he did?”

“Did he ever”, Emile mumbled, scraping both hands through his hair and grimacing. “Halfway through the session he suddenly leapt up, like he couldn't keep it in anymore. He said, ‘I'm sorry, I'm gay. I'm in love with a guy from work.'"

“Damn, girl, that sucks”, Remy murmured sympathetically. “Did the woman yell at him? I bet she yelled.”

Emile took another deep breath and buried his face in his hands before continuing. “Yeah, she did. At him and at me. And she was so loud...” He shuddered at the memory, pulling his cardigan sleeves over his hands and pressing them to his ears.

“That’s rough, babe.” Remy rubbed his boyfriend’s back soothingly.

"Comes with the job, sometimes", Emile mumbled. He sighed, pushing his sleeves back up so he could rub his face with his palms. "I didn't like it, but I understand how she felt. All that time together and it was never real. Two words and it all came crashing down!" He looked despairing at Remy, his face wet with silent tears. “It got me thinking, what if that happens to us?”

Remy took his hand, expression serious, and looked him in the eyes. “Babe”, he said, “I’m gay. I’m in love with a man, and his name is Emile Picani.”

Emile made sound between a giggle and a sob, taking back his hand to swat Remy gently with sweater– or rather cardigan-paws before nestling against him once more. I just got scared, that’s all”, he explained softly, his eyes tracing the geometric pattern of the frieze running around the walls of the room.

He closed his eyes, the pattern suddenly becoming too much. Reaching out blindly, he found Remy’s hand once more and curled his fingers around it, brushing his thumb over the familiar shapes and textures.

“I got scared, Rem”, he repeated in a murmur. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d keep on shining like the gem you are”, Remy told him, his voice low but firm. “But I’m not going anywhere, babe, this fusion is stable. The real question is what I’d do without you to lure me into bed each night with cuddles, and out of it each morning with breakfast.”

At last, Emile's lips overcame the tears to curve into a smile, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. “It's for everyone to eat together, that's the essence of together breakfast", he quoted, looking up to meet Remy’s eyes.

“You’re darn right it is, babe! And it’s, like, a billion times better than the caffeine I used to live on.”

Emile gave a lopsided grin, reaching up to ruffle Remy's dark hair. "Seems to me you still live mostly on caffeine", he teased.

Remy stuck his tongue out. “Sure, but now I have, like, actual meals too, because I get to look at a gorgeous guy while I eat. Speaking of, what do you wanna do about food tonight?”

He glanced across at the calendar on the wall and Emile followed his gaze, knowing what he was thinking. From this distance, it was too small to read, but they both knew what was written in today's square: "Date Night!" in Remy's bold handwriting with a heart drawn around it by Emile, a reminder they scarcely needed of their regular evening devoted to each other's company.

They usually went out on date nights, to see the latest animated movie, or to eat at their favourite restaurant, or sometimes even for a gaming session at the local arcade. But there was no way Emile could cope with that tonight. After the emotional meltdown he’d endured, his heart and his nerves would need more time to recover before he’d have the strength to face the outside world.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I know you were looking forward to the movie, and it will have stopped showing by next time.” He forced a smile at Remy. “You go without me. I’ll make a hot chocolate and watch a couple of episodes of Ducktales, then have an early night.”

“Hell no!” Remy shook his head firmly. “You think I wanna see a movie without you, babe? We can wait and watch it together on Netflix. I am not-” - he reached out and booped Emile’s nose to punctuate his statement - “Not leaving my Em all alone after a shitty day at work. Would David ditch Nani for a movie? I think not.”

“You’re darn right he wouldn’t!” Emile’s face relaxed into a grin and he leaned his head on Remy’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around him. “I guess they’d make the best of it and find a way to have a fun date night at home.”

“Mm-hm”, Remy agreed, pressing a kiss to Emile’s purple hair. “Then that’s what we’re gonna do. Tell you what, babe, you go change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. Gimme five minutes to set up, and we’ll make this the best date night ever.”

Emile gave him a tight squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed to their bedroom to find his favourite comfort clothes. As soon as he was out of sight, Remy set to work transforming their mundane living room into a cosy and intimate venue for a date.

If there was one thing Remy excelled at, it was turning anywhere into a comfortable place to nap. When Emile returned, wearing an oversize Steven Universe hoodie and his softest sweatpants, he was greeted by a magnificent pillow fort, large enough to house them both while still feeling snug and secure.

The sofa and chair cushions had been upended and stacked to provide a structure over which almost every spare blanket in the house had been artfully draped. The remaining few covered the floor inside, with a comforter spread on top to give the couple a place to sit or lie as they chose. At one end stood the cornerstone of the fort, the sturdy back of their sofa, positioned to provide a leaning place as well as the main support.

