#but i had a rough day last weekend and needed to cheer myself up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sargeant-bxrnes · 3 years ago

Text

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.

[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]

my requests are open btw

click for my master list

word count: 4.4K

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.

“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.

“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.

You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.

“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”

“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.

"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."

"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."

Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.

"Rafe-"

"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."

“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”

Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”

“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”

“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”

And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.

What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.

You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.

However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.

You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’

And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.

But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.

When in reality; you were doubting yourself.

'Cause it's always one step forward

You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.

Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.

Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.

Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.

As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.

Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.

You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.

It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:

“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”

The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.

“I love you too, baby.” you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.

and three steps back

“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.

“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”

“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.

“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.

“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”

“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”

“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.

“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”

You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.

But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

[+18. Really]

“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.

“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.

“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.

You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.

Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.

95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.

But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.

When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.

In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.

Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.

However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.

And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.

Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.

You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet. You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.

"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."

"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.

"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.

You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.

He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.

Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.

So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.

Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.

It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.

And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.

His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.

He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.

He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.

Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.

With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.

As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.

He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.

What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.

To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.

The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.

He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.

But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.

With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.

Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.

And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.

And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.

You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.

You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.

But more than anything else, you were outraged.

“Rafe, you did not just—“

“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”

His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.

But you wouldn't let him win this little game.

Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, as you searched for your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.

"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"

“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”

“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”

"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"

Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.

You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?

But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.

“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.

Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.

Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.

Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Rafe—“

“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”

The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.

Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

Your relationship with Rafe was unique.

Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.

If not for Rafe.

You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.

Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.

He would die and kill for you.

But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.

And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.

While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.

So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.

Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’

You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.

Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.

And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.

Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.

Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.

It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.

But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.

Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.

You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.

And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.

Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.

Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.

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broadstbroskis · 4 years ago

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the wedding date | morgan rielly

a/n: well first things first, i’m gonna give a shoutout to myself, because i started this fucking thing back in august and it’s finally completed (that’s right, it took me 7 months to write just under 5k, shhh, it finally came together).

anyway, since i started this back in august, you can tell i’ve had this idea for a while. it’s morphed and changed a bit but the basic premise has stayed the same- you go home with morgan for a wedding and everyone thinks that you’re the girl he’s been dating for the last few years- so i hope you all enjoy! (also i’m sorry i suck at titles but like i’m not)

a special shoutout to these lovely people who have listened to me whine about this at any point over the last SEVEN MONTHS and some fellow mo lovers because you’re all amazing and i love you, @denis-scorianov, @brockadoodles, @danglesnipecelly, @laurenairay, @hockeyboysiguess

-----

When Morgan approaches you, with what you’ll later learn is only his first attempt to ask you something, you don’t even give him the chance, really. “Hey, what are you doing this summer?”

“Not you.” You quip back, grinning cheekily, ignoring the barks of laughter from Matthews and Marner beside him.

“Haha.” Morgan deadpans, but it’s busy that night at the bar, Saturday night after a Leafs win, and you’ve really got to get back to work now that you’ve finished serving them, so you’re already walking away from him.

The second time it happens is a Friday night, a few weeks later, when you’re out with some friends for the first time all semester. It’s late enough that you’re feeling just on the right side of tipsy, you’re drunk enough that you know you’re going to go home with the guy you shouldn’t, and you’re okay with both of those things.

At least, tonight you are. Tomorrow morning will be a different story.

And then, Morgan stops you at the bar. “Hey.”

“Hey!” You grin back...and then it slowly fades as he just hems and haws. “What’s up?”

“I-” He blows out a frustrated groan.

Your eyebrows raise. You’ve known Morgan for years now, since his first season with Leafs had been right about when you started working at the bar for some extra cash after realizing just how expensive school was getting and grad school would be beyond that. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words. “Alright, well if you can’t think of it now, get back to me later, okay?”

“Wait-” He says, so you give him a minute or two, but there’s still nothing.

“Ok, I love you, but this is my one night out before my dissertation is due later this spring.” You tell him, reaching out for a hug. “You have my number and you know where to find me.”

“Ok.” Morgan smiles a little. “Have fun tonight.” And then you slink away from him, back in the direction of your friends, ready to let loose one last time before the craziness sets in.

The night that Morgan finally gets his question out is a quiet one in the middle of the week. He settles himself into the corner, doing his best to be discrete with a hat covering his face. By the time you and your coworker get everyone settled with drinks and you make your way over to him, he’s caught the attention of one older man, who immediately walks back to his girlfriend when you arrive at Morgan’s section of the bar.

“Well finally.” He’s free of all teammates, a rarity but not unheard of, especially this late in the season. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some service around here?”

“Oh sorry!” You tease. “Did I interrupt something here? Did you want me to call that guy back up so you guys could finish up?”

He flattens you with a look. “Don’t you dare.”

You giggle, leaning down against the bar in front of him. You know how much he loves the Toronto fanbase, but as playoffs approach, the fans are becoming more vocal and more forward with their thoughts. “You want another drink?”

He looks down at his glass, contemplates for a minute, and then nods, so you return quickly with a new beer for him and then smile as you watch him take a large gulp of it. “So what’s new?”

“Ehh loaded question.” He says cryptically. You give him a look. “But hey, you’re here on a Wednesday! You done with your...dissertation?” He trails off hesitantly, smiling at himself when you nod.

“Yup. I should know next week if I’m all clear.”

“And then?” He prompts.

“And then you can call me doctor, asshole.” You tease.

“I mean, Dr. Asshole isn’t what I would have gone with as my first choice, but if that’s what you want…”

“Morgan!” You laugh, ducking your head at the lame joke.

He’s grinning when you meet his eyes again, pleased as always that he could make someone laugh. “But seriously, that’s awesome! I’m excited for you.”

“Thanks.” You grin.

“What’s your next step then?”

“Umm I get to start researching infectious diseases for money.” You tell him excitedly, since you’d accepted a job with the University of Toronto’s medical research facilities. “But it doesn’t start until August.”

You’d expected Morgan to tease you about your excitement of infectious disease-something he and his teammates (among many other people you know) have done multiple times before-but instead, he perks up and says, “So you’d be free, on say, the weekend of July 8th?”

“Why?” You ask suspiciously. Experience has told you not to immediately say yes to this.

Morgan sighs. “Look. I need a date for a wedding back home that weekend.”

“And I’m the best you could come up with?”

“Best?” Morgan repeats. “You are funny, you’re pretty, you’re a doctor, all of which, frankly, puts you well out my league.”

“You’re not wrong.” You agree cheerfully, which puts the smile back on Morgan’s face, as you’d hoped. “But that doesn’t explain why you’d need a date to this wedding.”

The smile fades quickly and you wince. “I was supposed to go with Laura.”

You frown. “What happened to Laura?” Last you’d heard, the two of them were solid. Really solid. Headed for a wedding themselves, solid.

“She wasn’t who I thought she was.” He says flatly.

You wince. “I’m sorry, Mo.”

He shrugs. “It’s over and done with now.” You send him a reassuring smile. “So will you come?”

Well, there’s really no way you can say no now and not feel like an asshole. “Sure.”

The grin returns to his face. “Knew you’d come through for me.”

-----

Morgan rolls up to the airport in Vancouver to pick you up in a very fancy looking Jeep, a far cry from the sporty Porsche he drives in Toronto, and you call him out on it immediately. “I see how it is. You go home and you’re a fancy country boy, not a fancy city boy?”

He laughs. “Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” You tell him, grinning teasingly. “Drop me off at departures, will ya?”

His tone immediately turns serious. “Thank you. Seriously. Thanks for coming.”

Your smile remains on your face, still beaming over at him. “It was nothing, Mo.” It wasn’t, really, and you both know it. You’d quit your bar job a couple weeks early because of this, but you were happy to do this for him. He’d been down about Laura, down about being bounced from the playoffs again. This spring had been rough on him and you were more than happy to do your part to cheer up one of your closest friends.

Morgan hmms, in a way like he’s pretending to be casual about it, but he changes the subject as he switches lanes to pull onto the highway.

-----

Morgan has a whole itinerary for the next few days, prior to the wedding, but promises he’ll take you around to some of his favorite spots before you leave late next week. A quiet night tonight, dinner with his parents and brother tomorrow, and then the wedding stuff began the following day.

Much like his fancy Jeep, his fancy house in Vancouver is also nothing like the condo he owns in Toronto. You wouldn’t go so far as to say that his condo is...edgy, but it’s pretty modern? The house here in Vancouver is larger, sure, but reminds you a lot of the house you grew up in...or well, a larger and fancier version of it.

“Gonna give me a tour?” You turn to Morgan, who’s standing next to you almost awkwardly, as you look up at the beautiful house in front of you. Your bags are still in his hands, and you nudge his arm playfully, reaching for one, but he won’t let you grab it, smiling back at you as he starts to lead you in.

The inside is just as nice, and even though it’s clear that his mom and interior decorator have done a lot of work on it, there’s still a lot of Mo touches too. Each one makes you smile, the ones he points out in his tour and the ones that he doesn’t, until he finally leads you upstairs, dropping your things in one of the spare rooms. “Did I-“

“If the next words out of your mouth are say thank you, I’m walking out of this house.” You warn him.

“-ask what you want to do for dinner tonight?” Morgan finishes lamely and you laugh.

“That sushi place you always hype up?”

Morgan smiles. “Anything you want.” He says, and then, instead of the thank you that you know he wants to say, he pulls you in for a hug and squeezes tightly, before letting go. “Change and we’ll go?”

“Shower, change, and we’ll go.” You correct, dying to get the feel of airplane off you. “45 minutes.”

Morgan looks at you knowingly. “Sure, uh huh.” He says, nodding like he knows it’ll be much closer to an hour, an hour and fifteen, and you laugh, shoving at his shoulder before he makes you want to stretch it out to an hour and a half on purpose.

-----

Morgan’s parents might be the nicest people in the world, but they’re also a little...odd? Like, you’re not trying to be mean, because just like Morgan, they truly are the absolute sweetest, but, like, they just keep smiling at you with this knowing smile, like they know something that you don’t and it’s just...weird.

But they welcome you with open arms, when the two of you show up to dinner on your second night in town, hugging you just as tightly as they hug their own son, maybe even tighter than they hug the son who still lives in the same province as them.

“We’re so excited to finally meet you!” Morgan’s mom gushes, once you get settled in their kitchen with a glass of wine, which at least explains the weirdness a little. “

“You guys too.” You admit. You’ve heard so much about them, his parents and brother, over the years of friendship with Morgan; it’s nice to finally put faces to names, to stories. “Thanks for having me tonight.” Next to you, Morgan nudges you, a grin on his face. You can practically hear him. Stop saying thank you, like you’ve been saying to him for the past day.

“Oh stop!” She says, practically in time with his nudge. “Morgan tells us you’re a doctor now!” It’s said with pride, like you may as well be one of her own children who’s done something great.

“Yeah!” You smile, swirling the wine around a little, and then, because you don’t want there to be any confusion. “Not that kind of doctor; you should still call 911 if something happens.”

His dad laughs and his mom beams. “What kind of doctor then?” His dad asks, and you spend a while talking with his parents about epidemiology and your dissertation- his mom, it turns out, works in a similar field, and it isn’t long before the two of you are rolling your eyes about some research that just came out.

“What?” You ask Morgan, laughing, when your conversation breaks out, and she has to go check on dinner, at his dad’s request, before he burns it all entirely.

“I just forgot how excited you get about infectious diseases.”

“Can’t believe you’ve been out here this whole time knowing that your mom and I both exist and haven’t introduced us.” You announce. “The rudeness, the hearsay.”

“I don’t think that’s how that word’s used.” Morgan cackles.

“Oh, sorry, are you a doctor?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with knowing how that word is used!” He protests, laughing.

You ignore him. “If you even think of keeping her from me when they come to Toronto…”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

“Are you ready yet?” Morgan calls, and you take one last look in the mirror on the wall, smoothing the pleats in your dress. “We’re going to be late!”

“But it’s gonna be worth it!” You sing-song as you descend the stairs to meet him in the living room.

“Is it ev-” He cuts off abruptly, eyes wide and swallowing visibly as he cuts off. “Wow, okay then.”

“Worth it.” You wink at him, brushing past him to grab your purse.

Morgan’s laughing as he picks up his keys, this soft and gentle thing that you can’t help but smile at. “Yeah, I should’ve known it would be.”

“You’ll know better for tomorrow!” You tease, and breeze past him to get in the car.

The ride to his cousin’s rehearsal dinner isn’t far, spent mostly laughing as you keep switching the station from anything Morgan changes it back to. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, you’re both giggling as you enter, flagged down almost immediately by Morgan’s mom.

“Look at you two!” She gushes.

“Mom.” Morgan says dryly. “Come on.”

She smiles at him indulgently. “Make sure you say hi to your cousin.”

“Yeah, of course.” Morgan nods, grabbing your hand to pull you away. “Just after we hit the bar.” He mutters and you giggle.

His cousin, the bride, and her husband-to-be seem to have the same idea, and it’s just as you’re turning away, wine glasses in hand, that you nearly run into them.

“Oh!” Ashley beams excitedly, once Morgan introduces you. “Hi!”

“Congratulations!” You return the excitement. She’s so bubbly and bright; it’s easy to do, even though you don’t know her. “You guys look so great tonight; you’re going blow us all away tomorrow.”

“She’s going to blow me away tomorrow.” Dylan jokes, but you can tell by the twinkle in his eye that he’s entirely serious.

“Oh stop.” Ashley knocks his arm. “And you too,” She gestures at you. “You look amazing! How’d you do your hair like that?”

“This?” She nods and you walk her through it quickly; it’s a look that’s so much more simple than it looks and she’s gasping by the time you’re done.

“Ok, mhmm.” She nods. “I’m getting your number from Morgan later so you can go over that with me again because I’m definitely going to forget.”

Morgan flicks a piece of your hair. “It’s a hairstyle, what could you possibly forget?”

You and Ashley exchange a look. “I got you.” You reassure her as you both laugh at him.

“Men, honestly.” She shakes her head, as Morgan and Dylan protest, but then before you and Ashley can talk any more, she and Dylan are being called away, and there’s promises for you all to catch up tomorrow at the wedding.

“You can’t have her phone number unless you promise not to talk about me.” Morgan says.

“Fat chance.” You tell him. “But nice try.”

From there, you start making your way back to his parents, stopping off to chat quickly with relatives he recognizes (and once, ducking purposefully into a small crowd to avoid an aunt he doesn’t want to see). You feel like it shouldn’t be surprising how nice his family is, given how genuine Morgan is, but each person you meet welcomes you so warmly, with kind words and open arms.

“You must talk about me a lot.” You tease, as you two start making your way to your table.

Morgan shrugs. “More than I’d realized apparently.” You cackle and he laughs; it’s familiar and easy, but then you’re easily distracted by the appetizers coming to the table and fighting Morgan for extra of your favorites-also familiar and easy.

-----

It’s another morning of Morgan waiting impatiently for you, being rewarded with his gaping jaw dropped, and teasing him the entire ride to the wedding, before he easily gets his revenge when you tear up at the ceremony.

“You don’t even know these people!” He nudges you forward toward his cousin in the reception line right after the ceremony. “And you’re going to cry like that?”

“It was a beautiful ceremony!” You defend. You’d been right yesterday; Ashley had easily blown everyone away from the moment she’d entered the room. Their vows were incredible; you didn’t understand how anyone wasn’t crying.

Morgan snickers, nudging you forward again. “God, what do you do at weddings you actually know the people at?” He pauses as you both step closer another, like the idea has just come to him. “Oh man, what are going to do at your own wedding?”

“Bawl my eyes out, obviously.” You say dryly. “Tell my future husband to bring tissues.” You move up, next in line for Ashley and Dylan. “You clearly didn’t get the message.”

“What’d you do?” Ashley pokes him; you guess whoever was in front of you was a guest she didn’t know all that well because they’ve moved along pretty quickly.

“Me? I’d never.” Morgan says innocently, ducking down to kiss her cheek.

“I’m just giving him a hard time.” You agree and she grins, shocking you when she pulls you in for a hug.

“He probably deserves it.” She says cheerfully.

“Wow, I see family loyalty goes a long way here, huh.” Morgan deadpans.

Ashley gives him a look. “Not for much longer, I guess, though?” She nudges him.

“Oh I see how it is, you’ve been married for all of five minutes and suddenly Dylan’s family is better than ours?” Morgan teases.

Ashley blinks. “That is...not how I meant that at all.” She says, but before she can say anything else to you, the couple behind the two of you starts sighing impatiently, and you all realize how long you’ve been talking for. You quickly congratulate her and then move along to Dylan as well, before stepping out of line and moving towards the reception area.

The bridal party was quick to get the reception started after the ceremony, so when you and Morgan make your way over, there’s already a decent sized group chatting and drinking. You both grab drinks from the bar and make your way to a group of his cousins, chatting for a while and laughing along as they’re sure to include you in all of their jokes.

When it comes time to start making your way to your table for dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom quickly, running into Morgan’s grandmother when you’re there, who had the same idea as you it seems.

She lights up when she sees you fixing your hair in the mirror, stepping up to wash her hands. “It looks great.” She assures you and you smile, thanking her. “Are you having a good time?”

You nod, following her out so the two of you can make your way back to the reception. “Such a good time! Everyone’s been amazing and Ashley and Dylan are beautiful; it’s been a great weekend!”

“It’ll be great to be all be here again,” Morgan’s grandmother smiles at you and you return it politely. “Next summer.” She adds, like an afterthought, and you shrug. She’d know better than you what the upcoming engagements look like. You can barely remember the names of the people you’re seated with tonight.

“If Morgan brings me back then.” You throw her a finger gun and she laughs-loudly.

“Oh, you’re a trip!” She nudges you gently, laughing. “Such a doll. Let’s get another glass of wine together before we go back, shall we?”

“I will never say no to that.” You’re pretty sure you still have a couple minutes to spare before you need to sit down.

His grandmother links arms with you. “My kinda gal.” She beams and her smile is contagious, just like Morgan’s is when he’s really happy, so it’s not hard to grin along with her as she tugs you along for another glass of rosé.

-----

The evening’s winding down- the wedding long over and the after party beginning to do so as well. Almost all of the older relatives have made their way home or to their hotel rooms but there’s a few sloppy cousins and friends still going hard (you’ve got some serious concerns how the one groomsman is even going to make it upstairs). Ashley and Dylan keep stealing glances at each other, like they’re wondering if it’s late enough for them to sneak away yet, but each time they look like they’re going to, someone calls for another toast.

Morgan nudges you. “Hey.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a couple cigars. “Outside with me?”

You think about it for a second. Usually, you love a good cigar-and you’re sure that Morgan’s managed to acquire a good one- but tonight? “Not really in the mood, but I’ll come out.”

He grins, a little crooked, and offers his hand to help you up from the couch the two of you have been sitting on. Outside, the weather is beautiful, one of those crystal clear nights with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. He lights the cigar while you continue to sip at your wine, the two of you standing in comfortable silence, until the door opens again.

“Cigars without me?” His brother grumbles. “I see how it is now.”

“Yup, just left you behind on purpose.” Morgan says shamelessly, but he’s already pulling the spare out of his pocket and handing it over.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yeah?” Morgan asks, amusedly. “Why’s that?”

His brother gives him a look, and then, when Morgan doesn’t react, looks over at you, but you just shrug. “Just promise you won’t forget about me once you pop the question.”

You choke on your drink; Morgan looks just as shocked, the cigar halfway to his mouth. “What?” He says finally.

For the first time, his brother looks unsure. “I think...we all just thought...once you brought her home, that was the only thing holding you back?”

“Oh my god.” Morgan says breathlessly.

“I’m not-” You add helplessly. “We’re not-”

“Oh.” His brother winces. “Wait, so you’re not…” He trails off and the silence between the three of you becomes so thick it’s almost palpable. You don’t know what to do, what to say. What he even means. “You’re not together?” He says finally, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.

You can relate. You shake your head slowly, notice Morgan’s doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

“Um.” His brother continues. “And-and you haven’t been-together?” Another head shake. “Wow. A lot of people are going to be very disappointed.”

“A lot of people?” Morgan repeats. “Who...who all thinks this?” But you don’t need an answer to know and apparently, he doesn’t either. The silence thickens somehow; you didn’t think it was possible.

“Um.” His brother’s already backing away, even as he speaks. “I’m gonna go now. Before I say anything else to make this worse.”

He’s gone before you can tell him you’re not sure that’s possible, leaving you and Morgan in the loudest silence you’ve ever experienced.

It’s abundantly clear Morgan feels it too, from the way he won’t even meet your eyes, will barely even look at you, actually. And there’s so much to say here, but well, “You never brought Laura to meet your family? Never let them meet her at home?” Apparently, they really weren’t as serious as you’d thought.

Morgan laughs hollowly, finally meeting your eyes. “That probably should have been a clue, huh?”

“A little bit of a red flag.” You agree. It’d been how many years? Morgan’s tight with his family, that much you knew before you’d come out here and only became clearer as you met them. “Why...why didn’t you ever introduce them?”

Morgan sighs. “I think-I always knew something wasn’t right. And I just didn’t want to admit it?” He sighs again. “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

“You didn’t know.” You tell him gently. “And I wanted to come.” You remind him. “I was happy to!” You pause for a second. “I was happy to come across the country to a wedding with you and your family with barely a second thought. So maybe we both need to re-examine what happened here this weekend.”

“Maybe we don’t.” Morgan says simply.

“What?” You frown, confused.

“You were happy to fly across the country for a wedding with me and my family.” Morgan repeats, with a small smile on his face. “And then you come here and meet my entire family, and they think I’m ready to propose to you, because you're the girl they hear me talk about all the time.” Your jaw drops-is he saying...what you think he’s saying-and his smile grows into a grin. “I think this thing between us has been more than either of us have been able to admit because we’ve had other things going on- school or hockey or-”

“Other girlfriends?” You supply teasingly, when he trails off, like he’s afraid to mention her name.

He nods. “There’ve been other boyfriends, too.” He nudges you, just as teasing.

“There have.” You admit, because it’s not a lie, but none of them have ever worked out, for a variety of reasons, but you can’t help but think, that now that he’s mentioning it, Morgan might have been a part of those other reasons.

He’s back to smiling again when he continues, leaning against you slightly. “I think we owe it to ourselves to see what we could be.”

You lean back against him. “You do, do you?”

“I do.” He nods.

“Little early for that, don’t you think?” It takes a second for your joke to land, but once it does, he cracks up and it brings a smile to your face.

“We are at a wedding.” He grins, nudging you playfully. “Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be ours?”

-----

a bit in the future

It’s one of those beautiful sunny days where the sun is shining with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours.

Unfortunately, you’ve got a huge project due at the end of the week, so while Morgan’s been enjoying the lake all day, you’ve been sitting at a table on the dock, staring at your laptop, tapping away at your keyboard, and ignoring his increasingly annoying calls for attention.

It’s harder to ignore when he comes up next to you, wrapping his wet arms around your shoulders. “Morgan.” You try to shake him off. “Come on, gimme like ten minutes and then I’ll come in.”

“Promise?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say because if you can get this one last thing done you’ll be ahead of your goal for the day.

It works; Morgan sits down next to you quietly, scrolling through his phone for a bit, and then, jumps up and runs inside the cabin, and you jump on the opportunity of quiet to get ahead even further, losing yourself in your next bit of project.

“Hey,” Morgan says casually, and it scares you a bit, his return far quieter than he’s been all day. “What are you doing the weekend of July 8th?”

