#aliyah (fic) talks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thenickgirl · 5 months ago

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TERRIBLE TWOS

dad!nick x male!reader

summary: in which you and your husband, Nick, try to handle your daughter, Aliyah’s, tired behavior.

genre: fluff ✩ pov: second person ✩ word count: 1.4k

warnings: none?

a/n: uhh i know i said i wasn’t writing another fic, but i’m a liar so, jokes on you actually. i came up with this in the shower and just couldn’t pass it up. it was meant to be a little blurb, but gang wanted more so. the ending is awkward sorry, i still don’t quite know what i’m doing. anyways, happy reading! ❤️‍🔥

Life as new parents isn’t always the easiest, but you two have handled things fairly well. The past two years with your daughter, Aliyah, have been amazing. Nick is able to work on his business remotely, so he mostly stayed home with her, while you went in to work everyday. He was an outstanding father, and Aliyah absolutely adored him, they were so close. She loved you just as much of course, and on the weekends she loved having you both home to cuddle and play with. She had grown used to your daily routine, however, today was going to be different, because Nick had meetings lined up that he had to be in the office for, so you took off in order to stay home with her. It wasn’t the first time you had been alone with your daughter obviously, but it had been a while. Still, you were eager to spend some one on one time with your sweet girl. You had heard horror stories of people complaining about their toddlers' behavior, but you always chalked it up to them either over exaggerating or just being bad parents. That was until today, when your own toddler decided she wanted to switch things up.

“BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??” you shout as your husband, Nick, walks in the door, his hands full of bags you assumed to be groceries. “I know, I’m sorry our last meeting ran way over, and I knew we needed some things for dinner so I decided to stop by the store on the way home.” He says as he walks into the kitchen, placing the bags onto the island. “We might not even make it to dinner!” you shout, and Nick looks over at you confused, his eyes narrowing. “Babe, what are you talking about?” he chuckles, as he puts the food away, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. “Aliyah, your daughter, didn’t go down for her nap today.” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why is she only my daughter when she doesn’t take a nap?” he responds, mimicking your gesture. “That’s because she acts just like you when she doesn’t. She’s extremely cranky. She wouldn’t stop crying. She’s been throwing fits every 15 minutes. SHE ACTUALLY THREW AT BLOCK AT ME!” you yell recounting the event. Nick bites back a laugh before the realization hits him, “Ohh no,” he whispers. “Exactly! I swear, this is the worst it’s ever been,” you sigh, placing your head in your hands.

“No!” Nick utters, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, we are not going to be defeated by a 2 year old, okay? This is our house, and we’re in charge.” he says hastily as you nod along to his rant. “Yeah, we’re the adults here!” you agree. “Say it!” he demands, “This is our house, and we’re in charge!” you shout. “RIGHT! So where is she?” he asks, walking out of the kitchen into the hallway. “She’s sitting in her playroom room, I turned on Gracie’s Corner. This is the longest that she’s been content all day. I don’t see how you do this, I almost started crying with her.” you say before following behind your husband, and he chuckles at your statement before turning to face you, “You’re doing great, it gets better, I promise,” he praises as he holds your face in his hands, kissing your forehead sweetly, and you smile up at him.

“Well, did you at least put the Gracie video on loop?” he asks, turning away to walk down the hall towards the playroom, with you not far behind. “Loop? What loop? What are you talking about?” you ask confusedly, and Nick stops in his tracks, causing you to run into him. He turns around sharply to face you, his eyes widening. “You didn’t loop it? Babe, you have to loop it because once it goes off she-“ “DADDYYYYYY!” you hear your daughter’s cries from down the hall, and sigh deeply. As you and your husband rush to her, you were stopped in your tracks by her meeting you halfway, her ocean blue eyes welling with tears.

You both kneel down to her level, and Nick wipes away her tears with his thumb, his demeanor softening the second he sees his little girl. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks softly. “Daddy, Gwacie went off, I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie!” she chants, stomping her tiny feet. You and Nick just sit there, watching your daughter absolutely lose it. “Liyah Jade, c’mon now. Gracie isn’t going anywhere, we can always restart it, you’re fine. Just calm down, honey,” he reassures her. “Okay, can I have a cookie pwease daddy?” she says pouting. “Sure, let's go get you a cookie,” “Nicolas!” you utter in disbelief. “Why don’t you go pick out the cookie you want okay? I’ll be there in a second,” he says to his baby girl as she skips away down the hall. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “Cookies before dinner, really?” “I know, but she was pouting, and c’mon she’s so cute!” he says defeated. “What happened to ‘this is our house and we’re in charge’?” you say, chuckling and he pauses. “Doesn’t really sound like something I would say,” he smirks as he walks into the kitchen with Aliyah, shaking your head at the way she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Once back in the playroom, after having cookies and watching Gracie together as a family for what felt like the hundredth time, you noticed that it was getting close to dinner time. You leave the two to continue watching more videos while you go and cook. You decide to prepare something quick and easy. After spending all afternoon with a grumpy toddler, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more elaborate. As you were finishing whipping up dinner, you could hear Nick and Aliyah in the other room bickering, and you couldn’t help listening. His ability to straight up argue with a toddler never ceased to amuse you.

“But honey, when you make a mess you have to clean it up. Look, we can even make it fun. I can turn on some music and-”

“No, daddy! I can’t want to!”

You couldn’t see him, but you just knew your husband was rolling his eyes. Once dinner is ready, you call for them to come and eat. To your surprise dinner goes smoothly. Usually, Aliyah complains about eating her vegetables, saying ‘I can’t want that! It’s gwoss’, but tonight she ate them willingly. Maybe her missing a nap wasn't so bad after all, you thought to yourself. You glance over and see your daughter yawn for the third time, and you and Nick give each other a knowing look. The ‘no naps’ campaign she had been running was finally taking a toll on her.

After dinner, you started getting ready for bed. You gave Aliyah a bath, brushed her teeth, and got her ready for bed. Nick came in soon after to read her favorite story. She cuddled up next to him, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. You watched from the door frame as the story ended, and your toddler now sound asleep in your husband's arms. “Soo, have we defeated Bowser yet, or no?” you say teasingly. “Shh! Don’t call her that!” Nick says as he throws a plushie from her bed at you. You jump out of the way so that it misses you, “I’m kidding! She is cute though, especially when she’s sleeping,” you say looking down at her tiny frame, smiling. “Amen to that, a lot quieter too.” You both chuckle and Nick gets up out of her bed, careful not to wake the little sleeping beauty, before tucking her in, and you each kiss her goodnight.

You tip top quietly out of her room, closing the door gently, and you both let out a sigh of relief. You head towards your bedroom which is only a couple doors down, and start getting ready for bed yourselves, the two of you feeling pretty worn out. After showering and slipping on pajamas, you both plop down into your bed on your respective sides, settling under the covers. “Today went completely different from what I expected,” you confess as you cuddle into your husband's side. He laughs as he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back softly. “I probably should’ve given you a heads up about that. She is a menace when she’s tired,” “Yep, sounds familiar,” you tease and he pinches your side. “Heyyy! I’m not that bad, and I will just go to sleep if I’m tired, not start a whole ass riot,” he says in defense and you both laugh. After a while, a comfortable silence grows between you and before long you both drift off to sleep.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo @sturniolossss @moonk1ss3d @nickgetsmewetter

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x reader #mr stromboli #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #a fics #stromboli fics #n fic

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mintsturniolo · 4 months ago

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Fireworks (c.s)

bf!chris sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: i really am working on requests. i just got writer's block rn. this was meant to be a 4th of july fic but i got busy lol

summary: chris and aliyah watch the fireworks at a 4th of july festival

*kinda short*

It had been a long time since Chris and Aliyah had spent quality time together. Between her college classes and everything Chris was doing, it was rare that they spent more than thirty minutes talking to each other. It was because of this that Chris had decided to take Aliyah to the 4th of July festival. “The fireworks are about to start,” Aliyah said excitedly as they got up from the table they’d been sitting at.

Chris nodded as he threw their trash away. “Where did you want to go see them?” he asked. “A lot of people seem to be going back to their cars.”

Aliyah looked around as she thought about what she wanted to do next. She was about to suggest they go back to the car when the ferris wheel across the fairgrounds caught her eye. “What do you think of the Ferris wheel?” She asked.

Chris smirked as he took Aliyah’s hand. “Sounds romantic,” he muttered gently kissing Aliyah on the lips. “Let’s go. It’s going to start soon.”

The couple made their way to the ferris wheel and smiled when they realized they were some of the few people who were going to be on it. Chris took Aliyah’s hand and helped her into the seat before joining her. “You ready?” he asked, causing Aliyah to nod excitedly.

Chris couldn’t stop staring at Aliyah as they got higher on the ferris wheel. She was stunning. The way her hair moved in the breeze. Her smile as she took in the view down below. Aliyah looked over at Chris and grinned. “What are you staring at?”

“You look amazing baby,” he replied as he put a hand under her chin.

Aliyah blushed as Chris kissed her. She felt herself lean deeper into the kiss. Chris ran his fingers through Aliyah’s hair as the kiss became more passionate. The sound of the fireworks starting caused the couple to pull away from each other. “Look. We’re almost at the top,” Aliyah said excitedly.

Chris wrapped an arm around Aliyah as they neared the top. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” sighed as they watched the fireworks.

Aliyah shrugged as she rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s fine. I know you guys have a lot going on right now.”

The couple was quiet as the fireworks continued to light up the sky. Soon the ride ended and Chris took Aliyah’s hand to help her off the ferris wheel. “What do you want to do now baby? I think the festival might be over now.”