“How did you do all this so quickly?!” Emile exclaimed, flapping the dangling sleeves of his hoodie.

Remy shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “Babe, when you have brothers like Roman and Virgil, you get a lot of practice building dens! We were always making castles, or caves for dragons, or just places to hide from everything.”

Emile laughed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “You’re so talented!” he joked, rubbing their noses together. “Coffee connoisseur, fort-construction expert, fashion icon, and cuddler extraordinaire! I hit the jackpot with you.”

“Nah”, Remy murmured, leaning his head against Emile’s. and closing his eyes. “I’m the lucky one. Thanks to you, I’ve figured out what I want to do with my life.”

“Hmm? And what’s that?” Emile asked, letting go to smile questioningly up at him.

Remy turned away, pushing up his ever-present sunglasses as a rare hint of pink coloured his cheeks. "Doesn't matter. Come on, let's get this date night started. Want to sort out some music while I make us drinks?”

“Tell you what, you choose the music and I’ll make the drinks”, Emile suggested. “I know how many marshmallows I want, and that number is all of them!”

Remy rolled his eyes and groaned in mock horror. “Girl, I don’t know how you can stand all that sugar. I don’t even like whipped cream on my Starbies!”

As Emile laughed and turned to head to the kitchen, Remy added under his breath, “And besides, you’re sweet enough already.”

Emile spun back around, his face lighting up with a gleeful grin. “What did you just say?” he asked eagerly.

Remy’s blush deepened. “Nothing. Just go get those drinks”, he mumbled, making shooing motions.

“Hmm~?” Emile leaned closer, a smile teasing his lips as he peered at Remy. “It didn’t sound like nothing. It sounded like my sassy boyfriend said something mushy!”

“If you heard it the first time, there’s no way I’m gonna say it again!” Remy whined, hiding his red face in his hands.

Emile laughed. “Well okay then, but I’m watching ya, sweetheart!”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Remy turned to their music collection to pick a soundtrack to their evening. Steven Universe songs usually helped to lift Emile’s mood, but any playlist including It’s Over, Isn’t It would be a terrible choice this time. Something else, then. Emile had handed the decision over to him, so maybe… His hand hovered over his Queen anthology, then drew back. Tonight was for comforting Emile, not twirling him around the kitchen singing at the tops of their voices. There would be plenty of other evenings for that.

Instead, he settled on something classical, turning the volume to a level they’d be able to hear but could comfortably talk over. Swaying a finger idly along to the opening bars, he closed his eyes and breathed in the mingled aromas of brewing coffee and hot chocolate from the kitchen. He could hear Emile begin humming softly to the music, a sure sign he was already feeling more at peace. A rare softness came over Remy’s face as the sound and the scents combined to fill him with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and love. He hesitated for just a second, debating with himself, then slipped into their bedroom to collect something in case he wanted it later.

When he re-emerged, he found Emile making himself comfortable in the fort alongside a tray containing his own hot chocolate, Remy’s black coffee, and a bowl of sweet and salted popcorn. Remy settled down beside him with a grin, slipping one arm around his boyfriend’s waist as he picked up his drink with the other, breathing in the aroma with a satisfied hum.

The steam clouded his sunglasses, so he took them off and placed them to one side. There was no need for them in here, no bright lights or strangers for them to shield him from. Here there was only Emile, and Remy had no need to hide from him.

Looking back at his boyfriend, he met warm eyes shining gently behind rounded frames. He smiled, letting his gaze wander to take in the fading purple hair, the freckles that scattered and danced across pale skin brightened by a faint pink blush, and the soft lips they’d agreed he wouldn’t kiss directly, but whose touch was a frequent delight on his cheeks, his nose, his temples, his hands.

The familiar soft creases formed around Emile’s eyes as he smiled back, wriggling to get comfortable before leaning back into Remy’s embrace, sipping his hot chocolate through a thick layer of melting marshmallows.

Watching, Remy suppressed a chuckle at the pink and white moustache accumulating on his boyfriend’s upper lip. “Hey, Em?” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble.

“Hmm?” Emile looked around, and Remy gently swiped the residue onto his thumb, then licked it away. “You genuinely are, like, ridiculously sweet”, he told his boyfriend, with a grin.

Emile laughed, a bubbling sound of pure joy that filled Remy’s heart with warmth and light. He gazed adoringly back, wondering how he’d ever worried they might not be the right fit. He would gladly spend an eternity hearing that laugh, seeing that smile, tasting the sweetness of Emile’s presence in his world.