“I don’t know, that’s like a year away!.” You snap, turning to tell him to stop annoying you, only for your jaw to drop when you see him down on one knee.

“Want to get married then?” He says, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, like he’s been waiting for this reaction, like it was everything and more.

“Oh my god! Are you serious?” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring; you gasp. “Morgan!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Your computer long forgotten in the face of an engagement ring, you throw yourself at Morgan, who catches you easily, like he was prepared for this. He probably was. He knows you better than anyone; he’s your best friend and so much more. He barely manages to slip the ring on your finger before you’re kissing him. “I love you!”

“I love you, too.” He grins. “Are you sure you’re ready to take this jump with me?”

“Of course!” You beam, but it hits you just a minute too late. He’s already jumping in the water. “You’re the worst.” You sputter out at him, purposefully spitting lake water at his face.

He doesn’t even look like he minds. “For better or worse.” He grins.

“That’s not what that’s referring to!” You splash him and he splashes back but before it can devolve into a full on splash attack, he’s pulling you into his arms.

“I mean it though.” He says, kissing you again. “And I’ll tell you again, next summer, at our wedding.”

Our wedding. The words sound almost unreal, too good to be true. “I’ll be the one in white.” You promise. “Or, well, maybe ivory.” You say and it’s hard to kiss Morgan then when he’s laughing so hard.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly fanfic #morgan rielly imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years ago

Text

CARD KISSING CHALLENGE

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.364

Warnings: none; fluff; drinking of alcohol but not too much

A/N: I know... the 'first kiss topic' again. But I can't help myself. I'm such a sucker for that...

Summary: After a rough day, you and your friends are chilling at Yamachang's. All of you start a silly game with an interesting outcome between you and a certain greyish-haired Glaive with blue eyes.

"Sometimes, I could-", Libertus stopped himself, clenching his fists and letting the sentence unfinished while he slumped down on a chair at a table of Yamachang's food stand.

Yamachang watched him and the others. Crowe, Nyx and Pelna, all of them had the same sullen facial expression as they took place in their usual spots. Frowning, he watched the group of friends before his eyes landed on you, who was the last to join.

You stopped at the counter, leaning against it and crossing your arms, "We need five glasses and a bottle of the good stuff, please.", you said, exhausted and with an apologetic smile.

"Something's wrong?", Yamachang asked, looking concerned at the group who seemed to be in a worse mood than usual while preparing your order.

You sighed as you saw Libertus' glance. You pinched the bridge of your nose because you knew what would follow.

"Something's wrong? You really ask if something's wrong?", Libertus said agitated.

But you stopped him, "Calm down finally, will you? It's enough. Your outburst won't change anything.", you said before turning back to Yamachang, "Our Captain, he… well … let me say, he made some questionable choices. It's not as bad as Libertus acts-"

"Excuse me!", Libertus called out and jumped up from his chair.

But you just looked at the tall Ghaladian with a challenging glance, crossing your arms unimpressed about his raging expression.

"It's enough, Libertus. YN is right. Calm down. Drink something.", Nyx said and offered him one of the glasses you had placed on the table a few moments before.

Drinking and the delicious food of Yamachang were able to lift the spirits of the group again and one hour later, the friends were laughing and joking. The Captain's decisions about the new hierarchy within the Kingsglaive were pushed aside till the next week. Now was a well-earned weekend for all of them.

Once again, Nyx filled your empty glass before you touched your glasses with each other to drink the next shot with him.

The warming effect of the booze was already spreading through your body: you felt calmer, everything someone said seemed to be funny and most of the time, you were giggling like a teenager. You were even bumping into Nyx as Pelna told one of his jokes.

Nyx steadied you as you were almost falling from your chair from laughing. He chuckled about your light mood which made him calmer as well. No matter what you had endured in the past, you were still able to laugh, to smile and to be happy. And you were even able to infect the others with your vivid mood.

Once again, Nyx caught himself how his thoughts drifted into a direction he usually banned from his mind. Not because the thoughts were bad - rather quite the opposite.

When he saw you frisky like this, his heart made a little jump. All he ever wanted to see was your smile and your sparkling eyes when you were laughing. Eos became a better place, the world became more colorful and all the bad things seemed to disappear into some shadows when you were happy. At least, this was how Nyx felt when he was with you.

Sometimes, when he thought about you like this, he considered pushing his doubts aside. All the things like relationships between Glaives weren't liked to be seen, or that you maybe weren't interested in him in a romantic way.

He knew you liked him but was he more than just another friend like Libertus and Pelna? Maybe Nyx wasn't even your type of man but then, he never had seen you with someone else. As if dating was out of the question for you. Nyx tried to be close to you and then, when his courage left him, he retreated himself again, cursing that he couldn't speak his mind.

But in Nyx' eyes, the last thing you should be, was to be alone. He wanted to be the one you would go to to seek comfort. Nyx would lay the world to your feet if you would just give him a chance.

"Oh, guys! I have an idea!", Pelna called out, dragging Nyx out of his thoughts while he was jumping up from his chair. He went to Yamachang and came back with a pack of cards.

"No, oh, come on! Not this silly game.", you said annoyed but also grinning because of the effect of the alcohol.

You grinned while Pelna explained the simple rules to the others: The person with the card must suck gently on it to keep it on their lips. While sucking, the card holder must attempt to pass it to the next person.

The card had to be pressed against the lips of the person next to you while keeping sucking. Keeping the card in place until the next person makes contact with it. Then blow gently on the card to release it to the next person. If a card dropped a shot had to be drunk.

It was a stupid teenage game and normally you were sure that your friends wouldn't agree to play it but now, with the right level, all of them played along.

The first round went well. All of you made an effort to play it right. The positions of you all changed for the next round and then, quickly, instead of playing together, Pelna was the first who told a joke to get Libertus and Crowe struggling to let the card drop.

It wasn't working with them. But as Crowe and you were trying to carry the card next, Pelna tried it again and this time, it was working: Crowe chuckled, the card fell down and you and Crowe kissed softly before you two were laughing.

"Pelna! Was that necessary?", Crowe asked, still chuckling.

"No, but it's more fun this way.", the dark haired man said with a charming grin.

You played with the card in your hands, taking the shot to drown it before you turned over to Nyx with a grin, "Ready, hero?"

Nyx matched your smirk, he even felt excited because he would be the closest to you since ever, "Of course.", he answered confidently with a racing heart.

You turned over to him, sucking the card to your lips before Nyx came closer to take the card from you. It was then that you took a look into his perfect, blue eyes you liked so much.

Nyx was able to let your heart skip a beat but the signals he gave you were so ambiguous it was frustrating. On the one hand, you had noticed that Nyx tried to get closer to you and when you tried the same, he retreated himself again from you as if he wasn't sure anymore.

You steadied the card and while Nyx came closer, you prepared yourself to let the card drop. It would be the best opportunity to feel his full, plump lips just for once.

Nyx watched you. Pelna told one of his jokes again but he was barely able to listen to his friend. Your eyes were drawing, your face was so close, your scent clouded his mind and he got himself ready to let the card drop to have the best shot to kiss you.

As the card slipped from your mouth, you met Nyx' lips framed by the stubble he sported. A sensational feeling like fireworks spread through your veins. You knew you didn't have much time and so, you kissed him a bit stronger to show him what you felt for him.

Nyx noticed that this wasn't just an accident. He felt your lips getting stronger against his own. For a moment, his breath hitched in his throat. His mind went blank, goosebumps spread across his skin but before he could react, your lips had left him again.

Libertus, Pelna and Crowe were cheering for the both of you while you chuckled, handing Nyx a next shot. Both of you touched glasses to drown the liquid but Nyx kept you in sight all the time. You, your delicious lips and your enchanting eyes.

One hour and some shots later, you called it a night for yourself. As you stood up from your chair, you were slightly swaying followed by soft chuckling.

Nyx steadied you once again, standing up as well, "Be careful, YN.", he said gently, making a decision within one second, "Alright, I will accompany you to make sure that you'll arrive at home in one piece.", he said, chuckling as he watched you giggling.

You leant against Nyx' side, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the stupid grin, "Might be the best idea, hero."

Libertus looked after you and Nyx before he turned his head back to Pelna and Crowe, "You think one of them will make a try tonight? I mean, since when do they like each other? Months?"

Crowe took another drink, "It feels like years actually. To play this game was a nice idea.", she said to Pelna.

Pelna grinned, bowing slightly, "Well, to be honest? I couldn't watch these two dancing around each other any longer. Obviously, it worked. I just hope one of them will be smart enough to take this chance."

You and Nyx walked side by side through the streets of Insomnia's underground to reach your place. It wasn't far away from Yamachang's and not even far away from Nyx' own place but you were glad to have Nyx by your side. Although you had noticed how silent Nyx had become.

"So, thanks a lot for bringing me home safely.", you said, turning around to Nyx as you reached the entrance of your apartment complex.

Nyx watched you and how your eyes were sparkling, "No problem. It… it was a nice evening, tho."

"Yeah, it was indeed very nice.", you admitted. You wanted to say more, mentioning the kiss again but you didn't know how.

Nyx grinned and stepped forward, pulling something out of one pocket of his pants. The courage had been back, he just had to use it, "What do you think? Wanna try it again? I'm sure we can do that better.", he said, raising a card between his index finger and middle finger.

You grinned, raising one eyebrow, "Ulric, you're so competitive? I had no idea."

"Well, I just hate to lose.", Nyx answered with a lopsided smirk. This time, he prepared the card with his mouth but as you came closer, he let it drop how you had done it earlier. And then, as he felt your lips, Nyx leant in even more. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss before you could back off.

He cupped your face, knotting his fingers with your hair and pulling you closer, working his mouth against yours in a gentle but hungry way. He felt that you moved along. Your hands were clinging to his shirt and you even pulled him closer.

Nyx just broke the kiss as his lungs demanded fresh oxygen. He leant back to look insecurely into your eyes what your reaction might be after this second kiss.

"I- I thought you hate to lose...", you breathed against Nyx' mouth.

"I never was talking about the card. I didn't want to lose another moment with you after I could taste you.", Nyx whispered with a racing heart.

"Oh, is that so? Then, do us both a favor and stop talking.", you said with a grin, pulling Nyx back to you for another kiss.

Nyx was startled. He had just hoped it would work to kiss you again and now, you took him by surprise as it actually worked. So, before your lips connected again, he stopped you, "Wait a sec... y-you mean, you want this? You... you want me?", he stuttered.

"Why so shocked, hero? Or were you just joking?", you asked, half amused and half concerned that he just had made fun of you.

Nyx shook his head as he saw doubts in your eyes, "No! No, I wasn't joking. I just... I... you never showed much interest in me."

"I know. I tried but... It was just... I wasn't sure about your feelings for me. You showed so many different reactions towards me. You came closer. Then, you retreated yourself again. I was a bit confused about your signals and decided to wait for your next step. You're so good at hiding what you really want. But trust me, I would have talked to you soon."

"Really? Why?", Nyx asked surprised.

"Because you… Nyx, you ... you drive me crazy. Every time when we're together, I want to hold your hand so badly. I want to kiss you. Be close to you. Feeling your arms around me. I was just waiting for you to make a step or to show a sign. Anything.", you explained softly.

"You mean a sign like the kiss back at Yamachang's?"

"Well yeah, I... I tried to show you how I feel about you...at least, I hoped you would understand."

"You did a great job. I felt a lot of things at this moment. That was... the kiss was the reason why I found the courage to make this step.", Nyx admitted with a shy smile.

You stepped closer, roaming slowly over Nyx' chest where you felt his increasing heartbeat underneath your touch. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his eyes, "Well, now, where we have sorted this out could you... fuck damnit, Nyx!", you scolded him impatiently but with a small chuckle, "Could you please just kiss me?", you begged before you gnawed on your lower lip.

Nyx watched your moves closely. How your teeth dug into the soft skin, how sexy you were when you looked at him through your lashes. He cupped your face once again, caressing your cheeks softly with his thumbs before he leant forward, "Oh, trust me, nothing would please me more.", he answered grinning with a pounding heart before he kissed you as passionately as he could.

It was the first real kiss. The next step into something bigger between you and the hero with the soft blue eyes.

#nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x female reader #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #nyx ulric x male reader #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy kingsglaive #final fantasy imagines #final fantasy 15 #ffxvgame #ffxv #male reader #female reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 4 years ago

Note

Req: Izuku & Katsuki were soulmates. There was a 💥 mark on Izuku's arm. But then Katsuki got his Quirk. And their relationship soured. And the suicide-bait/dare made Izuku realize that he & Katsuki aren't meant to be together. Because your soulmate aren't supposed to hurt you, right? So the next day when Izuku checks his arm, he notices the 💥 is gone, replaced with a ❄️🔥 mark.

(Oooooooo let’s go!!! Imma preface this with this is not bakudeku! Warning for descriptions of explicit bullying)

'Kacchan!' Izuku exclaimed, spotting his friend on the other side of the playground. He wiggled his hand out of his mum's grasp and ran forwards, despite her shouting after him to wait a minute.

Izuku was excited though!

Over the weekend, his soulmark had finally appeared and he couldn't wait to tell Kacchan about it. When he had asked his mum about it, she had told him that soulmarks could appear anywhere and that they were unique to each individual - they also tended to reflect a person's quirk, which Izuku thought was super cool.

Of course, Izuku didn't have a quirk, so he didn't know what his soulmate's own mark would look like, but when he woke up Sunday morning and saw the orange mark of a detonating explosion bleeding across his forearm, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person his soulmate was.

'Kacchan!' He panted as he ran. However, when his friend turned around, a manic smile plastered to his face, Izuku skidded to a halt and stared at him with wide eyes.

Kacchan faced him, hands held out in front of him, palms up as small explosions emitted from them. Izuku watched as crackles of energy danced in the air around them, and instantly moved to trace the soulmark covering his arm.

My soulmate is...

'Oh look, it's Deku.' Kacchan smirked. 'Guess whose quirk showed up over the weekend! Unlike you, I have a quirk and it's the best ever!'

To accentuate his point, he set off a flurry of explosions as the kids around him cheered with excitement and wonder. Izuku winced slightly at the sound, but gathered the courage to speak up.

'That's a really cool quirk, Kacchan!' He smiled up at his friend. 'I got my soulmark yesterday too! Did you get yours?'

Izuku hadn't meant anything by it - just childlike curiosity - but Kacchan scoffed anyway and looked at him with disdain.

'I don't care about soulmarks, they're stupid!' He put special emphasis on the last word and sneered at Izuku, before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. 'After all, they've got it wrong. If my soulmate is a quirkless nobody like the mark on my arm says, then I don't want him.'

Izuku trembled as he looked down at his friend's arm to find the slightest smudge of green poking out from under his sleeve.

'Ka- Kacchan…' He hated the way his vision had started to blur. He knew how much everyone already loathed him for being quirkless, but it still hurt to hear his best friend say such mean words.

'Also, from now on you're going to cover your arm, Deku.' Kacchan continued, wrapping his hand around Izuku's soulmark and squeezing hard. 'If anyone finds out that I'm connected to you in any way, then I'll burn the mark off myself.'

Kacchan pulled away then and returned to the crowd of awaiting children, showing off more of his quirk. 'Got it?!'

Izuku nodded quickly. When the blonde vanished into his sea of admirers, he swallowed heavily and looked down at his feet, until his mum finally approached from his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Are you okay, sweetie?' She knelt down and looked at him, concerned. 'I was just talking to Aunt Mitsuki, apparently Katsuki got his quirk. Did you tell him about your soulmark?'

'He said he doesn't care about that stuff.'

'Is that why you're upset?'

'I'm not upset!' Izuku tried to smile at his mum reassuringly, but he was betrayed by the large tears that started to fall from his eyes. 'I promise, I'm okay.'

'Oh, Izuku.' She whispered, wiping away his tears before wrapping him in a tight hug. 'Was he being mean to you again?'

'No.' Izuku lied, burying his face in his mum's shoulder as small sobs escaped him.

'Baby, I can't help if you don't tell me.' She urged him, stroking his hair. 'I can always talk to your teachers or Aunt Mitsuki or-'

'Please don't.' He whispered. It wouldn't help anyway; his teachers knew what was going on, and if Kacchan found out Izuku had told on him, then that would make things worse. 'I'm fine!'

Izuku pulled back and wiped at his red eyes, before flashing his signature All Might smile. 'Everything's fine! Heroes don't cry!'

His mum tried to smile back, but her eyes were sad. In the distance, he heard a series of explosions, followed by laughter.

Kacchan is my soulmate… But soulmates are meant to love each other.

☀️

'What’ve you got there, Deku?' Kacchan smirked as he shoved into Izuku and yanked his notebook out of his hands.

'Kacchan, don't!' He pleaded, reaching out to try and grab his second hero analysis book. 'Please give it back!'

His friend laughed and held it high in the air so Izuku couldn't reach. He tried to get past him, gripping onto Kacchan's uniform to try and pull the notebook towards him.

'Oh, I don't think so.' He spoke dangerously.

This wasn't the first time this had happened - Izuku was used to having his things stolen as he was mocked for trying to get them back. He had recently gotten to the point where he had just accepted that Kacchan wasn't going to return any of the items, so had stopped putting up a fight when it happened. He couldn't just do that now though. His hero analysis books were important! He needed it back!

'Please, Kacchan! Please give it back! I'm begging you!' He cried, fearful tears streaming down his cheeks.

'Hey, stop crying!' Was all the response he got before a rough hand wrapped around his wrist and he was pushed to the ground, small explosions shooting across his skin like needles. Izuku didn't cry at the pain though. He had long since gotten used to the feeling of his soulmate's blows. After all, he had the mark branded onto his skin to remind him.

He tried to scramble to his feet but was stopped by two of Kacchan's cronies, who had each put a foot on his arms to hold him down. He could do nothing but stare as his friend moved to stand over him, flipping open the notebook and scanning the pages.

'"The offensive strategies used by All Might and how it gives insight into the true nature of his quirk."' Kacchan huffed, before looking away to meet Izuku's gaze. 'What the fuck is this, Deku?'

'M- My hero analysis book.' He stuttered out. 'I'm writing down things about heroes and quirks, that's all. Please give it back. I'll do anything!'

The grin that appeared on Kacchan's face was enough to turn Izuku's blood cold. He swallowed heavily and stared up at him, apprehension evident on his face.

'Anything?'

Izuku sighed, resigned to whatever fate they chose for him, and closed his eyes.

'Yes. Just give me my book back, please.'

Smirking, Kacchan opened the book once more and ripped a page out, eliciting a cry from Izuku. 'Wait! What are you doing?! I-'

He was cut off when Kacchan suddenly crouched down and hovered over him, crumpling the page up into a ball and holding it out.

'Eat it.'

Izuku froze.

'W- What?'

'I said,' His friend began sweetly, 'Eat it, Deku!'

His companions sniggered from above. 'You want your precious notebook back? You're gonna get it back.'

Fresh tears welled up in Izuku's eyes as his mouth was forced open.

That evening, when his mum asked him why he was late home, Izuku said nothing; numerous paper cuts stung the inside of his mouth. Once he made it to the bathroom, finally allowing his nausea to consume him, he felt himself scratch at the soulmark mocking his arm.

Was his life always going to be like this?

☀️

'If you wanna be a hero so bad, there's actually a really good way!' Kacchan spoke from the door of the classroom. 'If you believe they're holding your quirk over in the next world, you should just dive off the rooftop!'

Izuku fished his ruined hero analysis notebook out of the pond. Really, he should keep his books at home, but he could never bring himself to do it - what if he missed something important because he hadn’t been able to write it down? Additionally, even after over a decade, Izuku’s love for documenting heroes far outweighed his fear of Kacchan, much to the latter's distaste.

'That's not food, stupid fish.' He sniffled as he pulled the book out of the pond, water dripping from the damp pages and trickling down his arm. Izuku winced as his wet sleeve stuck to him, before rolling them up as he fruitlessly tried to dry his notebook.

As he worked, the bright orange mark on his arm shone out of the corner of his eye, staring at him; judging him. Izuku tried to ignore it, but it was no use. He dropped the book onto the stone edging of the pond, watching as liquid seeped out from under it, before he sat down next to it. He held his arm out in front of him and inspected the soulmark that he had grown to hate even more than Kacchan.

We're not meant to be together, we both know it. He traced the raised skin, surrounded by actual scars left by Kacchan's explosions. The orange shone among the mass of silver.

I hate him. I truly hate him for everything he's done. No matter how hard I try, all he does is hurt me. So why? Why are you here? I don't understand. If this is meant to be a destined love, then I'm sorry but I don't want it. The moment I knew it was him, I didn't want it.

Izuku leant forward and held his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Please...

🌙

Shoto woke with a start, drenched in sweat from another nightmare. Instead of his father or whistling kettles though, he had dreamt of explosions, of singed skin and red eyes. He wondered what it had meant.

He panted heavily and blinked as he adjusted to the morning sun that illuminated his room.

'Fuck sake.' Shoto muttered to himself, raising an arm to block the rays shining directly onto his face. However, a dark shadow covering his forearm immediately caught his attention. Eyebrow raised and nightmare completely forgotten, he brought his arm towards him to inspect the mark. 'What the..?'

There was a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin, strings of crimson wrapped around the emerald like vines as the mark spanned the majority of his arm.

Shoto knew about soulmarks and soulmates - they spoke enough about it at school that the subject had been begrudgingly ingrained into his memory. He just… never expected to have a soulmark himself. His old man always told him that soulmates were a distraction and that it was a good thing that Shoto's mark never presented. Personally, he didn't have that strong of an opinion on the topic. After all, life had taught Shoto never to expect anything good anyway - or else he'd be greatly disappointed - so it made sense that he would be cursed to be alone as well.

He continued to stare at his arm as the fingertips of his other hand traced the bolts of green lightning with interest.

Would it be so bad as to hope that his soulmate was a kind person?

☀️

Izuku's back hit the wall with a loud thud. He trembled violently as Kacchan stood over him, his grip tight on his UA uniform collar.

'You bastard.' His old friend snarled. 'Not only have you been hiding your quirk all these years, but now you pull some bullshit and somehow manage to switch soulmates? What the fuck is going on, Deku?'

'I-' Kacchan was really asking him that? 'I thought you didn't want me for a soulmate anyway?'

'Like hell I do!' He yelled in response. 'I'm glad I don't have that ugly mark on my arm anymore, but I wanna know how you did it!'

'I didn't do anything!' Izuku begged him to understand. He really hadn't done anything. He had just woke up that morning, ready to start his first day at UA, when he realised that the orange explosion that had littered his arm was gone, replaced as if it had never been there at all.

Izuku remembered tracing the new mark, a silver snowflake that was half alight with scarlet flames. He had no idea what had happened for it to change, but he silently thanked whoever or whatever was responsible for it. As long as it wasn't Kacchan, Izuku didn't mind who he was destined to be with.

'Stop lying!' His friend suddenly exclaimed, causing him to jump. 'Show me your arm! I wanna see what-'

'Is there a problem here?' A new voice suddenly spoke. The grip on Izuku's collar loosened as Kacchan turned to regard the newcomer, vexed at having been interrupted. Curious, Izuku leant past the blonde to see who had spoken.

Stood in the doorway of the otherwise empty classroom was one of their new classmates - Todoroki Shoto, if he remembered correctly.

...