“I wouldn’t mind a quick bite at Dunkin,” Aliyah replied as they began heading in the direction of the car.

They were quiet for a moment before Aliyah slowed down. “What’s wrong?” Chris asked.

“Nothing,” Aliyah replied as she got closer to her boyfriend.

Chris smiled as Aliyah brushed her lips against his. Chris placed a hand on Aliyah’s waist as he returned the kiss. “Let’s go to the car.”

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos

#chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #imagine

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sturniolos-blog · 9 months ago

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Adopted - Sturniolo little sister fic

so i am not taking credit for this whatsoever, @sturniololoco is to take credit for this and i love her work so i hope this is okay. (lmk if it’s not) But i thought of this request and wanted to act on it myself, i don’t believe this is already a fic.

this fic is for anyone who is not white or is of a different race, for example i am hispanic and mixed but deal with lots a racism and get called the n word, so this is a fic about being the sturniolos little sister but dealing with racism.

warning: swearing, complete racism, use of the n word but censored out, mentions of fighting and blood

im only writing this to give examples of real life, no harm is meant to be done ‼️

the reader will take place as a teenager, younger mostly maybe early teens.

enjoy !

—————————

Being mixed was hard, especially going to a practically all white school with maybe a few kids of a different race there.

I knew i would eventually have to feel with racism, especially since my older brothers are white and im adopted, but i didn’t know it would be this bad.

I snapped out of my thoughts as i was going to walk towards my group of friends but some girl stops me, monica, no one likes her, she’s literally the talk of the school, we used to be best friends but she was really fake, and she talks to me sometimes, we aren’t tight but we definitely don’t hate each other,

“Hey, it’s your month.” She smirked at me.

I scoffed, “What?” My face turning to a confused one as i looked at her, people walking through the hallways trying to get to their next class.

“Black history month,” She laughed.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” I got in her face as the hallways were clearing.

“Get to class guys!” A teacher yelled before walking in her class room.

Monica began to walk away, i grabbed her arm though, “Finish what you were saying, say it again and see what happens.”

“It’s your month, you fucking weirdo, you’re family is not even your color you’re not even supposed to be with them, no wonder they don’t show you in videos they’re probably too embarrassed to have someone who is dark as fu-”

I cut her off with a shove, her back that had her backpack on it was slammed into the locker.

“Say it again!” I dared her, dropping my bag on the ground.

“You’re a fucking n***** and a sp*c.” She said in my face, i lost it.

I punched her in the face and shoved her again, she went to grab my hair but i grabbed her hand and pushed it back against the locker, kicking her knee before punching her in the face, her nose starting to bleed, she smacked me in the head but literally did nothing.

I grabbed her by her nasty old sweatshirt and swung her to hit the other set of lockers on the opposite wall, she let out a grunt,

“Ow!” She yelled loudly. She was on the ground with tears, not that she was crying but probably involuntary tears from the pain.

“Don’t try me.” I scoffed, grabbing my bag and starting to walk to my class, making it in to spanish.

“Why are you late?” My spanish teacher, Ms.Gonzalez asked.

“I got the schedules mixed up, sorry, it won’t happen again.” I apologized.

“That’s fine.” She said, Ms. Gonzalez was a nice teacher, let everything slide, sort of dumb too but that’s okay.

I went and sat at my desk, shit.

I totally forgot Monica is in this class.

Where is she?

I thought to myself before pulling out my spanish stuff.

“Hey, you okay?” My friend Aliyah leaned over and asked me,

“Yep.” I smiled.

———————————————————

About 15 minutes go by and the phone rings, Ms.Gonzalez answers, picking up the phone,

“Hello?” She asks, getting some sort of answer before she looked around the room, her eyes stopped on me, “Yep, i have her.” She smiled.

I tried to focus on my spanish work, but-

“Y/n? they need you down in the office, bring your stuff.” She said.

I sighed and nodded, packing my stuff up, Aliyah looks at me confused,

“Don’t worry about it.” I whispered before leaving the classroom.

I got down to the office and i saw Matt, Chris, and Nick all sitting there. God, that’s embarrassing.

I opened the office doors and smiled at them, but soon dropped my smile as they all gave me death glares, even Matt, which was crazy because he was supposed to be the nice chill brother.

Matt’s knee was bouncing up and down and he was biting his nails, slouched slightly. Nick was on his phone, biting his lip and Chris was sat with his head back, up at the ceiling.

I see my principle walk out from his office, chris sitting up, nick putting his phone down and matt not slouching anymore.

“May i speak with one of you?” He points at my brothers, mom and dad must be at work.

Matt sits up, “You can talk to me.” He smiles, standing up.

My principle nods, “Great, right this way.”

My principle turns to me first, “Go see Ms.Lee, she wants to talk to you.” He says, talking about the vice principle. My principle was a very nice guy, but i wasn’t the best student ever so you’d find me in the office sometimes, but i usually talked to Ms.Lee, she was a nice lady, i usually filled her in on drama.

Matt and My principle walk into my principles office and he shuts the door.

I see Ms.Lee come out of her office and point at me, a disappointed look on her face, she makes the ‘come here’ motion with her finger.

I give one last glance to chris and nick before walking to her office and sitting down, she shuts the door and walks back behind her desk, sitting down and sighing.

“Whats up, Ms.L?” I laugh.

She gives me that look and i immediately stopped.

“Sorry,” I coughed.

“What were you thinking? Monica already told me the whole story so don’t even think about lying, i mean come on you argue with everyone i get that but hands on fighting? That’s absolutely crazy coming from you, y/n” She said, shaking her head.

“She called me the N word, called me a spic, told me it was my month, said i don’t even belong in my family!” I defended myself.

My vice principle went to talk but i cut her off, “I obviously know fighting is bad and i would usually never hit first.” I clarified, Ms.Lee rolled her eyes.

“-But that really hurt, bad. Plus, actions speak louder than words so,” I shrugged, leaning back in my seat.

“She told us you went crazy on her for nothing.” Ms.Lee said quietly.

“On my life, what i told you is what happened. She was being mad racist towards me.” I said.

Ms.Lee nodded, “You’re suspended for a week, i’m sorry but you drew blood.” Ms.Lee shook her head.

“Okay, does she get anything?” I asked, my knee bouncing up and down.

Ms.Lee hesitated, “We-” she sighed and looked down, “The most we can give her is an in school suspension, maybe two days.”

My mouth dropped, “Ms.L, you’re kidding.” I scoffed. “You understand how unfair this is, right?”

“Yes, but we can’t do much, we don’t have audio from the camera, all we see is you talking and then you shoving her and punching her in the face,” Ms.Lee said softly.

“But- i- i only-” I teared up and shook my head, “This is bullshit.” I whispered.

Ms.L nodded, “I know, honey. I’m sorry.” She said, a knock then came on her door, it opened and it was my principle,

“Y/n, it’s time to go home now. We will see you next week.” He said.

I nodded, “Thanks.” I whispered, walking out.

Matt was standing up, his hands in his pockets, Nick and chris got up when they saw me,

“Ready, kid?” Chris put his hand on my back.

“Chris.” Matt scolded him as we walked out of the office.

We made it to the car and got in.

“On a scale of 1-10, how mad are you guys right now?” I cautiously asked.

Matt scoffed, Nick gave me a sad smile before looking out the window, and chris started to speak.

“Well, i’m actually not that- ow!” He got cut off by Matt hitting him in the arm as we pulled out of the schools parking lot.

I sighed and looked out the window, my fingers tapping on it slightly,

“Where’s mom and dad?” I asked.

“At work.” Matt said. His monotone voice giving me the chills.

“Okay, but do you even know what really happened because-”

“Y/n, shut up! You beat up a girl who just asked you for the homework answers, the fuck is wrong with you?!” Matt yelled harshly, he never yelled at me. Ever.

Tears welled up in my eyes, “Matt!” Nick yelled at him. “Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Calm down bro.” Chris patted Matt’s shoulder.

“That’s not what happened.” I said, my voice cracking.

“Then what happened, huh? Tell us, because your principle gave a very good explanation to us.” Matt said, making a right turn onto our street.

“She-” i took in a breath, i looked at the rearview mirror and see matt with his jaw clenched.

“She called me the n word, a spic, told me it was my month, and that i don’t belong in our family because im dark. She also said thats why you don’t show me in videos.” I said, playing with my hands.

Matt stopped the car as we pulled into our driveway.

“She what?” He turned around after turning the car off.

—————————

We got inside and i dropped my bag on the floor.

“Y/n, i’m sorry i had no idea-” Matt started.

“It’s okay,” I said as i took a seat at our island.

“Mom and dad are gonna be so mad.” I whimpered.

Nick put his hand on my shoulder, “We will talk to them. Promise.” He held out his pinky and i interlocked it, smiling at him.

“Great job defending yourself, y/n, not the best way you coulda gone but we are proud.” Chris said, Matt then gave nick and chris a look to give us a moment, so chris nodded kissing my forehead before him and nick walked to their rooms.

Matt sat next to me, “I’m sorry i freaked out. I love you, you know that right?” I nodded at his words.

“I’m sorry i disappointed you guys, it was so bad, matt, it hurt so much-” I let out a sob before he pulled me in for a hug, kissing my cheek and letting me cry in his chest, i heard him sniffle in my ear.

“You didn’t disappoint us, okay? We love you, so so much, nothing will change that. We don’t put you in our videos because you were to young, but your older now so you can be in as many as you want,” Matt pulled away from the hug and took my face in his hands.

“Okay? we love you, i love you. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve any of that, you are a beautiful young girl, okay?” Matt whispered, i nodded and he kissed my head. Hugging me again.

Maybe it was okay to be adopted.

—————————

I wrote this in like an hour, i hope this was okay. And i hope you guys like it, love you!

Also, should i start a tag list?

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #littlesister #sturniololittlesister #racism

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year ago

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moonlit company (miorine rembran x reader)

tags: gn!reader

a/n: i always thought my first gundam fic would be about duo because he was my first gundam love but here i am. duo, my beloved, it’ll be your turn eventually.

It was guilt that led to you being Aliyah’s plus one tonight. Her parents were entrusting her to lead. It was bad luck this was the week the rest of your mutual friends were busy.

Nika was busy helping Martin organize his notes for their shared civil engineering class. Ojelo and Nuko were out of town. Lilique, popular as ever, was on a date with someone who really seemed to be the one according to Aliyah’s most recent reading for her. And Chuchu? Everyone in your group of friends knew that she would rather bite off her tongue than subject herself to being around the wealthy for any amount of time.

Aliyah only gets the pass because her family started from the bottom and clawed their way to higher status. It also helps that you all grew up together, your friend group solidifying your first and second years of high school.

When Aliyah inevitably made her way to asking if you could be her plus one so she wouldn’t entirely be alone at this event, you felt too bad to tell her no. It would be quick, she promised.

I’d literally rather be anywhere else, you groaned quietly into your champagne. Your original Saturday plans had included ignoring your essay you planned to write the morning it was due in favor of watching the newest season of Summertime. But when you saw her, you were glad you took up the offer to tag along

The woman is gorgeous, dressed in an off the shoulder evening blue dress with matching heels and beautiful pale silver hair pulled back into a bun. Her silver eyes are sharp and she is standing alone, a look of displeasure all over her face.

It’s then that you remember the reading Aliyah gave you a few days ago. “Once you start getting out of the house more, an opportunity for love will rise in an unexpected place,” Aliyah said as she observed the results of her reading. “But I’m seeing it could go either way, this person is a bit hard to get a read on. If it works out, though, things look like they’ll be really good.

If Chuchu had come, you know what she would be telling you in this instant. Something fervently along the lines of ‘eat the rich’, ‘class traitor’ and ‘you aren’t even going to ever see this girl again’. In this moment, you can’t find yourself caring.

She’s beautiful and you want to talk to her, even if she looks like she might try to kill you if you do. Maybe she just has resting bitch face. Or maybe she just wants to be alone. I’ll never find out staying over here though.

Your personal motto in life is simpleー rejection is better than regret. That’s what spurs you to walk from the table you plastered yourself to most of the evening to the one this girl is standing by. “Not a fan of these kinds of events?” You aren’t too surprised when you receive a look of suspicion. From this angle, she almost looks like Weiss Schnee, minus the dope scar.

“I’m not a fan of cesspools where everyone gathers just to brag about their shares and talk about outdated business plans,” Not-Weiss-Schee replies tersely. Yeah, she’s definitely been to one too many of these parties. “And what company are you from?” Despite the question, you can tell that she couldn’t care less about whatever business you’re associated with.

“I’m associated with the Best Friend Company,” there’s no look of recognition in her eyes and you are relieved there really isn’t a Best Friend Company either of you know of. ‘It’s the service where your friend begs you to tag along so they don’t have to be alone and you ditch your plans to stay home and watch Netflix all night. But she’s off talking with someone right now so I’m just sitting back and letting her have fun”

Her guard doesn’t lower but she huffs silently, “so you only sought me out to ease your boredom?”

“Oh no, I love this kind of stuff,” you grin, holding your drink lazily. “Just call me the modern day Lady Whistledown.” You gesture to the rest of the members of the event you’re attending, settling your sights on a woman at random. “See that lady over there? You’re looking at Kiona Brown. She owns a world-famous boutique in Milan but I’m pretty sure no one knows it is actually the base for her underground boxing ring.”

The white-haired woman raises an eyebrow and you aren’t sure if she is simply unimpressed or finds you stupid. “That’s Rasheeda Washington and she owns the largest black-owned software company in the state.”

Wow, I wasn’t even close with that name.

“But the stuff I just made up is still a lot more amusing than truth, right?” You down the rest of your glass with a smile, taking it in stride. At least she didn’t outright tell you to get lost, that’s better than nothing. “So she isn’t from Milan and she isn’t in fashion, but you have to admit that you would have found her a lot more interesting if it turned out she was hosting some type of Fight Club thing no one knew about.”

You thumb in the direction of some brown-skinned man with long blond hair. “Like that guy. Is he actually some old money douche who thinks he worked hard for what he has? Or is he actually a vampire who decided to go on a world-wide wine tasting tour and is posing as some old money douche because it adds to the experience?”

She tries fighting against it but despite her best efforts, Not-Weiss-Schnee’s lips quirk into a small but visible smile. “I read a book once where the protagonist and his love interest would ride on the bus for hours making up stories about the passengers,” you recall the smell of the pages and the book’s poetic prose. You were so enamored that you eventually began trying it out yourself, making up stories of those who crossed your path and you knew you would never encounter again. “It’s pretty much my secret weapon to surviving parties.”

You nod in the direction a tall gentleman in a suit. He’s handsome with his black and pink hair and a beauty mark under his right eye. “Take that guy for instance,” you begin. “I’ve been calling him Faizan Abdul. He invests in mechanical engineering projects and he is definitely a jock. Probably basketball. But deep down he wants nothing more than to be a househusband of his working woman wife. I mean the cute apron and watching Real Housewives kind of vibe.”

She opens her mouth to protest before she closes it, surprised. “That’s,” she looks at the man who is now talking to a warm-faced woman with red hair and the cutest eyebrows you’ve ever seen. She reminded you of the last puppy of a litter waiting to be adopted, complete with a heart of gold. “a surprisingly accurate description of Guel Jeturk. But Shaddiq Zenelli isn’t old money or a wine-tasting vampire.”

You set your empty glass on the table beside you. “I pride myself on my having a 50/50 chance on being right 100% of the time,” you laugh and you’re pleased when you see the change in your companion’s body language. Her arms are still crossed yet her arms are loose and she is facing you completely.

“Alright,” silver eyes look at you with sharp amusement. “What’s the story you’ve picked out for me?”

“Your story?” You hum, drawling out your answer. “You’re definitely an entrepreneur. One that’s always several steps ahead of the game; that’s why you’re the type of stand in the corner at events. You wanna observe the competition,” maybe she has her basis in engineering as well. No, her foundation certainly lies in business. “And don’t get mad but I’ve been calling you Weiss Schnee for the past five minutes. At least, this is your cover story. I’m going all in that you’re secretly a spy and you’re here to snuff out the bad guys. How close did I get?”

“Pretty off about most of it,” Not-Weiss-Schnee admits, a tint of sadness in her smile. “Weiss Schnee is a lot cooler than Miorine Rembran, I wish I was like her.” There’s a story there but you respect where she finishes it. You don’t know the problems that plague Ms. Miorine Rembran, but you hope that tonight she feels at ease.

“Damn,” you clutch your chest with a faux hiss of pain. “50/50 chance it goes either way 100% of the time.” You click your tongue but you make sure your tone is light. “But whoever Miorine Rembran is, I think she’s a lot cooler than Miorine Rembran is giving her credit for.”

Maybe it’s arrogance or severely estimating your ability to cheer people up, but you think Miorine looks happier ーlighter?ー at your words. “And do I get to know your name now?”

“[First] [Last],” you introduce yourself seamlessly and with a mocking bow. “I kinda got dragged here by a friend. She didn’t want to come by herself. Her parents wanted her to meet some guy name Lauda, I’m here as her backup if the guy turns out to be a creep.” Other than his habit of fiddling with his hair, however, the guy seems decent enough. A bit stiff and overly serious but decent. “She’s over there with the dude who keeps playing with his hair. The sap must be nervous, I don’t blame him. Aliyah’s a total catch.”

“Aliyah Mahvash?”

“Oh you know her?”

Miorine shakes her head, “not personally, I just know of her family.”

Family.

“Wait,” you say, feeling a new buzz of excitement as Miorine looks at you completely. “I think I recognize your name!” Miorine’s face seems to blanch at your words but the word vomit flows past your lips before you can stop yourself. “You don’t happen to be related to a Nortrette Rembran do you? It might be a long shot but that isn’t a common surname.”

The grimace quickly turns to wide-eyed surprise. “I,” she pauses before quickly collecting her composure. “Yes, she’s my mother.”

“That is so cool,” a wave of nostalgia passes over you. “After watching Jurassic Park I had a phase for a week where I wanted to be a botanist. I remember seeing her name a lot. I even watched a couple of her documentaries. One on the cultivation of tomatoes and another on the histories of other well-known crops.” You always wanted to taste the variety of tomatoes the world-famous botanist produced, but they were too rare. Not to mention expensive. “Never did go into botany but I have a few succulents. What about you? Are you in the field?”

Miorine pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “no, but I garden in my spare time.” She is the most at ease she’s been since you approached her. “I mostly focus on growing her tomatoes but there are other plants I grow too.”

You consider this an invitation to pursue further conversation. “I’ve always wanted to try those,” everyone makes them sound like a gift from the heaven’s. “Do you focus only on growing produce or do you plant flowers too?”

And that is how you fall into a lengthy conversation about Miorine’s greenhouse. Growing her mother’s tomatoes is her pride but she grows a plethora of other thingsー heather, potted hydrangeas and other assorted flora. You’re halfway through a conversation about her attempts to keep a calathea alive with some sort of fungal fertilizer when you notice a persistent movement.

From the corner of your eye, you see Aliyah’s wave. Guess we finally capped at the length of time she’s obligated to be here. “Looks like we’re about to bounce,” you nod in your friend’s direction before turning your gaze back at Miorine.

“Then you should get going,” Miorine sighs, glowering at as she stares in a particular direction. “It gets more boring from here. Escape while you can.”

You can’t hold back a snicker, “thanks for the warning, we’ll head out then.” Rejection’s better than regret. “But if you still want company so you don’t have to die from boredom, we can swap contact info if you want.”

Miorine practically shoves her phone, unlocked, in your hands. “I would have been really disappointed if after all that you didn’t ask for my number.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to assume one good chat was an invite to make this more than a one time talk,” you laugh as you type your number in her phone and give yourself a quick ‘Not Weiss Schnee’. Your phone vibrates and you are more than satisfied.

“You don’t get to interrupt my misery and then make a break for it before this party gets unbearable.” Miorine looks at you you sharply, but it isn’t intimidating when her cheeks are flush pink. “I’m expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” say continues briskly. “Keep me company.”

Who are you to abandon a woman in need of your help? You respond by immediately sending her the most recent meme that made you wheeze at 3 o’clock in the morning. “Prepare for a lot of made up BS about whoever my uber driver is. I’m calling it now that they’re actually a popular idol but they go under disguise as an uber driver in order to get some normalcy in their life.”

A chuckle, light and mellifluous, escapes Miorine’s lips, “let me know about your 50/50 chance of being right 100% of the time then.”

I’m never doubting the cards again. A thought that makes no sense when you never doubted Aliyah’s divination to begin with.

You give Aliyah an inquisitive but amused look when you both settle in the uber, “so? Is that Lauda guy nice?”

Aliyah looks reluctant when she admits, “he wasn’t as bad as I thought he would be. He’s pretty serious but he cares a lot for his family.” There is a strong ‘but I don’t want to tell my parents they were right, the guy they’re trying to set me up with is actually a decent guy.’ “But what about you? I lost track of you for a bit. Who was that you were talking to? I didn’t get a good look at her.”

You grin, grip tightening on your phone, “yeah, pretty sure I just got a date with the prettiest girl in the room.”

Your friend perks up in excitement. It shouldn’t be a surprise for either of you, Aliyah’s readings always come true. “What’s her name?”

“Miorine Rembran,” you answer offhandedly as you see you already received a message from the woman in question, demanding you to not change her contact to Weiss Schnee. You chuckle and quickly reply that she’ll have buy your compliance by agreeing to meet up soon. Dinner and a movie is too awkward and restrictive. ‘You ever been to a cooking class? Because there’s a class I’ve been wanting to take and they let you bring a plus one’ you thumb out onto your screen. “She’s the daughter of Nor-”

“Miorine Rembran.” Aliyah’s eyes look like they’re going to bulge out of her sockets. “Miorine Rembran,” she wheezes. “The only daughter of the president of the Benerit Group?!”

Your jaw goes slack. The president of the Benerit Group. The guy Chuchu curses vehemently whenever he is on the news.

Your uber driver whips their head at the both of you when they stop at a red light. “You chatted up that Miorine Rembran?!”

#look she's writing #gundam x reader #miorine rembran #miorine x reader #writer's block works hard but i struggle harder TAT #me writing at my worst

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toplinetommy · 3 years ago

Text

Now That I Need You - Pierre-Luc Dubois

a/n: thank you to @antoineroussel for organizing the summer fic exchange!! i had so much fun writing this and being a part of the writing community here as a whole. sooooo without further ado, @senditcolton here is your fic!!! i practically screamed when i got paired with you bc i was so excited to write for someone i genuinely consider a friend 🤍 hope you love it!

synopsis: yours and pierre’s friendship is one that’s always causing whispers to float around the room and eyes to be rolled whenever you both shut those comments down. what happens when the both of you have had enough of those comments? (title from where are u now by justin bieber)

words: 7k

“Aliyah, I am not going on a date with someone named Matt,” you groan, throwing your head into your hands.

“Why not? I haven’t even shown you a picture of him!” She exclaims in response.

“Because, all Matt’s are horrible,” you deadpan to your friend who rolls her eyes in response. “Seriously, have you ever met a Matt that wasn’t a dick? Or annoying? They truly live up to their stereotype and are unapologetic about it.”

Aliyah is quiet at that, tight-lipped as she tries to navigate how to get you on a date, with anyone at this point.

“You know how I feel about you guys setting me up on blind dates anyways, it’s getting old.”

You’re right, she realizes. As you’ve been going on a blind date a week at this rate, none of them turning into a second date or even into a friends with benefits situation. There’s an understanding on why she, and all of your other friends, want you to get into a relationship, but you’re more than fine with always being the fifth wheel and going home to an empty apartment. They don’t necessarily see that though - how you’re not even thinking about how you’re always the only one dateless at your bi-weekly brunches, or at Jets games, or how it’s always someone’s else’s boyfriend picking you up on your girls’ nights.

The conversation gets dropped as you continue your walk down the streets of busy downtown Winnipeg, the strong gusts of wind sending shivers up your arms. The sounds of rush hour traffic fill your ears as you make it to your destination a few blocks down. Everyone’s already there it seems, as the two of you make your way through the small crowd to where everyone is occupying two booths next to one another.

The crowd cheers at your arrival, an inside joke as to how you two seem to always be the last to arrive at anything. You catch Pierre’s eye first, your body instantly gravitating towards him as he makes barely enough room for you to squeeze on the edge of the cushioned seat. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his armpit and you squeal at his actions with a giggle.

He’s always been affectionate with you, as he keeps his arm thrown around you for the next little while as the two of you catch up. He tells you a story from their recent road trip and how he’s still trying to figure out who his permanent seat buddy is going to be. You update him on work and your grad school applications, to which he gives you a reassuring squeeze on your neck when you talk about the anxieties that come along with the process.

Drinks start to flow, ones you’re not entirely too sure who’s even ordering, but you drink them with a smile on your face. Time moves rather quickly, the crowd starting to thin around you while your large, bruly group of hockey players and mutual friends remains intact. You’ve moved spots in the booth, Pierre giving up his seat and opting to stand next to you instead.

Kyle has the majority of your attention, with him getting your opinions on what to do for his and Ally’s anniversary coming up later this month. He’s got your heart swelling and your eyes are shining in a way that shows how much you love hearing about your friends’ happy relationships. He’s in the middle of telling you about how he's deciding between getting her one of those love-lock bracelets or a new smart watch.

“I’m actually with my girl,” a very distinct and firm, French-Canadian accent says next to you, the sound waves of the words pulling your attention away from Kyle. Your eyebrows knit as your head turns towards Pierre, because you are very much not ‘his girl’, his hand falling to rest on your shoulder softly. The girl in front of him frowns, a wrinkle between her eyes as she pouts and turns around swiftly before disappearing into the crowd.

With that, Pierre shoots you a knowing look as you make room for him next to you for him to sit. His hand slides from where it was once on your shoulder down to your jean clad thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“She could not catch a hint, sorry,” he apologizes, answering your question before you could even ask.

“That’s what friends are for,” you joke, resting your hand atop of his before intertwining your fingers with his, knowing that the small action will help keep his story straight for the remainder of the night. You focus back on Kyle once more, telling him to go with the bracelet and not the watch, noting that he can get that for Ally when her birthday comes up, Pierre listening in himself. The warmth in your stomach from where his hand is still intertwined with yours goes ignored, letting yourself believe that he hasn’t moved it due to the alcohol in his system.

As the minutes pass and more alcohol is consumed, you find yourself slowly beginning to slouch into Pierre’s side, using his much larger body as a sort of pillow. Your eyelids start to get heavy and your speech slows dramatically as it’s getting harder to focus on anything but how if you leave now, you’ll be in your bed in no longer than 15 minutes.

Pierre nudges your side, getting you to look up at him, but he’s not looking at you and instead lets the table now he’s going to take you home. You wordlessly follow him through the crowd of people and outside as he orders an Uber.

Pierre gets thrown into an intense back-to-back against Denver and Minnesota, the games getting tougher and closer as the playoff race gets tighter. It leads to you not seeing much of your friend, with him at the rink, training, getting to know his teammates and the city better, and resting. That causes you to go on a string of first dates with guys Aliyah and the rest of your friends have set you up with, all of them having the same outcome as they always do.

That’s what leads you to finally sit Aliyah down to tell her to cut out the first dates, but she and your other girlfriends have other ideas as they go on and on about the perfect guy at dinner. They don’t give you any details about the mystery guy but you do make sure to inform them of how your last blind date went.

“Andres just kept talking about his job and the ‘sick view’ he has from his office,” you mock. “Then he had the audacity to make the same comment about the view from his apartment! Even after I made it very clear I was not interested.”

They’re silent at that, feeling somewhat defeated that none of the guys have worked out for you yet.

“I know you guys have good intentions, trust me,” you start, trying to lighten the mood. “I just don’t see why it needs to be a big deal.”

Pierre rolls around a few days after his road trip, meeting up with you and your friends at brunch one Sunday morning. He smiles cheekily at you as he sits next to you, noting that this is one of those brunches where all the girls are accompanied by their boyfriends. You’re tucked into his side, a little cold from the wind breezing through the few open windows out to the patio. A few looks are thrown your way from some of the girls, one’s you’re all too familiar with and ones you ignore as you straighten your back.

The brunch turns boozy quickly, as you finish your third and fourth mimosa’s rather quickly, that twinkle in your eye Pierre’s all too familiar with starting to shine. The one that knows the alcohol is starting to get to you and reminding him that it’s his time to stop drinking to keep an eye on you.

Once brunch ends, the group decides to walk to the nearby park to enjoy the uncharacteristically warm weather for this time of year. With a small whine of your cold arms, Pierre is shrugging his thick, nylon bomber jacket and guiding your arms through the too-large arm holes for you.

You and Pierre end up separating yourself from the group, walking shoulder-to-shoulder along the pathways until a bench is spotted. You pull his muscular frame down next to you, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

Your night was long and the early morning brunch coupled with alcohol is already making you tired even if it’s barely noon.

You thought the days of your friends setting you up were behind you, but now here you are, nervously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel of your car as you turn into the parking garage closest to your destination. You shoot off a text to your group chat, letting them know that you made it and that if you go missing it’s one hundred percent on them. That causes an influx in laughing face emojis alongside a few devil faces. You roll your eyes as you stuff your phone back into your purse, entering the casual french bistro.

Your feet stop moving underneath you as your breath hitches in your throat. There, in front of you a few tables down the aisle is your bruly, tattooed, best friend. He sits there, fingers twiddling atop the table as he moves his right hand to scratch at his jaw. He catches your eye then, his hand freezing, and a chuckle-like-scoff erupting from his chest.

Breathing a sigh of relief, your feet resume their path to the table, sliding into the chair next to him with an exasperated smile.

“Did you know about this?”

“I swear I didn’t,” he laughs, still utterly shocked that his friends set him up on a blind date that is quite literally not a blind date. It’s quiet for a brief moment after that, both of you unsure on the exact reason why your mutual friends pulled this stunt. The quiet air is a little awkward as you let out a small laugh, thinking back to how Aliyah gave you no information on her infamous ‘friend of a friend’.

“Aliyah and everyone has been so far up my ass about dating lately,” you start nervously with a roll of your eyes, your gaze slowly turning to your friend. Your eyes linger over his arms, the faded Saint Laurent shirt he loved so much showing off the time he’s put into the gym and the money he’s put into the artwork littering his arms. His beard is the most up-kept you think you’ve ever seen and you smile softly before continuing.

“I really didn’t know this was her intention. If I did I would’ve stopped her, I promise,” you start to ramble, the embarrassment of being set up with your best friend starting to come to the front of your mind.

Pierre stops you before you start spiraling, though, grabbing one of your flailing hands, “Hey, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s a nice surprise to see you and very relieving that I’m not sitting here making awkward small talk with a random girl.”

His words calm you, the waitress interrupting your negative thoughts as she asks for your drink orders. Your previous conversation ends with that, Pierre telling you about Georgia’s visit to the vet the other day. The two of you enjoy your meal over small talk and plenty of jokes, the thought of how this started out as a ‘date’ completely erased from your mind until Pierre clears his throat as he drops his fork onto his now empty plate.

“So, I had an idea.”

“Because, that’s always good.”

“Hear me out, your friends won’t stop asking you about your dating life, and the guys won’t stop chirping me about it either, and neither of us are even interested in dating, so we should just pretend we actually hit it off and that whatever they think is going on between us is true,”

“Like, pretend we’re dating?” you ask, waiting to see if you were both thinking the same thing.

“Yeah, I don’t see any harm in it. We just start hanging around more at group functions and talking about all the cute, coupley things we do. I can even get you in with some of the girlfriends and you can actually come to games,”

“Yeah, because that all seems easy,” you think aloud, interrupting him. It very much seemed easier said than done to you, positive that there would be a slip up somewhere and a string of embarrassing and anxiety inducing conversations on why you even did it in the first place.

“We really don’t have to change our dynamic much,” Pierre shrugs, leaning back into his chair. “I mean, we’re already pretty close and we don’t have to fabricate some story of how we met. We’ll just tell them that their meddling actually worked.”

“You really thought all of this out, huh?” You ask. The wheels in your head start to spin as you think of finally not having your friends asking about your dating life every chance they get. You ponder the thought further, unsure of what this could potentially do to your friendship if anything bad were to happen.

“You don’t have to agree, obviously.”

And against better judgement and no more thought, you do.

You’re basically thrown into life after that night, work getting busy as it’s the time of year where everyone is buying and selling their houses. On top of that, you’ve thrown yourself into studying for your grad school prep exams, all the while still trying to narrow down schools to apply to.

You’re in the middle of creating a spreadsheet to help you with laying out the major information like tuition, the location, and test score requirements for schools when the shrill of your phone ringing startles you.

Low and behold it’s Pierre’s name scrolling across the top of your phone and you slide to answer it, putting it on speaker.

“Hey,” Pierre shouts into the phone, his voice still sounding smooth and sweet with the loudness of it. “You wanna come out to Nik’s?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, running your tongue along your upper lip in thought. “I’m kind of in a groove looking at grad programs.”

“C’mon,” Pierre starts, and you can see his face through the phone with his tone, knowing that the corners of his lips are turning into a smirk. “You deserve a break and you have plenty of time to do that before you have to make a final decision.”

He’s right, grad applications aren’t due until the fall, but you just want to be more prepared than you were when you first started your bachelor’s all those years ago. He hears your breathing along with your fingers tapping along your keyboard.

“Come out to Nik’s, I’ll order you an Uber,” Pierre tries to convince you. “Besides it’s really just a few of the guy’s playing Fortnite and poker. Just your type of scene.”

It really is, you think, not one for always needing the glitz and glam of the party lifestyle that usually comes attached to a professional athlete's life. You agree to pop in, but only if he saves you a seat at the table. He promises he’ll keep the seat next to him warm and you’re hanging up and on your way not too much longer.

Nik’s apartment is nice, it’s only a few blocks down from Pierre’s building so you know the area well enough. It’s spacious and you can tell his girlfriend did all the decorating with the amount of plants on the balcony and on the tables in the living room. Pierre spots you before you spot him, putting his cards down and pouring you a drink. You take a seat next to him at the dining room table that’s doubling as the poker table. Deciding not to play right away, you sit and watch Pierre and the rest of the guys, trying your best to not give anything away when he gets dealt a good hand.

His chair scoots closer to you as the round goes on, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, causing you to look up at him. You’re a little confused by the display of affection before he’s leaning over to whisper in your ear,

“Gotta convince them we’re actually together now,” he whispers as his lips move along your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine. The lightbulb goes off in your head then, completely forgetting about the arrangement the two of you agreed on a few nights prior. He lays a kiss on your cheek when he pulls away, your cheeks heating up as you avoid the gaze from the guys around the table.

It’s then you reach to wrap your hand around the bicep closest to you, your hand skating down to hold his in your lap. The looks continue as the night goes on, and especially when you finally decide to join the game, both of you playing one handed as your hands stay intertwined.

It’s not until a few hours later that the whispers start. Pierre had taken a break for a few rounds, letting Adam take his spot at the table. He hadn’t left you, though, instead standing behind you, his figure towering over your sitting frame, his arms thrown around your shoulders as he cheered you on.

“Hey! No outside help,” Nik exclaims when Pierre’s leaned down to whisper in your ear one too many times, a giggle passing through your lips. Pierre rolls his eyes, ready to chirp him but a voice from behind you beats him to it.

“Luc, did you finally get the balls to ask your girl out?”

Both of your heads turn to the anonymous voice, seeing that Josh is the culprit. There’s not enough time for you to unpack those words, your eyebrows knitting at the true meaning.

“Yeah, I did, actually,” Pierre shouts back, his voice cutting through the room and his hands tightening on the meat of your shoulders. All eyes are on the two of you as cheers and chirps erupt around you. It’s then, you think, what the hell did you just get yourself into.

It’s not until a few days later that the news of your relationship is circulating your entire friend group along with the entire Jets roster. You don’t see any of them for a while, which you're thankful for, as you and Pierre fine-tune any details about your so-called relationship, knowing you’ll be thrown into the ringer once you’re with them.

It’s another one of those bi-weekly brunches where you guys make your so-called official outing as a couple, the two of you making a show to show up late, hand-in-hand to the restaurant. You’re surprised with the lack of chirps made at your expense, and even more surprised no one’s even batted an eye where Pierre’s pale hand is lightly resting on your thigh.

You feel defeated, really, unsure as to why when you’d show up as the only single one to these brunches, scenes were always made, but now that you have someone pressed against your side, it’s like they all think it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Everyone is waiting on their check when Shawn, Emma’s boyfriend, fires off the first question.

“So, you guys’ finally got together, huh?”

Emma scolds her boyfriend the second the words leave his mouth.

“Yeah, just took a little push from our friend’s is all,” you smile sweetly, eyes floating from Pierre’s over to Aliyah where she’s sat a few seats over.

“Are you bringing him to Sophie’s wedding then?”

Sophie was the only other girl in your internship program two summers ago, something that inevitably made you thicker than thieves throughout the program. But she had been on her way back to school in the States when the summer had ended, and your friendship became one where you would intermittently checked up on the other throughout the year.

Even with Sophie being from Memphis, her wedding was still going to be in Winnipeg due to complicated family circumstances and a Canadian fiancé. You’d been so busy with everything going on that you completely forgot she would be back in Winnipeg at the end of the month for her wedding.

Come to think of it, the RSVP is still sitting untouched on your side table in your living room, the part about a plus-one being left blank.

“He might have a game, I haven’t thought-'' you start, your brian getting fuzzy as you try to come up with an excuse.

“When is it?” Pierre interrupts, pulling his phone out to pull up his calendar to cross reference the date Shawn tells him. “I might be able to go depending on if we make the playoffs.”

He seems to be reassuring you more than really answering the question for anyone else at the table. It’s a little overwhelming thinking that you’re still going to be in this relationship of sorts with him in a month. You hadn’t really thought of the future of this whole plan, just happy to finally get your friends off your back for the time being.

As you and Pierre hop into his Audi to head back to his apartment, you're more quiet than usual, letting Pierre take aux and listening to him mumble the lyrics.

“You doing okay?” Pierre asks, eyes flicking over to your frame in the passenger seat.

You hum out a yes, picking up your phone from your lap to avoid any type of emotional conversation with your best friend. Pierre pulls into his parking garage soon after, parking in his usual spot. He takes his time putting the car in park and pretends to clean a smudge on the LED screen as he waits for you to open up.

“I don’t think I thought through what this set up really entailed,” you huff out, moving your body around to cross your legs underneath you. “In my head we were just going to like, hold hands in front of our friends and say we go on dates and hang out all the time, and now everyone’s like are you bringing him to Sophie’s wedding and when you finally got the balls to ask me out.

With your agreement, you finally check the plus-one box on Sophie’s wedding invite and send it back to her. The wedding’s still not for another month, so you have plenty of time to wrap your head around the situation you’ve found yourself in. You’re not even positive Pierre will be able to tag along with the way their possible playoff schedule is still a mystery to everyone.

The Jets sit four points out of a playoff spot, that last spot a close battle between them and Nashville. The battle between those two teams is even more intense as they’re scheduled to play each other as their second to last game of the regular season. It’s a home game that you’ve been invited to, your name on a seat in the Better Halves box, a seat that’s becoming all too comfortable as you sit in those seats for their season ending home-stand.

His name is draped across your back, as you cheer from your seat. It’s a tough game, and the boys just really aren’t playing the game they need to be playing in order to beat another team that finds themselves in the same position. In the end, they take a loss, one that puts the fans decked out in white in their seats as their playoff dreams seemingly come to an end.

It’s slow making your way down to the locker room to see Pierre and the other guys. When you see him, his tie is simply draped around his neck rather than tied properly, and his hands keep running through his hair and over his face as he makes his way over to you.

His arms instantly wrap around your, yours sliding around his waist to hold him closely. With only having been friends for the better part of a year, this is uncharted territory for you. He holds you there for a few moments, the chatters of affirmations and sounds of little kids go quiet around you.

His large hands splayed across your back warm you, his fingers trailing over the delicate stitching of his number and name on your back. When he pulls away, words remain unspoken between you as he lips press to the crown of your forehead. His lips stay there for a while, both of your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling of his lips on you.

Your hands intertwine as you make your way to the parking garage, and for the entirety of that walk you forget you’re even doing it for show. Rather, your thumb brushes against the back of his hand in a comforting manner, because that’s simply what he needs. Over the duration of your friendship, you quickly learned that physical touch was the best way to comfort him in these moments.

The ride to what you assume is his place is somber and quiet, one where your hands stay intertwined over the gearshift as he changes gears driving through the city. It’s kind of funny you think, the way your hand is in the way of his driving ability. You find yourself watching him as he drives, the colorful street lights illuminating his pale skin. His beard’s gotten long, the red coming out in full force as the hair there starts to curl tightly. You’d never admit to him, but he always looked the best when he grew his beard out. You wonder if the season’s impending end coupled with the official start of summer is around the corner, if he’s planning on shaving it when he gets ready to head back to Montreal.

Montreal.

Suddenly, your eyes are trailing over every detail of his face as you remember that fateful bit of information. He’s in Winnipeg now, but soon enough he’ll be catching a flight or making the cross-country road trip back to his parents and sister and all of his childhood friends. It’s almost like Pierre senses your mood change, squeezing your hand tightly in his as he pulls onto his street.

The corners of your lips slightly upturn at the small action, the way he puts his own emotions in this moment behind yours to make sure you’re feeling the best you can.

The walk up to his apartment is still quiet, until his front door is being pushed open and the sounds of his dog's feet scrambling across the hardwood floors fills your ears and puts a smile on your faces. He’s quick to sit on the couch, where the dogs follow and smother him in kisses. He’s got that wide grin that reaches up to his eyes on his face, one you love to see as you watch him, stuck in your place a few feet away as you admire him.

“Sorry about tonight,” you whisper when he stands back up.

“Don’t be,” he shrugs, moving past you without a second thought. You catch his wrist with your hand at that. Your friendship with him is bigger than just not talking things through, no matter how big or small.

You can see his body deflate as he turns around to look at you, already knowing that he’s better than just shrugging his feelings off like they’re nothing.

“You know you played amazingly, and so did the team. Sometimes things don’t go your way,” you say, hoping to ease his mind that you know is racing with every minor mistake he’s made the past few games.

“I know,” he hums. “It’s just always hard, ya know? My season will end in a few days but other people get to keep playing. It’s getting old.”

“You’re still young, Luc, and you’re on a crazy talented team. The time will come.”

He nods his head in understanding at that, knowing there isn’t music to say over a lost hockey game. He’s never truly missed the playoffs as a professional player, so the early start to the summer for him is abnormal.

You’re about to ask what you can do to keep his mind off the game, but it’s like he reads your mind as he wordlessly drags you to his bedroom. He throws a t-shirt and a pair of shorts at you, pushing you towards his bathroom to change. You giggle at his actions, and return to see him in bed, TV remote in hand.

“You wanna binge Better Call Saul?” he asks, the show already queued up on the screen mounted on the wall.

“Of course,” you respond, jumping in bed next to him. It’s not a new thing to watch tv in his room, since whenever you first started being friends, he didn’t have a couch in his living room. You lay there next to him, watching the show in silence. His frame is starting to slouch as time passes, his head falling on your shoulder as he lets out a big, exaggerated yawn.

He falls asleep on your chest not too long after, and you don’t have the heart to move him in order to get up and head home, so soon enough you’re falling asleep under him.

The next morning is the first time you wake up in his bed. It’s a quiet morning as he didn’t have an early morning skate, rather the team had a video meeting followed by conditioning later on in the day. Breakfast is shared and giggles are heard throughout as you play with the dogs before finally heading out to your own errands for the day.

A few days later he’s calling you up, his last game of the season having been played the night prior.

“So I guess you still need a date to that wedding in a few weeks, huh?”

And it completely slipped your mind that you even RSVP’d to your friend's wedding with a plus one. You groan in response, telling him the details of the day before letting him know you’ll send a picture of the dress you’re going to wear when you find one.

Your friendship with Pierre leading up to the reading is steady, and your “relationship” with him plateaued as the excitement of you two being together started to die down. As you’re shopping for a dress the weekend before the wedding, your mind wanders to what it’ll be like once the wedding is over. Will the two of you continue this relationship throughout the summer? You tell yourself you can’t, knowing that a relationship through an offseason is a big deal.

You’re spiraling in the dressing room as you try on dress after dress, none of them seeming to do the job. Every dress you come across seems to have one tiny detail that throws you off until your eyes land on a rust colored, satin wrap dress with a delicate floral pattern along it.

The dress almost makes you forget about all the ifs and the unknown of your arrangement with Pierre. You snap a pic of the material, sending it to Pierre to let him coordinate his suit with your dress. As you go to pay, a Venmo notification comes through from the man himself, a text following telling you the dress is on him.

It makes your heart race and your skin get warm, the action being one that’s out of the normal for the two of you.

The wedding rolls around relatively fast as you work busily through the week and Pierre having exit interviews.

It feels like you’ve finally settled down when the weekend starts as you drive out to the ranch the wedding is being held at. It’s lost of music and funny stories and arguing over the aux until you arrive, Pierre generously taking your overnight bag up to the room you’ve been assigned to.

You should’ve thought things through more, you think to yourself as the door is swung open and there’s only one bed in the room and it’s not even a king or a queen - it’s a double. Pierre seems to not notice or at least he chooses not to complain, as he plops himself down onto the fluffy comforter.

“Must be nice not having to not worry about getting ready,” you laugh, grabbing your makeup bag from your duffel. Getting ready flies by with the sound of Tik Toks coming from Pierre’s phone, him showing you the funnier ones every now and then. He ends up sitting on the toilet the entire time you’re getting ready in the bathroom under the guise that it’s easier to bug you when he’s in the same room as you.

His voice gets stuck in his throat when you emerge from the bathroom in your dress, his hands pausing as he’s button up his shirt. There’s more than enough compliments thrown your way before he’s asking for help with his tie.

“I know you know how to tie a tie,” you scold, even though you give in and start tying the knot around his neck.

“Oh, but you do it so much better,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes at that, tightening the knot until it’s resting comfortably at his neck and leave a playful slap on his chest. You slip your feet into your heels, Pierre watching from the doorway as you finish with your last few accessories. He opens the door for you, placing a kiss on your forehead as you walk past him.

The ceremony is beautiful as Sophie walks down the aisle and as her and Tanner share their vows with the guests. They’re beautiful in the way that you can see and feel the undying love they have for one another as inside jokes are shared and laughs are had before they finally kiss for the first time as husband and wife.

The night is a blur for the most part with the focus being on the newly married couple and their happy family. It’s almost like you’re there with all your friends until Pierre’s begging you to dance for what feels like the fiftieth time.

“Just one dance, please,” Pierre asks, stressing the words as he pulls you up to your feet and out on the dancefloor. The song playing is slow, and everyone out on the dancefloor is paired off. Your eyes float around the room until they land on the icy-blue pair in front of you.

The noise drowns out around you, which is something you’ve started to notice is always happening when your eyes catch his. Time slows down as you continue to sway to the music. Your head falls onto his chest, your ear pressed to his chest where his heart thumps in a calming manner.

Next thing you know, the music is transitioning from a slow, acoustic beat, to a faster paced rock song you remember hearing when you were in high school. His hands are still wrapped around you tightly, not letting you move too far away from him as he continues to sway the two of you.

You smile against the farbis of his shirt, content with the warmth is giving you and the support he’s giving your tired body.

“Thanks for coming,” you break the silence, looking up at him, your chin resting on his chest. One of his hands slides from your back up to cup your jaw, his thumb running over the apples of your cheek. One of your hands goes to hold his, your feet stopping underneath you.

“You had an eyelash,” he whispers, his breath hitting your forehead. “Make a wish.”

He holds his finger out in front of you, letting you blow the lone eyelash off. Your eyes close as you do so, and when you open them, the first place your eyes land are on Pierre’s lips a few inches in front of you.

Next thing you know, his eyes are closing and his neck is tilting downwards as his lips land on yours in a soft, sensual manner. Your lips move along his briefly before you’re being interrupted but the clanking of silverware and cheering around you, a sign that the newly wedded couple is kissing somewhere in the crowd.

You avoid his gaze when you pull away, telling yourself the emotions in the air are what spurred his actions before making some excuse about how you need to find Aliyah. He calls out your name but it falls on deaf ears as he watches you find your friend not even a few seconds later.

He makes small talk with the few people he does now at the reception, a few people coming up and asking him who he’s here with since he’s one the unfamiliar faces. Sophie ends up introducing herself to him when he’s getting a refill, telling him about how happy she is to see that her friend is in a happy relationship.

You keep your distance from him for most of the night, using the excuse that you haven’t seen some of these people in months. When Pierre sees some guy in khakis getting a little too close to you, that’s when he decides enough is enough.

Suddenly his arm is thrown around your shoulders and a kiss is placed on your cheek.

“Thanks for keeping my girl company,” Pierre says, eyes focused on you rather than the guy he couldn’t care less about.

“That was rude,” You chide, causing a dry chuckle to pass through your date’s lips.

“You running away from me back there was rude.”

His comment effectively shuts you up, your gaze avoiding his and finding the confetti on the ground rather interesting.

“C’mon, let’s forget it happened and move on,” he suggests, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “We'll spend the rest of the night as a couple and then we’ll figure out everything else tomorrow.”

It’s a good offer, you think, one you’ll be able to take and ignore all the feelings you’ve been feeling deep down in your stomach whenever you’re around Pierre or anytime someone mentioned him as your boyfriend.

The night passes after that, not much time spent as the crowd dwindles and the happy couple makes their grand exit. With that exit comes a conversation you tell yourself needs to happen as you and Pierre walk back to your room.

“Thanks for coming,” you thank as you make it back to your room. “I really appreciate you going along with all of this for so long.”

“Hey, it was my idea, besides, it’s been fun.”

His adjective of choice is heavy and loaded with a lot of different question marks, because really, what does fun mean? Your mind’s racing on how to start this inevitable conversation. You’re stuck taking your heels off as Pierre’s already out of his shirt and working on his belt. The grey tattoos decorating his skin distract you, the taught muscles of his pecs and abdomen sending a warmth through your body.

You lick your lips, your throat going dry and your head going empty.

“I don’t know how to say this so, fuck it,” you throw caution into the wind, startling Pierre with your assertiveness.

“Why did you bring up the idea of fake dating?”

“To get our friends’ off our backs?” He asks, blinking away his confusion. “Isn’t that why you agreed to it?”

“That’s not the point,” you ignore his question. “That blind date was just our friends’ being assholes so why did you want to jump into a fake relationship with me with no plans on how to go about it or for how long we would do it for.”

Pierre’s quiet at that, unsure of how to respond with opening up his heart and knocking down those walls he’s built up over the course of the last few months.

“Why were you always going on so many unsuccessful dates?” Pierre asks, turning the questions on to you.

“Because I liked you!” You admit out of pure frustration, the shril of your voice cutting through the room. “And everytime I think about the fakeness of this I freak out so I just let it go-,”

“Is it still fake?”

“What?”

“Is this all fake for you? The feelings?” Pierre steps closer to you, his hands slowly grabbing yours. “They’re not for me, and they haven’t been for a while.”

Your face is that of pure shock, your mouth opening and closing as you try to find the words you know you’re thinking of.

“It was dumb to suggest the fake dating thing but I kinda thought maybe it would give you an idea of how I felt but I guess I didn’t think it all through.”

“Not really,” you laugh. “I just blamed everything on you trying to make it look more real!”

A fit of giggles is shared between the two of you as his hands encircle your waist.

“Well, I clearly didn’t think it through,” he laughs leaning in closer, his nose bumping against yours.

“You can blame all the hits to head on that one on one condition,” you tease. Pierre hums in response, his hands cupping your cheeks as he tilts your head upwards.

“Kiss me and tell me that I have you for real this time,”

“Baby, you’ve always had me.”

And maybe all those comments your friends would make about the two you “finally getting together” started to make sense.

#pierre luc dubois imagine #alex writes #nhl imagine #summer fic exchange 21

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galaxygeeksunite · 2 years ago

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I Got Your Back (Gigi X Jacy)

Fic Contains: Fluff and Romance

There is no denying that Gigi and Jacy are quite the team, always working together and having amazing chemistry in the ring! Lately any time Gigi is in trouble Jacy jumps in to save her and vise versa.

The day arrived where Gigi and Jacy had a match again against Raquel and Aliyah. They were determined to try and win this one! They were backstage talking to each other before the match.

“I’m getting so fed up with Raquel and Aliyah winning, sometimes it feels like we’re never gonna beat them.” Gigi says.

“Now babe what kind of attitude is that, we’ve got this and remember I’ve got your back too!” Jacy hypes Gigi up.

Jacy places her hand on Gigi’s shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Now say it with me, we’ve got this, we can beat them!”

Gigi grins and bites her lip slightly, “We’ve got this and we can win!”

“That’s more like it!” Jacy pulls Gigi into a hug and lets it linger for a bit.

Gigi feels like she’s melting in Jacy’s arms and doesn’t wanna let go.

“You ready to go out there and get em?” Jacy asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Gigi leans in and kisses Jacy on the cheek.

Jacy feels butterflies in her tummy and she blushes.

Their theme music plays as they walk down to enter the ring, Gigi has the rose in her mouth. They both lean over by the ropes and suddenly Jacy grabs the rose and puts it in her mouth grinning. Then she throws it out into the audience.

Raquel and Aliyah walk out and enter the ring. They hug each other, Gigi and Jacy glare at them. Jacy rubs Gigi’s shoulders a bit. “You got this!”

Aliyah steps out of the ring leaving Raquel to face Gigi. Raquel runs towards Gigi about to knock her down but Gigi ducks. Gigi grabs Raquel from behind flipping her and pins her. The ref counts to 2 but Raquel kicks out. Gigi pounds her hand down on the mat looking frustrated.

Raquel grabs Gigi’s arm and throws her into the ropes, she slams her body against Gigi’s knocking her down. Raquel gets on Gigi to pin her. The ref counts to 2 1/2 and suddenly Jacy jumps into the ring breaking up the pin.

Before she rolls out, Gigi tags her. So Jacy rolls right back in and is legal. Jacy catches Raquel off guard kicking her leg from behind. Raquel goes down on the mat holding her leg and Jacy pins her. The ref counts to 2 before Raquel kicks out.

Raquel makes her way over to Aliyah making the tag. Now Aliyah and Jacy are in the ring. Aliyah lunges at Jacy knocking her down. She goes for the pin. The ref counts to 2 and Jacy kicks out. Jacy makes her way over to Gigi who is outside the ring, she tags her in.

Gigi makes her way inside the ring and knocks Aliyah down to the mat. She puts a choke hold on Aliyah wearing her down. She rolls Aliyah over and pins her. The ref counts to 3! Gigi and Jacy win the titles!! Jacy jumps inside the ring and hugs Gigi tight.

“I told you that you could do it!” Jacy says to Gigi.

“No we did it babe, we did it!” Gigi says.

Gigi smiles at Jacy and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She puts her arm around Jacy and they hold up the belts. They take it all in before finally leaving the ring!

They make their way backstage and have a short interview. They tell the interviewer how they couldn’t have done it without each other. The interviewer leaves and they are alone backstage.

“So how should we celebrate tonight?” Jacy asks.

“How about you come over to my place and we can have pizza.” Gigi suggests.

“Sounds good, what time should I be there?”

“How about 7:30?” Gigi says.

“Wait in the morning?” Jacy jokes.

“Tonight, I mean unless you wanted to sleep over then that’s fine too.”

“I was messing with you!” Jacy says while gently punching Gigi in the arm.

They both make their separate ways and then when the time arrives Jacy shows up to Gigi’s place.

She knocks on the door and Gigi lets her inside.

Jacy is wearing leather pants and a black crop top.

“Lookin good!” Gigi says while raising her eyebrows.

“Not as good as you!” Jacy says.

Gigi has on a black crop top also but hers has a skull print on it. Gigi has on black leather pants as well.

“We are dressed alike so does that mean we’re dating?” Jacy jokes.

Gigi blushes, “Some people might think that.”

“How would you feel about that?” Jacy asks.

“I’d be fine with it, how about you?”

“Well I am the one that asked you.”

They both stand there for a moment in awkward silence, when suddenly the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get that.” Gigi replies.

It’s the pizza delivery guy, so Gigi grabs the pizza and gives him the money. She closes the door and goes to sit the pizza down on the table.

“You ready to eat?” Gigi says while licking her lips playfully.

Jacy blushes, “Yeah but I don’t know if it’s pizza I want.”

Gigi looks confused, “I thought you said pizza was fine..”

Jacy starts laughing, “Just ignore me babe I was being dirty!”

Gigi laughs hard, “Damn girl I mean I wouldn’t say no to that though.”

“Is that so?” Jacy asks while getting inches from Gigi’s lips. She grins and then walks away.

They both open the box of pizza and grab a slice.

“You’re cute when you eat.” Jacy says.

“Omg I am not, you are!”

They finish eating the pizza and are sitting on the couch. Gigi puts her arm around Jacy.

“Thanks for always jumping in the ring to save my ass!”

“Of course who wouldn’t wanna save that sexy ass!” Jacy says while blushing.

“Wait you’ve been looking?”

“How can I not look?” Jacy winks.

“You can not look by closing your eyes.” Gigi jokes.

“You know I kinda want you to close your eyes for me now.”

“What are you gonna do?” Gigi asks

“You’ll find out.” Jacy grins.

“Oh come on, please tell me.”

“Do it and you’ll find out, okay?” Jacy smiles again.

Gigi closes her eyes and Jacy leans in and kisses her lips. Gigi doesn’t say a word and kisses Jacy back, wrapping her arms around Jacy’s waist. They finally pull out of the kiss and smile at each other.

“So what was that for?” Gigi asks.

“Well, I kinda like you obviously!”

Gigi laughs, “Yeah and guess what?”

Jacy looks a bit scared, “Oh shit, did I mess up things?”

Gigi smiles, “No cause I kinda like you too.”

Gigi leans in and kisses Jacy again. This time the kiss has more passion to it. Gigi gently rubs Jacy’s back as they kiss. Once they pull apart, they stare into each others eyes.

“So I know we’re tag partners but would you like to be my actual partner?” Jacy asks.

“Are you asking me?” Gigi says while blushing.

“I guess I am, yeah.”

Gigi smiles, “Of course!”

They give each other a nice long hug and then have a cuddle session on the couch.

#gigi dolin #jacy jayne #gigi x jacy fic

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aliyahwritings · 6 days ago

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RAFE AND READER FIRST ARGUMENT IN THE FIFTH CHAPTER OF TCH 🎉 OOOOOH IM GETTING BUZZED JUST WRITING ABT IT 😭 HOPE YALL WILL FEEL THE SAME

#aliyah tch #tch #aliyah (fic) talks #chit chats

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mydemonsdrivealimo · 11 months ago

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Halloween (chapter 1)

Book: Open Heart

Chapter: 1/7

Pairing: Multi (Bryce Lahela x Jensen Valentine (MC), Jensen Valentine x Original Characters)

Characters: Jensen Valentine, Bryce Lahela, Aliyah (OC), Aurora Emery

Rating: Teen

Words: 1266

Summary: A collection of moments throughout Jensen's life, focused on his struggles and accomplishments because of and, more importantly, despite the one relationship he can't seem to let go of. Inspired by Halloween by Noah Kahan.

A/N: This is the most future-based part of the fic, and it actually addresses some hcs I haven't mentioned publicly yet. As I post more chapters, they will go in reverse chronological order, and the relationship in reference will become more clear

Lyrics:

But the wreckage of you, I no longer reside in

And the bridges have long since been burnt

The ash of the home that I started the fire in

It starts to return to the Earth.

The snow pummeled into the ground, large clusters of snowflakes settling on his shoulders and hair. Jensen tucked one of his gloved hands into his pocket as he hurried inside.

He caught the door with his elbow, greeted by the familiar smell of alcohol disinfectant and lemon cleaner. Patients and doctors milled about the lobby as he headed for the elevators. After a few floors, the doors slid open, the floor relatively empty save for a few nurses chatting around the small station just off from the elevators.

“Aw, Valentine, d’you get us something?” one of them—Samara—asked with a grin. He glanced down to the takeout bag in his hand she was referencing.

Continuing down the hall, he replied, “Nope, sorry. Just Bryce and I today.”

“Wow, favoritism, I see how it is,” she said with a sarcastic eye roll, Jensen giving her a quick smile before continuing towards the diagnostics office.

The lights flickered on to a steady, fluorescent glow, Jensen dropping his pile of things onto the center table. The others had coats, bags, and charts spread out here and there, most with patients or out for lunch themselves.

Checking his watch proved that Bryce was five minutes late. He gave him until he pulled their food out of the bag, spreading the takeout boxes across two adjacent seats before pulling his phone out of his pocket. In the time it took him to type out something and press send, the door gently creaked behind him.

“Hey, sorry,” Bryce said, giving his waist a quick squeeze before unceremoniously flopping into one of the chairs, the force sending it back enough that Jensen had to pull him closer.

“You’re lucky I didn’t lock you out and eat it for you,” Jensen said with a quick wave to the food in front of him, taking a seat in his own chair. “M’fucking starving.” He was already shoveling crab rangoon into his mouth, ignoring the steam coming off of it.

“I can tell,” Bryce offered with an exaggeratedly judgemental look. Jensen kicked his chair, sending him rolling away once again. Laughing, Bryce scooted himself back to the table.

He got a grand total of three bites in before he was telling Jensen about his surgery from that morning. Jensen was happy to see him excited about it, especially knowing how slow it had been with mostly post-op check-ins and consults for the last couple days.

By the time they were both nearly done, Jensen had his feet propped on Bryce’s lap, head resting on his arm over the back of the chair as he listened to Bryce talk about his schedule for the next couple weeks. He happily nodded and offered input where necessary, but, as per usual, he was content just listening to Bryce talk, turning off his brain for the first time all day.

The only thing that stopped Bryce was his pager going off, Jensen giving him a sigh and a look as if it was his fault. Bryce smiled and started to clean up just as the door opened again.

“I think my face is still frozen,” Des said as they approached, wrapped up in winter gear from head to toe.

“Not quite Florida, is it?” Jensen asked, receiving a glare in return. Des had only moved up a few months ago, but they were settling into the team just fine. Maybe not the weather, but definitely the team.

“Okay, I’m not saying this on record, by the way,” Bryce said, stopping at the large glass wall of windows, “But honestly it is pretty with the snow.”

Jensen shook his head as he walked over next to him, tossing the empty containers in the trash. “Wow, really? It’s almost like I’ve been telling you that since we were in Boston,” he replied, entirely deadpan.

Bryce gave him a mocking expression, Jensen smiling as he followed his gaze out to the icy Lake Michigan, snow piled up along the edge of the water. Chicago winter could keep even the most dedicated runners inside, a notable lack of movement outside. The trees and ground were white, but the walkway along the water was twinkling with festive lights, entirely lit when night fell.

Bryce gave him a quick smile before scooting past, giving Des a wave before heading off.

“Oh, Tara told me to invite you guys to the Tavern tonight, by the way. We’re going pretty late, but if you get time you should stop over for a drink,” Des said as they arranged their things at their seat.

“We’ve got plans tonight, thanks though.”

“Shit, you literally said you had dinner plans, right? I forgot.”

Jensen nodded and waved it off before grabbing a few charts from the desk, thumbing past a few pages. He collected the necessary things before heading off to grab some results for their most recent case.

The midwestern-based diagnostics division had been his most dedicated project for the past four years. Doing split time for the first two was hell, so many flights and so many nights away from home, one he nor Bryce really enjoyed. But, now, he was content. They were content. Him, Bryce, Barry, and Corn all comfortably settled into a downtown apartment, able to enjoy the bustling city nightlife, events, and opportunities.

Jensen met Bryce at home later that night, Aliyah already comfortably settled in the kitchen awaiting his arrival. Corn didn’t even bother to greet him, too worried about the potential of a chip falling off the counter from the bowl Liyah and Bryce were both picking at.

Bryce greeted him with a smile and a quick kiss to the cheek, Jensen giving Corn a look. “At least someone missed me,” he said.

“She just likes me more,” Liyah said with a smile, Jensen rolling his eyes and shedding his many winter layers on the way to the bedroom.

On his way back, he scooped Barry out from under the bed, holding him up in the air as he meowed in protest. Bryce was happy to give Barry shit for nothing in particular with him, Jensen finally dropping him into his arms, carrying him like a baby towards the living room.

Their couch was dark green, adjacent to their tête-à-tête sofa. The room was doused in cool yet natural colors, light boxes keeping it bright despite the early winter darkness. Their Christmas tree in the corner brought some warmth to the room with yellow lights and a messy mix of ornament types. Out the main windows was the familiar sight of a glittering Chicago night, lights scattered throughout the surrounding apartment buildings and shimmering against the falling snow.

Jensen set Barry onto the cat tower overlooking the street, watching him settle in before returning to the kitchen.

The door opened before he could get there, Aurora and her partner, Z, both entering with dishes of food. Jensen was quick to help them, setting out the food along the dining room table with the dish Aliyah had brought, as well as the filler he and Bryce covered.

It was part of their monthly routine, one dinner where they get together and all make something different. The rest of the night was spent talking and drinking and lounging around in the living room after dessert. And they could do it comfortably. With nice furniture, and with plenty of space for everyone, and no worry of cost or rent or food or just fucking surviving. He was comfortable, with the people he cared the most about, and doing what he loved. And that was all that mattered.

tagging: @jerzwriter @cariantha @kyra75 @gutsfics @inlocusmads @choicesficwriterscreations

#jensen valentine #bryce lahela × jensen valentine #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart mc #open heart choices #open heart fic #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices pixelberry

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