He wrapped his arm around his boyfriend once more and Emile hummed contentedly, leaning against him and resting his head on Remy’s shoulder.

“So, how was your day, sweetheart?” Emile asked. “I sure hope it was better than mine.” For a moment his smile faltered, and Remy gave him a sympathetic squeeze.

"I had a pretty lazy day, tbh. I went to the mall and had lunch at Starbucks, then came home and watched that space documentary your nerd of a brother lent me."

Emile sat up abruptly, beaming. "That's great! Logan will appreciate it. I know he sometimes goes overboard trying to ‘educate' you, but he’s just sharing his special interests because he likes you!"

“Yeaaahhh~", Remy drew out the word, grimacing as he did so. "Well, in that case I guess I'm gonna have to try again, because I fell asleep about ten minutes in." He groaned. "God, he'd better not test me on it. The last thing I want is a pop quiz next time I see him. Like, I get that he means well, but some of us are happy wallowing in our ignorance."

“I know." Emile leaned his head against Remy’s. "But I am proud of you for trying. I think Logan just feels left out sometimes, because you're happy to taste all Patton's new recipe ideas and talk with him and me about cartoons. L thinks real space facts are more interesting than Steven Universe, and it frustrates him that none of us feel the same."

“Yeah, I guess so." Remy stretched his legs out before him, wriggling his toes. Then his lips twisted upwards into a wicked grin. "You know, I'd kinda like to see him face off against Virgil. Logan's Scientific Space Facts (TM) versus Virge's alien conspiracy theories. We should, like, get them talking about it sometime, then sit back and watch the fireworks."

Emile stuck his tongue out at him. “You said that about Logan and Roman, and look what happened! They ended up having a three-hour argument about Shakespeare in iambic pentameter!” He booped Remy’s nose. “You’re an agent of chaos, Remy Sanders. Pure, unstoppable chaos.”

“And gorgeous with it!” Remy smirked. “You love me, babe, admit it.”

“Mm-hm.” Emile wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, kissing his forehead. “You’re right, I do love you. You’re the most entertaining real person I’ve ever met.” He winked. “I hadn’t planned on finding you quite this entertaining, as Rose said to Greg, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Remy murmured, nuzzling Emile’s hair. “It’s been a while, huh, babe?”

Emile smiled, picking up one of Remy’s hands and beginning to trace gentle shapes with his forefinger on the palm. “Mm. I’m glad I stopped by Starbucks on the way home that night.”

“Yeah, me too”, Remy murmured softly. With his free hand, he began idly playing with Emile’s hair. “That was such a crazy night. You probably remember more of it than I do; I was, like, a total wreck back then.”

Emile closed his eyes contentedly. “Maybe, but I still like hearing you tell your side of the story.”

Remy grinned, drinking in the view of Emile’s relaxed smile and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “Sure thing, babe”, he agreed. “So, that night? It was kinda late and the place was practically deserted. I was sitting all alone in a corner, drinking, like, my third espresso because sleeping after dark always gave me nightmares.”

Emile waved an arm, his eyes still closed. “You had a bad case of loneliness”, he said. “You needed more cuddles and cartoons!”

“You know it, babe.” Remy chuckled. “Anyway, there you were, looking like I felt, with your hair a mess and bags under your eyes, but you were still the cutest thing I’d ever seen.”

Emile laughed, his cheeks glowing pink in the soft light. “It had certainly been a tough day. Too many patients who didn’t want cartoon analogies for their problems.”

"Yep! And just like today, your voice had decided it was sick of trouble and was gonna hide from everything. So all you could do was point at the menu and mouth what you wanted to the barista."

“But she didn’t understand.” Emile groaned at the memory. “She got more and more frustrated, and so did I, and then...” He grinned at Remy, an unspoken cue for him to continue.

“Well, I could lip read because of Virgil having the same problem when he gets, like, panic attacks. So I put down my coffee, rocked up to the counter, and said-”

"'Just get the cute gentleman his grande Caramel Cocoa Cluster Frappuccino, with whip. And I'm gonna pay for it because he looks like he deserves a break!'" Emile burst in, blushing brightly and grinning at the memory. "I hadn't even noticed you before that, but when I turned around you looked even more exhausted than I felt."

“Yeah”, Remy smiled wryly at the memory. “Insomnia’s a bitch, babe, and she had her claws deep into me back then.”

Emile reached up and gently kissed his cheek. “I know, and I promise I’ll be here so you don’t have to go through that again.”

Remy interlaced their fingers with a relieved sigh. “You’re an angel, Em.”