Who was he kidding? Of course he remembered correctly. The moment he had first locked eyes with the dual-quirk user earlier that day, Izuku had practically swooned. He was, in every sense of the word, gorgeous, after all.

Now though, that beauty, along with his cold stare, felt so intimidating that Izuku found himself unable to meet his eyes, even if the glare wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, he watched Kacchan, waiting for his response.

'None of your business, Icyhot.' He sneered. 'Deku and I were just talking.'

'Really?' A white eyebrow rose as their classmate looked on, unimpressed. 'Seems to me that Midoriya clearly doesn't want to be here. He certainly doesn't look keen to show you his arm either.'

Izuku jumped at that and found himself gripping at his sleeves defensively.

'I don't give a shit if he doesn't want to be here. I'm getting answers, even if I have to beat it out of him!' Kacchan let off a bunch of explosions from his palm to emphasise his point; Izuku winced from the proximity.

'I don't think so.' Todoroki stepped into the room fully. 'I think you're going to get your things and leave, unless you want me to go get Aizawa-Sensei, or maybe All Might.'

Kacchan stiffened at the mention of the two heroes. Sure, in middle school he had all the teachers wrapped around his little finger, but they both knew UA was different; Aizawa especially wouldn't be as easy to fool.

Izuku watched as the two stared each other down, before Kacchan finally tsked and pushed himself away from the wall.

'This isn't over, Deku.' He called as he sauntered past Todoroki and out of the door.

The moment he was out of sight, Izuku sighed heavily as his legs buckled beneath him. He slid down the wall and landed on the floor clumsily, legs extended out in front of him.

He heard Todoroki call his name, but he sounded so far away. It wasn't until a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder that Izuku realised how close his classmate had gotten.

'Midoriya.' Todoroki stared at him with dichromatic eyes that held so much emotion despite his stoic countenance. 'Are you alright? Did Bakugou hurt you?'

Izuku blinked dumbly for a moment, before shaking his head. No one his age had ever cared enough to ask him that.

'N- No, I'm okay.' Izuku assured.

I've had worse.

'Why-' Izuku began, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. 'Why did you help me?'

'It's a hero's job to help, isn't it?' Todoroki replied, albeit his guarded look seemed to falter slightly as he considered his next words. 'Also… I wanted- I wanted to talk to you too, if you don't mind?'

'Wanted to talk? T- To me?' Izuku pointed to himself and tilted his head to the side. When Todoroki nodded, he found himself mirroring the action. 'O- Okay…'

Pleased with his answer, his classmate stiffened his posture as he prepared himself. 'I have no intention of making friends at this school. UA is merely a stepping stone for me to become a hero.'

Okay…

'That being said,' Todoroki continued to stare at him intensely. 'I can't simply ignore you, Midoriya. I saw the mark on your arm when we were changing into our costumes earlier.'

Izuku's eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. While part of his mind was screaming about the fact that Todoroki had watched him change, the other part was freaking out that he had seen his soulmark.

Before he could say anything though, Shoto rolled up his sleeve to show a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin. Sure, it could be Izuku, he thought, but only because it was green.

'I think we're soulmates.' Todoroki continued. 'My mark only appeared today, and Bakugou was bitching about how his had vanished. Plus, yours is pretty obvious considering my quirk is half hot, half cold, so...'

He trailed off, noticing how Izuku had started to tear up. ‘Midoriya?’

'You…' He whispered. 'You're…'

'Apologies if you're disappointed, but-'

In a moment of boldness, Izuku cut him off by throwing himself forwards and wrapping Todoroki in a tight hug. His classmate froze at the contact, arms glued to his sides.

'I'm sorry for not asking first.' Izuku mumbled, chin bouncing on his shoulder as he spoke. 'I'm just- I'm so happy. Thank you.'

'You don't even know me.' Todoroki murmured, confused. 'You might hate me. I could be a terrible person.'

'No, you're not.' Izuku laughed. 'You don't know me either, but you stepped in when Kacchan was bothering me. No one's ever done that before, I'd say that's a good start.'

He considered his next words. 'Plus, if the universe is giving me a second chance, I’d like to think they got it right this time.'

Several more moments passed, before Izuku realised Todoroki looked slightly uncomfortable and gingerly withdrew. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. 'Sorry about that.'

'No.' The slight blush on Todoroki's face was pretty, Izuku noticed. 'It's just… I haven't.' He sighed and scratched his cheek. 'That's the first hug I've had in a while. It was… Nice.'

Izuku beamed at that.

'Well, as your soulmate, you've won a lifetime supply of free hugs if you ever need them!'

The corner of Todoroki's lips twitched upward and Izuku silently thanked whatever force of nature was responsible for allowing him this unexpected happiness.

'I might take you up on that, Midoriya.'

#AgarJelly writes #tododeku #platonic tododeku #anti bakugou #anti bakudeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #bakugou katsuki #tw: bullying #soulmates #soulmarks #bnha #mha

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Bird Bones

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“So, did you guys think about it?” Seokjin asked casually, watching me struggle back into my shoes after getting down from the examination table. He looked a little nervous as he stared at me and I bit my lips.

“I haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He’s gone to Seoul with Hoseok for their dance showcase.” I said hesitantly. The last few weeks had been hectic, with Hoseok preparing for the showcase and me having to tell the administration I was pregnant. Surprisingly, most of my professors were kind about it, agreeing to share notes with me personally on days when I had to miss classes. I would miss out on a few lab credits because they coincided pretty closely with my due date but that was a whole six months away and I didn’t want to worry about it right now.

Seokjin hummed in response and waited till I was sitting down in front of him before leveling a look at me.

“I see and ….he would have to agree too...because?” Seokjin asked pointedly, and I flinched.

It was a loaded question, one that made my throat dry.

We weren’t married. There was zero reason to have his approval to put the baby up for adoption.

With Jungkook out of town , his parents had contacted me again about the NDA. I’d told them to sort it out with their son first before approaching me again , but I knew they were getting nervous. Jungkook was making it clear that he was sticking around and it was making everyone nervous.

Including me.

“Its not... I’m not going to say no if he says no or anything like that. It’s just ... he asked me to keep him in the loop that’s it.” I protested.

“I’m not saying anything.” He held his hands up. “ Just ....remember who he is, yeah? He’s not.... He’s not for you.”

It was hard to forget , I thought miserably, what with everyone throwing it at my face every day.

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

I continued to stay at Hoseok’s place while he was at the showcase. It was better than the dorm for sure and I knew that it only made people resent me more. As a professor in my college, Hoseok had a lot of perks and most of my peers thought i was enjoying them in exchange for sleeping with him.

On the weekend before he was due to come back home, Hoseok called me from his hotel room.

“How are you holding up?” He asked casually and I could hear voices in the background. I wanted to ask him about Jungkook but I didn’t.

“I’m fine. I got my check up and Seokjin oppa told me we could fix a date to meet Yoongi and Namjoon.” I said softly, settling into the comfortable couch and tugging on the phone line.

“Hmm.... fair enough. I’ll let Jungkook know. He’s out with Sana tonight so-”

“Sana?” I felt my breath catch in surprise.

“Oh, yeah. she tagged along....you didn’t know?” Hoseok said casually and I gulped.

“Uh...no.. I mean ...whatever...they’re....she’s his girlfriend, right...” I laughed, sounding incredibly hollow to my own ears. Hoseok would see right through it.

“Fiancee.” He said curtly.

“What?”

“She isn’t just a girlfriend. She’s his fiancee...he proposed to her last year on the Han river with a hundred grand ring.....” His tone was dry and emotionless and yet each word cut to the bone. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“You’re....you’re trying to hurt me.” I accused hoarsely.

He growled.

“No, I’m fucking pissed that this thing , this fact that Jungkook is engaged to Sana has been true for a whole damn year and yet all of a sudden it fucking hurts you because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you... Have I not taught you anything, Dasom?”

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, my breathing ragged. He was right. He was absolutely right but it stung because Jungkook was.... Jungkook was so kind. So ridiculously endearing with his childlike amazement, his adorable possessiveness over me and yet somehow so non judgmental and so eager to be a part of the baby’s life and how on earth could I not like someone who only seemed to want to care for me??

And he was wrong.

I wasn’t an idiot. I had no intention of building castles in the air, dreaming of a happily ever after with someone like Jungkook. I would get through this and things would go back to the way they were.

Just me and.... well Just me. Alone. By myself. The way it has always been.

I took a deep shuddering breath. I wasn’t up to explaining all this to Hoseok. Not tonight when he was clearly angry.

“I hope the showcase goes well, oppa.” I whispered, hanging up before he could respond. The phone rang a second later and I left it off the hook after disconnecting it..

I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness. I had to talk to Jungkook as soon as he got back. We needed a game plan. A clear end to this thing between us.

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

“Hoseok oppa thinks we should meet Yoongi and Namjoon this weekend. “ I said casually, watching Jungkook closely as he sipped his iced tea. He stopped for a second, eyes widening before landing on mine.

It was a late Sunday afternoon and he had agreed to meet me for coffee so we could talk about the dinner. He looked just as good as ever, bright and cheerful. The showcase had gone really well according to Hoseok and Jungkook had gotten offers from a whole bunch of entertainment agencies.

“So soon?” He asked evenly, grip tightening on the drink.

I shrugged staring at the long smooth fingers. Somedays i tried to remember that night. I couldn’t imagine us being graceful, having sex while drunk out of our minds . Had he been gentle? Rough? What did he like in bed? I vaguely remembered the finger shaped bruises on my wrists, like someone had gripped them together.

Staring at his hands now, I wondered how it must’ve felt, being held like that.

I shook my head to clear it. Nothing good would come from going down that path.

“I’m thirteen weeks along now...First trimester is over ….there's not a lot of chance to miscarry and-”

“What the fuck why would you say that?” He whisper shouted and I frowned.

“Jungkook....”

“That’s our child you’re talking about! Don’t even say that word!”

I could only stare at him.

“It’s going to be very difficult for you if you don’t distance yourself from this baby “ I said quietly. And me.

Jungkook just stared at me , his eyes blazing.

“Our baby.... Say it. It’s our fucking baby. It’s not just a baby or this baby. It’s ours. We made it. Its’ going to...fucking look like us, and it’s going to get our traits and ….I just don’t understand how you can be so callous about something so amazing and----it’s our baby, Dasom...” He was looking at me in disbelief and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“No it fucking isn’t!!!” I hissed angrily, my heart beating fast, “ It’s not ours, Jungkook. It’s... it’s not something we should be celebrating..... You and I... we’re a fucking mistake. That night was a fucking mistake and this, this baby is nothing more than an unfortunate soul that’s going to have to share the consequences of our horrendous mistake that night!” I felt tears sting.

I refused to let his words get to me. To make me feel guilty. Jungkook with his golden life, with his perfectly gorgeous fiancee and his filthy rich parents could afford to wax poetic about the joys of parenting but i couldn’t.

I was a poor fucking orphan with a mother who had only cared about what was between her legs. I had to fight tooth and nail just to break out of the mould everyone had made for me,.

“Dasom-”

“No, stop...Just...stop and for once get rid of those rose tinted glasses you have on, and listen to me okay? We’re going to give the baby up for adoption....He or she is going to be raised by kind, loving parents who can provide a stable happy environment . We’re going to stop talking to each other after that. You’re going to go get married to your Fiancee ….I’m going to go and try and build a life for myself. That’s what’s in our future....Not some utopian universe where we raise this child , taking turns changing diapers and weekends at the fucking zoo!!” I finished bitterly.

“Why do we have to stop talking to each other?” He shot back defiantly and i felt my pulse pound.

I glared at him and he just kept staring back at me.

“Don’t-” I began but he held his hand up.

“I told you , I’m not going to do everything my parents ask me to. I’m... I’m trying to build a life for myself too alright? I’m not going to just... I’m not married yet. I’m not married yet.” He repeated and I felt a laugh of disbelief bubble up inside me.

“What the fuck does that even mean? You’re engaged-”

“I was engaged before I was fucking born. “ He snapped, running fingers through his hair in evident frustration. “ Sana and I grew up together. We just...we’ve been told that we'll be together all our lives and its all we have ever known. But that doesn’t mean its too late for us to think about other things...other options...”

“And you’re saying I’m another option? You don’t even like me JeonJungkook-” i laughed in disbelief.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said softly and I felt my jaw come unhinged.

What.

What?

“ I saw you two years ago when you dropped by the practice room to meet Hobi hyung.. I thought you were beautiful then... So wildly uncaring about what others thought and I thought you looked amazing with your long hair and easy smile...I still do.” He was staring right at me and i felt heat creep up my neck.

I shook my head.

“I’m not listening to this nonsense.” i said sharply, reaching for my bag from the chair next to me.

“Hyung knows... Its why he’s always telling you not to trust me.... He knows how I feel about you and he doesn’t want the competition...” He sneered and I felt my hackles rise. Jungkook’s jealousy towards Hoseok was the most irrational thing in the whole world and it pissed me off so bad.

“Now I know you really are full of shit-”

“He’s in love with you. He’s always been in love with you and you’re too caught up in your own self pity to notice that.” He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get up from the chair. “ Sit the fuck down and let me finish.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. I’m not interested in it...” I hissed back and he laughed.

“Nonsense? I’ve never hidden how I felt about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed me watching you , because everyone else has. Why else do you think Sana is so threatened? She knows... She knows I’m attracted to you...Knows that I want-----” He stopped and I knew he was going to say ‘you’

‘ Sana knows that I want you’ .

I stared at him in disbelief.

But he just barreled on, completely unbothered by how upset I was.

“ I want to get to know you better. And fine, even if you don’t want to keep the baby, there is no fucking way I’m going to stop talking to you.... “ He finished.

I tried to gather my sense which felt like they’d been scattered to the seven winds.

“Really, you talk about your fiancee so flippantly....but I heard you had a cozy little honeymoon in Seoul during your showcase...what of that?” I hated myself as soon as I said it because it made sound so horribly jealous.

Jungkook snorted.

“Let me guess, Hobi hyung told you that huh? I bet he conveniently failed to mention that she was attending a different showcase , a whole damn district away? That we only went out for dinner one night and I was back in like an hour?”

I stared at him, thrown . I felt confused and disoriented, not sure what was happening and why.

This had gone on long enough.

I could not let this man do this to me. I just couldn’t.

“Your parents met me again.” i said softly, staring right at him. “ They wanted me to sign the NDA. Did you tell them this? Can you go tell them this? Go break up with your fiancee, tell your daddy you want to date the girl you knocked up while you were drunk out of your mind. And then, once he disowns you and kicks you out of your house and you have nowhere else to go, come see me. We’ll go out on a date, yeah?”

I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. So I stood up. I slung my bag up on my shoulders and stared down at him.

“I’m meeting them on Saturday. If you want to be there, you can. And regardless of whether you turn up or not...I’m going. I’m giving the baby up for adoption and I’m getting on with my life. ” I said quietly.

I walked out of the cafe without looking back.

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

Yoongi sat across from me, hands twisting nervously in his lap while Namjoon poured us some water from the cut class decanter on the table. Next to me, Jungkook looked subdued and upset, eyes darting between the two men on occasion. I hadn’t talked to him after my outburst at the cafe

I peered around the house, an expensive three bedroom flat located in a good neighborhood. It was decorated tastefully and I could tell that even Jungkook was reluctantly impressed by how clean and neat everything looked. I played with the hem of my blouse while Hoseok finished his phone call, not sure what to say or how to start.

“How are you feeling, Dasom?” Namjoon asked finally, flashing me a smile with deep dimples on either cheeks.

“I’m doing good. I’m fourteen weeks along now and the nausea has gone down.”

Yoongi hummed.

“My sister says the first three months are the worst.” He smiled a little and I smiled back, taking in the soft curves of his face and the nervous fingers on the lap. He looked just as terrified as I felt.

“I’m glad you guys could meet with us. We just want to say that we’re so grateful that you guys even considered us.” Namjoon said in a rush, eyes flooding with warmth as he glanced between me and Jungkook. I felt him stiffen next to me and reached out, curling my fingers around his, pulling him closer. I linked our fingers and squeezed lightly. He squeezed back.

“We only want what’s best for the baby, right Kook?” I said softly. He looked up at me then and I felt my heart crack at the light sheen I saw there.

“Yeah...I...I love the baby.” He whispered and I felt a lump in my throat.

The past few weeks, I had found myself hanging out with him way too much for my liking. For some reason, Sana stopped talking to me. She would throw occasional glares at me but she stayed away. Jungkook was conspicuously respectful. Never crossing a line enough for me to kick him away. He would throw that occasional remark that implied he was interested and shrug it off when I rejected him again.

But he also told me that he had always wanted a family first. A wife, two kids, picket fence and all that. He loved kids, had always been the designated babysitter to his umpteen cousins. He loved babies and he wanted as many as his fututre wife would give him. And then without warning he had just stared at me.

I hadn’t trusted myself to respond to that.

The mind games left me exhausted. I didn’t ….not like him. He was funny , sweet and intelligent. He liked talking and he liked listening. It was just hard to enjoy when I knew what he was . A chaebol heir to a fortune. He spoke of his family with a casually dismissive attitude, about how they didn’t really give a damn about who he married and that it wouldn't be a big deal if he broke up with Sana.

But I had to remind myself that he hadn’t done it. He hadn’t broken up with her. And that meant that no matter how dismissive he was, he knew that something like that wouldn’t go by without repercussions. The fantasy of Jungkook leaving his gorgeous girlfriend because he couldn’t live without me was just that, a fantasy.

Hoseok’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

“They’re both too young to go through with this.... Its going to be painful but like Dasom says, its the baby we need to think about.” Hoseok had hung up the phone and he stared at Jungkook, his gaze softening when he saw how miserable the younger looked.

I pulled myself together and watched Namjoon pull out a file, containing all the formalities we would have to go through. /As i heard him explain everything, his eyes clear and intelligent, his tone gentle and kind, I felt myself making my choice. Yoongi and Namjoon loved each other deeply . They leaned on each other, evident in the way they held hands every few minutes, smiling and reassuring each other. They loved each other and they could love this baby.

They would love this baby.

My mind was made up.

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

“You need a ride home?” Hoseok asked casually, two hours later after we had bid goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon.

Next to me Jungkook stiffened.

“I’ll drive her.” He said curtly and Hoseok ignored him, still holding a hand out.

“That’s fine Oppa, Jungkook and I need to talk.” I said tiredly. We did. There was a whole lot of formalities to be done with regards to the adoption and I wanted to talk to him about the possibility of an open adoption. Just in case he was interested.

“You can talk tomorrow. Its already past ten-” Hoseok began but Jungkook laughed, loud and jarring.

“What you think I’ll have my way with her and knock her up? Bit too late to worry about that right?” Jungkook drawled next to me and I felt my eyes widen in shock.

“What the- Jungkook are you crazy? Apologize!!” I hissed but he glared back at Hoseok defiantly.

Hobi chuckled a bit.

“You’re really asking to get your ass kicked Kook-ah... I’d tone down the blatant disrespect if I were you....” He said , eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Maybe I will, if you stop lying to Dasom about how you really feel about her.”

I lost it entirely, turning around to shove him away.

“Jungkook what the fuck?!” I shouted but he gripped my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again.

“Tell her hyung....tell her how you picked up a fucking engagement ring in Seoul....? How you told Seokjin hyung that you were going to propose when she graduates because, let me quote you, ‘ she’s docile and adjusting. She’ll make a nice companion’“

I froze. I turned around to stare at Hoseok and felt my heart drop at the sharp sharp look of guilt om his face.

I stopped struggling against Jungkook, sagging against him when ice cold disbelief flooded my veins.

No. No , it couldn’t be.

“You-what?” I whispered.

Hoseok stared at me.

“ Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” He said blankly. I felt bile rise up my throat.

“Oppa-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Hoseok snapped.

I flinched when Jungkook’s grip tightened around me , a growl making his chest tremble.

“Hyung , don’t-” He began angrily but Hoseok cut him off, staring at me with blazing eyes.

“You’re always around me ..” Hoseok ground out, “ You’re literally the only person I’ve known and loved all my life.... So sue me for wanting to take responsibility for you and-”

“I’m not your responsibility.....I’m twenty years old...”

“And look how well you’re doing yeah? Knocked up with some guy’s bastard .....Just like your moth-”

I felt Jungkook move behind me and my instinct kicked in. I turned quickly gripping his arms and putting myself between them to stop him from lunging at Hoseok.

Hoseok looked unapologetic as he stared at me.

“If you marry me, you’ll at least be respectable.” He said softly and it was like a veil getting torn, showing him for who he really was.

Someone who thought I was a charity case. A poor , flailing mess of a human that needed his charity to survive.

I nodded quietly.

“Okay. Thank you for lowering yourself enough to consider marriage with someone like me....” I said softly and he hissed.

“That’s not what I-”

“That’s exactly what you meant.” I said sharply, turning around. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Take me back to the dorms, yeah?” I looked at Jungkook and he nodded.

“Anything you want.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around me before throwing one last glare at Hoseok.

Author’s note : Send me an ask about what you thought and I will love you forever <3

#jungkook fics #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut fic #bts smut #bts fics #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook fanfic

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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You (Part Fifty-Three) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Talk of PTSD, hostage situation, shooting, murder, bombing, physical trauma. I’m pretty sure that’s it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 7900

Timeline: Season 7 Episodes 24. Right after part fifty-two.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

As the sun began to set, a specialist came back in with my release form for Hotch to fill out while he talked to me about what the next steps for my recovery were. While Hotch worked on the form, we both listened to the endless number of rules I had to follow. They were giving me top notch pain killers to help with the inevitable constant pain I’d feel after the hospital’s morphine would wear off. I had to take two in the morning, two in the afternoon, and two before bed. I wasn’t allowed to take them on an empty stomach, and I wasn’t allowed to have alcohol at all— no cheating. After running us through the medication rules, the doctor handed me a piece of paper he ripped out of his notepad. I read the name, the phone number, and the address on it while he explained that it was the information of the best physical therapist in the state. He told me that if I were ever going to get better, then I needed to see him sooner than later. The longer I waited to seek out the proper help, or the longer I pushed myself without guidance, the higher the chances got of me fucking my back up forever.

“That isn’t to say that you can’t walk around at all,” the doctor backpedaled for a moment. “In fact, you should try walking around every thirty minutes or so. You can go up and down stairs, you can pace around the house, you can go on walks in the park. But no running, jumping, bending, strenuous exercises, bike riding— anything like that. The point is that you can do the bear minimum so that your back can start the healing process. If you ever start to feel the pain again, it means that you need to stop what you’re doing. You need to go lie down, put ice on your back, and relax. The ice will help with the pain and swelling.” The doctor turned to Hotch, “Your job over the next few months, Mr. Hotchner, is to make sure that they’re not pushing themself at all. If you notice that they’re trying to do something that they shouldn’t be doing, you need to stop them. Unfortunately, it’s going to feel like babysitting,” he addressed both of us, “but it’s for the best.”

Hotch’s phone started ringing. He apologized profusely while trying to dig it out of his back pocket. The doctor and I watched as Hotch stood, put the form down on his chair behind him, and hurried out of the room to take the call.

The doctor turned back to me. “Painkillers, rest, ice, walking occasionally. Got it?”

I nodded.

“That was Rossi,” Hotch explained, returning from the hallway. “Will and JJ are getting married at his place tomorrow night, apparently.”