Emile smiled wryly. “Not everyone would agree with that. Remember, I’ve been kicked out of three different offices for ‘excessive noise’, ‘disturbing other users of the building’, and inappropriate ukulele playing during a tenants’ meeting’.”

He sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through Remy’s hair. “Face it, starbabe, you’re one of the few people willing to put up with me on a daily basis.”

Remy leaned into his touch, contentedly closing his eyes. “Yeah, we’re both disasters, babe. But I was, like, way more of a disaster before I met you.”

“Likewise”, Emile murmured, kissing his cheek again. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, today or back then.”

“You turned things around pretty quickly, even then”, Remy pointed out. “We kept giving each other awkward smiles the whole wait, and when your drink was finally ready, it just, like, made sense to sit together. And after a few sips of that ridiculously sweet mess, you recovered enough to say thanks, and to... talk with me. We just, like, started chatting, and one thing led to another. I still don’t know how I managed not to scare you off.”

“Gay magic”, Emile suggested, leaning affectionately against him once more.

“Sure.” Remy snorted. “I mean, that would certainly explain how I ended up lying on the sofa, with my head in your lap and you playing with my hair. Because otherwise I have, like, no idea.”

Emile grinned. “Well, magic or not, it was definitely gay! I suggested therapy might help with your insomnia, and you refused because you said if I were your therapist, you wouldn’t be able to date me. And I pointed out that you could always get a different one, but… I think your brain was a bit scrambled by that point, because you put your arm around me and told me firmly that you didn’t want to date another therapist, you only wanted me.” He blushed. “I said you should sleep on it and see if you felt the same way when your head was clearer. So you decided to try to sleep on my lap, which you did.”

Remy nodded, grinning. “It was the best I’d slept in years, and when the barista woke me up trying to tell you it was closing time, I opened my eyes, gazed up at your adorable face, and said, ‘That was amazing, babe, you’ve gotta let me sleep with you again sometime!’”

Emile laughed, his face burning at the memory. “And I said, ‘Only if you take me on a date first’, and then you said-”

“’You’re on, how about Starbucks?’” Remy chuckled. “You asked if we could at least catch a movie first, and I told you sure. And then you got all eager and started telling me about every animated movie that was on, and asking which I’d most like to see. You just, like, lit up with enthusiasm, and I realised then that I was gone. I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing your smile and hearing you talk about the things you love.”

“That’s so pure and cheesy, Rem”, Emile teased affectionately, reaching out to cup his cheek.

Remy leaned into the warmth, closing his eyes. "I guess you have that effect on me, babe", he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s palm. His face was burning, and he wondered if Emile could feel the heat of it.

When Emile moved his hand, Remy slid down to nuzzle his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in the sweet mingled aromas of coffee, marshmallows, and Emile. A scent so similar to the one that night, five years ago, but now it filled his heart with a warmth and contentment he could never have imagined back then.

God, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? The gift in his pocket, which had started out forgettably light, now weighed heavy and constant on his mind. He was going to do this, here, now, tonight. His heart was pounding, his mind scrambling to recall the words he had planned through a giddy haze of nerves and excitement. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, there was a hoarse edge to his voice.

“Emile?”

“Hmm?”

Emile's small noise of response, and his questioning, expectant, utterly intimate expression were enough to conquer Remy's final shreds of hesitance. He was ready. They were ready. It was time.

He kept one arm wrapped loosely around Emile’s waist, while the other reached surreptitiously into his pocket, fingers closing around the small box hidden there. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice light so it wouldn’t betray his nerves.

“You know, babe, I bought something for you earlier. I was gonna wait for, like, the perfect moment, but I guess I’ve realised now that every moment with you is perfect.”

“Sap”, Emile mumbled, grinning as a bright blush spread over his face.

Remy shrugged, giving him a lopsided grin in return. “Yeah, but Olaf was right, some people are worth melting for.” He took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm his racing heart. “I thought this Remy rider could keep on riding alone, but now I just wanna be wherever you are. So...”

He pulled his hand from his pocket, opening the box to reveal a gold ring inlaid with a ruby, a sapphire, and a garnet. He raised his eyes, full of hope and anxiety, to meet his boyfriend’s. “Wanna make this a permanent fusion, Emile?”

Emile’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open with a squeal in the back of his throat that grew in volume and intensity until as last his brain recovered enough to translate his emotions into words.

“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” he yelled, volume control temporarily forgotten in his excitement.

“Uh, yeah”, Remy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I got Roman to help me figure out what to say, although most of his suggestions were Disney references and, like, way over the top.”

Emile shook his head, his eyes shining. “It was perfect, he said firmly, taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger. “Perma-fusion, activate!” He launched himself into Remy’s arms, then added as an afterthought, “Oh, and of course I’ll marry you, too!”

Remy laughed, his face ruby red as he hugged his fiancé tightly. “Yeah, I got that, babe”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s cheek. “And I’ll stick around for good, I promise. Life always tastes sweeter when I’m with you.”

********************************************************************************************

@metaphoricalpluto @the-prince-and-the-emo @musikasworld @softestlittlepuffball @evilmuffin @xxladystarlightxx @suyun-doo @pearls-of-patton @patton-in-name @shesavampirequeen @daring-elm @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

Also gonna tag some people who like Remile:

@coconut-cluster @fiive-second-cookies @gryffindorofcabin21 @lovesupportandcookies @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors @sandersfanders

#remile #remy sanders #sleep sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #sanders shorts #thomas sanders #romantic remile #fluffy fluff <3 #patchwork fic #autistic #autism

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notgonnarememberthis · 6 years ago

Text

Confessions

Hey y’all! This idea came to me a few days ago when binge watching a youtube series about female killers (The youtube channel is literally “Female Killers” if you wanna check it out). The case is actually a combination of two of the videos and the names of the actual women I don’t remember at all. This is set a year after the season 6 finale so they’re back in New York once more as Doherty has been teasing since the finale. One more thing that is also based on real life is the Massachusetts gas explosions which actually happened in Boston last month.

Anyways I missed writing my babies and had to get back to them at least once before exam season hits me like a truck. So enjoy this little oneshot!

Ringing in Joan’s ears pierces the darkness forcing her back into consciousness. Her vision is foggy as she opens her eyes to a distorted world. Fire dances up wallpaper and curtains spreading ash and smoke in its wake. She blinks once, twice trying to get her mind to connect previous events to how she got here.

She and Marcus split from Sherlock to investigate a suspect in the killing of a local millionaire. They were looking into the mistress but the sister said she wasn’t home. The girl allowed them entry anyways before dismissing herself. She heard Marcus shout and then nothing. Her eyes widen with realization.

It was a trap. There was a bomb in the back room and it’d gone off before she could get out. She tries to sit up but a piece of a support beam weighs heavily across her stomach. Pain blossoms in her ribs as she tries to free herself knocking the breath out of her. She leans her head back trying to find anything in her reach that could help.

“Joan!” The shout of her name just barely cuts through the crackling of the fire around her. Marcus made it out. That’s good.

“In here!” She shouts back much to her body’s protest. The door crashes in as Marcus appears. His eyes widen as he finds her stuck.

“Shit.” He mutters, moving quickly to lift and throw the beam off of her. “It’s okay. I got you.” She takes in his form noting that he had a few scratches but looked relatively unharmed. He must’ve gotten out the back door before the explosion went off. “Paramedics are on their way.” He lifts her without hesitation carrying her out of the building.

Her head feels heavy again as they step out into the cloudy daylight. Her entire chest burns with the exertion of simply breathing and she wants nothing more than to sleep.

“Hey.” Marcus calls to her shaking her gently as he sets her on the damp grass. “No sleeping, they’re almost here.”

“Sherlock,” She coughs aggravating her ribs once again.

“I called the captain they’re meeting us at the hospital.” He looks up as sirens draw closer, waving on the paramedics as they pile out of the ambulance.

Vaguely she feels herself being lifted onto a gurney with Marcus in toe. One of the men secure an oxygen mask on her face and that’s the last thing she remembers before everything fades away once again.

The next time she wakes is to Sherlock’s voice and bouncing legs next to her hospital bed. She feels the weight of his hand holding hers. She squeezes his hand lightly pulling his mind from whatever depths it’d plunged into while she was away.

“Joan,” Just her name steals her breath away again. She can count the number of instances he’d called her Joan on one hand. Whenever he did she knew he was more serious than ever before. “You’re awake.”

“Can’t keep me down for long.” She jokes lightly but it doesn’t break the tension in the air.

“I’ll call for the nurse.” He moves to stand but she doesn’t let his hand go. He looks back at her, his face displaying every emotion at once. So few times is Sherlock so open with her. It takes her back a year ago when he tried to say goodbye and leave for London without her. “Watson…”

“I’m okay.” She whispers.

“You encountered a bomb.”

“So did Marcus.”

“Marcus wasn’t trapped. You were.” His voice is so soft she can barely make out the words. There’s so much held in his tone that’s unspoken. She partially wonders if he’ll ever say what he means aloud. Against every instinct in her body wanting to keep him here, with her, she lets him go. His eyes shine with relief that she understood and he leaves her alone once more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Growing accustomed to sedentary life is easier said than done for Joan. In the explosion she’d fractured two ribs again as well as a nasty sprain on her ankle. Between the captain, Bell, and Sherlock they were all making sure she was adhering to her doctor’s orders. Admittedly she pushed the boundaries occasionally but most of the time it was to see how much she could get away with before the others intervened. Though such a method put her in the place of a half an hour long lecture from Sherlock for simply carrying a box of case files to the evidence room.