My face brightened. I thought to myself, finally… The two of them had been together forever. I always figured that they would have gotten married before me and Hotch, but they had been holding off for some reason. Despite having Henry and being entirely devoted to one another, it took them forever to finally do it. I mean, the decision probably came with the aftershock of the day they just had, but still. This was great news—news that we needed when everything else seemed so shit.

“I want to go,” I insisted.

Hotch’s attention turned to the doctor. “What do you think?”

The doctor shrugged slightly. “I think it’s fine as long as you keep up with the medication, stay away from the champagne, and don’t attempt to do any splits on the dance floor.”

The three of us chuckled.

----

When we got home, Hotch helped me up the steps to the porch, then hurried to open the door for me. Just as we saw the living room, I caught a glimpse of Jessica and Jack on the couch, watching a movie together. I smiled. Home. I survived all that shit with The Face Cards just to come home, and I had never been more relieved in my life. As we stepped inside, I looked over at Scarlet’s bouncer to see that it was empty. She must have been asleep upstairs already.

“Mom! Dad!” Jack cheered as he pushed himself off the couch and sprinted over to us.

I crouched down as far as I could go and pulled him in for a tight hug, trying to lift him off the ground somewhat so that I could swing him around. I cringed slightly at the pain shooting down my back, but tried to hide it so that none of them could notice. Hotch was watching me like a hawk, though. My change in posture, my wincing face, and the groan that left my throat as I struggled to pick up Jack, all of that was apparent to Hotch. It wasn’t going to be easy trying to convince him that I was alright. Now I understood why he was always so annoyed with me after New York and Foyet.

“Be careful, bud,” Hotch warned. “Mom hurt their back at work today.”

Jack looked at me as I let him sit on my thigh as I stayed crouched. His index finger curled a strand of my hair loosely. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

I nodded. “I’m okay, little man. I promise. How was your day with Aunt Jessica?”

“We went on a bike ride, then we played soccer with Scarlet—”

“Did you win?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of course!”

“Good job, little man.”

“Aunt Jessica took us for ice cream.”

I squinted at her, but she was laughing and hiding behind a pillow in order to avoid my playful glare. I looked back at Jack. “What flavor did you get?”

“Chocolate fudge.”

“Of course you did.” I kissed his cheek and stood up straight as slowly as I could, reaching for Hotch’s help when I felt my back sting again. I whimpered. He stepped closer to me and kissed my temple to comfort me. “Hey, Jack, Henry’s parents are getting married tomorrow. Do you wanna go with us?”

“Do I get to play with Henry?”

“Duh.”

“Yay!” He jumped forward to hug my legs. I was going to take that as a yes, then.

“Did you guys have anything besides ice cream for dinner?” Hotch asked, but it was more directed to Jessica than Jack.

She nodded. “I took them to Olive Garden.”

Hotch ruffled Jack’s hair. “Spoiled kid.” Well, that was what he deserved, considering we got called away for work at the last second on a weekend, as usual. “Why don’t you go upstairs and start getting ready for bed, bud.” Jack released me and immediately started running for the stairs. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth!” He kept running, though, pretending like he didn’t hear his dad. Really spoiled kid. Hotch dug his wallet out and pulled out some money for Jessica. “I’m so sorry again for today—”

“When will the two of you get it?” She laughed while standing up, gathering her things. “It’s okay!” She walked around the couch. “I love spending time with my niece and nephew. It’s not a job. It’s a chance to help them grow up.” She took Hotch’s money, but then quickly stuck it in his back pocket before he could catch her. “No money, no apologies.” She glanced at how I was leaning on Hotch to offset the chronic pain that was fucking killing me. “You okay?”

“Rough day,” I answered.

She threw her arms around me for a gentle hug. “Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Jess.”

“I’ll see you guys soon.” She parted from me and headed for the door. “No money, Aaron!” She closed the door behind herself.

“That woman’s a saint,” I told Hotch, walking with him through the house. “We don’t deserve her.”

“No, we do not.”

When Hotch and I headed upstairs, he held onto my hand, his other arm wrapped around my waist so that he could keep me steady as we carefully made our way up one step at a time. He was hovering too much. I was completely capable of making it up the freaking stairs myself, yet he wasn’t going anywhere. So, I just gave in. I let him corral me up each step and through the hallway, all the way down to our bedroom where he helped me lay down on the bed. He lifted my feet up slowly.

“Baby,” I whispered, catching his attention. He looked so worried, as if he had done something wrong or hurt me, which he hadn’t. I smirked at him. “I’m okay.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes at me before standing up straight and moving towards the closet to grab a few extra pillows for me. He slid one under my knees, two under my ankles, and he left a third next to me in case I wanted it for something else. When I was drowning in pillows, he hurried back downstairs to make sure that there was ice if I needed it. We were getting an ice machine that just needed cold water to make it run, but that wasn’t going to show up for at least another few days, so he was going to have to run to and from the kitchen every time I was in pain and needed ice on my back.

“Here, baby,” he whispered, helping me adjust so that we could get the icepack under my back. He kissed my temple. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He kissed me again, recognizing that I was just being playful. After a moment of standing at my side, Hotch remembered that he had to get my medication around, so he hurried over to the bag on the dresser and started sorting all of the pills. I watched him carefully. I wondered if he was going to actually keep this up for the next few months or if he was going to forget about our deal back at the hospital and just let me back into the field once I was feeling a bit better. Could he really afford to keep an agent benched for months? I mean, we were barely holding on when he was gone in the Middle East and Emily was still… I don’t know… dead? Sure.

“You know, at some point, you’re going to have to realize that I’m not entirely bedridden. I’m going to have to leave the bedroom sooner than later.”

Hotch glanced over his shoulder and glared at me. “I will tie you to the bed, if it’s the only thing that will keep you there.”

“That’s less of a threat than you had intended for it to be,” I teased.

“Ha. Ha,” he said plainly. I chuckled in response. “Take these,” he told me, turning from the dresser to give me my medication. “I’ll get you some water.” He skipped to the bathroom, and I heard the sink run for a bit before he returned and handed me a half-full glass. He sat on the edge of the bed as I popped the pills and chased them down with the water.

“Tada.”

“You’re sure about going to the wedding tomorrow?” he asked, taking the cup back.

I furrowed my brows. “Of course.”

“I’m worried that your back—”

“Aaron, I’m going to be fine.”

“I said that after New York, too.”

“Yeah, but the difference is that I actually believe it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know it’s my job to worry about you, my love.”

“I know,” I accepted, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I know. But, my love,” I teased back, “I can go to a wedding, and I promise I won’t break. I’ve already agreed to staying out of the field until I’m better, so just let me have this one.”

He huffed at the fact that he wasn’t going to win this argument before getting up to put the glass back in the bathroom, then head to grab our pajamas. He helped me out of my gross, dusty clothes and into his clean, cologne smelling sweatshirt and blue flannel pajama pants. I immediately felt cozy and relaxed. When Hotch tore off his shirt, I could tell that he was considering taking a shower, but he looked so tired, and he seemed desperate to stay at my side.

“It can wait ‘til morning.” He changed into his grey sweatpants then snuck into bed with me. He sighed. “I say we stay here for the rest of our lives.”

I nodded. “I agree.” We reached for each other’s hands, and I tugged to try to kiss his knuckles, but he beat me to it. “Sap.”

“Yup.”

We both stared up at the ceiling. We were silent, both of us just catching our breath, reflecting on the day. I could have lost him again. He could have lost me again. At what point was it going to get too scary and we would finally call it? I wasn’t ready to leave the field yet, and I was sure that he felt the same way, too, but it was something that we had to consider. I mean, we had to retire at some point. Right? We couldn’t do this forever…

----

The following evening was the wedding. Hotch spent the afternoon helping Jack get ready—making sure he actually showered, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and picked out an appropriate outfit. Towards the time when we were about to leave, I caught Hotch kneeling in front of Jack, teaching him how to properly put on a tie. I smirked and continued to spy into the room. I had a bad habit of eavesdropping on them, but who could blame me when those moments weren’t going to last forever? Before we would know it, Jack would be all grown up and heading off for college, and we weren’t going to get any daily memories at all. I had to make them count while I still could.

As for Hotch and I getting ready, I took longer than he did. Considering I was somewhat immobile, I spent most of my time going between getting ready and laying down with an icepack when Hotch wasn’t looking. I was wearing a pant suit, something simple and light. Easy to get on and off. I barely even bothered with makeup because it hurt too much to hold still while trying to get everything perfect, and I just kept my hair out of my face. Nothing too fancy. As for Hotch… I wasn’t sure if he understood that a few years ago, he would have worn a work suit or that brown quarter zip to the wedding, but this time around he was wearing a well fitted all black suit, and all I wanted to do was literally jump him. Every time I saw him walking around wearing just the dress shirt and pants—no jacket yet, I could see his muscles and abs, and I wanted nothing more than to just have him pin me down and fuck me. Fuck. It was weird to think how when I was told to not do something, I suddenly wanted to do it. Specifically, I wanted to do him. I supposed that was just the brat in me, though.

Before we were about to leave, I went to go check on Scarlet in her nursery real quick when I noticed that it was a total mess with all of the toys scattered around. I groaned quietly as I bent over to grab her koala stuffed animal off the floor. It hurt like a total bitch, and there was no good way to go about doing it besides making sure I went slow and easy. As I carefully stood back up, screwing my eyes shut and wincing at the pain on my lower back as I did so, Scarlet cooed in her crib. I tried to smile while holding my back with one hand and her toy in the other. She was staring up at me, waiting for me to pick her up or give her the toy— either way, she would have been content.

“Y/N,” Hotch whispered from the doorway, making me jump in my own skin.

I caught my heart as I turned to glare at him for scaring me. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

“Hotch—” I knew what he was going to say. I knew that he was going to give me a talk about how I needed to be more careful than I was being, but I really didn’t want to hear it, not for the hundredth time, at least. I was sick of people telling me what I could and couldn’t do. I could afford to clean up my kid’s room, alright. That wasn’t going to break my back. “It’s fine.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but both of us fell into silence when we heard: “Mama” come from Scarlet’s crib. I froze in place, thinking about what could have possibly just happened. Maybe I misheard, or maybe Jack was calling for me from downstairs, or maybe he was watching TV and they said it, or—

“Mama,” I heard it again, snapping my attention to the crib. Scarlet was still smiling— almost giggling, actually— and she was dancing around on her feet. “Mama.”

“Aaron…” I mumbled, too scared to move a muscle, thinking that if I did, she’d stop saying anything. Hotch took careful steps towards me, also trying to not startle her. “Did she—”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered back.

“Mama!” She did a “grabby-grab” gesture with her hands, reaching out for the koala toy that I was still holding.

Finally, a year old, she was finally talking, and of course her first word had to be just for me. Morgan wouldn’t believe it. I mean, statistically speaking—at least, according to Spencer—Scarlet was a late bloomer when it came to walking and talking, but she wasn’t entirely behind the curve either. Just yesterday, I had been thinking about how I couldn’t wait until she would start talking. How the fuck did she know?

I did a little dance, too, before handing her the toy. She fell onto her butt and gave the koala a Superman hug. Hotch and I chuckled at the same time. Mama. Yeah, I’d take that. I kind of wished we got it on camera or something, but I think it was better that it was in the moment and that Hotch and I were both there, taken aback by how shocking it was when it came out of the blue. My perfect lil’ bug… I laughed again.

----

“Uh oh, trouble just walked in!” Morgan cheered from the living room as we walked into Rossi’s house, the door having been left open for all of the guests. Emily and Garcia turned to see who he was talking about, and they all smiled when their gaze met me, Hotch, and Jack. “Where’s my goddaughter?” he inquired, walking over to me.

I rolled my eyes as he kissed my cheek and I hugged him. “Jessica’s watching her.” I turned and hugged Emily. “No more almost dying,” I whispered in her ear. “We need you here.”

She smiled shortly as we parted but didn’t say anything. As I hugged Garcia next, Morgan crouched down to talk to Jack. They were talking about the chocolate fountain that was in the dining room, and the next thing I knew, the two of them were running off together to go take a look at it. Garcia and I laughed before she insisted that she should go keep an eye on Morgan.

I turned to Hotch. “I am not responsible for his sugar high this time. You’re on your own, Agent Hotchner.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. “I should go find Rossi and thank him for inviting us,” I told him quietly as he kissed my neck.

“No alcohol,” he warned.

“Yes, Sir,” I saluted to make my comment look innocent to Emily, though it was anything but innocent to Hotch. After I pecked his lips with a grinning kiss, I snuck out of Hotch’s arms and headed to the backyard so that he and Emily could talk since he said that she was acting off.

As I was wandering around in search for Rossi, I discovered that he was nowhere to be found. Somehow, our host for the evening had completely vanished. I shook my head. Well, I’d find him later, I supposed, and maybe Hotch would be free then to thank him, too. So, for now, I tapped Anderson’s shoulder, catching his attention, and I asked if he had seen Morgan around since I spotted Jack running around in the backyard with Henry, which meant that Morgan had disappeared somewhere.

Anderson pointed me in the direction of one of the rooms on the first floor that was acting as a coat room for the night. I thanked him with a smile. He waved me goodbye before taking his girlfriend Angelica’s hand and leading her outside to go meet everyone. It was so funny to see him with her because they reminded me so much of how Hotch and I used to be when we first started going out, and we were just so naïve, hands all over each other all the time, smiles constantly plastered to our faces, no problems between us yet. Life used to be so simple. Hopefully Anderson and Angelica wouldn’t get as complicated as Hotch and I were.

When I stepped into the temporary coatroom, I found Morgan hiding in the corner, sitting on a leather footstool, drinking a cup of scotch. He spotted me and forced a smile onto his face. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Hey.”

“How are you doing?”

I sighed heavily, taking a seat beside him. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about me shooting you or Rossi for getting on my ass about not leaving the bank for the hospital the other day.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m leaning more towards shooting Spencer or Hotch are this point.”

Morgan chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no freakin’ idea. And I can’t even drink it all away because of the painkillers. So. Yay me.” I rolled my eyes.

Morgan didn’t respond, though, which was concerning. I half expected him to back up Hotch and Spencer, or maybe say something snarky about he was glad to be rid of me for a few months until the doctors could clear me again. But nothing. Even his smile faded into the unnatural silence between us.

My eyes pouted as I put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged my touch away, which also wasn’t like him. “Nothing.”

Oh, yeah. Sure. Nothing. Recently, Morgan had a terrible habit of pushing everyone away because he thought that it would somehow protect us, but all it was doing was hurting everyone involved. He knew that he could tell me anything and I would always understand. He knew that I would always stand by his side and back him up, no matter what. So why was he so afraid to open up to me recently? Had I done something to break his trust in me? Was I somehow involved in this secret he was keeping? I just wanted him to give me some kind of answer so that I could stop worrying about him for once.

He sighed when he saw my mind churning. “I can’t tell you what’s going on because it’s not my secret to share. Is that okay?”

I nodded. “If that’s the case, then I won’t pry. But… I’m always here to talk, Derek. Always.” I tried to lighten the mood by joking, “Especially since I can’t go anywhere anymore.”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

Silence settled for a bit as both of our chuckles faded. Now, we were just staring at the wall together. There had to be something more for us to say, something that would lift his spirits. Oh—

“Scar said her first word today,” I admitted, biting back a smile because I knew that it would cheer Morgan up to hear the good news.

Morgan looked up at me, shock mixed with excitement washing over his face. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Who won?”

“I did,” I smiled. He groaned, rolled his eyes, and dug into his back pocket for his wallet. I grinned as he gave me a ten dollar bill reluctantly. “Sucker.”

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” someone said from the door. Morgan and I both glanced up guiltily, as if we were two teenagers who got caught smoking pot at prom or something. It was just Hotch, though. Actually, no, that was too nonchalant for referencing him. It was Hotch, yeah, but he did, in fact, look like a stern and disappointed principle who had caught up smoking pot at prom. “I’ve been looking around for you.” He looked directly at Morgan to ask, “Have they been drinking?”

“Nope. They’ve been doing a lot of complaining about not drinking, though.”

Morgan poked my side, laughing at me in a teasing way, skipping towards the door, barely dodging around Hotch in time. He sent me a thumbs up for good luck. I groaned and hit my head against the wall behind me, looking at my husband out the corner of my eye as he took Morgan’s spot beside me.

“If it weren’t for your back, I’d have you over my knee right now for breaking the rules,” Hotch whispered in my ear.

I gulped. The idea sounded so appealing. I wanted nothing more than for life to just get back to how it was. I didn’t want Hotch to be scared to touch me, or to kiss me, hold me, fuck me. The next few months were going to be excruciatingly long without being able to have all of him. I was so fucking pissed.

“Mmm… and what if I were to be good for you right now…” I tried playing with him, sneaking my hand onto his thigh, making an attempt to work my way upwards towards his crotch, but he snatched my hand away. “Please, Sir. Something.”

“You behave, take all of your meds, work on getting better, then I’ll consider it—But only after the doctors say we can.”

“Come on, baby,” I pleaded with a pout. “We don’t need doctors to tell us how to be us…” I tried putting my hand on his thigh again, but he kept me away. “Aaron, I’m not going to break.” I instead moved my hand to his cheek. “I love you, I trust you, and I know that you would never hurt me, and I know my own limits when it comes to—”

“Y/N, stop, please,” he whispered. “Please. I love you, Y/N, and I want to do… I want to be us again, more than ever, but I just want to be 100% sure before we do anything. It’s only been a day. A day, baby girl… You heal fast, I know you do, but not that fast. One wrong move, and you might not ever go back into the field. Sex is nice and all, but it’s not worth it if that’s the price you have to pay.”

I chuckled lightly. “Okay. Fair enough.”

“Hey, you two love birds,” Rossi interrupted, sticking his head into the room, “everyone’s waiting on you two.”

We hurried to follow Rossi out to the backyard where everyone was gathered in front of the priest, Henry, and Will. I slowed when I noticed that it was standing room only. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to stand through the whole thing without literally wanting to tear my own spine out and throw it across the fucking yard. I looked at Hotch, tugging him back towards me. He searched my eyes with worry, and when it finally dawned on him, the worry intensified, and he neared me to hold me close.

He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll hold onto you. If it gets bad, we’ll quietly excuse ourselves.”

“It’ll be rude,” I whispered.

“Everyone will understand. Come on.”

He continued to lead me to the group, a few of them shuffling around so that they could make room for us. Hotch was standing behind me, his arms under mine, hands on my hips, swaying them barely, almost as if it were some kind of hypnotizing therapy on its own, and he was kissing my neck gently, not passionately enough to leave a hickey, but enough to tell me that he loved me a million times over.

As JJ and Will kissed, Hotch pulled me closer and whispered, “You remember our first kiss as husband and wife?”

I nodded, smiling through the happy tears that drifted down my cheeks. I was just so happy and relived that we were all safe, and that we were a family again. Even though things didn’t go to plan yesterday, at least Will was there, and JJ would never have to know what it would be like to raise Henry without him. Even though I hurt myself, I at least had Hotch and he had me, and we would never have to know what it would be like to live without each other.

Everyone started clapping, which pulled me out of my trance. Hotch let go of me so that he could clap, too, and I turned to look up at him and kiss him as we both smiled and wiped each other’s tears away. He smiled against me, leaning into our kiss. He didn’t recognize what he was doing. He had been so careful with me since the bombing yesterday, and yet, for a moment, he forgot about everything and just kissed me the same way he kissed me the day we got married. And I kissed him back. I didn’t stop until the clapping stopped and he realized what he had done, quickly pulling away from me so that he could make sure that I hadn’t shattered to a million pieces. I hadn’t shattered, but I had certainly melted.

During dinner, I sat between Hotch and Morgan, just across from Spencer and Garcia. We were all eating—the rest of them drinking while I watched—and talking the night away, not even pondering for a second that yesterday we nearly died on multiple occasions. It was like all of the bad had been washed away. There wasn’t a single bad thought at the table, and there wasn’t a single frown on anyone’s face. Was that normal? I mean, our lives had never been normal, so I was pretty sure I forgot what “normal” was, but that kind of felt familiar, like that was how we would be if our jobs weren’t so time and emotionally consuming.

Garcia asked how I was, and I lied, telling everyone that I felt okay, that they were just overreacting yesterday. Spencer, just as he had at the hospital, actually told everyone the truth. I glared at him again. He didn’t recognize what he had done, however, and continued on to insist that he could help Hotch keep an eye on me since he could recognize the silence signs that I was trying to mask my pain in order to not worry everyone. I silently cursed him for being so damn smart. And oblivious. But the last part wasn’t necessarily his fault, especially with all the theories that had been circulating around the office since I first joined.

After we finished eating, Hotch held his hand out and asked if I wanted to dance. I stared at him for a moment. Was he really going to let me move? I mean, I wasn’t going to second guess him vocally, of course, but I couldn’t believe that he was asking. I jumped at the chance, though. I accepted his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. The two of us laughed excitedly as we carefully hurried to the dance floor and he turned me around so that I was facing him and we could start slow dancing.

Hotch was so gentle with me. We were hardly swaying, taking slow, gentle, and small steps in circles. His arm was barely even touching my waist. I rested my cheek against his chest and inhaled his scent. I loved him beyond words. Despite our ups and downs, despite his lies and my hurt feelings over and over again, I couldn’t shake that I loved him. I couldn’t help that all of that bad times just couldn’t compare to all of the good times, which made everything worth it at the end of the day.

“What are we going to do?” Hotch asked, sincerely baffled. I didn’t say anything. “This isn’t like when I left… You could move then, take care of the kids, and Morgan was always around… But now you’re actually hurt, and I’m going to be gone all the time. What… What do we do?”

“Nothing really changes, baby. I can take Jack to school; I can look after Scarlet. And, you know, Jessica will always be around to help, too, if I need. We’ll be fine.”

“You could barely pick up Jack yesterday.”

“In my defense, he’s getting too big to keep picking up.”

“Y/N, come on. I’m serious. You can’t put any stress on your back. That includes picking Jack up, and cleaning up the house, doing laundry, doing dishes— anything. You need to be really careful.”

“I’m fine, Aaron.”

“You couldn’t even bend down to grab Scarlet’s toy from the floor.”

I furrowed my brows at him when I noticed the way his hold on me loosened even more after recalling the memory of me in the nursery only a few hours ago. He wasn’t upset about that. I mean— he was. Obviously, he was. But there was something else stirring in the mind of Aaron Hotchner, and it had to do with his own guilt. That was the only explanation I could account for.

I brushed my hand over his hair. “Baby,” I cooed, waiting until he looked at me, “I’m going to be okay.” I scratched his scalp gently. He slowly melted against my touch, nuzzling into the way it relaxed him whenever I played with his hair. “It’s not your fault. I need you to hear that.”

He froze. “I—”

“Aaron, please, listen to me. It’s not your fault. I yelled at you, and I told you that I wanted to make the choices with SWAT, and you gave in. I made the call to send everyone into the bank, and I was the one who neglected to think that there could be a bomb inside. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t have sanctioned an approach if JJ hadn’t compared you to Will.”

My face softened at the realization. I had only thought that he blamed himself, but I didn’t know it for sure, and I hadn’t realized that this was buried so deep. This was far worse than I could have anticipated. “That’s why you’ve been all protective like this.”

I mean, he usually got protective when something changed drastically in our lives. Haley and Scarlet were prime examples. But this was… different. Instead of ordering me to do things that would force me to protect myself, Hotch was coddling me and attending to my every wish. He was trying to make up for what he did. He was trying to apologize to me for something that he had no right blaming himself for; and he was trying to relieve the guilt he felt by catering to me constantly.