Moments like this she especially loathed as one of the recommendations was less outings with the police. She was to remain off her feet as much as possible for proper healing leaving her studying cold case files while Sherlock and Marcus investigate their latest case. Clyde keeps her company in her terrarium that Sherlock kindly set up within her reach. He munches quietly on his lunch while she studies mindlessly.

“Watson!” Sherlock announces himself as he steps in from the crisp November afternoon. “I bring sustenance.”

“In here.” She calls. He marches in the room placing the bag on the coffee table before peering over her shoulder at her work.

“You’ll be happy to hear that the Dane sisters have been apprehended as of this morning. It is unlikely that either of them will escape a life sentence.” The Dane sisters, as they discovered, were the millionaire’s mistress and her older sisters. They’d conspired together to murder the millionaire as the mistress discovered she was the main benefactor in her lover’s will. His marriage was a bitter one with no children to part his money to. The bomb was set to rid of evidence, carefully disguised as liking to the series of gas explosions that wracked Massachusetts homes earlier this year. Though between her and Sherlock it wasn’t difficult to unearth enough evidence for conviction.

“Good.” She makes her move to stand frowning slightly when Sherlock rushes to her side to support her. She knows he means well but there are just moments where it is a little overwhelming. “At least we have some good news today.”

Sherlock just purses his lips in a tight smile and nods. He bounces on his toes a few times eyes fixing on every part of the room except her. She raises an eyebrow waiting for him to explain the odd behavior. Finally his eyes land on her and as if someone pressed pause, he stills. “I have a confession.”

“Okay?” Amusement pierces her tone as she studies his features. He’s a bundle of nervous energy and it’s a state she hasn’t seen him in in a far too long time.

“A year ago, when Michael attacked you… Had Hannah not have beaten me to it, quite literally might I add. I would have killed Michael Rowan.”

“Don’t say that to anyone else they just let us start working with the NYPD again a month ago.” She teases but she stops her laugh when she sees how deadly serious he is. Against every instinct that screams in her head she grabs his hand squeezing it lightly. “Hey, I’m okay.”

He nods, eyes glued to their hands. When she tries to pull away she finds that he holds her in place, squeezing her hand in return before letting it go. “Yes but you almost weren’t. It’s becoming an occurrence that is far too often for my liking.”

“We’re going to have those days Sherlock. Cases will go wrong sometimes. I seem to remember two months ago you got locked in the back of a suspect’s trunk and got taken to the other side of New York.”

“Yes, I know.” He sighs frustratedly. “I just need to get something off my chest. Something that should one of us die tomorrow I know I said my piece.”

“Sherlock?”

“Joan,” Her name once again holds the strength to knock the air from her lungs. The amount of emotion he can pack into one syllable is remarkable. “The truth is, I’ve never loved anyone as I have you.” He steps closer to her, still minding her space but just enough to make it intimate. A space between them that hasn’t been crossed outside of undercover cases. “It’s true I loved Moriarty. I once said that everyone else pales in comparison to her. It seems I made the same fatal mistake as she. I underestimated you.”

Her fingers reach to him but she stops herself, knowing better than not to interrupt. She doesn’t want to break the fragile glass holding this moment together.

“What I had with her though… Is so different. With Moriarty it was as if I was addicted to her. To her touch, to how she made me feel. It was a rush of adrenaline I could never mimic. Not even with heroin. You, however, sustain. You keep me alive Watson. You are like water in a desert. I never knew I was thirsting until I met you. Until I almost lost you, I took that for granted. No more.”

His confession hangs in the air on a thin thread. One wrong move would send everything crashing and he could retreat. His eyes no longer meet hers, rather he stares down at the space in between them so focused on the swirls in the wood. She can practically see the shame washing over him.

She takes the step forwards putting herself in his view. Her fingers reach for his cheek pulling his eyes up to hers. She searches them for any chance that this may be some sort of trick of any kind. An experiment that he may be using to test her. Truth and vulnerability shine in the blue depths. Her thumb caresses the thin layer of stubble growing in again. The lack of heels draws her attention to the height difference. His hands hover before landing on her waist, fingers spreading across the fabric of her cardigan. She can practically see him logging every detail into his mind.

In the end it’s her that crosses the final line as she leans up brushing her lips against his. His eyes never close still taking in every detail. She grows a little bolder as she feels his grip on her tighten so she presses a little bit firmer gauging his response. Finally tension seeps out of his body and he sinks into her. Her heart thrums so loudly in her ears she wonders momentarily if he can hear it too.

Her breath catches as his hands begin to explore as well. One ventures up her spine settling between her shoulder blades to pull her closer, the other buries in her blonde locks taking in how it feels between his fingers. Her own hands find new places as well, one gripping the front of his shirt and the other the back of his neck, her nails scratching the base of his hairline.

In the heat of the moment she forgets her injuries. She gains more confidence, but as she pushes against him her ribs cry out in protest pulling a whimper from his lips. He immediately pulls away eyes assessing once again. “I’m sorry.” He mutters the apology along with the phrases ‘foolish’ and ‘I forgot’ dispersed between his quiet words.

“I’m okay.” She whispers pressing a faint kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Right.” He leans his forehead against hers, lips stretching into a genuine smile. His eyes sparkle with something she’s never seen before. It sends her heart thumping all over again. They remain like that for a few minutes. They simply linger in each other’s embrace seeking comforts they weren’t allowed just minutes before. She feels his heart pounding against her fingertips just as quick as hers. His nose bumps against hers as if he’s tempted to delve in once again, yet he resists the pull. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold, shall we?”

“I’m starved.” She smiles back giddy with promises anew. “What’d you get?”

“Thai. I know it’s your favorite.”

#joanlock #joan watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x joan #sherlock holmes x joan watson #elementary #marcus bell #elementary cbs #confessions #notgonnarememberthis fics

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toomanysurveys9 · 6 years ago

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Is one of your favorite colors yellow?: i don’t really like the color yellow generally. Are you into astrology?: not really, no.

Was your last text an angry one?: no. i was just going back to discuss something my mom and i talked about this morning. If you have a job, when do you work next?: i don’t have work. i’m a stay at home mom right now.

What color undies are you wearing?: gray.

How old are your siblings?: 23, 22, 16, 6, and 5. Would you rather wash your hands or use Germ-X?: wash my hands. germ-x dries my hands out. Are you a sanitary person?: i think so for the most part.

Do you consider yourself a model citizen?: no. but i’m not horrible though either.

Ever won school awards?: yeah i did.

Have you ever had an eating disorder?: none that was diagnosed.

Do you throw the word ‘love’ around a lot?: i do not. i only say it if i mean it.

How many animals do you have?: i have two dogs. my parents also have a dog, and erin has a cat. When do you usually fall asleep at night?: i’m usually in bed by 10-10:30 with wyatt although i don’t go to sleep until hours later unfortunately.

When did you last babysit?: i helped keep an eye on lilli and rose a little bit yesterday although i wasn’t the primary caretaker of them.

Do you have a problem with odd numbers?: not especially, no.

Ever had a fishtank in your room?: i have not.

Do you wear a lot of plaid?: i do not.

Have any friends with children?: a lot of my “friends” have children... if you want to call them friends.

Do you drink more soda than anything else?: no. more water and milk.

Do you wear hats often?: in winter i do.

Do you know anyone who wears camouflage often?: not super often. but i guess. What color pants are you wearing?: blue jeans. How many jobs have you had?: quite a few. Do you listen to music while getting ready?: not usually. i’m usually in too much of a hurry. Christmas or Halloween?: i absolutely love both . i’m not sure i could pick. Do you hate your last ex?: i don’t really have any kind of emotions towards him. Have you ever been in a choir class?: i was in pretty much all of middle and high school, with the exception of maybe one year. What’s your favorite season?: my absolute favorite is probably fall.

Do you have decent grammar?: i do, even if it doesn’t seem that way on here. Are you ashamed of any of your family members?: the ones who sexually abused me, yes. and the ones who supported them over me. Have you ever been attacked by an animal?: not badly, no. At what age did you learn to read?: i don’t know. i just know that when i did, that was it. it became my passion. How was your hair fixed during your last kiss?: just down and brushed, as usual.

Do you like animals?: i love animals.

Do you think you’re attractive?: i know i’m not.

Do you curse a lot?: sometimes i do. depends on the day and my mood.

Have you ever been in a courtroom?: not that i can think of.

When did you last go to the library?: when i was in college. it’s been a very long time. i need to get a library card. What color car do you drive, if any at all?: if i drive a car, it’s usually jacob’s black cobalt. Do people ask you for favors often?: yeah. all the time. Do you think you’re reliable?: i think i am.

Are most of your friends older than you?: kayla is by a couple weeks. Do you ever wear cardigan sweaters?: occasionally but not often.