Hotch pressed his forehead against mine. “You could have died, Y/N. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that it was wrong to make a move like that again so soon, and I should have said something—but when JJ put it into perspective for me by asking what I would have done if it were you in that bank… I knew I had to help her. I had to help Will. And I forgot that it’s my job to protect you—to protect our team. I let my emotions get in the way. I shouldn’t have done that. It goes against everything we believe in at the BAU, and it nearly got you killed.”

“It was my choice, Aaron.” I brought my hand to his face and ran my thumb over his mole on his cheek. “Please, hear that. I made the call to move in with SWAT. It was my decision to push the front doors with you, and it was my decision to stay on site instead of going to the hospital afterwards. You can’t blame yourself.”

“But I do.”

“I know.” I felt a tear hit my thumb, making me pout. “It was an accident, baby.”

“Yeah, but it was an accident that could have killed you.”

I leaned in to kiss him because there was this overwhelming urge in the pit of my stomach to somehow comfort him, yet there weren’t enough words to tell him what I meant, and there wasn’t enough time in the world to hug him for as long as I wanted to—and even if the time existed, my strength to give him a Superman hug was too limited. But I could kiss him. I could press my lips to his until we couldn’t breathe, until he would grab my face and hold me there with him, leaning into me until I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him there with me. So, I kissed him. I kissed him as hard as I could. We exhaled through our noses, turning our faces to kiss from a different angle while catching our breath. But he didn’t hold me as close as I wanted him to. In fact, he pushed me away somewhat, and I could tell that it was because he was terrified that if he tilted over me at all, it would hurt my back.

My shoulders fell. “Aaron Christopher Hotchner, you are not stupid. You did not make the wrong call. Stop thinking that way before I smack you.”

He chuckled. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder.” I kissed him again, finally feeling his arms snake around the small of my back, giving me the chance to fling my arms around his neck, just like I wanted. I smiled against him.

Someone beside us cleared their throat. We parted to see Morgan standing there, gesturing to ask if he could dance with me. What a way to be a cockblock, am I right? Not that Hotch would have actually fucked me, even if I were on my knees and begging. He made it entirely clear that he wasn’t ready to have sex with me yet, knowing just how bad my back actually was, and he probably wasn’t going to give in for a very long time. I was going to be miserable. Miserable and horny. What was the point of being married to the love of my life if I couldn’t fuck him every chance I had? And then motherfucking Derek Morgan had to come along and ruin the slight chance I had by asking to dance with me. Oh, boy, he was really lucky I loved him.

Hotch was polite about it, though. We smiled, patted Morgan’s shoulder, then stepped away to go dance with Emily since she looked all lonely on her own on the side. Morgan took one of my hands in his, then wrapped his other arm around my waist while I put my free hand on his shoulder. I was staring at him, trying to gauge if he was any better since earlier. He wasn’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he insisted before I could say anything. “But thank you for being in my corner, sunshine.” I smiled. “And for always being so damn stubborn, too.”

I laughed. “Only for you.”

“That’s a blatant lie.”

I laughed again. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Can I sneak in a dance?” Emily asked, sneaking up behind me. Morgan and I turned to face her. I saw that she was forcing a smile, and behind that illusion of happiness was a desperation to dance with Morgan, so I nodded and stepped away. “Actually—” Emily started before I could walk away. “I was hoping to dance with you,” she told me. She reached out and grabbed my hand before I could get too far.

I smiled and took her hand. “Okay.”

Morgan didn’t walk away, so we both glared at him slightly as Emily took the lead. She put her right hand on my waist, her left hand clasped tightly with my right hand, and my left hand was on her shoulder. We still glared at Morgan.

“What? Can’t I watch?” he questioned through a chuckle.

I shooed him away until he gave up and went to grab Garcia from her seat. When I looked back at Emily, she was smiling for real this time, which eased my nerves. Despite how happy everyone seemed, there was something off with her. I could tell that she was the secret Morgan was keeping. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but some part of me just put the pieces together, and I supposed I should have attributed it to being a profiler, but I didn’t want to be that stuck up. I just knew. Something told me that she wasn’t entirely okay, and my heart sank.

As Emily looked away from me, almost like she felt too guilty to keep eye contact, I started putting the pieces together. Morgan was as upset that night as he was when he found out Emily “died”. Hotch stayed back to talk to her when we arrived. I didn’t like where this was leading me.

So, I just asked. “You’re leaving again… Aren’t you?”

Emily snapped her attention back to me, her smile falling from her face quickly. But she didn’t deny it. In fact, she didn’t even question it. The look on her face wasn’t confusion over what I was talking about, instead it was about how I knew. So, it was true. I had this feeling boiling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong with her, and for some reason her leaving the team was the only thing that made sense to me. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because if I were in her shoes, I would have felt the same way. I couldn’t imagine going through everything she went through; from finding out that Ian Doyle was back, to the fact that he was coming after us in order to make her life hell, in order to being tortured and stabbed by him, then… dying on the way to the hospital. After all of that, she still had the strength to come back when it was safe. But it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. Since coming back, something had been off about her, and I really hadn’t put the pieces together until she went out of her way to come up and ask to dance with me. She knew she was leaving, and she wanted to cherish the moments she had left with us.

“I don’t want to talk about it—” she began.

“Don’t leave. Please.” I didn’t know how I could be more clear and sincere. “Please.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry.” We were silent for a moment. “How did you know?”

“Morgan was being all weird and keeping secrets from me, which was how I knew it had to do with the team. Since Hotch isn’t acting weird, I know he’s not keeping anything from me. The next option was you… and when you asked to dance… I just… I somehow knew.” I shrugged. “Profiling or whatever.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Sure.”

“We need you here. I need you here. Scarlet—”

“I’ll still be around, Y/N, I promise. I just need to do something else. The BAU isn’t what it used to be for me. I think I burned too many bridges when I was away.”

“What are you going to do instead?”

I felt a sob bubbling in my chest, even though I was trying my very hardest to suppress it. I didn’t want to be sad at a wedding. I didn’t want to even think that I would be sad in the future, missing one of my best friends, wondering if she was okay wherever she was, doing whatever it was, doing whoever it was. There was a time when Emily and I… We just clicked. I mean, at first, I was indifferent because she came shortly after Elle left to go travel and do something new with her life that she loved; but once I warmed up to her, we had a flow at work. Morgan and I were together in the field for almost every case, but there were instances when Emily would tag along, and it made sense. The one thing I could vividly remember about her before she left was the time we were working that swinger case and we were in the car together… With anyone else, I think it would have been awkward. But with Emily, I didn’t blink twice. Being stuck in that car with her—though I didn’t recognize it at the time—was actually funny, and I enjoyed little moments like that. If she actually left, I wouldn’t have those anymore. Hell, since she got back in the first place, there was hardly a chance to have little moments like that, and it broke my heart, but I thought that we were going to have a long time to make up for it.

Emily caught a tear running down my cheek with her thumb. Shit, I swore I wouldn’t actually cry. She searched my eyes for a moment, debating on whether or not her next words would force an actual sob out of me; but I was pleading with her for answers. “Clyde Easter called… He wants me to run the London Interpol office.”

I let out a shaky breath. “You’re taking it?”

“Yeah.”

“And it’ll make you happy?”

“I hope so.”

I sighed quietly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she questioned.

“Yeah. Okay. If it makes you happy, then I can’t tell you not to jump at the opportunity, Em. Once upon a time, you told me that no one else’s opinion matters unless it’s optimistic and helpful. I want my opinion to matter to you. I want you to know that I will always be in your corner, and I will support whatever endeavor it is you choose to seek out because I want the best for you. Because I love you.”

She finally smiled again, almost like she was relieved to hear that from me. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” She stopped dancing with me so that she could hug me tightly. “I love you, too.”

And that was how we said goodbye because seeing her off at the airport a few weeks later was just too painful.

-----

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel @peggy1999 @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc @Braty-angel

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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terrm9 · 4 years ago

Text

Jupiter (Ethan X MC)

Words count: 3 000

Warnings: angst & fluff

Set in Chapter 19, after MC leaves Ethan in the atrium and meets her friends

Truth to be told, I was planning to take a little break from writing, as I am extremely self-conscious and I kind of dislike everything I create (well except my kid, she turned out pretty great) but then I’ve read Chapter 19 and was like ‘okay if PB can write shit, so can I’

This was written at the night while I was super angry with the chapter (and also have had two glasses of wine) and I never thought it would be shared but here I am sharing it and probably deleting when I am not so pissed at PB lol

As much as Chiara wanted to get drunk and have fun with her friends, there was a huge part of her that was still standing in the Edenbrook’s atrium next to Ethan. And without that part, she would never be able to properly enjoy her night out.

With that, she parted her way with her friends, encouraging them to drink for her too and after a while she was alone.

Ethan was clutching the handle of his leather briefcase so hard his knuckles have gone white. He had a reputation, a face to maintain, but the storm inside him was something utterly different than the indifferent expression he has been wearing on his face.

He wanted to follow Chiara, he wanted to spend this evening with her and her only, as she was the only person that could calm the tempestuous waters the storm has been causing.

As she stepped outside, he knew he has hurt her with the uncertainty of his statement and hearing her friends’ cheering and laughing when she joined them stopped him from following her. She needed to be in the company of people who could make her laugh, she deserved to forget about her worries for a while and who was he to take that chance from her?

Who was he to take any chance from her, after all?

The sound of footsteps startled him and his shock has been multiplied as he noticed the person they belonged to.

“I thought you left with your friends,” he spoke after the initial surprise was gone.

Chiara shrugged, stopping in her tracks when she reached him, standing right in front of him. She crossed her arms and even in the darkness of the atrium, Ethan could see the fire blazing in her eyes.

“We need to talk, Ethan.”

She didn’t surprise him, not really. She was brilliant and she could see right through him – he was

more surprised that she waited so long before demanding a proper conversation.

“We do,” he nodded. “Are you sure you want to talk now? You should be having fun with your friends while you are all in Boston. We can talk tomorrow.”

“We need to talk now. Can we take a walk?”

Knowing that there was no space to refuse, he nodded again and followed her into the night. The air was chilly, however it smelled like spring and a promise of warmer months to come. Better months to come.

How ironic.

Chiara couldn’t ignore the growing distance between them any longer. Even now, walking next to each other, they didn’t do as much as hold their hands. Ethan’s hand didn’t linger on the small of her back like it used to. There was no random kiss on the top of her head in the middle of their walk. Her arms remained crossed over her chest and Ethan’s hand – the one that wasn’t holding his briefcase – was safely hidden in the pocket of his jacket.

Their walk was silent – both of them expecting the other one to speak first. It was when they reached a park when Chiara couldn’t hold it any longer. Without preparing Ethan – or herself for that matter – for what was about to come, she just spoke before the courage could leave her.

“What is this, Ethan? Because I actually, and probably naively, believed that there was something going on between us. You kissing me at gala like that, you attending the brunch with my friends and referring yourself as my boyfriend? You asking me to spend a weekend with your dad in Providence? I am sorry but all of those things made me believe that what we have is more than just great sex and a dinner from time to time.”

Ethan was standing in the middle of the park, his mouth agape as he stared at the woman he adored so much speaking with such pained tone in her voice. He deserved her words, he knew he deserved them, but it didn’t made it hurt any less.

“Of course there is more that just that between us,” he finally replied, not knowing what else to say. He needed her to understand and he wished she could do it without him having to tell her all those horrible things on his mind.

Chiara found herself repeating Alan’s words from all those weeks ago in her head, reminding her that she needed to be patient.

‘Ethan can be difficult. I beg you to be patient with him when things get difficult. You are the only person I have ever believed could make Ethan truly and unconditionally happy.’

“Then why are you so cold, Ethan? Why have you been so fucking distant?” she asked, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I have tried my best to be patient Ethan. I have tried so damn hard, because I realize that Edenbrook’s closing and all the changes in your life are just too much now, but you are not the only one whose life has been too much lately. I have given you time and space and all the empathy I could and I geniuely believed that we would make things work in the end, but after today, I stopped believing. How could you say that? After everything we’ve been through, how dare you to say that you can’t say what the future brings? I am asking you, how fucking dare you Ramsey?”

That was it. All the air left Ethan’s lungs at her words and he found the world spinning around him, unable to stop the feeling of losing the ground under his feet. He stumbled to the nearest bench and sat down, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He knew he owed

Chiara a lot of explaining, that she deserved to know, to understand, but hell, he was scared.

He has become a person that resembled nothing of the great Ethan Ramsey.

When she finds what a mess I am, she will leave. As she should.

“There are things I haven’t been telling you. About myself. I… I am a mess, Chiara. With my mother back and Edenbrook closing and needing to find another job and you needing to find another job… It’s too much for me. But as you said, life has been rough for all of us, not only for me and I couldn’t drag you into my issues when you are fighting your own.”

Chiara sighed and took her seat next to Ethan, taking his cold hand into hers as she whispered: “Tell me everything, please. I need your honesty more than anything, Ethan.”

Ethan closed his eyes, allowing himself the mercy of not seeing the disappointment in Chiara’s face as he spoke.

“Ever since I left my mother at the rehab center, I come to visit her there every week. And every time I am with her, there are two sides of me, two sets of feelings fighting each other. There is Ethan, even after everything that has been done, is happy to have his mother back in his life, the one that is able to laugh with her, to bring her a damn photo. And there is another Ethan, the one that still hates her for leaving him and leaving his father, the one that hates her for taking away his chance to grow up without a fear of being left alone.”

He fell silent for a while and even though he felt Chiara’s gentle squeeze on his hand, encouraging him to continue, he didn’t dare to open his eyes and look into Chiara’s ones.

“And it’s confusing, you know? I hate being confused and I often wonder if giving her a second chance was a good thing, if it wouldn’t be easier to leave her in the past and just hate her for the rest of my life. And Edenbrook’s closing… I never thought that it would affect me so much. It’s not really about the hospital, damn it’s not even about moving away from Boston, it’s about you, Chiara. I’ve got some offers and some of them are really tempting, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept any of them, because I can’t leave Boston if you stay here. And I can’t ask you to go with me to New York or Los Angeles, if you wish to stay here. You are going to be the best doctor, the best diagnostician of your generation Chiara and nobody can doubt that. So who am I to take your chances away from you? Finishing your residency in a hospital of your choice, in a hospital that could provide the best learning environment for you is the most important thing for you and I would never forgive myself if you wasted your potential because I selfishly dragged you to the hospital I chose. And if you found your dream hospital, I would go with you, of course I would, but why would you want me to follow you? You are capable of making a change in medicine without me and you deserve to own your success.”

He gulped visibly, the lump forming in his throat making it hard to continue. What he said was true – he couldn’t see Chiara needing him, wherever she decides to go. The fact that it was true didn’t mean it didn’t hurt him to say it out loud.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Chiara mutter: “This is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard.”

“And of course, there’s the thing… Every time I imagine you moving away, my mind starts spiraling down the memory lane until it crashes with the memory of the attack. And that’s when things start to get ugly for me. Do you remember what I told you after the funeral? About my fear of leaving you alone?”

He opened his eyes at last to see her reaction and as she nodded quietly, he continued.

“The fear is still there, Chiara. I still feel it every day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep and some nights, that fear wakes me up. And ever since I’ve known that we wouldn’t be able to work together anymore, it has gotten worse. Sometimes I can’t catch my breath. Sometimes, my hands start to shake. Sometimes, my vision gets blurry. I just sit on the couch in my dark living room and replay every possible scenario in my head, every possibility of what could happen if we don’t work together. Few days ago, I have gotten to this point too and I imagined that you would work in a different state and there would be another attack and I wouldn’t be there to help you, to save you. To hold your hand. That I would receive a call from your mother telling me that you were gone, that you died while I worked thousand miles away from you. The next thing I know, I’m bent over my toilet, throwing up.”

His voice cracked and Chiara could see fresh tears falling down from his still closed eyes. He was clutching on her hand now, as if it was to make sure that she was still there, that she was alive and next to him.

“I’m a mess, Chiara, you know? I am a fucking mess and you deserve to be with someone who can make you feel safe, who can take your worries away from you. You deserve to laugh and dance and joke around, you deserve to hear all those sweet things I haven’t said until now, you deserve to be with someone who doesn’t go crazy every time you don’t pick up your phone, imagining the worst scenarios. You deserve to be with someone who agrees to do every stupid dangerous thing with you, someone who is easy to be around, someone without so much issues, someone young and happy. I am old and broken and difficult. And I thought, I hoped that maybe if I put some distance between us, that maybe it would be easier. That my fear would diminish, that it would be easier for you to leave and for me to be left.”

He finally opened his eyes fully, looking at the signs of disgust and disappointment he expected to see on Chiara’s face.

Instead, he found her staring at him with expression so gentle, so full of affection and pain and understanding.

“First of all, you are not that old,” she chuckled, not being able to keep the remark to herself. “You are practically a millennial!”

Ethan shook his head, but there were signs of amusement on the corners of his lips and Chiara decided to take that as her personal win.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I want to be part of your mess, Ethan?” she asked quietly, all traces of joking gone. “That I don’t want to be with anyone else, no matter how difficult it gets between us? Have you ever thought that maybe I have chosen you as you are, the difficult, broken Ethan?”

There was a long silence. Chiara didn’t quite expect him to answer and Ethan had no idea how to answer that.

Of course it never occurred to him. He never believed that she would want to be with him if she knew what an anxious chaos he was.

“I need you to answer my next question and I need you to be honest.”

“Of course,” he answered immediately.

“Do you care about my career or about my happiness?”

The question took Ethan by surprise. Was that some kind of trick? A test he was supposed to pass? Those two things appeared strongly correlated to Ethan.

“What are you asking, Chiara?”

“My career or my happiness, Ethan?”

“Your happiness,” he answered at last.

“Then we are stuck together. Because my happiness is with you, Ethan. I can pursue an amazing career and still be terribly unhappy if you are not part of my life.”

Ethan shook his head again, his whole body tensing at those words. He hated himself for putting her into such position.

“That’s the problem Chiara, don’t you understand? You shouldn’t have to decide between me and your career. You are young, your whole life, your whole career ahead of you. I can’t be the one to cut your opportunities short because I am selfish and want to be with you.”

She laughed softly to herself, tracing his knuckles with her thumb, the gesture that usually worked the other way around for them.

“Life is not a fairytale, Ethan. I am not a princess that can have it all. Right now I have to choose and I am choosing you. And that doesn’t mean I am giving up on my career, for God’s sake. Of all the people, you are the one to know why I became a doctor. I never did it because I dreamed of being famous or rich or speak on conferences. I became a doctor to help people, to make a change in their lives and I can do that in any hospital, any. Hell, if we decide to move to Cambodia tomorrow and help people there, I am in. I don’t care about being the best diagnostician of my generation, I don’t care about awards and people praising me. I thought you knew that.”

There was a sadness in her voice as she said the last sentence. It hurt her that after two years, Ethan believed that she would want the career of a famous doctor over anything else.

“I love you,” she whispered, not looking into his eyes. “And I have loved you for a long time. I was afraid to tell you because I believed that it would scare you off and you would distance yourself, but look at us, distancing anyway. So here it is. I love you and it makes me staggeringly sad that you don’t allow yourself to believe that. That you expect me to leave.”

Taking a deep breath, she played with her options. She could just stop now, with her heart already on her sleeve. Or she could push him even more, pouring her everything out.

“I can’t force you to want to be with me, obviously. So trust me, if you decide that whatever it is between us, is over, I will let you go and I will move on. Because my life wouldn’t end, because I would have to move on. But I am not your kid Ethan, I am not even your intern anymore. I am an adult, a woman capable of deciding what I want. And I want you, Ethan. With every difficulty ahead of us, I want you.”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Ethan wrapped Chiara’s whole frame into his arms, hugging her with a force he has never hugged her before.

They were both messy now, a tangle of arms and kisses, Ethan’s tears falling into Chiara’s hair, Chiara’s hands clutching the back of Ethan’s jacket.

They hugged and kissed and smiled shyly at one another and then kissed again, not caring about anyone seeing them, about anyone being resentful of such public declaration of their love.

“What if you hate me? When you find out you could have had a better life with someone else, somewhere else but stayed stuck with me instead? What if you hate me then?” Ethan whispered as their lips parted, the terrible feeling of dread in his gut not completely gone.

Chiara cupped his cheeks with both her hands, pulling him closer to her so that she could kiss his forehead with a gentleness only Chiara Ray could ever provide.

“I could never hate you. And you need to stop hating yourself too, Ethan. I chose you and I’ll keep choosing you for as long as you allow me to.”

New tears damped Ethan’s cheeks at her words and even though he always made sure to not to cry when anyone could see him, he didn’t give a single damn now. He was pretty sure she could see his bare soul, so what would be the point of hiding his tears?

“Can I take you home with me?” he whispered and it was when Chiara nodded that the first sincere smile formed on his lips.

*******

Last note: okay I know my MC is terribly in love and willing to stop being the future of medicine for Ethan, I am sorry okay I just can’t make her so career oriented. Also I didn’t want Ethan to say I love you because I hope (I BEG YOU PIXELBERRY) we can get it in next chapter canonically

Taglist: @takemyopenheart @maurine07 @senseofduties @mercury84choices @flightlessbirdiee @udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @ohchoices @adrex04 @queencarb @archxxronrookie @choicesfan10 @whatchique @drariellevalentine @gryffindordaughterofathena

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #chapter 19 #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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lilbabychilton · 4 years ago

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Two Weeks- Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Tags: Angst

Notes: The Reader, who lost her husband previously, comforts Spencer after he loses Maeve. (This’ll probably be part of a nearly canon universe, sooo we’ll see.)

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since you watched helplessly as Spencer Reid got his heart broken and his entire life shattered.

You’d been at the BAU for a little over a year now, keeping your distance and never really allowing anyone to get close. You transferred there from Brooklyn SVU after your husband died. The gaping hole in your heart had never really mended instead of healing, you built walls.

Watching Spencer lose the one he loved most brought up all of your unresolved trauma. Despite your best efforts to stay away from others, you’d grown a soft spot for Spence. He never asked questions, never pushed; but whenever he could tell something was wrong, he’d show up at your desk with a coffee.

One night, after a particularly triggering case, everyone had gone home; but you remained. Staring absently at the wedding picture on your desk, ghosting your fingers over the metal frame, you began feeling the all too familiar pangs of grief tugging at your heart strings. It was as if wind was howling through the emptiness of your heart.

“Still here?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Still here.” You replied solemnly, letting out a deep sigh and prying your eyes away from the frame.

“You okay?” He asked timidly, always careful never to cross your clear boundaries.

“No.” You replied bluntly, shoving down the need to cry so far down into your gut you could feel it. The heaviness settling there like a block of concrete in the ocean.

“You want to go get pizza?” A small, sympathetic smile crept onto Spencers face. Trying to cheer you up while effectively knowing nothing about you was no easy feat. “I know a place that’s open, it’s pretty good.”

You graciously accepted, and found yourself sitting across from each other in the nearly empty restaurant. Spencer rambled on and on for hours about anything under the sun, and you didn’t stop him. His voice helped fill the emptiness, and to tell you the truth, it brought you joy. Watching him wax poetic about his interests was like watching a little ray of sunshine dance in front of you and warm the cockles of your soul.

But now that ray of light was gone; and your heart ached all the more, wondering when it would come back.

You made your way up the stairs to Spencer’s, apartment bag in hand. The hall was dimly lit and looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 70’s. Somehow it wasn’t where you pictured him living, but you pressed on.

“Hey Spence, it’s me” you called gently, knocking on the door and waiting for a response. There was no answer.

“Can you just let me know you’re alive in there?” you asked, with a sigh not at all expecting an answer. But a minute later there was a hard slap against the door and you felt your heart sink.

He clearly wasn’t going to let you in, probably in no mood for company. But you couldn’t in good conscience leave him there to be alone another day. You’d been there, you did exactly this when your husband died, and to be honest isolating just made you feel worse, numb almost.

So instead of leaving you did something you hadn’t done since you were a teenager; you picked the lock. Laughing to yourself as you pulled out the lock picking kit you bought on amazon a month ago in a wine drunk haze.

“Who knew it’d come in handy.” You thought darkly as you heard the lock click open.

You opened the door and were hit with a wave of humidity. The air was thick, the curtains were drawn, and there were books thrown all over the floor. Your mind flashed back to your house, a year ago, it looked exactly like this. And you looked exactly like Spencer, laying on the floor, greasy unkempt hair, and pajamas that probably hadn’t been changed since he ambled home that night.

“Hey Spence” you greeted gently, sitting on the floor near his head.

“How did you get in?” He asked, completely unfazed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above him.

You held the lock picking kit over his eyes and shook it a little. Spencer exhaled harshly, might have been a laugh, might have been frustration.

“I’ve never told you about my husband.” You said, playing with the shoelaces on your beat up tennis shoes. Spencer turned his head, not willing to speak but interested in what you had to say.

You never talked about your personal life. The only one that had known was Rossi, and you assumed he told the others not to ask, and you were grateful.

“He died in a fire almost two years ago,” you started, “arson to be specific.”

“I’m sorry” Spencer breathed, tears rimming his hazel eyes.

“I know,” you replied, “me too.”

“I was a Brooklyn SVU Detective and he was a firefighter. I was working a child trafficking case and I hadn’t slept in three days.” You anxiously picked at your nail, you’d never told this story to anyone but your therapist and even then it’d been a struggle. But you swallowed the lump in your throat and continued on.

“The unsub was burning location’s to cover his tracks. The last location still had kids in it. Both my husband and I were called to respond. I couldn’t do anything with a burning building, so I waited outside, watching the crowd.”

“Fuck” you muttered taking a breather and putting your head in your hands, by now Spencer had sat up and was listening to you intently with his legs crossed and his chin in his hands.

“All the kids were out, they were doing a final sweep. I watched three firefighters go in,” you took a deep breath and felt the tears welling in your eyes threatening to fall and your voice shook.

“And I watched two come out. I don’t think I’ve ever run harder in my life. By the time I got there two men were dragging my husband out of the building. He died holding my hand in the ambulance.”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when you finished your tragic tale.

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” Spencer asked getting up off the floor and moving to the couch, he was crying too.

“No,” you scoffed, wiping the tears off your face and following him. “What I’m saying is, I get it. And it fucking sucks.”

Spence paused for a long moment then looked at you, “it does fucking suck.”

That was probably the most inarticulate thing you’d ever heard him say, and you grabbed his hand to comfort him, “but it sucks more to do it alone, trust me.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” you asked and Spencer just shrugged.

“You have to eat.” You said catching his sad gaze.

“Not hungry.” He mumbled and you shrugged.

You stood up and walked over to your bag, pulling out a carton of lactose free ice cream and some plastic spoons.

“I survived on this after John died.” You said, walking over to Spencer and handing him the container.

“How do you know I’m lactose intolerant?” he asked with a near microscopic smirk threatening his lips.

“I mean, other than the fact that statistically it’s super likely,” you began, “I pay attention, I’m distant not dumb.”

Then you pulled out your laptop, and a set of dvd’s and set them on the coffee table. Spencer leaned forward to inspect them.

“The first season of the Doctor Who reboot?” He asked, turning the case over in his hands and scanning the images.

“I’ve got all the other seasons in this bag. Sometimes you’ve got to distract yourself.” You said, laughing inwardly at your next thought.

“When John died I binged all of the show Dexter, it was awful.” you paused, taking in your surroundings “but it was better than sitting in the dark and crying til I made myself sick.”

“How?” Spencer asked, his face scrunching up in thought, like for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words. “How do I stop myself from doing that.”

You sighed and he began to cry, you pulled him into you and stroked his hair as the sobs wracked his tiny frame.

“Force” you said simply, “you force yourself to do it. The person you love wouldn’t want you to wither away in the dark.”

“It’s so hard” he cried and you cried too, no one knew better than you did exactly how hard it was. That’s why you were here.

“Do you blame yourself?” You asked. Spencer said nothing, he only sobbed harder, clinging onto you so hard you were sure he’d leave marks.

“I did too” you said, easing yourself back and taking Spencer with you. “Rossi consulted on a case for us before my husband died. Said I had talent and should come help out at the BAU.”

You paused and thought about that moment bitterly, as you were sure you always would. It was one stupid, simple decision what would have changed your entire life for the better.

“I said no” you continued, absently playing with Spencer's hair in an attempt to sooth him. Your partner used to do that for you after John died, she’d come over every day and just play with your hair until you fell asleep.

“I liked my life in New York. John was willing to go but I was scared.” You scoffed, and Spencer turned to you.

“Do you still blame yourself?” he asked his eyes swollen from crying and sunken from lack of sleep.

“Sometimes.” You replied simply, “less often now.”

“Listen Spence, this is going to suck, and it’s going to suck for a long time. But I promise that eventually it’s bearable.”

“That’s hard to believe” he said, no tone, no emotion. You knew exactly what was happening. Sometimes in grief your body gets so tired of feeling you just stop. That’s almost worse than the sadness.

“Oh I know.” you said, “But you find people who make it easier. I’ve got my old partner in New York, she checks in on me all the time, we spend a weekend together every month. And there’s you too.”

“Me?” Reid questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Remember that night we got pizza?” you asked, and he nodded. “That was John’s birthday, we got back from a case where a woman lost her husband and fuck, Spence, I was in a rough spot.”

“I assumed as much.” Spencer said, his memory rolling back to the deeply pained look he saw on your face as he packed up his things.

“You were there, you didn’t ask any questions, didn’t try to comfort me, you were just there. And that meant a lot.” You said cracking a half smile.

“I’m sorry I broke in,” you said moving some stray strands of hair out of his eyes. “But I couldn’t stand knowing you were going through this alone. Especially not after you helped me through one of my toughest days since I started here.”

“I appreciate it,” Spencer said, sitting up.

“The ice cream is going to melt.” You said, your eyes flicking over to the poor container sweating in the heat of the apartment.

“You should probably eat it.” You said picking it up and putting it into his hands.

“Only if you eat it with me.” He replied grabbing a second plastic spoon out of the box. You smiled and accepted it.

“Only if we can watch Doctor Who, and only if you point out everything that isn’t scientifically sound.” You said and you watched a smile grow on Spencer’s face.

“Okay.” He replied and you got everything set up.

Wading through grief is heavy, it falls over you all at once and it’ll suffocate you if you let it. Sometimes you need a reprieve from it all. Something to help you feel joy again, remind you that the world is still turning. A ray of sunshine in the oppressive darkness. Spencer was one that for you, and now it was your turn to be that for him.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x Reader #criminal minds #Crimincal Minds Fan Fiction #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid Fan Fiction

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 13 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter thirteen

~|Emily Fox|~

“Good morning, party girl!” Uncle Mitch shouts a little too loudly on a Sunday morning. “You look rough.” I sit down at the kitchen table on the opposite of him. “Gee thanks,” I rub my face harshly, then rest my head on my hand with my eyes shut. “You got in late last night. Didn’t think you’d stick around at a Brianna Holly party for so long. It surprised me you went in the first place, but you know, you do you.” My eyes shoot open at the reminder of last night. Jake’s eyes. Jake’s hands. On me. Jake’s lips. On me. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I tell him honestly which only earns me a worried look. “I mean, it was fun teasing Brianna a little and standing up for myself and playing a song with the boys but then Jake…” I trail off, not wanting to talk about it but Mitch and I are all about the open-book-policy. Talk about anything and everything with each other even if it might worry the other. Better to share the load than take all of it on one’s shoulders. “What did he do?” Uncle Mitch’s voice sounds darker, heavier. Almost villainous. “He was talking about how great we used to be and that he wanted it back, I think? I don’t really remember what we’d talked about, all I know for sure is that he’d tried to kiss me. The boys had to literally tear him off me.” Mitch’s eyes are intense, but at least he’s not trying to go and murder Jake. “We left pretty much straight after that and the boys took me to the Music Store. We stayed there, talking, pretty much all night.” I smile at the memory because even though what preceded that beautiful moment was literally the worst thing, it’s still a moment to cherish forever. “I’m glad those boys were there to help you out. They sound like great friends.” I smile a little and nod determinedly. “Wish I could hear you guys play.” “We’re having band practice later tonight, if you want to come and li—” I can’t even finish my sentence, because Mitch has already gotten up excitedly, dancing around the kitchen – though I wouldn’t call that dancing – and running up to me to hug me tightly. “But first!” He lifts a finger in the air. “Let’s grab all the snacks and watch some movies!” I nod excitedly and get up to gather up some snacks. With hot cocoas and all the chocolate in the world, we settle onto the sofa with blankets wrapped around us and Disney+ open to pick a movie since today is Disney day. We alternate between Disney+ and Netflix, one week Disney, the other non-Disney. “Can we watch Aladdin?” I suggest, mainly because it reminds me of mine and Charlie’s moment on the balcony, unbeknownst to my uncle. It’s been a little while since we’d made out on the balcony. Might have to suggest it soon. Mama needs her sugar. “Your uncle Bobby loved that movie,” Mitch comments as he presses play, “Do you remember you two singing A Whole New World together when you were really young, and he gave you a bath?” I nod my head at the far, but beautiful, memory. “That first weekend I came to stay at this house?” Mitch nods his head, “Yeah, I used to make a Sultan out of Bobby with the bubbles.” Uncle Mitch laughs at the memory. “The bathroom was such a mess after that!” I can’t help but laugh at the desperation in Mitch’s voice. “But you two were the cutest duetters alive. I loved having you around when you were really young too, you know? Still so innocent, not knowing how big and bad the world was. It made me forget about the big, bad world too.” I smile at him and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t know what I’d do without Uncle Mitch. Live on a street, I guess? Probably? He might not be family by blood, but he sure does feel like it. I never knew anyone being with Uncle Bobby than Mitch. They were my one true pairing. I wanted someone to love me the same way they loved – and still love – each other. Their bond is unbreakable.

“Ready to go, Mitchy?” I ask when we’re both changed out of our pajama’s after dinner, ready to head to Jeremy’s garage for band practice. It’s the first time we’ll be rehearsing in his garage, but I’m excited to find out where Sunset Curve previously used to rehearse. Pre me. “Yes! I am ready to partaaaay!” I roll my eyes at him, an amused smile on my face. “Behave though? Don’t go and embarrass me on the first day meeting them, okay?” “Yes, mom.” Mitch can be such a child, but I love that about him. “Boys?” I knock on the wooden door that’s ajar. There’s some rummaging inside, but nothing else. I push it open to find all three boys inside already. Charlie’s sorting through his loose songbook papers, Jeremy is tuning his bass, and Owen just sitting on the couch, playing around with his drumsticks. “Hey! I brought my uncle; I hope you don’t mind?” “Oh, not at all!” Jeremy says, and gets up from his spot on the armchair. “Hey, I’m Jeremy,” he introduces himself with a smile, reaching his hand for my uncle to shake, which he does. My uncle has this look on his face that I recognize as his gaydar. He literally scans people to find out their sexuality. His gaydar is very accurate. “Mitch, nice to meet you.” Owen gets up next, shaking my uncle’s hand too. “I’m Owen, the drummer,” he shows the sticks in his hand. “I see,” Mitch replies with a smile, and then comes Charlie. “Hey, I’m Charlie, I’m—” he points at me, and I know what he’s going to say, but I can’t have him tell my uncle about us yet. “The lead singer!” I chime in and give him a knowing look. “Right, yeah, the lead singer,” Charlie looks kind of hurt, and it breaks my heart in two as well. Just an us-thing, for now. Then it can be an everyone-thing. I hope he understands. “Nice to meet you, guys!” Mitch then leans closer to me, “And which one of the two cute semi-straight boys is the Cutie from the Music Store?” he whispers with Charlie just a few feet away. His head turns slightly and his mouth curls upwards. He heard Mitch. “Semi-straight?” I ask for an explanation. “Jeremy is questionable.” “Right…” I trail off, still whispering, “Let’s get to work, guys,” I speak up now, so the band knows I’m talking to them. Uncle Mitch looks a little hurt at me ignoring his question, though I’m pretty sure he knows it’s Charlie. “What song first?” Charlie queries while my uncle takes a seat on the couch and we get ready. “Why don’t we let the guest choose?” Jeremy suggests, pointing at my uncle. “Me?” I nod my head, encouraging him. I’d told them all the songs we’d made or already sang together. Which are three, four if you count This Band Is Back. “I really liked Perfect Harmony when Ems showed it to me the other day.” Charlie and I exchange a glance, a shy smile plastered on his face, and I’m pretty sure mine mirrors his. He goes to grab his acoustic guitar for this one. “Perfect Harmony it is, then!” Owen says and counts us in. Where Charlie and I imagined the soft beat and melody, that’s where Owen and Jeremy come in with the drums and bass. We’d only practiced this one a couple of times before. It still has the same, electric vibe it did when Charlie and I sang it alone. I still feel the same sparks, the same tingles rushing over my body. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah,” I sing without taking my eyes off of him. “You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah” “I never knew a love so real” “So real,” he echoes. “We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're In perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” I glance at Uncle Mitch. He’s staring at us with so much pride and intensity. When he catches my glance, he mouths “Cutie from the Music Store”, which makes me smile like an idiot. He knows. “We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create a perfect harmony” Uncle Mitch gets up off his seat, clapping and whooping like an intense fan. “My favorite song ever! So beautiful!” he shouts in between cheers. We play Now or Never, and, upon Jeremy’s request, This Band is Back before calling in a break. “I need a wee,” I say and patter towards the bathroom in the back. When I’m about to head back inside, I hear the boys playing a song I haven’t heard before. Or at least I don’t think I have. It intrigues me even more when I hear Mitch’s voice through the microphone. “Let me introduce myself We got some time to kill Consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills We could go make history or you could rest in peace But here there ain't no misery Cause on the other side we live like kings” I find the boys in their regular spots, Uncle Mitch probably having told them what chord to play in or something. Either that or they’re just playing around, and Mitch’s song just matches. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two 'Cause you ain't seen nothing” That’s when I recognize the song. It’s the one Uncle Bobby wrote for a Halloween musical at his school once. It was the villain song of the whole story and stuck in all our heads for months. I still know the words, and thus decide to sing along with my uncle, much to the boys’ surprise. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I get behind the keyboard and play a couple of notes, leaving the verse for my uncle. “Everything has got a price but happiness is free Just so happens, you're in luck We've got a vacancy We can set the night on fire and break out of the scene Your soul print on the walk of fame On the boulevard of your wildest dreams” I now grab a mic too, properly wanting to join in now. “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? Let your body loose, let your body loose Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do boys? It ain't bragging if it's true Now you ain't seen nothing” I walk up to Jeremy whilst I sing along to the chorus and Jeremy’s shredding the bass. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I walk over to the drumkit and jam out for a moment with Owen. “So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” I then move to Charlie while my uncle gets to the bridge. The boys stop playing and clap along with me. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need Let me hear you now!” The boys have somehow remembered the lyrics my uncle just sang, and sing them with me now. “The rain don't blind the rising souls They got too much to see” “Yeah,” Mitch goes for a high note, chilling my spine. “I got your glamour, got your gold Got all you'll ever need,” the four of us continue. “Yeah,” Another high note from Mitch. The boys now pick up their instruments again. “I said watch me make a move, watch me make a move boys” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” the boys and I echo. “I said watch me make a move, no, I don't disappoint” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move I'm ya number one choice” “Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do?” “Watch me make a move Come one and give me that noise” The boys take a break. “A tomb with a view Ain't it something?” And pick it back up with a bit of bass before all three of them join in again, and even join me into singing the backing vocals for my uncle. “Life is good on the other side of Hollywood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood So welcome to the brotherhood Where you won't be misunderstood Life is good on the other side of Hollywood” Charlie and Jeremy stop playing and leave Owen a little drum solo.

“Ain't it the best? Long live the dead!” Mitch shouts out dramatically, and then Owen goes off again on his drums. “I thought your Uncle Robert was the musically talented one?” Charlie asks with an impressed smile on his face. “How do you think we met? It was musical night in our favorite bar, and we sang a song together. That first scene in High School Musical?” The boys nod, knowing what he’s talking about, “It’s based on our story… Just straight.” The boys laugh light-heartedly at his story. “That’s not true,” I whisper, making them laugh even more. “That was a fun song though! How did you know it?” Jeremy asks me. “Uncle Bobby wrote it. He is – was – the music teacher at this high school and he wanted a cool villain song for the villain in his Halloween musical, so he wrote himself one. The song used to be stuck in our heads for months on end. It surprised me I still knew it.” “The boys were playing around with their instruments and it reminded me of Bobby’s song,” Mitch tells me, “I couldn’t help but chime in and start singing.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “It’s such a tune,” I say with a smile, “I think Bobby would’ve liked us singing it together.” “I think so too,” says Mitch and he presses a kiss to my hair. “Let’s get home now, yeah? Give your boyfriend a kiss and we’re off.” Charlie and I freeze, neither of us expecting Uncle Mitch to know about this since I never told him. “Oh, come on. You could not sing Perfect Harmony without staring at each other like that heart eyes emoji-thingy. I don’t only have amazing gaydar, I also have amazing love-dar.” He winks at me as I shake my head in disbelieve, but I can’t help the smile either. My uncle knows me well. “See you tomorrow, guys,” I say with the most awkward wave. I mean, I’m not going to kiss Charlie in front of my uncle. Especially when he specifically told me to do so. That’s just weird. Uncle Mitch gives me a look, which I shoot back. He then rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you outside. Say goodbye properly.” He leaves the garage, and then it’s the four of us. Neither Charlie nor I move, still unsure of the public displays of affection in front of the boys. “Seriously?” Jeremy groans before leaving the garage with Owen. They’ll be able to entertain my uncle for a while. I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to show PDA. It never used to be this way with Jake. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe us taking it slowly and not showing us off too much is healthy for us. “I’ll see you at the store tomorrow?” I ask whilst the two of us slowly walk up to each other, inching closer and closer by the second. “Definitely,” he replies with a smile. Once we’re inches away, he grabs my hands in his. “Isn’t your uncle going to be annoyed you didn’t tell him sooner?” I shrug. “I don’t think so. He knows how private I am about relationships. And besides, you heard him, he’s got amazing love-dar.” Charlie’s laughter intertwines with mine. “I think he knew before today already too. He’s all-knowing.” “As long as he doesn’t know about our sneaky dates on your balcony, I think we might be fine.” I chuckle at that comment, and then both of us fall silent. “He probably knows this’ll happen though.” The words come out just above a whisper as he inches closer and dips down. His lips meet mine in a sweet, somewhat long-lasting kiss. “I’m pretty sure they’re eavesdropping, though,” I say when we pull away. “No, we’re not!” Jeremy shouts from the other side of the door. “Yeah, definitely,” says Charlie, and he lets go of one hand, intertwining the fingers of his other hand with the one he’s still holding. He leads me out the door and then lets go of that hand too. “She’s all yours, Mitch,” he tells my uncle, and reaches out the hand he’d just held mine with for a handshake. “Hey!” I shout, “I’m no property!” Both Charlie and Mitch raise their hands in defense. “Yes, girl! Tell ‘em!” Owen preaches, holding his hand up and I slap mine on it in a high five. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I kiss Charlie’s cheek quickly and then leave the boys with Uncle Mitch. “They’re really nice boys, Muffin. I’m glad you’ve found them.” I smile at that. “Me too, Mitchy, me too.”

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg @lovesanimals @thequirkybookaholic @calamitykaty Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #madison reyes #charlie x oc #oc emily fox #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina

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sroset · 4 years ago

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Not Quite Friends

I wrote this a while ago and it is posted on archive on our own ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630245). It’s my first fic, so it might not be very good 😂 let me know what you think! Also sorry if the formatting is weird.

Ti Lee’s birthday party was the event of the year, it always was. There was always the best music and the best drinks, and of course the best memories made. Sokka and Suki had arrived at the party together and were practically undressing eachother with their eyes all night long. The way they danced with eachother would make people around them uncomfortable, if they didn’t already know the affectionate couple. Zuko and Mai were off sulking in the corner, not looking particularly happy with one another. Aang could sense the tension between them as soon as he walked in the door with Katara. Zuko’s mood suddenly changed when he made eye contact with Katara. A million words were said between a three second glance. No one else around them seemed to notice the way Zuko and Katara instantly lit up at the sight of eachother. But Aang did. He saw how Zuko’s tense posture seemed to relax and his hard edges softened at the sight of Katara. Aang could see how Katara’s perpetual nerves seemed to disappear as soon as she knew that he was here. The feeling of jealousy that washed over Aang was one he tried not to focus on because Zuko had a girlfriend and Aang knew that Zuko was aware of Aang’s everlasting crush on Katara, so Aang was reassured that Zuko would never make a move on his girl. Even though he was self assured, Aang decided to go hang with Toph to keep his mind off of things.

~0~

A few weeks later, Zuko and Mai broke up. Everyone saw it coming. It wasn’t like those two were the best at talking about feelings and emotions, not much could be accomplished in their relationship because of that. But still, the breakup was hard on Zuko. Him and Mai had been together for years, of course it was an on and off again relationship, but the comfort of someone familiar was now gone and Zuko felt empty. Katara got everyone together to go to the beach to try and cheer Zuko up. Katara knew Zuko better than anyone else in the group. Somehow she had torn through his thorns and the walls that he put around himself and really got to know him. That’s how she knew that the beach was Zuko’s favorite spot and would always cheer him up.

Zuko and Katara were hanging out in the waves laughing with each other, when Aang skipped into the tide to go surf. He didn’t mean to listen to what they were saying as he passed, but he did.

“I just feel so empty. I’m just drained from being with her that I don’t know what to do with myself anymore,” Zuko had said with a deep frown.

“Hey,” Katara sighed as she gently placed a hand on Zuko’s scarred cheek, “I know it’s hard but I’m always going to be here for you. You are my best friend and I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

Best friend? Aang thought he was Katara’s best friend. He had known her longer than Zuko, hell he grew up with Katara. She was always there for him, how was he not her best friend?

What Aang saw next made his heart stop. Katara splashed Zuko with the blue water around her, that caused Zuko to pause for a second and then he smiled. A smile that Aang had only ever seen Zuko direct at Katara, a smile so soft and full of admiration that it made Aang realize that there was more between Zuko and Katara than he was comfortable with.

~0~

The next couple of weeks were rough for Aang. He was upset and jealous, and it made him cranky. It has affected the group and made everyone concerned for him. He hadn’t thought about how it had affected everyone else in the group until Sokka approached him while they were at the “dance night” that Uncle Iroh was having at his tea shop.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Sokka said with a waver of worry in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re being a real bummer, you haven’t even danced tonight and that’s not like you. Even Toph is worried about you, and that’s saying something”.

“I just don’t get it,” Aang sighed.

“Get what?” Suki interjected as she slid into the seat next to Sokka.

“That,” Aang bit out as he gestured toward Katara and Zuko dancing, with Zuko’s hand on her lower back as he spun her. “ I’ve been friends with Katara for so long, and I’ve loved her for even longer, and I’ve tried to show her that by always being with her. But somehow I am not good enough.” Aang frowned as Katara’s face lit up when Zuko whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. She was glowing with happiness. Happiness that Aang didn’t give her.

“Hey guys! Why aren’t you dancing?” Katara questioned as she stopped by the table to get a drink.

“Actually, Sokka and I were just about to get back out there. You guys better be out there in a minute or I’m gonna drag you,” Suki commented as she grabbed Sokka’s hand.

“C’mon Aang, I know Toph needs a dance partner still, she’s currently stepping on Zuko’s toes. Go rescue him.” Katara instructed before she headed out the makeshift dance floor. Aang reluctantly followed and frowned as Zuko smiled at Katara and swayed around with her as she giggled.

~0~

On the gang’s annual ski trip, Aang’s jealously and hurt got worse.

“Katara?” Zuko called out from the living room of the cabin that they were renting for the weekend. Aang hated the way that Zuko said her name because it was so different than the way he said anyone else’s names. It was so soft and compassionate, compared to the harshness that Zuko used with Sokka, Aang, Toph and Suki.

“Yes...?” Katara replied from the kitchen.

“Do you need any help with dinner?”

“That would be great actually, thank you!”

Aang sat in self pity as Zuko got up off the arm chair and walked to the kitchen.

“Aang what’s wrong?” Sokka asked with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Nothing.”

“Oh c’mon I know it’s something,” Sokka teased.

“Fine, I am upset,” Aang replied shortly.

“Oh. Uh. Did you wanna.... talk.. about it?” Sokka asked suddenly uncomfortable.

Unaware that the pair in the kitchen could hear every word he was saying, Aang answered bitterly.

“You can see it in their eyes; they aren’t just friends. The way Zuko smiles for her? Friends don’t smile like that. The way he touches her? Friends don’t touch eachother like that. The way Katara’s face lights up when he talks? Friends don’t look at eachother like that. The way Zuko’s voice changes when he says her name? Friends don’t talk like that. I see it clear as day. They aren’t quite friends anymore. And I hate it because the person she wants, she needs, will never be me.”

Sokka sat there, mouth agape as he listened to Aang ramble about his feelings. What no one was aware of was the two people in the kitchen who were now blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact with eachother.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way,” were the words whispered in the kitchen as Aang finally realized why he was so jealous of Zuko and Katara. It wasn’t just because he had a crush on Katara, it was because no one had ever looked at him the way Katara had always looked at Zuko.

#zutara #zutara fic #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #modern #pining

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years ago

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So FlyingPurplePenguin over on AO3 wanted to see the RedFinch proposal from this fic and I was only too happy to write it!! Alcohol and cussing are both mentioned!

December 18, 2019

The door slammed behind him as he struggled with the many grocery bags. The familiar thumping of Rex’s tail greeted him as he walked over to the kitchen table. After putting the bags on the round table, he walked back to the door to kick off his shoes and dropped his wallet and keys in the basket on the entryway table. Walking into the office, he unlatched the kennel door, leering a very excited black Labrador out of his cage. He laughed as Rex jumped and yipped excitedly.

“Come on boy, let’s go outside.” Opening the slider, he watched Rex bound outside, sniffing the ground looking for the perfect spot.

He quickly put the cold stuff in the fridge before going back to the sliding glass door. Standing in the doorway, Albert ran a hand through his hair, groaning as he reflected on the day. Of course, Race would find himself in the emergency room that morning and tailspin the day.

Slapping his thigh, he whistled for Rex, watching him run in the door.

Looking at the clock, he saw that it was 3:00 and he had plenty of time before Finch arrived home at 6. He shot him a text saying he had dinner covered and he’d see him when he got home.

Making his way into the bedroom, he heard Rex’s collar jingle as he followed. Laying on his bed, Rex gave him a look as Albert headed for the shower. He took a quick shower, letting his mind wander on the momentum weight of the night ahead.

He and Finch had been together for the last 3 years, meeting after a freak accident that included coffee, Race, and blood. As Albert was stitching up Finch, Finch asked him for his number and the rest, as they say, was history.

Throwing on a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, he headed back to the kitchen to sort through the bags. He had planned on flank steak, potatoes, and green beans for dinner that night, along with a pie and ice cream for dessert. A six pack of Finch’s favorite beer was already becoming cold in the fridge.

Throwing together a marinade of olive oil, soy sauce, vinegar, lemon, and a bunch of spices, he threw the flank steak in the bag before putting it back into the fridge. He started cutting up potatoes and threw them in a pot of water so they were ready to start boiling in an hour. Once they were set, he snapped the green beans. Hearing the jingle of a collar, he looked up and saw Rex padding towards him hoping for some of the scraps. Throwing a green bean in his direction, Albert laughed when Rex jumped to snatch it out of the air.

Hearing his phone ring, he grabbed it. “Hello?”

“So you’re cooking dinner, huh?” Came Finch’s cheerful voice. “Did I miss something?”

Albert laughed. “No. Just felt like cooking. You’ll be home at 6, right?”

“More like 5:30. We're just wrapping things up and I’ve got a few emails to answer but I’ll be home around 5:30. Whatcha making?”

Albert nodded, realizing he couldn’t see him. “It’s a surprise but one of your favorites.”

“Do you need me to pick anything up? Jack mentioned it was a rough day for you.” He picked up the concern in his voice.

Sighing, Al finished snapping the beans, leaving them in the colander to drip dry. “No, I think I have everything. Race is an idiot and landed himself in the Emergency Room. He’s fine but it was a heart in your throat moment.”

“And how are you?”

Leaning against the counter, Albert leaned down and gave Rex a few pats. “I’m alright. Rex is keeping an eye on me.”

“Good. I love you. I'm excited to see what you’re cooking.” Finch laughed. “I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t burn down the house.”

“Shut up - that was one time and I’ve redeemed myself several times. Love you too, Finch. See you when you get here.” Hanging up the phone, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Finch had always had that effect on him and honestly, he hoped it never went away.

Finishing up in the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water before going to sit on the couch. Rex jumped up and sat on him, panting happily. “What do you think Rex? Hmmmm … will dad be surprised?”

Leaning over, Rex licked his cheek before laying down. “I hope so bud. I hope he likes everything.”

5:30pm

The door shut as Rex started barking and made a run for the back door. Finch laughed, landing on his knees to greet the 65 pound dog. Albert shook his head at the two, draining the potatoes. Putting them on the counter, he felt Finch behind him. “Hello love.”

“Hi yourself. It smells good in here.” Finch kissed him before looking at him. “Is this the dress code?”

Albert looked at his sweats and shirt before groaning. “I meant to change before you got home …”

“Don’t. Sweats, tshirt, and steak sounds like a perfect evening.” Finch grinned, giving him another kiss.

Albert handed him an open beer. “Go get changed and unwind for a bit. Dinner will be ready in 15.”

Watching him walk out of the kitchen, Albert shook his head before grabbing the steak out of the fridge. The green beans were almost done and the potatoes needed to be mashed. Taking a deep breath, he took a sip of his beer before finishing the task at hand.

“What can I do?” Finch asked, hovering near the stove, looking at the variety of pots and pans around the kitchen.

Biting his lip, Albert motioned to the potatoes. “Wanna mash them?”

The two were quiet as they worked on their tasks. Albert seared the flank steak, letting a spicy aroma fill the kitchen, making Finch’s stomach growl. “That smells really good.”

“Good. That’s what I was aiming for.” Albert said as he flipped the steak.

He grabbed two plates, silverware and napkins before putting them on the counter. Draining the green beans, he added those to the plates as Finch dished up mashed potatoes.

Letting the steak rest for a few minutes, he pulled Finch into his arms. “I love you.”

“Love you too Al. You sure you’re alright after today? Jack seemed pretty shaken up.” Finch searched his face for any sign of concern.

Sighing, he let his head hit Finch’s shoulder. “I won’t lie, it was scary but I’m just glad he’s alright. Kat released him just before I clocked out. They’re were going home and having a low-key night.”

“I’m sorry that it was scary and it happened on your shift but at least it’s nothing serious.” Finch said, giving him a look. “Hey, he had a great nurse looking out for him.”

Giving him a smile, Albert stepped out of his embrace before cutting up the steak, putting some on each of their plates before walking over to the table

“Let’s eat.”

They held hands as they are, Finch entertaining him with stories from his job as a project manager at a major construction company. “You can cook the steak anytime you want. This is amazing.”

“A little of this and a little of that.” Al shrugged, grinning. “I just googled a recipe.”

Albert tried to stop his fidgeting but Finch picked up on it. “Alright, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Albert grabbed their plates, dumping them in the sink.

Pushing away from the table, Finch gave him a look, walking over to the sink. “You’re fidgety, so you’re either nervous about something or you have to tell me something. So which is it?”

“All will be revealed shortly. But you might want to go get some shoes and a hoodie or a coat on. We’re going outside.” Albert grinned, leaning over and kissing him. “The quicker you go get some warmer things on, the sooner you’ll know.”

Finch shook his head but did what Albert asked, walking towards the bedroom. He grabbed his coat and shoes before flipping the light on the patio. Rex sat at his feet. “Come on boy.”

Walking out onto the patio, he looked around the backyard they had spent so much time on. A big flower bed was on the right while a vegetable bed was to the left. They had spent the spring and summer prepping both beds and they had gotten quite a bit out of both.

He looked up at the old style lights he strung up. It had been a project on the to-do list for a while and he had strung them that afternoon.

“What are we doing -” Finch stopped short when he saw the lights and Albert on bended knee, a black box in his hand.

“Patrick Finch Cortes, I have loved you for the last three years and I will love you for the rest of my days. You are my morning light and the evening stars. Over the last three years, you’ve always been the first person I want to tell anything to and the last thing I see when my head hits the pillow. Will you do me the absolute honor and marry me?” Albert had tears in his eyes and couldn’t really see Finch’s reaction until he was tugged to his feet.

Swiping at his eyes, he saw Finch had tears in his eyes as well. “Well, what do you say? A big fancy party with all of our friends and family and at the end of it, I can call you my husband?”

“Yes, Albert, I will marry you.” Finch laughed, pulling him to his chest before kissing him. “I love you, you idiot.”

Albert laughed, standing on his tiptoes kissing him. “Me? An idiot, in what way?”

“Because I had this.” Finch held up an identical black box like the one that was in Albert’s hand. “I was going to ask you this weekend, but of course you beat me to the punch.”

Cracking open his box, Albert took out the silver ring, holding up for Finch. “Can I put this on you?”

Finch nodded, taking a shaky breath as Albert pushed the ring onto his left ring finger. “I love you Finch Cortes. Yesterday, today and even more tomorrow.”

Taking out his own ring, Finch slipped it on Albert’s hand. “I love you too Albert. Yesterday, today and even more tomorrow. You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

“I don’t think that’s possible because I’m over the moon happy right now and I don’t think anything can bring me down.” Albert threw his arms around Finch’s shoulders, standing on his tiptoes for a kiss. “Who all knew you were going to propose?”

Finch grinned. “Jack and Race. Why?”

“Because Spot and Kat knew I was going to propose.” Albert laughed. “It’s hilarious that the four of them knew but didn’t tell their significant other. Shall we tell them?”

“Can we go inside first? It’s fucking cold out here.” Finch gave him a look, slapping his thigh for Rex’s attention.

Walking inside, Rex took his spot in front of their Christmas tree with Albert and Finch soon joining him. They took a selfie with their rings on full display before sending it off to the group with a simple message “he said yes!”

“How about we curl up and watch a movie?” Finch asked, pulling Albert up from the floor.

He groaned, looking at his fiancé. “I hate to be that person but I’m about to collapse. I held in all of my energy for asking you but I feel like I’m going to pass out. Can we take this to our bed?”

Picking him up bridal style, Finch walked them to the bedroom before throwing Al on the bed and collapsing beside him, giving him a kiss. “I love you a whole lot, Albert DaSilva.”

“Not as much as I love you, Finch Cortes.”

This was really fun to write as I haven’t explore RedFinch much! Let me know what you think!

#newsies #newsies fan fiction #writing #drabble requests #newsies drabble #ask #drabble prompt #redfinch newsies #albert dasilva #finch newsies

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years ago

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Winding Me Up Ch. 2 - Crying

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and follows! I hope I don't disappoint you all <3. Here's chapter 2 of this story. I initially did not intend for it to be so like, emotional of a series, but I can't help myself. I'm better at updating on ao3, but things will always make their way over here! I have this series fully outlined so it shouldn't take all too long to write. I happily take requests for most SVU ships (esp wlw)!

Casey is absolutely livid.

Thank fuck it’s Friday, because at least the week is over. Not that she has much to look forward to on the weekend. Paperwork, prep, the same set of tasks repeating in a way that feels completely endless, fruitless, especially after this week. She can handle losing normal cases, those where the defendant is really just the best suspect that they have but nobody can be certain. She can handle the more depressing wins, where the defendant has their reasons, like a father killing his daughter’s rapist. But the cases that hurt the most are the ones that feel like they could’ve been prevented. If only this one man had help, maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did; if only the little girl hadn’t been so trusting.

And her un-recovered reputation still proceeds her. It feels like around every corner is someone questioning her capabilities, despite the fact that she’s been hired back, despite the fact that her win percentage is still the highest in the department by far. She’s pretty sure Jack McCoy has secretly banned her from trying cases against Sophie Devere, thinking Casey has a weak spot for the attorney. He isn’t wrong, but the lack of trust still stings. Casey just doesn’t have many more tries left in the courtroom, she can’t pull her own tactics to throw cases and get a mistrial anymore without some serious disdain from her colleagues.

Yeah, that’s the other thing. Office gossip was going to kill her one of these days. Everyone seemed to think something about her. Casey lost her nerve, Casey’s out of steam, she must’ve slept with someone to get her job back, all she does now is make deals. Casey’s a damn good prosecutor, and she knows it, but sometimes, sometimes the doubt just sinks into her like vinegar, burning her throat.

So when her last jury of the day comes back not guilty on a case she really should’ve won, she shakes as she leaves the courtroom. When she overhears the defense attorney gossiping to one of her colleagues (her colleague for fuck’s sake) about how she’s “not the same as she used to be” on the walk back to her office, by the time she gets to her desk it’s like her body is choosing between hot tears and tearing the place apart. The first option wins out. She grabs her clean gym shirt and puts it against her eyes and nose, but she cries quietly. It’s childish, ridiculous, unprofessional, completely inappropriate, but she can’t stop herself from the breakdown. She’s an emotional person, but she usually keeps the weeping out of the office. Casey is usually able to brush off the comments, able to come up with a witty comeback even, but for some reason, this is the last straw. It’s like she’s finally broken the years old bottle of pain and rage, and everything that’s inside is spilling out onto the floor, a veritable self-pity fest.

When she hears a knock at her door, she’s of half a mind not to answer it, pretend that she has done the unthinkable and actually gone home after her last verdict. She leaves it for a second, but another knock comes, and a voice.

“Casey, it’s Alex. I know you didn’t go home.” Casey’s attention picks up at her friend’s voice. Friend, yeah, that’s probably the best word for their relationship. But she can’t get herself to stop crying.

“You know me too well, Alex,” Casey replies, her voice weak and slurred because her face is swollen. Hearing her own voice makes her start to cry again at how horrible she must sound, louder when she realizes that Alex could hear her cry.

“Is everything ok?” Alex asks, her tone alarmed. She’s never seen Casey get much more than glassy eyed, except when she’s working on a particularly hard case; and then the tears usually come slowly, not the way this sounds, strangled. Casey shows no sign of stopping nor getting up to let her in, so Alex asks again “Are you hurt, did something happen?”

“No, it’s, it’s nothing, look, I’m fine, don’t worry, just,” a particularly large hiccup breaks her sentence, “just a rough day, I’ll be fine.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself and not having much success.

“Uh-uh, no, you do not sound fine,” Alex says, her protective nature kicking in, “I’m coming in,” she says, but Casey replies with an emphatic “No! Don’t!” before Alex can even get her hand on the doorknob. Alex respects her friend’s boundaries, but she can’t let her just sit and cry by herself. “If you don’t let me in, I’m going to stand outside this door until you come out,” she settles on as a compromise.

“Alex, I told you I’m,” another sob, “fine.”

She feels bad about it, but Alex breaks into giggles of disbelief when she hears that. Alex Cabot doesn’t normally giggle, but Casey brings out this side of her every time they talk. Casey hears Alex laughing, and thinking it’s at her expense, responds, “don’t laugh at me, Cabot!”

Alex, still laughing says, “I’m not laughing at you.” She pauses. “Ok, I’m laughing at you. But only because you’re being really funny. Just, let me in Casey,” and as a last resort, she pulls out her subtle flirty voice, the one Casey hears about one morning a week now, and purrs, “Please?”

Casey can never resist it when Alex pulls the pleading growl on her, and begrudgingly opens the door, allowing Alex inside. “You’re incredible, you know that?” She says, tears still streaming down her face, as she picks up a tissue and blows her nose. “God, I must look terrible.”

“You sure do,” Alex says before she thinks about whether that’s what the redhead wants to hear, “What the hell happened?”

In lieu of replying, Casey pulls Alex into a crushingly tight hug, knocking her wind out. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Casey rests her head on Alex’s shoulder, unable to make words happen.

—

She eventually calms down.

Alex holds her tightly, rubbing circles into her back. They end up on Casey’s couch, she’s not sure how, but by the time she stops crying, she’s all but koalaed in Alex’s lap, exhausted. The sun has gone down.

“Please tell me you locked the door,” Casey whispers, tensing, knowing how this would look if anybody walked in.

“Yeah, I did, darling. We’re ok.” Alex says quietly, still in soothing mode. Casey relaxes again in her arms, and Alex feels her stomach flutter. Not the time, Cabot, she thinks, because Casey has been pretty clear about wanting their relationship to stay platonic aside from the whole sex thing, she couldn’t allow herself to have feelings for her. “Do you,” she ventures, unsure of whether she’ll just upset her more, “wanna talk about what happened?”

Casey scoffs, says, still quiet, “not really, it’s stupid, I should be used to it by now.”

This confuses Alex. Casey’s tough, and Alex knows that, so anything that could rattle her like that couldn’t just be something to get used to. “Used to what?” She asks, genuinely.

“Just, the office chatter, stupid comments,” Casey replies, beginning to lose her composure again out of embarrassment, but too tired to escape Alex’s firm embrace, “I overheard Calloway talking to the defense attorney when I left court today, saying something about me,” she breathes deeply, “not being what I used to be.”

Alex pulls away from the hug a few inches to look at Casey’s face. Her shoulder is wet with her tears, but she doesn’t care. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ll kick him.” Alex Cabot threatening violence never fails to get a smile out of Casey, who is drying her face off with the gym shirt again. “Calloway is a raging asshole. I will kick him for you if you want.” Her emphatic tone is cheering Casey up. Alex finds Casey’s vulnerable smiles to be completely disarming, but keeps going because she wants more. “In fact, I’ll tell him how much of an asshole he is, then I’ll kick him, then I’ll report him to McCoy for being unprofessional and gossiping, then I’ll kick him again for good measure.” Casey swats her arm and looks away to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.

“I’m serious. I. Will. Kick. John Calloway for you.” Alex’s tone shifts from angry to playful as she finishes her sentence, gratified by Casey’s weak chuckles. “Plus, he’s wrong, completely wrong. You’re fucking incredible at your job, Casey, even if you’re more cautious than you used to be. And that’s just, practicality, I mean, seriously, who does Calloway even think he is—“

Casey cuts her off with a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, I know I’m kind of gross,” Casey says, and Alex begins to protest, “But you’re just so cute when you’re mad. Especially when you’re not mad at me.” Alex takes her hands and plays with them, suddenly aware that Casey is pretty much straddling her, on her knees, in her office. She blushes at the thought.

“Hmm,” Alex hums thoughtfully, “Well don’t get too used to it. I’m sure you’ll find some way to get under my skin soon.” She pats Casey’s thigh, signaling that she needs to get up. “Come on, let’s get out of here and get something to drink. I’m sure those files can wait til Monday,” she says, pointing at the short pile of papers on Casey’s desk. They actually really shouldn’t, but Casey wasn’t in a state to argue.

“You’re inviting me out, Cabot, after I ugly cried in your lap for ten minutes? You really are an angel,” Casey says, her quick snarky self returning.

“You’re assuming I don’t have any ulterior motives, Novak.” Alex pauses, considers herself for a moment, “Not that I’m being nice to you because I want to have sex, I mean, I do, but that’s not why,” she rambles.

Casey cuts her off with a chaste kiss. “I think I like your motives,” she says, “But I’m starving, so we’re getting dinner first.”

Alex begins to get her things together, but Casey pulls her back into a hug by the wrists, saying quietly, "Alex, thank you."

"Of course."

#casey novak #alex cabot #alex x casey #calex #svu #svu fanfiction #svu imagines #calex fanfiction #winding me up #law and order #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic

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leviathans-watching · 4 years ago

Text

Sticks & Stones Chapter 8

Masterlist here, for newbies!

this chapter is a lil bit darker but still pretty light and fluffy cos that’s what this series is. fluff.

"Asmo!" You called, knocking on his door. It immediately swung open, startling you.

"Oh, MC!" He all but purred, stepping aside to let you in. "How unexpected."

"Not unexpected at all, because I called you and told you I was coming, but whatever," You flopped on his bed, making him laugh.

"Ready for this? We haven't gone out in forever!" Asmo cheered, and you pushed yourself up.

"Where are we going this time?" You asked, and he winked.

"It's a surprise, okay?"

He had, of course, already picked out your outfit, and made you change, but unlike last time, it didn't give you any clues on whether you going to a club or a party or knowing Asmo, something way stranger.

Sitting down in his chair, you sighed. "I can't believe this is the second time you're making me up today."

"You know I'd do it every day if you'd let me," Asmo pointed out, and you smiled at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes.

"That's entirely impractical."

"If you say so," He replied, shrugging.

A few minutes went quietly as Asmo worked, styling your hair. His "get ready w me" playlist was playing in the background and you were kind of ashamed that you recognized it.

"So," He broke the silence, a teasing edge to his voice. "Give any more thought to what we talked about earlier?"

You sighed. "Don't laugh."

In the mirror, he crossed his heart with the comb. "Promise."

"I don't know, but one name keeps coming up, and Lucifer said something, and now I'm overthinking every interaction." You confessed, and Asmo quirked an eyebrow.

"Is this name Mammon?"

"Maybe," You hedged, and he giggled.

"Called it!"

"Hey!" You whipped your head back to face him, and he backed away.

"Sorry, MC, it's just the two of you are just so damn oblivious," Shrugging, Asmo went back to his closet. "So do you like him?"

"I," You sighed. "Don't know."

Asmo turned to you, hand on his hip. "You don't know?"

"I never thought about it! You guys seemed untouchable, way up there," You confessed. "Seven demon lords compared to a human? Get real."

In a flash, Asmo had crossed the room and was in your face.

Startled, you moved back. "Asmo?"

A pink glow seemed to come from him, and he seemed to actively be calming himself down.

"How dare you," Asmo pulled you up, not rough, but not exactly gentle either. "Say those things about yourself?"

He pushed you to his biggest mirror, forcing you in front of it.

"MC, I need you to see what I see, what we all see." He held your gaze in the mirror, and you flinched slightly, uncomfortable as hell.

"Asmo, stop!" You tried to pull from his grip, but you were no match for his demon strength, and he wasn't letting you go.

"No! Look in the mirror and tell me what you see!" Asmo demanded, and you brought your eyes back to your reflection.

"Right now I see someone being held against their will," You muttered, and Asmo sighed, his grip loosening slightly.

"I'm doing this for you, stupid. If you don't want to say it, I will." Asmo pushed his cheek against yours gently. "I'll tell you what I see."

You watched him in the mirror as his gaze raked up and down you, all made up from his ministrations and looking flustered and uncomfortable.

"I see someone who managed to come down here and turn out lives upside down. Someone who's beautiful and wonderful and not only manages to look amazing every moment of every day, I'm not even kidding, how do you do it?"

You chuckled softly, unable to tear your eyes away from his in the mirror.

"But also someone who makes me want to be better and makes us want to try harder because you put effort into every little thing you do."

You felt tears pooling in your eyes.

Asmo wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you. "And your eyes are so pretty and you have the nicest voice and you're so genuine and you make me feel things, but not that way, don't worry, though I'd always be down-" That got another laugh out of you. "-Because I'm only supposed to think about myself but you make me want to think about you and other people, and I don't know what to do."

"Asmo," You sniffed, and he finally let you turn to hug him. You buried your face in his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him. "Thank you."

"I'm just telling the truth, silly." Asmo pulled you away from the mirror. "I just hate that I have to be the one to tell you it."

"Well, thanks." You wiped at your eyes and gave him a small smile, glad to see all the pink glowing had faded from the room.

He returned it easily, then pursed his lips. "I'm not sure if we should go out, to be honest. What do you say to a spa night instead?"

You nodded, grateful. "I'll make it up to you next weekend."

"I'll hold you to that," Asmo crossed the room, turning off the playlist. "Now we can talk about Mammon. In case I wasn't clear earlier, he likes you."

You felt something warm in your chest and used your hand to hide a small smile.

"Aren't you two going to the movies tomorrow? Isn't that like a date?" Asmo continued, and you blanched.

"Wait, is it?"

Asmo shrugged. "I'm not sure. Mammon was tight-lipped about it. What are you going to do about it?"

You groaned, and Asmo laughed.

"We'll figure something out. Let's go get my special face mask from the fridge. I want to make you look the best you can tomorrow, okay?"

You made your way to the kitchen, and he was digging through the fridge, pulling out an assortment of things from it as you leaned against the counter.

"Sorry for making you do all this work to get me ready when we didn't even end up going out," You apologized, and he winked at you over his shoulder.

"It's fine! Really, MC, out of all the things to focus on," He sighed delicately, and you wondered where the Asmo from earlier hid. Honestly, the way he was acting was so unlike him.

"What's up?" A voice sounded in the doorway to the kitchen, and you looked up to see none other than Mammon walking in.

"Hey Mammon," Asmo shut the fridge door with his hip. "We were just talking about you!"

"Ya were?" Mammon looked between you and Asmo, a furrow between his brow. "Listen MC, I don't know what he told you but-" He paused, coming closer and inspecting your face. "Have you been crying?"

Catching Asmo's eye over Mammon's shoulder, you ignored the face he was making and focused back on Mammon.

"It's fine, Mammon."

Mammon suspiciously narrowed his eyes. "So ya were? What happened? What did Asmodeus do ya?" Spinning around to face his brother, Mammon scowled at him.

"I didn't do anything. MC and I just had a little heart to heart, that's all." Asmo grabbed all the stuff laid out on the counter and nodded at you. "I'll meet you in my room, okay?"

Once Asmo had left the kitchen, Mammon turned to you. "MC?"

"It's okay, Mammon. Really," You assured him, laying a hand on his arm.

"You went to Asmo? Not me, your first man?" Mammon asked indignantly, and you stifled a laugh.

"I didn't go to him," You explained. "He more surprised me."

"But you're sure you're okay?"

You nodded, and Mammon looked relieved.

"Good. Not that I was worried 'bout you, or anything, but I can't have the human entrusted in my care all upset, ya know?" Mammon huffed, and you chuckled.

"Of course. I really should go meet Asmo, though." You reluctantly moved away from him, and Mammon nodded.

"We still on for tomorrow?" He asked, and you gave him an affirmative, both of you lingering in the kitchen for a moment longer before you awkwardly went your separate ways.

Making your way to Asmo's room, heart thumping and cheeks hot, you wondered how you were going to make it to tomorrow.

Chapter 1

Chapter 9

Masterlist

Tags: @omgapolarbear @crispyarttravelhumanoid @nimeryaa

#sticks&stones #leviswriting #obey me shall we date #obey me game #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #shall we date belphegor #tough love

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angelicdestieldemon · 4 years ago

Text

A Birthday Surprise

This is my first Barisi fanfic so please go easy on me, just love these two and Raúl, anyway enjoy x

(I also have a Kofi page if you're interested)

To say Amanda was surprised when she found out that Barba and Carisi were sleeping together would be a lie, she wasn’t blind, she could see the tension in their mutual teasing and battle of the wits. To then find out that not only were they sleeping together but were in a long-term committed relationship however was a little bit of a surprise. She was happy for them, she just didn’t realise that their relationship went further than sexual tension to be dispelled by hooking up once in a while. But the icing on the cake had to be finding out that they had been living together for a year and no one had noticed, not even Liv.

Which leads her to today, Barba and Carisi had invited the squad round to celebrate Carisi’s birthday. His birthday wasn’t actually today but they were all working on the day so they waited until the weekend rolled around to celebrate. When Carisi suggested his and Barba’s apartment Amanda could see the look Barba gave Carisi, a look of ‘what the hell are you thinking?’. However, before Barba could object to the idea, Carisi placed his hand on Barba’s thigh under the table and that look in Barba’s eye turned to soft resignation, it took all of Amanda’ self control not to smirk at the rare display of affection, not to mention the fact that Carisi had managed to wrap Barba round his finger. Letting her eyes drift from Barba to Carisi she could see the smug look he wore, he knew the control he had over the ADA and although Amanda knew that that control wasn’t something Carisi would abuse, she could tell he definitely made use of it.

So the plans were settled, and everyone agreed to meet at Carisi and Barba’s apartment on Saturday - today - to celebrate Carisi getting that little bit older. She had already given Carisi his present on his actual birthday, a tie from a tailors he had been practically drooling over when they went to speak to the owner for a case a few months back, she knew she’d done well when Barba complimented her gift, telling her it suited Carisi’s skin tone perfectly.

Now, as she waited for the elevator in the lobby of their apartment building, she was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of Barba and Carisi being in a relationship, a proper committed relationship.

xXx

Carisi was nervous, she could tell by the way he was peeling the label off his beer bottle. He hadn’t made eye contact with her since they arrived at the bar and his nervousness was beginning to make her feel anxious. Was he ok? Had something bad happened to him, his family? She wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate her putting her hand on his shoulder so instead, she slid the beer bottle out of his hand to draw his attention to her.

“Carisi, has something happened?” She asks, his eyes still refusing to meet hers.

“No. I- uh why is this so hard?” He said, talking more to himself than her. “I wanted to speak to you about something…” he says, his voice trailing off at the end, she could see the internal struggle he was facing on whether or not to tell her what he needed to tell her or let it go.

“Whatever you need to say, I'm here to listen,” she says, deciding to let him talk when he was ready, trying not to force him to say anything he wasn’t ready to say no matter how curious she was.

Carisi finally meets her eyes and for a moment he says nothing, just staring at her as if he is looking for something, he must find it because he grabs his beer bottle, takes a long sip and turns to face her completely.

“I’m bisexual.”

xXx

She remembers that night he came out to her like it was yesterday, he was so scared of her rejecting him, of reacting badly like so many others must have done before. And when she didn’t, when she gave him a hug and told him she was proud of him, grateful that he decided she was worthy of him telling her something so personal, he nearly broke down in tears of relief.

They had become closer after that, Carisi told her about his previous relationships, his catholic family’s reaction to their only son coming out as bisexual. That night was a rough one, to say that they hadn’t taken it well would be an understatement but they were coming round, slowly but surely. They drank a lot that night and Amanda can still remember the hangover they both had the next morning.

The elevator finally arrives and as she turns to push the button for Barba and Carisi’s floor she sees Liv enter the lobby, she holds the door open long enough for Liv to make it in before allowing the doors to close.

“I’ve spent all week wondering what their apartment looks like,” Amanda says by way of greeting and she can see Liv smile.

“Honestly, I’ve been doing the same. Until Carisi invited us I realised I haven’t been to any of their apartments even before they moved in together,” Liv replied, Amanda smiled.

“I’m still trying to get my head around how none of us noticed. I mean we’re detectives, how could we not notice?” She responds, her question was one she knew Liv shared.

Barba and Liv were very close, best friends even, and yet he didn’t tell her that he had moved in with one of her detectives, and that they had been living together for over a year. Then again, Barba was a very private man, Amanda could probably count on one hand the amount of personal information she knew about him. That thought leads her to Carisi, sure she knew a lot about Carisi, the man was practically an open book in most aspects, and having come out to her she assumed he would have told her if he was in a relationship. But no, he too - like Barba - had hidden it from her, all of them really.

“I’m trying not to take it personally,” Liv says, breaking Amanda out of her runaway thoughts. “They didn’t have to tell us, but I'm glad they did.” She finished, however Amanda saw her mouth open again as if to speak before she closed it again. Amanda waited for her to continue, knowing that whatever Liv was about to say was important if she was consciously working out how to put her thoughts in to words.

“I just can’t help wondering why they didn’t tell us sooner? I mean, I know they said that they didn’t intend for it to be a great big secret and that they just didn’t know how to tell us without it being a big thing. I just worry that maybe there was another reason, that they didn’t feel safe telling us,” she explained, a tired look crossing her face making it clear that Liv had spent the whole week worrying about this in her head.

“Have you spoken to Barba about this? I think it’d help,” she offers. “I can see where you’re coming from, if I'm honest I'm a little hurt that Carisi didn’t tell me, he tells me about everything else. But I can also see from their perspective, it’s hard enough in our world for them to be out, every so often I hear unis and other lawyers take digs at them. Their relationship as I'm sure you’ve noticed has already caused quite a stir,” Amanda rationalises, if anything saying it out loud makes her see their perspective a little clearer.

Liv turns to her, a small smile gracing her features and Amanda knows she’s comforted by her words.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I guess maybe I'm more annoyed at myself for not noticing,” she says, a teasing smile growing prominently, Amanda returns it.

The elevator finally arrives on the right floor and they both leave feeling better than when they entered. Finding the right door, Liv knocks and they only have to wait a few seconds before Carisi answers it, dressed casually but it’s clear to Amanda that these are clothes bought by Barba. Carisi wouldn’t pay the amount the blue long sleeve shirt he was wearing cost but Barba definitely would.

“Hey, you’re the last to arrive, please come in,” he says, standing to the side to let them past. “Can I take your coats?” Amanda rolls her eyes and shrugs off her coat, Liv following suit.

“Aren't you a good little host?” She teases, Carisi grins taking their coats and hanging them on the rack behind the door.

“What can I say, my mother taught me right,” he teases back, a mocking but happy smile plastered on his face. “Drinks are in the kitchen on the right, help yourself,” he finishes leading them through to the living room opposite the kitchen.

The apartment is exactly what Amanda imagined Barba would live in, the living room is spacious with a large expensive but comfortable looking furniture and large windows with views of the city. A short hallway leading to what she assumes is the bedrooms and the bathroom. The kitchen is filled with top of the line appliances a very expensive looking coffee maker and sleek counter tops, she finds the beer in the fridge and grabs a glass of wine for Liv as well and walks back across to the living room.

Carisi drops down on to the large L-shaped couch next to Barba, his arm thrown over the back and they’re pressed together at the side in way they never would at work and Amanda can’t help but find it sweet the Barba doesn’t even pretend to act annoyed but relaxes instantly in to Carisi’s side.

She passes the wine to Liv and sits down beside her on the opposite side of the couch from the love birds. Fin taking the armchair across from all of them.

“Well, shall we raise a toast?” Fin announces, raising his bottle. “Happy Birthday Carisi, may you live to share your legal knowledge for another year whether we want it or not,” he teases.

Everyone except Carisi nods their head in agreement and amusement while saying “Cheers!” including Barba, who gets a pinch on his arm from his boyfriend, but the look they share is one of good natured teasing that makes Amanda ache for someone to look at her like that.

The group carry on after that, Carisi thanking them for coming, Liv moving closer to Barba to talk about the apartment, Amanda can see a proud look on his face, it’s clear he loves his and Carisi’s home. She chats with Fin and Carisi about the dinner he and Barba had with his parents and sisters on his actual birthday, Amanda and Fin laughing at Barba being ambushed by Carisi’s sisters, Theresa and Gina making it known that if it doesn’t work out with Sonny, Barba should give either of them a call.

After a few more beers, Amanda asks where to find the bathroom, “First door on the right,” Carisi says, his arm still firmly around Barba.

She finds the bathroom and marvels at the large bathtub in the corner, wishing her own was that big. After finishing her business and washing her hands in one of the two sinks she opens the door to leave but pauses and decides to have a nose around the apartment without supervision, starting with the bathroom cabinets. The pain killers for migraines are probably Barba’s and the expensive shaving kit is probably his too. She finds hair gel that most definitely belongs to Carisi as it is the same brand he has in his desk for long days. As she’s about to close it and move on to the bedroom, she see’s something that catches her eye. A box of extra large condoms, grinning she takes a picture of the box to tease Carisi about later puts her phone back in her pocket when she hears someone clear their throat behind her.

“Having a nose around are we?” Carisi says, a mocking glint in his eyes. Amanda smiles and hold up the box of condoms.

“Barba’s a lucky man, Carisi, who knew you were packing so much heat in those tailored trousers,” she teases, waiting to see the tall detectives cheeks flush red with embarrassment as it so often does, only instead of blushing she sees him smirk, a mischievous look flash across his face.

“They’re not mine,” he quips, watching her expression turn to one of shock, before leaving her there in the bathroom.

After taking a minute to recover from the shock of finding out about Barba’s size she puts the box back in the cabinet and heads back to the living room hoping her face isn’t red. She arrives just in time for Carisi to lean in and whisper something in Barba’s ear, and to her mortification she see’s Barba’s smile turn to into a predatory smirk. He catches her eye and winks making her choke on her beer. Fin and Liv turning to her in concern, but she passes it off with a “wrong tube” and takes another drink, making a mental note to never go through Barba or Carisi’s things again, there are some things she doesn’t want to know.

#barisi #rafael barba #sonny carisi #dominic sonny carisi #ada barba #Law & Order SVU #law & order: special victims unit #barisi fanfic #fanfiction #Raúl esparza #raul esparza #Peter Scanavino #Olivia benson #odafin tutuola #fin tutuola #Amanda Rollins #mariska hartigay #ice t #Kelli Giddish

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justkindaoverhereobsessing · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Could you do the number 24 (“Is that a tattoo?”) from the fanfic prompt list, pretty please???

Fanfic Prompt List (Third time!)

#24: “Is that a tattoo?”

Abby invites the David-DiNozzos to London for the weekend, and since it’s only a two-hour train ride from Paris, they decide to take her up on it. Tali is ridiculously excited for this little adventure, having never before been to “Peppa Pig’s country”, as she puts it, and the journey goes smoothly.

They have a lovely time—neither has seen Abby in years, and the visit makes them both nostalgic.‍..

Maybe a little too nostalgic.

On Saturday night, they have a few glasses of wine with dinner, and it doesn’t take long for them all to go from sober to tipsy. When Abby offers to refill Tony’s glass for the fifth time, he protests.

“Thanks, Abby, but I think I’ve had enough.”

Abby sees him looking at the bottle with longing, though, and she grins. “You sure there, Tony? ‘Cause your mouth is saying one thing but your eyes are saying another.”

He glances at Ziva for help, but she’s feeling wonderfully fuzzy herself, and she just shrugs at him, looking like she’s trying not to smirk.

“Okay, alright, maybe I’ll have one more glass,” he concedes finally. “Two, tops.”

It won’t be twelve hours before he comes to regret those words.

_______________________

Neither Tony nor Ziva will ever be nonchalant or cavalier about Tali’s safety; they can’t afford to, not with everything they’ve had to deal with in the past.

So when Abby asks if they’d like to go out to a pub, they say no. “We cannot leave Tali alone and we do not have a sitter we trust here,” Ziva says regretfully. A night out sounds like just what she needs. (Or maybe that’s the merlot speaking as it sloshes pleasantly in her stomach.)

“She could probably stay with my roommate,” Abby offers. “I doubt Natalie would mind.”

“Key word there was ‘trust’, Abbs,” Tony argues quietly. “You know we can’t just leave her with anyone. It takes time to vet people. I’m sure your roommate is nice enough, but we don’t know her.”

“I understand,” Abby says sincerely. “It was just an idea. You do know her, though, at least through that whole six-degrees-of-separation thing.”

That makes Tony laugh. “You could say that about anyone. I also know Kevin Bacon and Obama and Beyonce, but you don’t see me calling them to babysit.”

“It doesn’t go that far back with Natalie, Tony! Besides the fact that you know me well and I know her well, you’ve got another connection to her, too.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s Clay’s cousin,” Abby shares.

She and Tony exchange bittersweet smiles.

“That is the MI-6 officer who was lost to a shooting, yes?” Ziva cuts in softly, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to make sure she’s following the conversation.

“Yeah, Clayton Reeves. He was a good friend.”

“Cool guy,” Tony agrees. “But I thought he didn’t have any family, Abby.”

“He didn’t know he did. Natalie tracked me down once I moved here, and she told me that she’d been looking for him for a long time after they were separated as little kids. And yes,” she adds, cutting off the questions that are clearly forming, “her story checks out. I know to be careful, too. Wouldn’t want Gibbs to show up guns blazing if I got myself in trouble, and we all know he would, damn the consequences.”

Maybe it’s Abby’s sincerity or maybe it’s that brief flash of regret for Reeves’ death, but something changes Tony’s mind. He wants to trust Clay’s cousin, and he wants to be able to trust people again.

Still, it’s not solely his decision, and when he turns to look at Ziva, he finds her already watching him. She seems to be thinking along similar lines, and they come to a silent decision. “If Natalie is who you say she is and if she does not mind staying while Tali sleeps, then… show us your favorite pub, Abby.”

From there on out, the night’s a blur.

_______________________

Waking up the next morning is rough, to put it delicately. Tony has a pounding headache and his mouth hasn’t felt this dry since his chat with Saleem in the desert of Somalia; the only bright side is that though he’s mildly nauseous, he doesn’t think he’ll actually be sick this time.

He’s certainly hungover, but the worst of it must already be behind him, he thinks. He probably escaped largely unscathed.

He hears Ziva gasp, and though moving seems like a terrible idea right now, he feels compelled to see what has startled her. He’s surprised to find that it’s him holding her gaze. “What?” he asks grumpily, not in the mood to be stared at.

“Is that a tattoo?”

“What!?” he repeats. “Where?”

She taps the inside of his right bicep, and he looks down. Holy effing shit. Looks like he didn’t survive the night unscathed, after all.

He looks back up at her in horror, but her shock has already given way to humor. She has her hands clapped over her mouth, sadistically gleeful. “Tony, tell me you did not!” she cries, though the proof is right in front of her.

“It’s probably temporary. It’ll wash off,” he decides, pushing past his throbbing headache to rise and go scrub the ink from his arm over the bathroom sink.

It does not wash off.

He comes back, feeling shell shocked, and sits down heavily on the bed. “Yes,” he mutters.

“Yes, what?”

“You asked if it was a tattoo,” he replies snidely, not enjoying her clear humor at his expense. “I’m saying yes. It is.”

The look on his face, half mildly shocked and half ornery, sends her over the edge. She starts laughing and can’t stop until there are tears in her eyes, because every time she glances at him and his general air of annoyance, the whole situation seems funnier.

Tony waits it out, arms crossed, and eventually, Ziva quiets. “You done?” he demands, unimpressed, and she nods, still grinning. “Good, because I have questions. What happened last night?”

That makes her shrug. “I do not remember much. I drank nearly as much as you did.”

“Then why aren’t you hungover?”

“Genetics?” she guesses, and he does not appreciate her still-smug expression. “Anyway, Tony, it is not so bad. The tattoo is pretty.”

“Pretty!?” Tony repeats incredulously. “I don’t want a pretty tattoo!” Ziva remains too tickled for his tastes, and it makes him grumpier. “I’m a man,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “A grown ass man. A manly man! I’m not pretty.”

“You are pretty, Tony, but that is beside the point.”

He still wants to argue, but at least that sounds like a well-intentioned compliment instead of a tease. “Then what is the point?”

“Do you know what your tattoo is?”

“Um, yeah, Ziva, I’m not that hungover. I know what a flower is.”

She chuckles but shakes her head. “I know you know that. But do you know what kind of flower it is?”

“When it comes to plants, if it’s not a rose or a sunflower, I probably can’t recognize it, no.”

Ziva reaches up and gently traces his new ink with her finger. It really is nice, she thinks, just a continuous-line outline, tasteful and, in her opinion, not ‘unmanly’ at all. “That is a narcissus papyraceus bloom, better known as the ziva flower.”

Tony’s eyes flicker from her hand to her face in surprise. “Are you serious?”

She nods.

“Huh. Not gonna lie, sweet cheeks, I didn’t know there was a ziva flower.” He looks back at the tattoo—though it’s on the inside of his arm, easy to hide if he doesn’t want it seen, it suddenly seems… not so bad. He is and will be hopelessly in love with Ziva, and after all the shit they survived, maybe it’s only fitting to carry something with him that’s so uniquely her.

“Now you will never forget,” she teases, interrupting his musing, and he reluctantly starts to see the humor in the situation after all.

“Guess not,” he agrees, rueful but not unhappy.

Ziva smiles, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Come, flower child,” she says. “Let us go check on our child.”

_______________________

At breakfast, Abby is upbeat and cheerful as usual, and she bustles about cooking five different things at once. “How are you two feeling this morning?” she wants to know.

Tony and Ziva exchange secret smiles. “We are no worse for the wear,” Ziva answers for the both of them.

“Glad to hear it! Man, you guys really let loose last night.”

“Yeah, we figured that out this morning,” Tony says with a laugh, reaching up reflexively to touch the physical reminder of the evening’s adventures.

Abby notices. “Oh, yeah, how’s that tattoo doing? You have to remember to put cream on it a couple of times a day. It’ll heal faster that way.”

“Thanks for the tip, Abbs. It feels alright.”

Abby pauses to flip a pancake and then turns to them again, gesturing with her spatula. “And how’s your tattoo, Ziva?”

“My what?” Ziva parrots in surprise.

Now Tony understands the evil glee Ziva felt earlier. Oh, he can’t wait to hear more about this, especially because Ziva found his surprise tattoo to be so amusing.

Turnabout, he remembers, is fair play.

#Alexandra thank you so much for the prompt!!!!#as someone with five tattoos i really enjoyed this one lmao #ncis #ncis fanfiction #tiva #tivali #tony dinozzo #ziva david #tal david dinozzo #abby sciuto #cynthia writes stuff too

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