Do you dress formally often?: definitely not. no reason to.

Do you still live in your birthtown?: nope. i do not.

Do you eat a lot around Thanksgiving?: on thanksgiving i eat quite a bit.

Have you ever been part of a study group?: not really, no. What is your favorite day of the week?: i guess my favorite is probably saturday.

How often do you dye your hair?: i don’t dye it.

Ever had a pregnancy scare?: yeah. Do you have a busy life?: not especially, no. i like to try to stay busy... but never really have much to do.

Is there a liquor cabinet in your house?: nope. jacob keeps his booze in our bedroom and my mom has a bottle of alcohol in the fridge.

Do you enjoy family dinners?: usually.

Were you a chubby child?: i was average i think.

Favorite childhood movie?: the lion king and tarzan.

When did you last cash a check?: it’s been a few months.

Do you owe anyone any money?: credit card, doctor, etc.

What is your favorite citrus fruit?: probably oranges.

Are you afraid to sing in front of people?: yes and no. it always gives me butterflies, but i’ve also done it quite a bit. Do you enjoy your family?: i do most of the time. we have our problems like all families do occasionally though. When did you last dance with someone?: i danced with wyatt the other day. at the store. lol.

What’s the last sweet thing someone told you?: i don’t remember, to be honest.

If you have a significant other, do you love them?: i do. Are you currently broke?: not quite. Do your eyes change color sometimes?: a little. Do you have any bad habits?: i care too much about other people and go until the point of completely exhausting myself trying to take care of everyone. What are you currently wishing for?: an idea for dinner would be great. my parents and sisters are going to mcdonalds but i really don’t want fast food again. i want to cook. i just don’t know what. maybe jacob will have an idea... if he even stays home today. which he probably won’t since he was stuck at home yesterday due to rain. Something you crave?: yogurt i suppose. cupcakes. lol. i’m holding off on that one though so far! Do you feel awkward watching sex scenes?: depends who i’m around i suppose. Did you ever have senior photos done?: my dad took them and did a good job. :) Do you plan on going to college?: i graduated in 2016. Are your parents protective of you?: they kind of are these days i guess. Have you ever been bullied?: i have.. even though i kept to myself.. Do you ever help decorate during the holidays?: i guess so. i really want to decorate more since we can now. :D Do you enjoy cooking?: i do but rarely get the chance. Do you trust your head or your heart?: i’m not sure. neither seem the most reliable. i guess my heart.. Do you attend church regularly?: i never attend church. Have you ever been to a concert before?: i’ve been to quite a few. What is your favorite television show?: supernatural is definitely my number one, although i am WAY behind because the last episode of season ten absolutely broke my heart. i also enjoy law and order: svu, with elliot. i’m not as into it without him. How many colors are in the shirt you’re wearing?: four. What are your plans for tonight?: no plans besides maybe cooking dinner for jacob, wy, and myself. maybe i’ll be cooking for grandparents, ashley, and erin too.. but i’m not sure.

Do you have carpeted floors?: my grandparents room, the stairs, upstairs hallway, kids’ room, and my room have carpet. everywhere else does not.

Can you count to ten in another language?: in a couple, actually. Why did you last cry?: a song. What color cup did you last drink from?: red plastic cup. Are you currently tired?: a little. my nap wasn’t as long as wyatt’s. lol. What time did you wake up this morning?: about 9 for the day. Do you have to work tomorrow?: i’m a stay at home mom. What color shoes are you wearing?: not wearing shoes. How old are your parents?: my mom is 44 and my dad is 45 until november 14 of this year.

Do you have any friends who are almost midgets?: no.. and that’s not the acceptable term, i’m pretty sure. Are you wearing any jewelry?: not at the moment, no. Where is your best friend?: jacob is at work for another half hour. and i’m not sure about kayla. we don’t see each other much anymore.

Have you ever been arrested?: i have not. i’ve never done anything “bad” enough to come even close to being arrested. Favorite candy?: reeses.

Do you always lock your door at night?: yes. we do.

Do you get allowance?: i’m a little too old for allowance.

Do you have a Facebook?: i do.

Favorite dessert?: lately i’ve been wanting cupcakes. but usually it’s ice cream.

Are you talented at singing?: people say i am.

Do you enjoy the presence of children?: i have one and one on the way. i better. lol. :) but yes. i love kids. especially my own. :) Kittens or dogs?: i LOVE both, but tend to be more of a dog person i suppose. Have you ever wanted to be a teacher?: very briefly. When did you last straighten your hair?:

it’s been years.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

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homoose · 3 years ago

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Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (OC)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Maggie hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it.

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Maggie made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers.