#just remembered about never trust how you feel about your life after 9 pm (it's 2 am)
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let me see how i feel about this tomorrow morning
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dps memes as headcanons pt. 3:
when you ask to copy their homework
(as usual, i find these posts off pinterest!)
meeks:
- he probably never lets people copy his work (unless it’s an absolute emergency)
- not because he’s petty, but because he knows you’re not gonna learn unless you understand the material
- dw i feel like he’s such a nice teacher, and he’s used to tutoring the other poets, so he can offer several different strategies depending on how you learn best
neil:
- he understands getting caught up in life, so if you have an off day and can’t add homework to the stress, he’s got you
- his handwriting/work is really neat too so it’s easy to copy and translate into your own words (bc those teachers would KNOW if there was cheating)
- he’d probably even double check your paper to make sure it sounds original
knox:
- he’d give anyone the work if they asked tbh, he’s helpful but he probably wouldn’t be the best at trying to explain what he wrote
- idk why but i feel like his handwriting is a little bit messy? still legible but you have to read a little more carefully than neil’s
charlie:
- charlie definitely crams homework last minute, so he’s dead serious and probably forgot about it until now
- even if he did do the homework, he’d tease you about not having it done and then move on without remembering that you still need help
- “meeksie go help them with their homework”
pitts:
- whether he got help on his homework or not, he’s not gonna give it to you
- he doesn’t trust that the answers are right anyway, and he’s not gonna drag you down with him if they’re wrong
- (but he’d think it was kinda funny if you started complaining about how mean he was for leaving you hanging)
todd:
- he definitely forgot about it and you better hope it’s not too late at night because now you both have to finish the work
- the two of you go crying to meeks for help and end up having an impromptu study session
- after this you probably don’t ask him for the homework again, you guys just try to help remind each other
cameron:
- the work is done, but he doesn’t care to give it to you. especially if it’s late at night, this kid 100% has a strict bed time (besides when there are dps meetings and such)
- 9:00 PM or later? reads the notification, turns back over, and goes to sleep.
- he doesn’t let people copy his work anyway because that’s cheating😤
- he might help if you ask politely enough (or berate him enough, both strategies work), but he’s a really impatient teacher and probably scoffs at you a lot for not knowing how to do things
#dps memes as headcanons#dps headcanons#dead poets society#dps fandom#dps#dps boys#charlie dalton#steven meeks#knox overstreet#neil perry#gerard pitts#todd anderson#richard cameron
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LONDON ADVENTURE
Joseph Quinn & female y/n
Summary: You and Joe meet Jamie in New York…
Content Warning: rpf, drinking (don’t worry, Jamie is okay with it!)
Part 13
When you came out of the bathroom, Joe sat in the middle of the bed, still completely naked and obviously waiting for you to come back and lay between his legs, your back to his tummy. His happy trail tickled your lower back. “I think I will text Jen, just to let her know I’m good.” You tapped on your phone revealing the lock screen, which showed the time and date. “Oh love, we met a week ago!”, Joe gasped. “Yeah, we did.” “Best week of my life.”, Joe laid his arms around you even more tight than before. “Joe, don’t exaggerate.”, you looked at him with a straight face. “I don´t.”, he had a sudden serious facial expression. “Joe.”, a wave of self-doubt caught you right by your feet and threw you face forward on the ground. He could not be serious, he just could not be serious. Why would a person like him be attracted to a person like you. You moved away from him and grabbed the blanket to cover you up a bit. These moments came all of a sudden, self-doubt was a big part of your life. The fact that no men had shown the slightest interest in you did not make it better. You always asked yourself what was wrong with you, if you didn’t deserve love. And now it happened again. “What is going on love?”, Joe looked kind of scared. You tried to avoid his gaze. “I´m… I… I´m just….” Y/n! Stop!”, Joe grabbed your wrists and looked you deep in the eyes, he focused so much, that you could not escape his stare. Now Joe could see the tears in your eyes. “I know what is going on. Love, trust me. I´m not joking, you are the best thing that happened to me in a very long time. I love you. I told you yesterday and I´m going to tell you tomorrow, in a week, and in five years. I can´t describe how much you mean to me, how you make me feel. I never felt like this before. I understand that you are sceptical. The things you told me about you, it makes sense to me, but you have to believe me: You are an amazing human, you are beautiful, you are sexy and hot. You are a great story teller, I love how passionate you are about things you love. And that’s just what I can say about you after 7 days of knowing!” You were shocked. “I´m sorry.” That’s everything you were able to say. “Why are you sorry now?”, Joe chuckled. “I don’t know.” “Y/n.” “Thank you.” “For what?” “For blowing my doubts away instantly.” “I love you.” “I love you too.”
You woke up the next morning, Joe wasn’t there with you. On your nightstand you found a little message written on a piece of paper: “Doing press all day, I let you know when I´m done. Enjoy NYC, my love!” It was 9:30 am, the sunlight streamed into the room. You jumped into the shower, washed your hair and got ready to explore some more of New York City. Most of the day you spend in Brooklyn. You started your day trip at Coney Island, took the subway back to the Northern part of Brooklyn and visited the Green Wood Cemetery, the largest one in NYC and ended up in the heart of Dumbo. The last thing you did before returning to the hotel was crossing the Brooklyn Bridge back to Manhattan which was breath-taking, probably one of the best things you had done during that trip. It was already 7 pm when Joe called you, you were on your way from the subway station to the hotel. “Love, I cant believe it!”, he giggled into the phone uncontrollably. “What is going on?”, you loved his laughs and giggles, you just had to join him. “One of my best friends is in New York right now! Can we meet him later?” His question sounded a little bit like begging. “Joe, of course we can! Remember what I said about Gaten?” “Okay, love! Can you come to the Brandy Library, like right now? He´s there!” Joe sounded so excited, which made you excited as well, because damn, this person must mean a lot to him. “Yeah, I get there right now, I´ll text you when I´ll be there.” “Love you!”, cartwheels in your stomach. You googled the way and texted Joe that the way would take about 30 minutes with the subway. You turned around to go back to station and arrived at the bar at around 7:35 pm.
Joe stood in front of the building and greeted you with a tight hug and a loving kiss. “I missed you, y/n.” “You hugged him back trying to pull him closer, but it was simply impossible. Joe was so nervous, he made mini jumps when he loosened your hug and took your hand rapidly to pull you into the bar. He took a look around and when he saw who he was searching for he squeezed your hand even more than he had did before and walked up to the table in a fast speed. On the table there sat a thin man, with shoulder long and ash blonde hair, dressed all in black. He stood up and threw himself at Joe with a big smile, they tightly hugged, like you had did with Joe just a few seconds prior. They clapped each other on their backs, kissed their cheeks and couldn’t stop the chuckles. What was going on? Out of a sudden, Joe interrupted the cuddles and turned to you. “Jamie, that’s y/n.” Jamie gave you his hand and smiled politely, as if you hadn’t experienced that moment which had gone on with Joe. “I´m Jamie, hi. Heard a lot about you.” He was British. You knew him. “Hi, pleasure to meet you.”, you smiled too. Jamie waved his hand to show you both to sit down with him. Joe took your hand right away when you placed it on the table. Jamie looked at you and created a face expression which probably should tell Joe and you that he was happy for you. “Joe, finally!”, he said. “Yes, Jamie, finally!!!” They burst into laughter.
“Let me get us something to drink, I invite you! What do you want?” “Oh, I don’t know. What do you get?” “Probably just some water, I don’t know why I chose this place, they basically don’t have anything else.” You looked through the menu: “Well, Brandy must be good at a Brandy Library Bar.” “Jamie doesn’t drink, love.” “Oh, I´m sorry. Is it okay if I get something alcoholic?” You made a side eye to Joe, who thought back to your date at Sky Garden just like you did. Joe smiled. “Yes, I´m sober for 9 years now, I can deal with alcohol near me.”
You ordered your drinks which came really fast to your table. Joe and Jamie started to chat a bit, why they were in New York right now, how Jamies girlfriend Jess was and some more stuff. “So what do you think about Joe, y/n.” That was a surprising and direct question. “Eeehm.”, you could feel the heat rising in your head, your cheeks blushing. “He´s the best.” Joe pressed your hand a little tighter. “I had the best week of my life with him, not because he took me to New York. Just…” You looked at Joe, he looked at you. “A week? When you told me about her earlier on the phone I could have sworn you know her for at least half a year.”, Jamie chuckled. You still looked at each other, with pure love in your eyes, both of you.
“Oh, damn, Joe, you´re in love.” That teared you out of that little moment between you and Joe. “Yes, I am, pretty madly.”, Joe said to Jamie. “That’s great, I´m happy for you.”, he truly meant that. “So, y/n. You love him too?” “Yes, I really do.” “Did you know him before?” “Yes, to be honest. Heard of him before, but couldn’t figure out from where. It was more his name, than his face.” “Stranger Things?” “Yes.” “So you know me too.” “I think so. You were in Stranger Things too?” Joe interrupted your chat: “He´s Vecna. You should definitely recognize him, they basically have the same face.” Jamie laughed, it was a loud and heart warming laugh like Joe had. “Oh yeah. I did not have to sit in make up for 7 hours to get that face, it was all natural!” Joe burst into laughter.
You loved him even more like this, he seemed really happy. “Oh, Jamie, I missed you so fucking much. How long have we not met now, like at least half a year.” “Well, Mr. Quinn, Man of the year 2022, you´re kind of busy!” “But I don’t understand why we don’t get booked for the same conventions anymore.” “I don’t know, sucks, really, sucks. Give the people what they want I’d say!” “Where are you from, Jamie?” “London, like Joe, that bonds.” “But why can´t you meet some time in London?” Joe explained: “So Jamie´s working in the states a lot, the only times he was in London in the past few months, I was in the states at that time.
“Oh.” , realising that you probably had to go through this at one point in your relationship as well. “But it’s the same every time we meet. It´s like we see each other every day.”, Joe says. “Yeah, we keep in touch over our phones too. But it’s not the same.” Yes, its not the same. How would being intimate look like in a long-distance relationship. Not just the sex, but the cuddles, the kisses, the hugs… Joes love language was physical touch. Would he miss it and fall out of love with you? Again, anxiety creeped up in your stomach, creating a knot in your throat. Joe noticed your nervous face expression and squeezed your knee under the table.
You weren’t able to follow most of the conversation, Joe and Jamie wallowed in memories: the stranger things promo in Brazil, spending time in Tokyo together, and some conventions they did together, but also, some more private stuff, Jamie talked a lot about his relationship. After some drinks and finger food, you three left the bar and said goodbye in front of it on the sidewalk. “It was lovely to meet you, y/n.”, he smiled at you with a wide grin and hugged Joseph. Jamie whispered into his ear, Joe had to chuckle loudly. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”, Joe said while laughing. Jamie left with a taxi and waved out of the car window. “Should we go for a walk, love?” “Yes.”, you replied. He grabbed your hand and started walking. “What did he just say to you, Joe?” Joe grinned again: “I´m sorry, I can´t tell you.”
To be continued…
taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak @keirasreplies
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn imagine#eddie munson#joe quinn#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x y/n#fluffy#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn rpf#rpf fic#joe quinn rpf#stranger things#jamie campbell bower#Jamie Campbell bower rpf
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Artist Interview
Happy Boxing Day! I was tagged by @you-are-so-much-better-than-that in this artist interview.
1. Do you post on AO3? If so, how many works do you have on AO3? If not, where do you post?
I do post on AO3 as Suzy_Queue. I have two art galleries there, one for general art and one for Kinktober 2022.
2. What is your total art count?
If you count art done for other people's stories, headers for my own stories, and Gallacrafts pieces, it's around 150.
3. What are your top 5 pieces by likes/kudos?
I use this cool website to get my full Tumblr stats. According to them:
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes! Although I'm not the fastest at it.
5. What is your current fandom, and what was the first fandom you drew for?
Currently, it's Gallavich all the way. The first fandom I remember drawing for was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, making my own comics. (they were 7th-grade-girl bad).
6. Have you ever received hate on any art?
Nope, people are very supportive, even on pieces that I know aren't that great.
7. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t drawn for yet but want to?
I can't really think of any.
8. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
The one that has lived in my brain for the longest part of my life is Han/Leia.
9. Do you draw outside of fandom?
Yeah! I was an art major in college. I've been a professional artist for 20 years and have created art for book covers, movie posters, album covers, logos. I go to figure drawing sessions at a local art school and am in a nature journaling group. I've displayed my horror art at conventions around the country.
10. What’s the an art piece you’ve drawn that came out completely differently than you expected?
This was the first piece I ever drew on a tablet with a pressure-sensitive pen. It was an experiment to learn the tools. I had no idea how it would look, and it turned out all right.
11. Do you draw smut?
Yep! There's some smut in this gallery.
12. Have you ever had any of your art stolen or copied?
Not that I know of.
13. Have you ever collaborated on a piece?
I've created art for stories working with the author, but I've never co-drawn a piece of art. Unless you count playing Exquisite Corpse with my children.
14. What’s an idea you have that you have yet to draw?
Oh, I have a lot. The one I think about most is a picture of Ian and Mickey in a lineup at jail, looking disheveled, hung over, and completely in love.
15. What are your drawing strengths?
I like my compositions a lot, the flow of items throughout the picture. I feel like I'm good at drawing what I see in a realistic way, whether it's a photo or real life.
16. What are your drawing weaknesses?
Drawing from memory/imagination. I have to have reference photos of what I'm doing or I go off the rails. I need to develop more trust in my own style and lean into weird proportions and my own skewed vision.
17. What’s your favorite art piece you’ve drawn?
I'm quite partial to this book cover art I did. It's spray paint, pastel, and acrylic. It's about 4 feet tall.
18. What is one thing you’d like to tell people about your art that they might not know?
Just because I've been doing it for a while doesn't mean I'm not still learning every day.
19. What inspires or motivates you to create for fandom?
I have a lot of emotional energy churning below the surface. Creating art and fics helps get it out. It's a much more positive outlet than letting it brew.
20. And finally, can you describe your process a little? Do you have a favorite place to draw? Do you play something in the background? Do you do research or just go for it? Give us a little insight.
I have a basement office where I write and draw. I bought a new table this year which I absolutely love. I do most of my creative work between 9-11 pm after the rest of my family has gone to bed. I do love music and play it a lot while I draw.
I research a ton. I spend a lot of time making photo compositions for every piece I draw, which are collages of body parts and other images.
Thank you so much for the tag for this interview!
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June 2007
June 4, 2007
goodbye the longest year of my life.
sometimes i want to blow my head but not in a hottopic kind of way.
i am global warming.
i am toxic.
sometimes i am glad i saved everything for a rainy day.
i am a wish.
i am under your skin.
i love you and life:
separate but never equal.
fuck it.
its all okay.
"Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run..."
posted by xo at 8:05 PM
June 6, 2007
“its easy to get older not so much wiser”
"pooh"
"yes, piglet"
"nothing, i just wanted to be sure of you"...
posted by xo at 8:40 AM
June 7, 2007
“fuck the palm readers, i love mirror breakers.”
i have an obsession with sitting inside a confessional in church and hearing someone else spill their guts for once.
id almost take an oath for it.
get me out of new york.
this city only gets me up to making bad decisions.
love, the last boy.
posted by xo at 10:40 PM
"the christian in christian dior, damn they dont make them like they used to anymore..."
if i bashed your head in how good would the secrets be that poured out.
posted by xo at 4:00 PM
June 9, 2007
“late night snack”
the light splashes in and out. its almost violent. everything rational inside of me tells me that its the dull white of a voicemail. but my eyes are playing tricks on me. i see it purple textured velvet. the tv is blaring whatever. i can see light is sneaking in the cracks everywhere of this suite. like vermin. take a vote, the eyes have it. there is too much space here. between me and everything else in this room. i wish i had a habit bad or not just to pass the time. just trying to fight the big black sadness.
June 9, 2007
“sic transit itum”
Theres an opposite to deja vu. They call it jamais vu. Its when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first time. Everybody is s stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.
This isn't learning from my mistakes anymore so much as it is damage control. I might as well be trying to paint a house that's on fire.
Posted by xoat 11:33 PM
June 11, 2007
“counting sheep and you.”
tour life has got my fingers spitting from a pornographed philosophers mind. girls with bruises in designer patterns. too full off the diet pills to be hungry for iceburg lettuce and water lite when it shows up. i trapped you in my head a long time ago. i am a treasure chest filled with trash. two orders: one near tears and one beer tears. just put em on my tab.
dont you dare tell me about true fucking love. i spit and punched and blood for it. and now i want to sleep inside of it.
June 12, 2007
“cantsleepcantsleepcantsleep”
dont you feel bad for the suicidal cat thats stuck with 9 lives.
my head only goes from zero to rage.
like a domesticated animal giving into instinct.
carved our names into a tree
and i dont care that i saw it first in some movie.
i think ill always go back and see if it sticks.
i feel like the santa maria. like i got there just after the discovery.
heads like this are gonna go extinct.
posted by xo at 5:53 AM
June 14, 2007
“lullabye.”
everybody is dropping like flies.
the truth is i am a slave to my head and my thoughts, not the other way around.
i am the hand up the skirt of this moment. over underwear, under pants.
under medicated. underwhelmed.
me and you in a not so private corner.
duke it out with our lips and teeth.
ill find the love if its there between your cavities.
dust it off.
its a cold hard ride back from where ive been.
what ive seen.
and what ive done.
or how ive come undone.
apples that make your teeth bleed
love that makes my heart coma-
keep careful count of your tears in that corner-
the market is shit.
they arent going for what they used to.
keep em in a jar-
bury them in a wine cellar.
so you can remember when you felt like just a madman.
im a trust junkie.
i need a fix.
i have so much i want to say. none of it is eloquent or poetic- referencing change and belief- lies and betrayal. how sometimes this ride doesnt feel fun anymore, when the press is controlling it. i will post when i have formulated all of the thoughts. i am tired of constantly defending this, its enough to defend it to the world- but to defend it to believers has drained me. i am only human, a kind of lousy one at that. i am 1/4 of this thing that has felt magical to me for so long. i dont want to lose it. i hope this makes some sense.
i hope i am a boomerang on its way back not some stone sinking in the sea.
thank you to everyone who has stood beside this and me- in both the light and the dark. it means more than a handshake or hug or song,,,
on a good note. the video felt genuinely fun to make. so thank you for taking part in it. the smiles are real.
goodnight.
posted by xo at 11:49 PM
June 17, 2007
“i may be just a dime store prophet. but youre a dollar store whore.”
so i guess i am on the up. thunder on runways cant even kill the boredom. the tips of my fingers bruised from the letters on the typewriter. but if feels so much more final than this. and that is why i love it. and i said the last time i was put in handcuffs it was over a can of spraypaint. she said 'someday i want to spraypaint with you". and that is why i love her. in a backyard, lying on the couch on a sunday kind of way. one that is not explained or thought out. but runs up the back of your legs to the back of your head and crashes out of my mouth whenever you show up. what keeps your head together when you feel the tilt and spin of the world. what keeps those club jaws grinding in between the trips to the bathroom. the best week never. theyre taking stabs at me while im leaning and yawning, but sometimes YOU get through. pinpricks become blackholes and i feel my moods pulled into them. whats up with my obsession with your obsessions. been writing so much lately the paper is starting to add up. theres a part of me that wants to take a match to it sometimes late at night- the same part inside that cant walk next to balconies for fear that i am going to jump off of them.
i can make a mess of anything. but its strange to say when a stranger can bring you peace. you just swaying in the heat of the meet and greet. a face and a voice i dont know. just a tap on the shoulder and a "keep your chin up" from you. but there was a kindness there that brought me back. thank you.
June 19, 2007
so obvious but: i fucking hate this sugar free low carb diet world. i want the wild fucking west. i want love in handcuffs. i want more scars. i dont want this fucking future. meth bake sales to lower global warming. sweat shop work to burn calories. i hope this ship burns before it sinks. i hope this planes air goes bad before it crashes. i dont want this to be an affair anymore, i want to walk down the aisle with catastrophe. lets go to hell just for the weekend. your happiness is making me miserable. waste the time of my life. and if that mocking bird wont sing, im gonna buy you a diamond ring.
i only feel in love on the stage and on the side of a pillow. everything in between just makes me wish myself to pieces. please dont put me back together, keep me in a box under your bed.
June 20, 2007
i hate explaining my own interpretations to people. id rather you come up with your own- but this one seems to be pretty glaring....
there is a distinct difference between the idea "seasons change, but people dont" and the idea "everyone changes". this difference is simply the connotations of the two. in the former: the idea is brought forth that there are certain parts of you that are inherently there. forever. whether they are a part of your DNA or how you were raised- they are so deep and solidly rooted they cannot change. to me these are your ideals, your morality, your internal monologue. they remain constant though are defined differently as your mind and heart mature. to simplify, people who are kind have something switched on within them that will not change. on the other extreme malicious people will always be malicious. not to say there isnt gray area between the two- where someone who is kind can act maliciously and vice versa. obviously there are more rare examples where something can impact someone in such a tremendous way that it will cause a deep change in them. these remain constant through celebrity, through tragedy, through happiness, through loss. i can feel certain things in myself and ways that i know i will always feel- no matter what else changes around me. if you read my actual diary entries from when i was 14 to now, while the language and subject matter has changed- and hopefully has gotten a bit better. my subconscious impacting me and my decisions seems to remain faithful. however, what was meant by the latter "everyone changes, i used to be tiny", is the idea of growing up. honestly, i am not who i was a year ago or 5 years ago or 10 years ago. i think i would hate myself if i never changed. this is an experiment more than anything. if new cultures, people, and art didnt impact me and change me than this would be fraudulent. we expect any of our fans who have been with us from the beginning have grown and changed. i hope most of these changes are for the better, though i know i am human and make mistakes. sometimes i turn right when i should have turned left. but anything you loved or hated about me from the beginning have not changed- these are the things that make us each different from each other and either magnetize or polarize from others.
June 22, 2007
“the AMERICAN dayDREAMer - die-a-tribe”
when they rip the tickets i hope im on the ride with you. sleepless in seattle and pretty much everywhere else- wont bore you with the details, but actually i probably will. you dont have to be a train to come off track. dont have to have feathers to flee the coop. i dont gotta tell you about my adventures, i keep them in my head and forget them and remember them every once in awhile. i watch them on projector screens while you are talking about your magazine or countdown. were flypaper baby- but nothings sticks. molded from teflon and porcelain. doesnt take much shining around for you to want to get back under that rock you crawled out from. i found a point when i was searching for pointlessness. i found a love when i was looking for madness. gonna save your sweat for when we get to heaven. autocratic hearts and throats- tongues loving on the skin and words- listening too carefully and robbing them of their beauty. you only think im blooming when im wilting on the outside. dying to be dearly forgotten, not wrongly remembered. florescent yellow in the toilet bowl. i love holding strangers hands, pulses matching, beating just off the p.a. speakers. you dont have to sell me on how this isnt real, cause my guts are whats in deep not my head or my heart. sometimes i get the feeling when i walk into a room like im in some movie from the forties where ive been shipwrecked and marooned on a desert island, only to return to a life that is no longer mine. or maybe just a raft adrift, except i slept through the s.o.s. calls. the caveman frozen in ice analogy works as well, only i am too lazy to transcribe it. im projecting. im bobbing and weaving. im deflecting. only cos i want to mean more than all of this. i lost it at woodrow and nichols, brakes ground to my teeth. just a kid strung out on neon lights
June 26, 2007
dear man in the mirror: get over yourself.
i love it when people wonder how its gonna end.
my right hand is fucked.
boxers fracture im pretty sure and a cut down the front that we super glue every night.
if i shake you yr hand with my left thats why.
im clumsy-
with both actions and words.
what happens in vegas stay in vegas except for when brendon hit me with a bowling ball.
deaths just the other bookend on this thing, so who cares.
posted by xo at 12:28 AM
June 28, 2007
The world is your oyster, what does that mean? That I'm just grinding sand waiting to be sucked down by box dye blondes and chased with hynotik. .... dumb-luck, but there's no such thing as smart luck. Think It got us kicked out of vegas. Happy as a clam but how happy can clams be? Dreaming of being steamed or robbed of their only worldly possession, pearls, sounds like a total soccer mom fantasy- only with upscale spas and mugger fantasies. I am a starfish waiting to regenerate a point. Till then, I am kind of pointless. I got a bad rap for not caring but I still pay taxes and wear my seat-belt in back seats- though I'm considering changes. I am a fixer-upper. Feeling the buzz but too far off the hive for any of the other bees to get it. And man I gotta tell you, the years are like friends in your old hometown. They stop being so friendly. They only want to reminisce. And no matter what they keep moving and changing you whether you want them to or not. The doctor says I need to stop talking with my fist and do more talking with my mouth. I told him I was never too great at that either- that it was usually my mouths talking that had to get my fist involved in the conversation. He said well then I had better start throwing a good left or hope I can play bass one handed. Neither seems too reasonable right now. Thinking maybe I should just stop all together. I order every movie in hotel rooms just so I don't feel alone. Its a very home alone moment for me, you know without the holiday music and cute culkin looks, but I'm hoping you are catching my drift anyway. Yes, for those who wonder there are other journals online. Sometimes I kind of leave bread-crumbs to get home to them for you. Sometimes I just space out. I also have a pen and paper diary and some letters and what not that I have been typing on my typewriter. I've been working on other visual art too, nothing I like well enough to show anyone. Its more for my own piece of mind. Drive, fuck, and sleep safe. I'd like to know that you awaken in the morning with out a headache or blurry eyes. Love is in the air, just get ourselves the right equipment to grab it. Its like moths headed for the brightest light, which aint me. But I'm ready to sweat and run and get there. And just cause you got a scar on your wrist or a charcoal stomach, were supposed to get eachother? Cause I don't really even get me. I'm too busy calling everyone else crazy- in these late slurred debates on how everyone else is not exactly like us- to worry about you calling me crazy. Tho all the other rhymes for crazy work on me lazy, hazy, etc.
someone has some great pictures of this past week. if i find any, ill post some.
June 28, 2007
from pete's friends or enemies blog
June 28, 2007
“the pretend”
i never really appreciate the compliments people give me. i feel like people say them because they feel like they have to- "youre hot"- except in my head i dont see myself that way so it doesnt mean a thing. "you played great tonight"- except i probably didnt because its not really my thing. "i love your words"- except they only make sense to me out of patricks mouth. "i love you"- but you wouldnt if you knew me. and so on.
but the other day my friend told me: "you have an incredible sense of the pretend". and it made me shake. just in the way that its all i believe. i dont care too much for the ins and outs of the world we are inside. i like the one in my head far better. it is not chronological or pragmatic. but it meant alot to me.
as did this...
so i cant fully remember writing this entry. that is because my brain is scattered and resets all of the time. the only thing i save room for are faces and memories. maybe it is a collection of entries. but apparantly someone cared enough to remember or patch together an entry from a year ago... so thank you (i think they made little changes or additions here and there). its funny because i am in vancouver all over again, it rings so much more true now.
"and like florence nightingale and nurses through history. we fall in love with those were protecting and curing. we dream big and then wake up everyday and hunch over computer screens. and everytime we let our fingers go it amounts to a little more than the worlds smallest violin paying just for you. here i am half asleep between vancouver and salt lake city. can't remember the last time i had a conversation with you that wasn't from between the dotted lines of the highway. i don't want sheep or parrots. i feel like we have a vested interest in each other. it's love of sorts. you were there in the beginning, you've stuck around when everyone else climbed aboard, i hope you're there when it's gone. for all the times we've come off course, you have always served as a compass. steady. unforgiving. at times hard to find. but you were always there. this probablly isn't worth your time to read. but as long as you do we'll keep playing small, secret shows. we'll keep writing this. we'll keep ignoring what they say. this is we- everyone- the haters, the newbies, the so, the ckk, ock. a collective [[sigh of relief]]. everyone always asks what's the cure of growing up? this is it. it's you. the smiling faces screaming and 'doging' security in the front row. the kid that waits outside after the show until their hands are blue just to say hi. don't ever let me fucking forget it. we don't deserve this. but now that we got it. we will do our best to keep it like a kiss in the corner of our mouths. for our heads to your speakers, to your ears, to your mouths, to you, your fingers, to us, to our mistakes, to our heads and back. the new songs are coming. what if for one moment we became everyone we dreamed we could be? there is a buzzing from outside of this darkened room. as though if i walked down the hallway past their sleeping faces, red in the warmth of the afternoon. i would walk into the first day of my life. light gleaming off the windshield- like the wizard of oz after the color washes over everything. like i could start all over again- only with the same faces that are imprinted on my heart forever. and my same bed. and dogs. and ex- loves. and friends. save your troubles for another day, they wern't at the end of the hallway. baby boy, you're too busy writing tragedy to notice. we're shaping up to do big things. and you're nothing special. except.. what if you are? "
posted by xo at 8:01 PM
June 29, 2007
i never really appreciate the compliments people give me. i feel like people say them because they feel like they have to- "youre hot"- except in my head i dont see myself that way so it doesnt mean a thing. "you played great tonight"- except i probably didnt because its not really my thing. "i love your words"- except they only make sense to me out of patricks mouth. "i love you"- but you wouldnt if you knew me. and so on.
but the other day my friend told me: "you have an incredible sense of the pretend". and it made me shake. just in the way that its all i believe. i dont care too much for the ins and outs of the world we are inside. i like the one in my head far better. it is not chronological or pragmatic. but it meant alot to me.
as did this...
so i cant fully remember writing this entry. that is because my brain is scattered and resets all of the time. the only thing i save room for are faces and memories. maybe it is a collection of entries. but apparantly someone cared enough to remember or patch together an entry from a year ago... so thank you (i think they made little changes or additions here and there). its funny because i am in vancouver all over again, it rings so much more true now.
"and like florence nightingale and nurses through history. we fall in love with those were protecting and curing. we dream big and then wake up everyday and hunch over computer screens. and everytime we let our fingers go it amounts to a little more than the worlds smallest violin paying just for you. here i am half asleep between vancouver and salt lake city. can't remember the last time i had a conversation with you that wasn't from between the dotted lines of the highway. i don't want sheep or parrots. i feel like we have a vested interest in each other. it's love of sorts. you were there in the beginning, you've stuck around when everyone else climbed aboard, i hope you're there when it's gone. for all the times we've come off course, you have always served as a compass. steady. unforgiving. at times hard to find. but you were always there. this probablly isn't worth your time to read. but as long as you do we'll keep playing small, secret shows. we'll keep writing this. we'll keep ignoring what they say. this is we- everyone- the haters, the newbies, the so, the ckk, ock. a collective [[sigh of relief]]. everyone always asks what's the cure of growing up? this is it. it's you. the smiling faces screaming and 'doging' security in the front row. the kid that waits outside after the show until their hands are blue just to say hi. don't ever let me fucking forget it. we don't deserve this. but now that we got it. we will do our best to keep it like a kiss in the corner of our mouths. for our heads to your speakers, to your ears, to your mouths, to you, your fingers, to us, to our mistakes, to our heads and back. the new songs are coming. what if for one moment we became everyone we dreamed we could be? there is a buzzing from outside of this darkened room. as though if i walked down the hallway past their sleeping faces, red in the warmth of the afternoon. i would walk into the first day of my life. light gleaming off the windshield- like the wizard of oz after the color washes over everything. like i could start all over again- only with the same faces that are imprinted on my heart forever. and my same bed. and dogs. and ex- loves. and friends. save your troubles for another day, they wern't at the end of the hallway. baby boy, you're too busy writing tragedy to notice. we're shaping up to do big things. and you're nothing special. except.. what if you are? “
June 30, 2007
I have a new girlfriend
The iphone.
posted by xo at 4:46 PM
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july 22, 2023 9:39 pm
it happened again. i’m beginning to think you’re some kind of mix of beetlejuice or voldemort, where you say or think the name and then BAM. there you are.
i wish it was comical. it almost is. but i’m just not there yet. i don’t see any of it as funny where as normal me would. the before me, at least. we both know i’ve never been normal a day in my life and nothing between us has never been so, either.
this time, instead of an awkward wave off a steering wheel, i got a peace sign out the window. why does it enrage me so much? i’ll tell you why.
it feels like continued gaslighting. that, oh! let me just wave or peace sign it and it’s all ok! nothing changed! eh! wrong! convenient, that for you, nothings different. i should’ve known better. then and now and every single fucking time in between. you’d probably tell me as always, i’m overthinking things. and ya know? MAYBE I AM! but you don’t get to do that and you don’t get to fucking wave at me. b
i want to hate you. regret you. part of me does. i want to scream at you. i did, but you didn’t hear me. every time this happens, my blood instantly boils as if it’s in an electrical kettle set to HIGH and fills me with such a white hot rage i worry i might turn into the hulk herself. i don’t know who i am when this anger takes over and the more this happens, the less i trust myself to not self sabotage. of course, because naturally — i’m worried about self sabotage and you’re fine. fucking typical.
it took me an hour and a half, nearing two to calm down and i still haven’t settled into homeostasis and honestly? i don’t think i will for a while. it’s embarrassing. this whole fucking thing, this whole fucking time has been embarrassing. from loving you so boldly, writing all of this, to enabling your bad behavior. she says as she rattles an orange bottle. it’s pavlovian as it is embarrassing and speaking of! i had to get on meds just to fucking cope and i have to say: i much rather raw dog it. this new medication makes me feel like hot syrup that was put in the microwave too long. that doesn’t make any sense. but neither does the feelings that easy over me when i take it.
i already don’t recognize myself in the literal and figurative mirror. i’m not sleeping or sleeping too much and eating! oh forget about it. maybe one or one and a half meals a day if i remember. and don’t worry, although 85% of this can be attributed to us and our tailspin into molton lava, i can’t give you all the credit. we don’t need to talk about the other 15%. that’s not why we’re here. but i will say to that: this is me doing my very best.
it’s starting to feel scary in the sense that i’m losing whatever grip of reality i had. what’s real? what’s not? always a question i ask throughout my day, even when things were good between us. now, it’s a war torn battle field and i don’t know which way is up. do i need a permanent vacation? i don’t know and i don’t know how to fully answer that. but it does scare me.
you’ve broken me many times and i’ve put myself back together many times. but this time? this time the pieces are too small and i can grab them with my fingers after years of shattering on the hardwood floor.
i’m never going to know or feel peace as long as i’m here. you made me hate this city.
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Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea | Chapter 5-9
1Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.
Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.
Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault
Word Count: 14.3K
1-4, 5-9, Epilogue
Chapter 5
Spencer agreed to a Thursday night game night in her office sometime last week, and she’s spent every day since then planning it out for him.
Learning that he really loved Tandoori chicken, making it from scratch at home and packaging it into a couple containers to bring into work. She followed a recipe from Pinterest, hoping it bared any resemblance to what he was used to, only changing full chicken to boneless bite size cutlets, because he couldn’t use a knife in the prison.
She got a chess set at the store, as well as a deck of playing cards for the Vegas boy. Rushing out her door early Thursday morning so she could stop and get a coffee and one of his favourite doughnuts too.
Deciding that she wasn’t going to tell him how she felt any time soon, just wanting to show him friendship and support until he was finally out of prison. Vowing to uphold her oath, he was a patient in her care, she would care for him as such until he wasn’t.
She carefully placed her lunchbox and the chess set on the security desk, letting them look through it as she waited. Taking out all the food from her bag, looking through the plastic to ensure she wasn’t sneaking in anything.
“It’s just my lunch for the next 2 days, I promise,” she smiled.
“I know, but I have to look anyway,” the nice man smiled. “Have a good day today Dr. Pat.”
“Thank’s, you too, officer Kyle,” she smiled, picking her things back up and heading past the gates.
Spencer was turning the corner towards the infirmary as she walked towards the door. Officer Wilkins holding him in handcuffs as he roughly walked Spencer to her office.
“Hey, hey, hey,” she stopped, looking at Wilkins like he was an idiot. “Un-cuff inmate Reid, he’s not a threat. Plus, he can hold some things for me.”
“Whatever,” he huffed, roughly taking the cuffs off Spencer's wrists before leaving. Not saying another word.
“What a dick,” she mumbled as she handed him the lunchbox.
“Good morning Spencer,” she changed her tone to match her growing smile.
He sighed, smiling back as he rubbed his wrists. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”
She opened the infirmary door, walking past all the sleeping men in the care area. Unlocking her office before inviting Spencer in. “Sorry I was almost late,” she said softly, taking the chess set and a brown paper bag out of her purse.
She set it on Spencer's desk along with the coffee that was in her hand, “for all your help this week,” she smiled.
Spencer placed her lunchbox in her fridge, laying a hand on her back as he walked past her towards his desk. “You’re too kind to me,” he was bashful as always.
“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” she closed the door softly, making sure the blinds on the doors window were closed as well.
“That doesn’t sound good,” he tried to joke as he sat down.
“I asked to help with your case, maybe give a fresh opinion, so Penelope sent me all the files but I haven’t opened them yet,” she sat on the edge of her desk. Trying to read his body language as he took out his donut.
He liked the pink frosting off his finger, nodding as he followed along. “Why not?”
“I wanted your permission,” she pressed her lips together in an awkward smiled. His eyes raising to meet hers, innocent as ever.
“Oh?”
“You’re very reserved, you have rules about what you share, I don’t want to break the trust we’ve built by looking into something so intimate,” she explained her thoughts. “It’s not fair for me to learn about the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, without you being the one to tell me.”
“What do you know already?” He asked softly, blinking at her as he patiently waited.
She smiled at him softly, grateful that he understood. “I know the 3 charges that you’re in on, and that you’re being framed.”
“I think I would prefer it if you read the file and just asked me questions. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to recite it all back to you today,” he was honest. Taking a sip of his coffee and looking away from her.
Giving up so much of himself to her so early in the day, she felt like he was finally comfortable with her.
She found the key to his thoughts and it opened just right, she could see the hurt that flowed through him, but she could also see the happiness. The side of him that he was afraid to bring out, in fear it would get him in more trouble.
“Okay,” she agreed. Sitting at her desk and finally opening the email form Penelope.
She read through his tox-screens, his drug history, his mental state. His first-hand accounts, witness statements, clues and findings his team had made. It all felt like the plot to a bad movie about revenge, possibly even female rage. But for what?
“I finished reading,” she said softly, brows furrowed as she chews the inside of her cheek. “Do you know anyone other than this Mr. Scratch guy who you’ve put away, wronged, lead on, or just pissed off?”
“Why?” He asked, clearly attached to the idea this was all Mr. Scratch’s doing.
“It feels like revenge, but very well planed. Like a women is mad at you so she found your weakness, I’ve done mean shit to exes in the past but this is insane. They knew you’d do anything for your mom, they knew your drug history, and the fact you might get schizophrenia one day, they wanted to drug you and make you think you did all this.”
Spencer stood then, listening to her words as he scrunched his face. Thinking as hard as he could, “can you call Penelope?”
“Yeah,” she nodded as she dialled her number, putting her on speaker phone.
“Well hello there, Love Doctor,” Penelope teased as she answered.
“Um hi, Spencer wanted to talk to you,” she panicked.
“Oh, sorry, how are you Spencer?”
Spencer looked so confused, “I’m good… Y/N and I were looking at the case files you sent-”
“Good, did you find anything?” Penelope cut in, eager to talk to him.
“Have you looked into everyone I’ve ever encountered on a case? Specifically women?” Spencer asked. “I told my lawyer and Emily that I remember a woman being there and helping, she must know me from a case too, like the other prison escapees he’s helped?”
“On it pretty boy, any specifics about her that you remember?” Penelope asked over the sound of her keyboard clicking away.
“Long brown hair, but it’s probably different now,” he added. “Everything else is dark, I didn’t see her face or any other features.”
“Alright, call me anytime Spence, I miss you,” Penelope said softly, changing her tone to a more sensitive one. “Take care of each other, my loves.”
“Love you,” they say at the same time. Looking at each other awkwardly after she hung up, leaving them to sit with their words alone.
Spencer was leaning so close to her she could feel his body heat radiating off him. Spencer placed his hand on her shoulder as he stood straight, towering over her as she looked up at him.
“I have patients to talk to, but I brought chess for you to teach me later,” she smiled up at him.
“Can’t wait,” he beamed a smile back.
She felt his hand rub the back of her blue scrubs lightly, pulling away as he walked back around to his desk. She watched him with careful eyes, wishing he would have stayed longer.
—
Normally at 4:30, Y/N would bring Spencer a tray of whatever the kitchen was serving her patients for dinner that night. Tonight, however, she walked into her office at 5 pm on the dot, closing the clinic for the night and putting all her attention on Spencer.
“So,” she smiled as she leaned against her office door, excitement radiating out of her. “A little birdie told me that you really like Indian food, Tandoori chicken to be exact…”
“No way?” He gasped as he turned around in his chair.
She nodded with a cheeky grin, “homemade so I could sneak it in.”
She took her lunch box out of her mini-fridge, opening it up to show him the 2 Tupperware containers. One for him, the other for her. She took the lids off and dished it onto 2 plates she keeps in the cabinet above the fridge.
Spencer grew more and more excited as she warmed it up, filling the room with a familiar smell. He was so happy, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you do for me?”
“Come here,” she said softly, watching him walk towards her carefully.
She wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him in a hug. He carefully placed his hands on her back, holding her against his chest as he snuggled his cheek into her hair again.
“I’ll take hugs as payment from now on,” she pulled back from him as the microwaved beeped.
Taking a plastic spoon from the cutlery jar, she opened the microwave and handed him a plate. “Did you want to stay in here or go to the break room? I never use it cause I don’t have any co-workers, but it has a couch and a coffee table?”
“Okay,” he smiled. Taking the plate from her and waiting for her to warm up her own meal before taking a bite.
He was ever the gentleman.
Y/N reached back into her lunch box, taking out the package of naan bread, seeing Spencer’s eyes basically roll into the back of his head. “You thought of everything?”
“Bread is my life,” she laughed.
When her food was ready, she placed it on top of the chess box and led the way down to the break room. Spencer holding every door for her.
She flicked on the lights in the break room, watching them strobe before making that awful powering up frequency. She groaned, putting her food on the table before turning on a few lamps instead.
The room went from bright and anxious to relaxed and personal, the amber glow bouncing off the cream walls, it was nice. As nice as it could be in a prison. She never thought she’d be having a date at a prison.
That’s basically what this was, a date.
She made him dinner, they were going to play games, he was going to sit right beside her, close enough to kiss. She really wanted to, she’s thought about it a lot, his pink lips were perfect and she just wanted to see how they’d feel between her own.
But she wont.
“Dig in honey,” the name rolled over her tongue like it was always meant to.
She felt his eyes on her right away, realizing that she called him honey in a situation where he wasn’t crying, where he wasn’t vulnerable. She said it as a term of endearment, she couldn’t stop the embarrassment form settling in her veins.
She sat beside his softly, picking up her dinner and pretending it didn’t happen. “Thank you,” Spencer cut into the awkwardness.
“You’re welcome,” she said softly. Feeling like she could flip inside out at any moment.
From the corner of her eye she saw him take the first bite, closing his eyes as he appreciated the moment. His shoulders settled as he chewed, she could swear he almost moaned as he ate it. She has had the food in the cafeteria before, she understood his reaction.
“That good?” She asked, teasing him softly.
He nodded, silent as he took it all in. He took another bite, and another, she felt like he was going to get the hiccups at this rate but it was too cute to stop. He was like a stray dog eating inside for the first time in months, it made her happy and then a little sad.
He stayed quiet the whole time. Crossing his legs as he sat on the couch, the plate pulled in close to his chest as he shovelled spoonfuls of food into his mouth. She sat there admiring him as he did so, falling more and more every time she glanced at him.
“That was delicious,” Spencer said as he stood, placing his plate on the counter across the room. “Are you done?” He asked, taking her plate as she reached it out to him.
“Yeah, thanks,” she watched him carefully, always wanting to help her in whatever way he could.
He didn’t sit on the couch when he came back, instead, sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, taking the chess set out and beginning to set it up. Not wanting to miss a moment of the freedom he felt when he was with her.
“So, chess is pretty easy to learn,” he said, looking up at her through thick eyelashes as he spoke. “Do you know any of the rules yet?”
“Um, I know where they all go, I know that you can’t go through other pieces and the horse gets to jump?” She tried to remember all the way back to grade 4, the last time someone explained the rules to her.
He was so soft with her, explaining the rules and showing her what to do. His hand would lightly brush over hers occasionally, eventually, he’d just guide her hand over the pieces that she should move. It was so nice to just be alone with him, knowing they were both allowed to be happy.
The room was mostly silent, only the sound of Spencer's advice and her giggle as she still wasn’t grasping the concept of the game.
“I just like, don’t care about the rules?” She couldn’t stop giggling at the fact she wasn’t picking up on anything he said.
Spencer laughed, it was deep and hearty, right from his soul, “then how do you want to play?”
She picked up the queen and moved it to a random spot, “I want to put this here and fight your guy. That’s why I don't get this, what is my XP? What are their skills? I was raised on Pokemon, honey.”
He made his way back to the couch, sitting closely beside her. “Well sugar pie, do you have any other games you want to play?”
She couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His hands wrapped around her waist on instinct as they connected.
It was everything she imagined. Soft, gentle, refreshing. Like a cold glass of ice tea on a hot summers day. She wanted more, never letting up as she kissed him.
Spencer was the one to pull off first, “shit,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at him, horrified.
He laughed, smiling at her softly. “It’s okay,” he promised, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
She doesn’t stop him from pulling her back in, holding her hand on his cheek as he kissed her again. Hungrier than before, Spencer’s tongue was on a mission. He tastes like dinner, but with his own Spencer difference.
Kissing him felt like a fairytale coming true.
She forgot where they were, his hands on the back of her scrubs and her hands in his hair as their mouths clashed. She started to lay back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her.
“We can't,” he pants against her lips. Regretting it as he pulls away from her.
“Sorry, this was unprofessional I know,” she tried to play it off.
Spencer pulled her back in, flush against his chest once more. “No, I don’t regret it. It’s just, I’m not ready.”
“Oh,” she says softly. Then it clicks, “oh, oh my god, Spencer I’m so sorry I forgot. I didn’t mean to push you into anything,” she worries, running her hands over his arms softly.
He shakes his head, “you didn’t. I want to, believe me, I just don’t think I can handle the after part…”
“I cried for 3 hours after I had sex again, after everything,” she told him in complete honesty. Not even Savannah or Derek knew that.
“You don’t have to-“
“I want to,” she assured him. “You shouldn’t have to be the only vulnerable one here, I want you to know about me.”
“You don’t have to tell me the details, I don’t want to think about someone hurting you,” he whispered, his eyes innocently studying her face for how she was feeling.
“Okay, so here’s everything else,” she was still holding his face in her hands. Rubbing her thumb over his cheeks. “I had 2 moms and a little sister, and I was raised in Boston. I met Savannah in 2004, I worked with her until a few years ago. She’s my best friend, Derek is like my big brother.”
She gave him the basics, “I don’t have a dad, my mom used the same donor for me and my sister, so I’ve never really felt safe around men because I never knew many.”
“Understandable,” he smiled softly. “what’s your mom like?”
“She died when I was 26,” she pressed her lips together awkwardly. “I haven’t talked to her wife since then, my other mom, she remarried not long after. I think she was cheating on my mom when she was going through chemo.”
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“I can relate to a lot of the stories I know about you already. My mom was my world, I don’t know my dad. I’ve been hurt by people, I’ve lost a lot of myself while trying to help others,” she brushed her nose against his softly. Letting him know she wasn’t pulling back any time soon. “Who you are is not what you did, or what you’ve been through.”
He kisses her again softly. Breathing in through his nose lightly, his hand on her back pulling her in closer and closer. He didn’t want to let her go, and she was more than happy staying in his embrace forever.
He pulled back softly, “I lied to you.” He whispered against her lips.
“When?” She asked, scared to know the answer.
“I do remember you from Derek’s wedding, he told me about you a long time ago. I told him I was ready for dating again when you told him about Mark,” he couldn’t look at her.
“That’s not a huge lie,” she smiled softly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking at you all night, with that little blond boy. You two were so sweet, Mark got really mad at me for staring at you actually.”
“Derek told me when he hurt you, he came to my apartment right after so he wouldn’t go and kill him,” Spencer’s voice was so low she had to stare at his lips to understand him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she shook her head softly, kissing the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to go back to my cell,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.
Breaking her heart in the process.
She kissed his cheeks and his lips a few times, peppering kisses to his soft face to make up for it. “We can’t do this again until you’re free,” she whispered.
“I understand.”
“So you better think long and hard about this woman you remember so I can track her down and shove her in that cell instead,” Y/N’s stern voice made him smile.
“Thank you,” he replied again, hugging her the way he promised he would thank her from now on.
—
For being 9 pm on a spring night, it was rather warm in the Vermont parking lot. She left the prison a while ago, not able to leave Spencer’s gravitational pull yet as she sat there, staring at the prison thinking about him alone in his cell instead of pressed against her chest for the rest of the night.
Thinking about the feeling of Spencer’s hands on her body and his tender lips. Her hand over her mouth as she remembered how his bottom lip ghosted over her own, the anticipation was enough to light her on fire.
She took out her phone and called Derek, knowing he would put her on speaker if they were already in bed for the night. Really needing her best friends right now.
“Hey kick-ass, how are you doing today?” Derek’s voice was overly cheery, “Hey!” Savannah added in the background.
“I’m in love with him.”
Chapter 6
She barely slept anymore. Waking up at 6 am every morning without her alarm clock, her heart physically aching to return to Spencer's side after a night without him. She felt like a love-sick school girl, wanting to be with him all day even if they had nothing to say. Just looking at him was enough to make her happy.
A few weeks passed. Weeks filled with smiles and laughter, singing and reading, inside jokes and shared jello cups. She was so madly in love with him, hugging him every morning when he arrived and every night before he left. Keeping her word, kissing him on the cheek every so often instead.
She started a routine of picking up a coffee and a donut for Spencer every single Thursday, worried that he probably thought about his case all night, yet again. Which only kept her up worrying all night about him, wondering if he was doing okay all alone.
Only getting sleep when she remembered that he had a photo of her, his mom, Derek and hank with him. He’d be okay.
She walked into the infirmary to find Jerry and Mike waiting for her with a guard. Mike bleeding all down his face while Jerry held his clearly broken hand.
“You two are going to be the death of me,” she sighed. Putting all her things in her office before coming back to care for them.
She excused the guard, telling him she had it from here. They wouldn’t put up any more fights with her, they looked up to her like a momma bear, and they were her terrible cubs.
“It is 7:33 am, who the fuck did you have to fight this early?” She whisper yelled at them. Not wanting to wake Leo in the care ward, “who is worth this?”
“You don’t want to know,” Mike said under his breath.
“Well clearly he’s not here, is he dead or in violent crimes? If you two fucked up our plan of me helping you during parole next year, I’m going to be pissed,” she tried her best to entice the answers out of them.
“It was Shaw,” Jerry said softly. “He was planning to hurt the new guy, he’s all fake buddy-buddy with him.”
“Excuse me?” She panicked.
“He’s been talking to Milos at night in the locker room, Wilkins lets him out of his cell and into gen-pop,” Mike carried on the story as she tried to clean the blood off his eyebrow.
“What are they going to do to Spence?”
“Spence?” Jerry teased her, poking her side. “I didn’t know he had a nickname already. Why haven’t we met him yet?”
“I’ve kept him locked away to be safe, I’m going to find a way to keep him here at night,” She said softly. “He’s best friends with my brother, I can’t let him get hurt.”
“So you knew him in freedom land?”
She nodded, “a little.”
“All you need is a bandaid,” she changed the subject as she reached into her kit. “And Jerry I’m going to have to set your fingers back in place, if you scream in my face, I will kick you in the nuts.”
They laughed at her fake tuff guy act, never actually being able to hurt them. They were her buddies, giving her a big hug after she finished with them. Getting them both a pudding and telling them to stay put for the day if they wanted to.
Spencer found her in the lab when he arrived, she knew it was him when the door opened, no one else had a passkey to get in. She was writing down some numbers on a chart when he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
She dropped her pen and turned around in his grasp, holding his face in her hands immediately as she pulled him into a quick kiss.
“I thought you said I couldn’t do that again till I’m free?” He asked softly. Kissing her a second time as he finished.
She smiled against his lips, “you’re free when we’re alone.”
He kissed her harder. His hands around her waist as he picked her up slightly. Twirling her around as they kissed, she laughed against his skin. Unable to stop herself from smiling as she held onto him.
She kissed him one last time as he put her down on the floor, “I have a coffee and donut for you in my office.”
“You’re too good to me, Sugar Pie.”
“Anything for you, Honey Bunch,” she bit her lip as she smiled at him again. So absolutely overwhelmed with love for him.
“I actually have a serious question to ask you,” his tone changed, making her concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m still trying to figure out more about that night, and I think I want to try exposure therapy,” he explained. “I was wondering if you’d help me get high, so I can remember what happened in the same mindset.”
“Okay,” she nodded softly. “I can book you in for the night here, say you’re under observation, and I’ll stay here with you.”
“Are you sure?”
She kissed him softly again, looking up at him with a smile after. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll help you. But we need some ground rules.”
“Of course,” he agreed. Letting go of her as she stepped back, leaning against the counter now.
“No kissing, nothing like that, we’ll do it in my office so you can be alone and then later you’ll sleep in the observation room. Leo is in there, he’s harmless and sleeps all night on his morphine anyway,” she explained. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, I don’t want you to regret it. It’s going to be hard to sober up again once you get a taste of euphoria in here.”
He nodded along as she set the rules, “those are good. Thank you.”
“They drugged you with heroin, and while I know where to get some, I’m not letting you do that,” she laughed. “I have Dilaudid in pills and liquid morphine.” Letting him pick his poison.
“The pills will be fine,” he said softly.
“Alright,” she smiled. “And if you want, when you get out I can take you to a meeting? You’ll need to talk to someone other than me, someone who gets it.”
“You’ll stay with me after all this?”
“As long as you let me,” she felt her heart grow 3 sizes at the way his puppy dog eyes stared back at her. “Go have your breakfast and I will come to see you soon, okay honey?”
His smile was glorious, she could feel the love radiating off him as he looked at her. It felt wonderful, knowing at that moment her feelings weren’t one-sided. That he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was going to be good to her.
—
She had mike and Jerry help her move the couch from the break room and into her office, allowing them to meet Spencer, finally. It was awkward at first, two big muscle men telling him how much they also loved their Sugar.
“Should we tell him?” Mike nudged Jerry.
“What?” Spencer asked softly, sitting at his desk on the other side of the room, really not enjoying their alpha energy.
“Shaw, Milos and Wilkins are all secretly buddies, they were planning to hurt you and so Mike and Jerry beat Shaw up in the yard,” she scrunched her face as she explained it, not ready for his reaction.
“How?”
“After they cut that kid's throat, they wanted to get you to run heroin for them. But you ended up in here, we heard them in gen-pop last night saying they wanted to get you,” Jerry explained as he played with the bandages on his hand. “He won't be out of the violent offender's infirmary for a while.”
“Thank you,” he replied to them with a pressed-lipped smile. “I need to call my team about the case.”
That was their queue to leave, Y/N patting them on the back for the help, telling them they could stay with Leo or go back to the yard, she didn’t care. They just couldn’t be in her office for this.
Spencer looked a little pissed off. “I didn’t ask them to do that,” she said, defensively.
“I’m not mad at you,” he shakes his head softly as steps into her space. “You’re the only person I can trust in here.”
She placed her hand on his chest softly, “call Penelope. Take your time on the phone with the team.” She handed him her cell phone, “FaceTime them if you want. See their faces, it’ll be okay.”
He hugged her, a silent thank you. She ran her hands over his back as she pressed her face into his neck. Holding back every instinct to tell him she loved him as she pulled away.
“I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiled. Taking her phone, “how do I?”
She couldn’t help laughing, “here,” she dialled Penelope’s cellphone number and hit the FaceTime button.
Seeing her beautiful, bright and bubbly face smile as she answered. “Hey! Oh my god, hold on,” they watched as she got up and ran down a hallway.
Spencer was instant giggles and smiles, a side of him she’s never seen before. True, pure love. This was his family, these were his people. She could see herself fitting into his little world one day.
“Guys! It’s Spencer!” She yelled as she ran into another room.
“What’s wrong?” “Is he okay?”
Suddenly she turned the phone sideways to show all his co-workers. “Hi!” He waved to them.
“Spence!” Emily and JJ cheered, “oh you look so good.”
“I feel good, how are you all?” He asked softly, taking her phone and sitting down at his desk.
She watched him softly from the door, slipping out when she saw his attention was fully on his past life. She walked down the hall towards the lab, hearing his laughter through the walls.
—
She placed 2 pills in a plastic cup, taking an apple juice and jello from the fridge for Spencer. She placed it on his desk 20 minutes before his shift ended, giving him a little space to decide when he wanted to. He told her that he get’s cold when he comes down from a high, so she leaves a fluffy blanket and a pillow on the couch before slipping back out of the room.
She returned to the care unit, looking over Leo as he got ready for the night. Administering his meds and wishing him a good night. She closed his curtain, so when Spencer eventually went to bed he wouldn’t be disturbed.
When she finally settled into her office for the night, Spencer was in the dark. Sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey,” he said softly.
“How are you?” She asked softly. Closing the door behind herself. Locking it and making sure all the blinds were closed.
“It’s going to hit soon,” he said softly. Suddenly embarrassed and closed off, hiding from her as he laid down.
She didn’t want to bother him, sitting at her desk with her reports. The light from the computer is just enough to see what she was looking at. She glanced at him every few minutes to make sure he was okay.
He enjoys it at first, a blissed-out look on his face as his head is tossed back against the couch. She knows the exact euphoria he’s feeling, she understood perfectly why someone would want to escape like that.
Then his face changes as he starts to hate it, he mumbles to himself with his eyes squeezed shut, she could see him gripping the sheets as he tries to force himself to remember.
She’s uncomfortable watching it, feeling like an intruder. She tried to only focus on her work, flipping through emails and Twitter, scrolling through Facebook for the first time in months to preoccupy her mind.
He was like that for at least an hour.
She could hear his teeth chattering as he came down, just like he said would happen. “You okay, honey?”
“Y-yeah,” he tried to speak through the shaking. “C-can we cuddle?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, turning on her desk lamp before joining him on the couch.
She pulled him up into a sitting position, sitting where his head once was and letting him settle into her lap. She ran her hands through his hair, combing through the locks as she shushed him. Running her hand up and down his back in a tender motion, he snuggled into her leg.
“I’m not that high anymore,” he says softly.
“I know, it’s okay if you are. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
“I love you,” he whispers.
It makes her stop. Her whole body stills at the words, he wanted to clarify so she’d know it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut, biting her lip as she tries not to burst into tears.
He felt it too.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, “sit up.” She instructs him softly.
She laid down against the couch then, waiting for him to snuggle into her side. Wrapping the blanket around them both as they found the most comfortable position.
“Sorry,” he whispered against the crook of her neck.
“It’s okay, it just feels wrong for me to say it back right now. I feel the same, believe me, Spencer.” She wanted to assure him to the best of her ability. “But you’re still an inmate in my care, I can’t. Not yet.”
“You don’t have to,” he pulled back to look her in the eyes, his own still droopy from how tired the drugs made him. “I’m going to love you regardless.”
She broke her own rules. Kissing him softly, holding him close to her, under the blanket where both their body heat was trapped. She had never felt safer in her entire life.
Spencer only crawling into that bed in the care ward when he woke up to her alarm the following morning.
Chapter 7
There’s someone banging on her office door just a little after 8 am. She was in the middle of putting a new pair of scrubs on over her long-sleeve undershirt, the banging on her door doesn’t stop until she opens the door.
“What?” She yells at them.
It’s Officer Wilkins. “Where is inmate Reid? We have a visitor for him.”
“No one is scheduled to see him today?”
“There is now. Where is he?” The man towered over her. Trying his best to intimidate her.
“Care ward. I’ll get him. You can go wait in the waiting room,” she pushes past him. Watching him stumble as he hits the wall.
“He’s not worth dying over,” he whispers under his breath.
She doesn’t leave Reid’s side as Wilkins attempts to escort him to an interrogation room. Y/N stands in the observation room as Spencer waits, cuffed to the table. Looking through the mirror at each other, only he couldn’t see her. He just knew she would be there.
“Mom?” Spencer’s shocked voice breaks her out of her thoughts as she sees Diana walking into the room.
A dark-haired woman she’s never met before escorting her in. Y/N whips her phone out to take a quick photo before running back to her office as quickly as she can.
Y/N: I need you to check on Cassie, Diana’s nurse. Someone I don’t know just brought Diana to the prison.
She attached the photo she took, setting her phone down to looking through the visitor's logs on her computer. Wanting to know the name of the woman accompanying Diana.
“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice says from her doorway.
She looks up at him from her desk. Wilkins is stepping into her space with a look of guilt, taking his baton off his belt.
“You don’t have to do this,” she backed up against the wall, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible.
“I have to,” his tone changed. Like a personality switch, his eyes darkened as he charged at her.
She ran around the desk, watching him follow. Punching her in the face, causing her to fall back against the couch, she didn’t want him to get on top of her. Dropping to the carpeted floor as he dove onto the couch.
She crawled on the floor towards the door as he tried to get up. Standing as fast as she could, roundhouse kicking him in the face with a grunt. Her foot hit his jaw at just the right angle, rendering him unconscious.
She reached for his cuffs as soon as he hit the floor, “Leo!! Help!” She screamed down the hall.
She heard bare feet running down the hall, followed by the sound of rubber on linoleum. “Sugar??” Mike and Jerry yelled as they followed.
“Watch him,” she insisted once the cuffs were on him. “Hurt him if you have to.”
She took the second pair of cuffs off Wilkins's belt before running out of the room, her lip busted and bleeding down her neck.
She ran down the hall towards Spencer, busting into the room and knocking the nurse to the ground. Struggling to get her onto her stomach, “stop struggling, who the fuck are you?”
“Get off me!” She screamed in return.
Y/N cuffed her and pulled her to her feet, pushing her against the stone wall.
“What is going on?” Spencer stood up, cuffed to the table so he couldn’t help.
“Wilkins just attacked me, Diana wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said over her shoulder in Spencer’s direction. “So I’ll ask again,” she whispered in the woman's ear as she pushed her against the wall harder. “Who, the fuck! Are you?”
“He knows me,” she spat out.
Y/N ripped her off the wall, making her look at Spencer who was shocked, speechless as he tried to remember her face. “Who is she?”
“She told me Cassie was fired, she’s been with me all morning?” Diana tried to explain, slightly freaking out.
“I sent her photo to Penelope, I need a guard,” Y/N said, hauling the unknown women into the hall with her.
—
The prison was put on lockdown as they tried to figure out this security breach. Wilkins and the nurse being held in prison custody as they waited for the BAU team to fly in.
Figuring out that her name was Lindsay Vaughn, Spencer remembered as much as he could about her. How he tried to save her dad, losing him to his carnal need to kill. Lindsay following closely in her daddy's footsteps.
Diana sat at Spencer’s desk, Mike and Jerry stand watch at the door. Y/N was sitting on top of her desk in front of Spencer, it was his turn to run alcohol over her cuts. Holding her face in his hands as he cared for her.
“I'm sorry,” he mouths the words at her. Not wanting his mother to overhear them.
She nods in response, unable to smile as the cut on her lips stings. All things considered, she could have been in a lot worse condition if it wasn’t for Derek and her training.
She wants to kiss him, she can tell he’s looking over her shoulder at his mom. Waiting to make sure she’s not looking before he leans in a little closer.
Pressing their lips together as silently as possible, his eyes still on her’s as they did so. It’s the most tender kiss she’s ever had, “I’m okay Spence,” she said softly as he pulled back.
“I’m still sorry you were dragged into this,” holding her against his chest softly.
From where she was sitting on top of her desk, she placed her head on his chest, holding him as close as she could, his cheek resting on her head. She wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to let him go, ever.
Needing the comfort he brought her, now more than ever.
When Derek and she started training again it was mostly to help her feel safe. To know what to do if it happened again. She didn’t ever expect it to, thinking it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. That she’d learn from it and then she wouldn’t be in this situation again, being punched in the face by a man.
She started to cry, the throbbing pain in both her face and her foot taking over as the adrenaline dissipated, she was too overwhelmed to do anything more. He let her cry against him, rubbing his hand on her back as he kissed her forehead.
She couldn’t wait for him to get out of here, and she was going to leave with him.
—
Derek is the first to burst through the door. Wrapping Spencer up in the biggest hug she’s ever seen him give. Rocking Spencer back and forth in his grasp as he kissed Spencer's cheek a few times.
He pulled back, holding Spencer's face in his hands. Smiling so he didn’t cry, “they’re dropping the charges.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope,” Derek shakes his head adding, “You’re free.” Expecting Spencer to hug him again.
Instead, Spencer turns to Y/N and pulls her into a kiss. She’s startled at first, eyes wide open as Spencer’s hands find her waist and pulls her right up against him.
She can't help but settle against him. Holding his face in her hands as she kisses him back. He picks her up slightly, spinning her around with his face buried in her neck as she yelps.
Everyone in the room watching him celebrate with her in shocked silence.
He placed her back on the ground, kissing her one last time. “You did it, Spence,” she smiles at him.
“We did it.”
She hears someone clearing their throat. Both of them turning to see the Warden as well as the entire BAU team standing in her doorway. But they don’t pull apart, Spencer’s hand stays on her side as they wait to get yelled at.
“I quit,” Y/N said before he could say anything to her, “and I might sue.”
“I’m suing for sure,” Spencer added.
“We’re terribly sorry for the condition of your stay Doctor Reid. And Doctor Y/L/N, I’ll never be able to make it up to you. I’m incredibly sorry for what Wilkins did,” the warden tried to cover his ass from a bureau lawsuit.
“Too late for that,” Emily added. Stepping into the room more. “Doctor Reid will be leaving with us, now.”
“Understood,” the Warden hurried out of the room before any more damage could be done.
Everyone took a turn hugging Spencer then. A handful of them even hugging Y/N as well.
Emily wrapped Y/N up in a hug, rubbing her back the way she would all those years before. “Thank you, you have no idea what he means to us.”
“I think I do,” she laughed against her. “If that’s not weird?”
“Not at all,” she pulled back, looking at Y/N with her big beautiful eyes, her bangs pushed out of the way so she could take a good look again. “You two are good together.”
She smiled, “thanks Em.”
“We need to fill him in on everything, will you stay with Diana?” Emily asked.
“Of course, I’m just going to be packing up some things anyway,” she said as she turned to Spencer. “Have fun with your friends, honey.”
“Thanks, sugar,” he kissed her on the cheek before walking out. Everyone whistling and hollering at the boldness Dr. Reid had developed in prison.
They all filed out after him, she watched the door with a soft smile as they wandered down the hall, Spencer taking them to the break room so they could chat.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Diana’s small voice came from Spencer’s desk.
“Oh, Diana,” she smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”
Diana nodded as she walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug, much like how Spencer would. She can imagine Spencer’s hugs once feeling like this, imagining him small and shy, holding her slightly. Unlike his more beefy, relaxed form since being in prison.
“He means the world to me too,” she says softly as Diana pulls away.
“You saved him, if he didn’t have you he might not still be my soft and sweet little Spencer,” Diana patted her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for making him,” she laughed slightly. “He’s a wonderful man, I have a feeling you played a big role in that.”
Her smile was just like his. The smile of a mother, someone who was going to love him forever, maybe she’d love her too. Y/N felt a little emotional, this could be her family one day.
Chapter 8
There was a lot of information to process as she sat at the BAU round table.
Learning the entire plot of some women’s revenge against Spencer, just how much Wilkins and Lindsay were involved, the crazy scheme they planned and how terribly it would have ended if she wasn’t there.
Spencer, on the other hand, was visiting this Cat person in prison. The one who orchestrated it all, the one who was obsessed with Spencer, the love of her life, to the point she might be having his baby. He had some things to settle with her.
He was on edge before he left, going with Derek and JJ while Y/N stayed back with Diana. David Rossi had even offered to let them all stay at his guest house later that night, seeing as Spencer’s apartment was a crime scene.
Lindsay murdered Cassie, leaving her dead body on Spencer’s apartment floor. Ruining the place he was so desperate to return to.
She was a little out of it. Trying to think of everything that happened and everything she would have to do in the next few days. Compiling a list in her mind as the anxiety bubbled in her gut.
She needed a new job and a new place to live. First, she’d have to go back to Vermont to pack, and she’d have to find a way to support her boys on Parole. And Mike and Jerry.
She put her hands over her face and rested against the table. Overwhelmed with everything, her face still hurting, the lights were too much, she was tired.
Then she was crying softly.
“Hey,” Emily rubbed her back softly. “Shhh, it’s okay, what’s wrong Y/N?”
She sat up and wiped her eyes with a small laugh, embarrassed that her kinda ex-girlfriend was comforting her. “I’m stressed?” She answered, not even really sure herself.
Emily smiled while she nodded, looking so different now than she did back when they first met. Older, but in a beautiful way, gracefully becoming who she was always meant to be. “I get it, believe me.”
She remembered Derek saying she ‘died’ once. How they buried her casket and how pissed they were when they found out she was actually alive. Y/N only knew Emily re-born, as they called her.
She was always caring, always wanted to comfort and make people happy. It was the way she coped with hurting them all, but it carried on past the team. It carried on to strangers, victims, sometimes even unsub’s.
And most definitely Y/N.
There was a part of Y/N that wonders what loving Emily would have been like; if it would have felt half as good as loving Spencer. Or would it be better? She’d never really know, but she could imagine it would have been nice.
“How can we help?” Emily asked, still as wonderful as ever.
“I need a new job,” she laughed. “Can Penelope use her mad skills to find a reputable business in need of a doctor around here?”
“Are you moving back to Virginia?” She smiled at the thought.
“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a smile growing on her face. “I’m kind of attached to Spencer now.”
“Good, maybe Derek can help you find a place, he has like, what 7? Right now that he’s fixing up?” Emily threw out ideas. “You’ll get the ball rolling soon, it’ll all be fine.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on him, I know you would never but, I was worried he had lost all hope and you never did. Thank you.”
Emily hugged her again, not saying anything. Y/N knew there was nothing to thank her for, this was a family. They would kill for each other if they needed to.
“Let’s go see Penelope,” Emily replied as she pulled away. Standing and extending a hand for Y/N.
The BAU offices were so interesting, many people running around to get jobs done before the end of the day as the main team chilled. It was like any other office she was in; controlled chaos and hierarchy.
Diana was sitting with Penelope in her office, flipping through a scrapbook while eating a jello cup. It made her smile to see it ran in the family.
“Hey,” Penelope cheered as she noticed them.
“I was just going to ask for some help with something, I see you’re busy,” Y/N awkwardly commented on the situation.
“Oh, we’re not,” Diana said. “I was showing her photos of Spencer. Would you like to see them?”
“I’d love to, um while I’m here, Penelope would you be willing to help me search for a good job?” She asked a lot mousier than Spencer would have if he was asking her for something.
“Of course, what are we looking for?” She wheeled to her main computer, cracking her knuckles as she got ready to look.
“Um, anyone hiring a GP close to here, I’m willing to go all the way to DC for work,” she explained. “I just want a place where I won't get punched again,” she tried to laugh at the trauma.
“The sanatarium is hiring, they’ve got good ratings and not a lot of patient complaints, they’re looking for a physician to care for the elderly members of the program,” Penelope explained as she clicked through screen after screen of info.
“That would be nice,” she smiled towards Diana. “Did you like the one you were at?”
“Oh yes,” Diana mused. “I had many friends there, I miss them and the social aspect. For a bunch of loons, I really loved the company.” She laughed at herself.
“I send the link to you,” Penelope smiled. “Now let me see his little baby bum again that one is my favourite, he’s so funny,” she leaned back in close to Diana.
All the pictures were priceless. Seeing Spencer grow up, page after page, every award and accomplishment displayed proudly. It made her miss her family, the love that a mother could bring to her life.
She got a little emotional, trying to nonchalantly wipe the tear off her cheek as she watched Diana flip a page.
“Are you okay?” She asked softly.
Y/N laughed, “yeah I just miss my mom.” She scrunched her nose so that the tears stayed in, waving her hand in front of her face as she tried to blink the tears back.
“Where is she?” An innocent question opening the floodgates.
“She had cancer,” Y/N cried softly. Not noticing as Emily and Penelope left the room. Giving them a space to bond.
“She died when I was 26,” she explained.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Diana placed her hand on Y/N’s back as she rubbed her softly. “Do you have any other family?”
“My moms are gay, well. After my mom died I stopped talking to her wife, yes she raised me but she hurt my mom too much for me to love her like a parent,” Y/N unloaded her trauma onto Diana, it must be genetic to find comfort in the Reids.
“Spencer never had a father either,” Diana related to her. “After William left it was just us, and Spencer stepped up to being the man of the house. He’s always been thrown into situations where he has no control but he needs to make the decisions. You’re probably the best person he could be with, he doesn’t have to take care of you.”
“Cause I baby him,” she laughed as she wiped stray tears off her cheeks. “He’s pretty wonderful, you did a fantastic job. Both of you did, look at the love you have. This is a perfect family.”
She gestured to the book of photos, seeing the love beaming off Diana’s face as she held a 12-year-old Spencer in her arms. Braces, on his face, thick glasses, long hair. He was adorable.
“You’re welcome to join,” Diana offered softly. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
“Why didn’t you?” She asked softly.
“Why have more when you can stop at perfection,” she smiled, the same wonderful smile Spencer had.
“That he is,” she agreed. “Thank you for him.”
“Thank you, I mean it when I say you saved him,” Diana’s serious look making Y/N cry again.
“I know,” she cried. “And I’d do it again.”
In a heartbeat.
—
Rossi had 3 rooms ready for use in his guest house. Only 2 were ever used during their stay. They spent a few nights recovering together, helping Diana into a new routine for a few days while trying to just spend as much time as possible together out in the real world.
Rossi’s property was huge, never-ending even. He had lake access, ponds with ducks, fields and fields of long grass topped with flowers. It was like a dream getting to explore it together.
Happiness hit her like a freight train, smacking her in the chest and knocking the wind out of her.
She blinked and suddenly she had been waking up in Spencer’s arms for a week straight. Going on adventures together, waiting for him with a coffee outside his NA meetings, holding him all night long.
He had a hard time adjusting to a real bed again, it was too soft. He spent most of his time with his head on Y/N's chest, letting her rub his back slowly as she kissed his head, helping him drift off to sleep every single night. Causing her to fall deeper and deeper in love with him.
Every day beside him was a blessing, no longer was he a dog trapped in a cage. He was free, running with her through the fields like wild horses.
She woke up with him still snuggled into her, arm around her waist, legs tangled together, his face right in the crook of her neck. His hot breath on her skin being the thing that finally woke her up.
Absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, eyes still closed as she woke up. Snuggling her cheek against the top of his head, causing him to pull her in tighter. Both of them slowly coming alive again.
“I love you,” her voice coarse from sleeping with her mouth open, dry as she licked her lips. It was the only thought that came to her mind. Not even realizing it was the first time she’s said it to him.
Spencer kissed her neck softly, “I love you.”
She couldn’t believe the happiness she was feeling, almost positive that even in her saddest moments she still loved him just this much. He was everything, even under all the scares and trauma, he was the most wonderful person in her whole world. And she was beyond blessed to be holding him in her arms.
The sun was barely up yet, having fallen asleep around 10 pm last night, they were up way earlier than they expected. It was so nice, the deep orange light of the morning sun creeping through the window behind the bed.
“Do you want to go watch the sun come up?” She asked softly.
“Yeah,” he nodded softly. Sitting up with her to get ready.
They put on track pants and sweaters and shoes, grabbing a few blankets and heading outside. A few minutes of walking behind Rossi’s house led them towards a beautiful little pond, they laid out 2 blankets over the dew-soaked grass before cuddling on top of it.
The birds were performing for them, the clouds were cleaning into the most beautiful morning blue sky she had ever seen. She couldn’t help herself from holding him tighter against the blanket.
The sun shined on the water, casting beautiful pinks and oranges across the surface as it stretched into the sky. A few ducks followed their mommas in the May morning breeze, quacking in agreement as they swam across the pond. Playing a game of following the leader.
It was a dream, she was sure of it. It was all too perfect to be real.
Including Spencer, he laid there softly underneath her, holding her against his chest as she appreciated the world around them. His attention only on her, even after being locked up for 3 months. He would always choose her.
“I’m so happy,” she said softly. “You make me so happy.”
He kissed her on the forehead, pushing her back against the blanket so he could kiss her whole face as she laid there. Smiling as she held his sides, letting him smother her in affection.
When he finally stops kissing her, he brushes her hair behind her ear. Cupping her face with one hand as he looks at her. The sun casting a vibrant glow on the both of them as they appreciated each other for a moment.
“I don’t know how I made it so long without you,” he finally speaks. “But I never want to do it again.”
“Move in with me?” She replied without a second thought. “I need to find a place here anyway, and I doubt you want to go back to your apartment.”
“I already asked Derek for the place he was fixing on Wilmont, it’s close to the sanatarium, mom wants to be social again,” he filled her in on his plans. “We just have to sign the lease.”
“We?” She teased him.
“I love you,” he reminded her.
“Good,” she smiled as she pulled him into another kiss. “Because I love you, too.”
Spending time with Spencer was intimacy in its purest form. It was a relationship built on trust, respect, and mutual love. It was the first time in her life she felt truly in love, not mesmerized by the idea of it.
She trusted him when he said that he loved her. She believed him when held her when he talked to her about his day or the most random things his mind could conjure. When he’d just hold her, enjoying her presence without wanting anything more than just her.
Chapter 9
They arrived in Vermont early on a Saturday morning, heading to her apartment to pack everything up. It was just the two of them this time, flying in together, half asleep at the break of dawn.
Only bringing 1 bag with her essentials for the next 2 days, hoping to pack her whole life into a truck and pray it arrived in Virginia okay.
And she got to show Spencer her space. A personal side of her that he had no idea about. He knew her mind, her feelings, her trauma, but he didn’t know what her personality was really like outside of loving him.
He was surprised by the amount of stuff she had. Wandering around her apartment quietly as she started taping boxes into shape.
Rented white walls enclosed the space when she moved in, not being able to paint them or anything felt wrong to her. So she covered them in photos, artwork and posters. Bringing the space to life with a touch of colour.
Mostly neons, having an affinity for green and purple accent pieces. Not a single shade of blue to be found, getting enough of that at work over the years.
She had plants everywhere, an old record player and a million different albums spread across the living room. Her bedroom was a mess, the closet was even worse. The kitchen would be easy to pack, it was the stuff on the walls she was worried about.
“I’m probably not getting my deposit back,” she laughed as she started taking the paintings down.
“I didn’t know you went to Harvard?” He points at her medical degree on the wall as she takes it down.
“Yeah, let me guess you’re a Yale guy?” She teased him.
He scoffed, nudging her arm lightly. “CalTech and MIT actually, Yale was my safety school.”
“Mine too,” she smiled.
Spencer stood beside her and watched for a minute, “what should I do?”
“Pick an area and pack the way you would if this was your place, I trust you won't break anything.”
“Okay,” he nodded, beginning stacking all her books on the kitchen table.
They worked well together, they knew that already. She put on music, they moved around each other freely. Occasionally singing the words and dancing around to the good ones. It was a lovely day to just open the windows and clean.
Hours passed, pizzas had been ordered and destroyed, boxes filled every corner of the space as her personality was completely ripped from the room. Soon it was just them, a couch and the record player.
She got up and walked into the bedroom to change, feeling sticky and gross from the day. Not expecting Spencer to follow and sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Who knew packing boxes for 7 hours would make you so sweaty,” she jokes as she peels the shirt off her back. Standing in front of him in just her sports bra.
He turns away from her, making her laugh slightly. “Spencer, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” He asks as he turns back to look at her.
She nods softly, “do you want to shower with me?”
He’s speechless for a moment, staring at her with an open mouth, “yeah, yes sure.”
She can't help herself from laughing, taking his hand and pulling him into her tiny bathroom. She makes sure they both have a few towels, seeing him awkwardly stand by the door like he’s not allowed to move.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminded him. “Go as slow as you want.”
“I want to join you, but just to clean,” he made his decision.
“Alright, I have 3 different shampoos you can choose from,” she smiled, opening her cupboard and letting him pick. He smiled, appreciating how easily she made it a strictly business situation.
She took off her pants, watching him get undressed out of the corner of her eye. They had been much more intimate with each other already, getting naked in front of him shouldn’t have been as nerve-racking as it was.
She turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature with her foot. She took a deep breath and just took the sports bra off, freeing her boobs after a long day felt amazing, replacing the fear of Spencer seeing her for the first time. She dropped her underwear to the floor and stepped into the shower, waiting for him to do the same.
Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her, naked. She didn’t know how to act, just laughing and smiling at him. He did the same, it felt kinda crazy that they were standing in a shower, butt naked as the water pooled at their feet.
“You have to pull the thingy up,” she pointed at the bottom of the shower behind him. “It might be cold when it hits you, here pull it up and hide in the corner, like I do.”
He followed her instructions, pulling the small silver plug up to redirect the water from the tub faucet to the shower head. Cowering into the corner with her, their chests pressed together as the cold water hit his back, making him gasp as she laughed.
She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against the shower wall as she held him against her, “hi,” she whispered through her smile.
He kissed her quickly before backing up under the stream. She watched the water cover his hair, making it darker as it spread through the long locks. She watched it drip down his body softly, her eyes travelling down as it did.
He had a scar on his neck and all the bruising on his chest was long gone. His skin was so pretty, he only had a small amount of chest hair, but it was the collection of freckles all over capturing her gaze the most. She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, seeing his eyes open as he ran his hands through his hair.
“Sorry,” she pulled her hand back.
“It’s okay,” he laughed slightly. “Here,” he reached behind her for the bar of soap, “if you want to touch me while I wash my hair?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. Reaching for the loofa on the tap behind him, standing directly in his space as she did so.
They switched sides, slowly turning so he would be out of the spray of the shower head. He put shampoo in his hands and rubbed it through his hair while she watched quietly for a moment.
She rubbed the bar of soap against the fabric of the loofa, watching it foam up and fill the small space with a soft cucumber scent. Running it over his chest softly as he massaged his scalp. She was so soft with him, mesmerized by how lucky she was.
He was beautiful and soft. He wasn’t big and buff like Derek, he was just a normal man with a love for chocolate donuts and jello. She ran the loofa over his tummy as she smiled, loving everything about him.
Loving every part actually while trying to avoid both eye and physical contact with specific sections of him. Not knowing if he was okay, wanting to respect his space, and appreciating that he was doing the same with her.
He laughed when she ran it along his side, ticking his armpit as he tried to wash his hair, soap dripping down onto his eyebrow. She reached up and wiped it off his face so it wouldn’t go in his eye.
“Thanks,” he smiled.
“Switch?” She said as she guided him back under the water, his eyes still closed from the fear of getting soap in them. Scrunching his face up in the cutest way.
The water cascaded over his body, washing the soap down him as she watched, her hair not even close to being wet enough to wash yet. She just wanted to watch the show, to look at all of him and appreciate the moment.
He opened his eyes once all the soap was gone, his hair longer than ever as it laid flat behind his ears, he looked so funny without a big curly mop of hair on his head, remembering he said it used to be like this at one point.
“Your turn?” He offered, taking the loofa from her and reapplying the soap to it. “Can I?”
“Of course,” she answered as he slowly ran the material over her.
He was so gentle, she watched his face as he washed over her. Biting his bottom lip in concentration as he covered her chest, arms and stomach, “um,” he tried to speak, she knew what he wanted.
She took the loofa from him and replaced it with a bar of soap, “rub it in your hands for a sec, and then use them it’s easier.”
He did just that, lathering up his hands before he placed them directly on her breasts. She let out a sigh, bordering on a moan, as he held them in his hands, massaging the soap in carefully. Thumbs rubbing over her nipples as he made sure to not miss a spot.
She was in heaven, tossing her head back against the shower wall as he ran his hands over her more. Exploring her as she leaned against the wall.
Down her stomach, past her belly button, washing her hips before dropping to his knees. Using the bar of soap once more to wash over her legs as she stared at him, amazed by the bravery he was showing.
The water getting in his eyes down there, he stood and pushed his hair back out of his face as the water dropped to the floor, “turn around?” He asked softly.
“Yeah,” she replied, turning to face the wall.
He ran his soapy hands all over her back, over her shoulders and arms. Paying special attention to her butt, which made her laugh, she was only a little ticklish there.
She was covered head to toe in bubbles, Spencer looked at her with a big grin on his face as he noticed his job was done. Helping her under the water to wash all the soap off.
She lifted her arms to run the water through her hair, feeling her boobs perk up as she did so. Spencer's attention being completely switched to her chest as he watched. “Pass me the gold shampoo bottle?”
“Y-yeah,” he said, grabbing it from behind himself and handing it back to her.
She stepped into his space, pouring the soap into her hand and rubbing it in. “They say if you lather it up it’ll apply easier,” she explained her little life hack as she rubbed her hands together.
Finally running her hands back through her hair in Spencer’s personal bubble. Her boobs pressing against his chest once again. He was breathing heavier as she watched him, hoping soap didn’t make its way into her eye and ruin the moment.
When she finally stepped back to wash the soap out of her hair, Spencer followed, pressing them together once more. Holding her by the waist as she continued to get the soap out.
Once the water ran clean, she rested her hands on Spencer's shoulders. Staring at him as the water ran down her back, his eyelashes covered in water droplets as he stared into her eyes.
He was beautiful like this, just himself.
“Are we ever going to be like a real couple?” He asked softly.
“What do you mean?”
He ran his wet hands over his back as he thought about it for a moment, “I would like to be with you, more than this, but-”
“You mean sex?” She smiled softly, trying her best to not tease him. It was a serious moment, but she loved him too much to see him struggle.
“Yeah, I just don’t know how I’ll react,” he admitted.
“Honey,” she cooed, rubbing her nose against his softly. “Sex doesn’t make us a real couple, first of all. And second, we have all the time in the world, so you take it as slow as you want. We can start little by little, I don’t mind waiting.”
“How do you mean?”
She smirked at him, “have you ever masturbated in the same room as someone else?”
He swallowed sharply, shaking his head softly, “no, have you?”
“No,” she whispered. “But it’s a small step. You can sit beside me, we touch ourselves, nothing overlaps unless you want it to. Ease into it. It would be another easy way to be comfortable with your body around me.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
She reached behind herself to turn the water off, tapping the silver plug with her foot to release the pressure, and stepping out of the shower finally.
—
They dried off, getting into their pj’s before laying on the couch in her empty living room. Listening to the Hozier album that was already sitting on the player and cuddling while their hair dried. Just enjoying each other's company, he was so soft and he smelled amazing, it was so nice to have him in her space.
“Did you still want to?” Spencer cut into the moment.
It made her smile against him, lifting her head off his chest as she went to stand up. “Come on,” she took his hand, helping him to his feet.
She pulled him in close, kissing his lips softly. Only planning to kiss him once, being drawn into his mouth as his hands wrapped around her back.
She held him in return, slowly making her way into the bedroom as they stayed connected, laughing as her back smacked the door frame and then at the way he fell into her bed with her on top.
Her music softly travelled in from the living area, they kept the lights off as they stripped out of their pants and got under the covers.
“How did you want to start?” She asked, turning to face him as she laid against the pillow.
“Can we just kiss for a while?”
“Absolutely,” she smiled, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in.
She was laying slightly on top of him, holding his face in her hands as she kissed him. His tongue was soft, swirling with hers as they made out softly. He was very handsy, wanting to touch every single part of her once again like he didn’t get enough in the shower.
She spread her leg between his, sitting on his thigh as she rubbed against him. He bit her lip, squeezing her skin at the feeling. “I think I can do it,” he said softly.
“No,” she whispered, kissing his neck before getting off him. “I don’t want to hear I think. It’s a yes or it’s a no.”
“Okay,” he managed to bring reason back into his horny brain.
He took his shirt off, only in boxers beside her, tenting in them slightly. She took off her shirt as well, laying back against the pillow. He watched her breasts the whole time, licking his lips as he leaned on his side.
She ran a hand over her side, cupping her breast and tossing her head into the pillow more. “I’m starting without you,” she teased, her other hand slipping under the band of her underwear.
He laid on his back, bending his knees as he slipped his boxers off, she looked over at him with careful eyes. Genuinely curious about how beautiful he would look rock hard and begging for it.
She didn’t move her hand, just resting it under her underwear to entice him to start. She watched as he stroked himself softly, returning his attention to her smiling face.
She pushed her shirt and underwear off as well, scooting in closer to him so she was pressed against his side. Bending one knee so she could ghost her fingers over the folds as he watched her.
“I want to touch you,” he rushed the words out.
“Okay.”
He reached his left hand over, resting it on her hip before resting his hand on top of hers. She slipped it out from under his grasp, guiding his fingers to her clit as she stretched her legs further apart.
“Yeah, like that,” she encouraged him.
“W-would you?”
“Finish the sentence,” she instructed him. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
“Stroke me, I want it. Yes.”
She wrapped her fist around him, feeling his fingers swoop down to see how wet she was. “Oh,” she jerked her hips against his side, not expecting him to loop the wetness back up and rub her clit again.
He groaned as she stroked him faster, both of them staring at their own handiwork. She was fascinated with how big he was, being able to stroke up and down him so gracefully it was like she was always meant to. She licked her lips as she saw the pearl of precum drip out. Gathering it up with her thumb as she slid back down his length.
He was panting, trying to hold himself back as she kept jerking him off. Lightly touching her clit as all his attention focused on not cuming so soon.
“It’s okay honey,” she whispered in his ear.
Straddling his thigh then. His hand resting on her clit still as she ground down on him. “Is this okay?” She asked.
He nodded, “yes,” biting his lip so he didn’t explode right then and there.
He felt amazing on her, every time her hips ground down her clit rested right between his fingers perfectly to gain the perfect amount of friction back and forth.
She let herself go, bucking her hips and moaning as she stroked him with one hand. Resting the other behind her neck so he could look at her boobs perk up again, sending him so close to the edge he almost jumped out of his skin.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “C-an I?”
“Cum baby,” she gasped. Following her own instruction as she watched the cum burst from him, shooting up over her fist as she stroked him through it. Grinding against him as she whimpered, “fuck, I love you,” leaving her mouth.
Letting go of his dick as he started to whine, she dropped down against him with her face nestled into his neck.
She kissed him, over and over again. Peppering them against his skin for the best orgasm she has ever had.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his skin as he came down from the high. His chest heaving as he tried to calm down, only picking up again when she heard the sob.
“Shhh,” she whispered against his skin, letting him hold her tighter against him as he cried. “I love you, honey, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”
She felt the tears welling in her own eyes, overwhelmed with her feelings for him. “I love you so much Spencer,” she cried against his skin, the tears dripping down his neck slowly.
His hands ran over her back, they held each other while they cried.
Everything from the last week finally catching up with them both. They hadn’t taken a moment to talk about any of it, the fact he was even in prison or what happened after. They just moved on, pretending it was fine now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally.
“Me too,” he pressed his hand onto her cheek, freeing her from his neck as she sat up a little.
Both of them still gross from the sex, pressing sweaty foreheads together as they took a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she emphasized, “are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful,” he laughed at the absurdity. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”
“Really?” She laughed too.
He nodded softly. Kissing her nose as she pulled back to look at him better. “I want to touch you but,” she laughed at the mess on her hand and where she rested it on his chest. “Can we pause for one sec?” She couldn’t stop smiling.
The two of them continuing to laugh at the situation as they cleaned up in the bathroom, laughing even harder as she sat to pee like they had been married for a million years already, laughing the hardest when it came out in dribbles from all the laughing.
Going through every emotion in the book as they coped with the insanity together.
Once they were clean they crawled back into bed. Resuming almost the same position as she sat down on his lap, holding his face in her hands like she wanted to. Rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks as he pulled her in closer by her hips.
“Tell me what you’re feeling?” She whispered.
“I’m happy, you saved my life and I can’t believe I get to do this with you,” he explained softly, moving his hands on her back. He talked with his hands, not able to say anything without them moving.
“You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Spencer,” she reassured him.
“Why?” He asked softly. “not in a pity party sense, I just want to know how you feel. You haven’t really told me, I’ve been waiting for you to open up, I thought maybe you were just like that because it was your job, but I want to know you more.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bumped their noses together. “I don’t normally talk to people, even with Derek I’m really closed off. But I do trust you, and I want to, I just wanted to experience you when you’re free. I wanted to see if this overwhelming ache in my heart would dissipate as I was allowed to love you.”
She didn’t want to cry again. Blinking so the tears rolled back behind her eyes, licking her lips as her head tilted slightly. She just stared at his honey eyes, glossy and blown out. So absolutely beautiful.
“It got worse,” she laughed slightly. “I realized that now that you’re free you don’t have to see me every day, luckily you want to. But, now I think about losing you instead of keeping you safe.”
“Never,” he shook his head, face still cupped in her hands. “I’m never leaving you, you’re going to need a restraining order if you want to break up.”
She laughed, pushing the tears out, finally. Spencer kissed her cheeks, wiping the tears away with his lips. “Okay,” her voice broke as she tried not to cry anymore.
“I love you,” Spencer whispered. “You’re brave and kind, incredibly smart. You’re willing to do whatever it takes for the ones you love, you’re the only person I want to talk to every day.”
“I was going to say that about you,” she pressed their lips together finally, pushing him back against the headboard.
She laid her head on his shoulder, cuddling into him as she sat in his lap, “I have never loved anyone like this.”
“Me either,” he admitted as he pressed his cheek to her head. “Not even with Maeve, or Derek I know he told you.”
“And your mom,” she smiled. “She actually welcomed me to the family, said she always wanted a daughter. It’s nice to have a mom again.”
That broke him, he finally dropped the tuff boyfriend act he was putting up to hear her feelings, crying at his mother and the love of his life being close. She could tell he was a mamma’s boy, they had a bond Y/N wished she could have with someone. The closest she had to a Diana was Derek, as funny as that was.
She let him cry, not prying into it at all. Letting him take control of his emotions and the conversation. She ran her hands up and down his arm, soothing him softly as he held on to her.
“I was so scared,” is all Spencer says.
“I can imagine.”
“No, I mean about my mom,” he corrects her softly. “I thought the second she got her diagnosis that I ruined everything for her. She was going to forget me before I could even find a person to marry, let alone give her grandkids.
‘She was going to forget me,’ echoed in her mind as she wrapped her head around what he was saying. He was more terrified of losing his mother and missing time with her than he was about being in prison. He really put every ounce of his love into his family, it was beautiful.
“I applied to work at the sanatarium,” is how she answers. “They needed a GP and I need a job. This way I can see her every day, and you can go to work or teach or do whatever and know she’ll be okay. And old people seem nicer than cops and criminals.”
“I love you.”
She laughs, kissing his neck softly. “She’ll be okay, we’ll get her taken care of and who knows, maybe we’ll have more answers before a grandkid rolls around.”
It’s a risk, joking about having kids with him already. But she was ready for a life sentence with him, willing to stay in that god-awful prison as long as he was there. Including if he lost his case.
“You’re too good to me.”
“I try,” she smiled. “You’re pretty fantastic yourself, I didn’t just fall in love with your pretty face, sure you’re helpful and do what I say. But I love you because of what’s in here,” she ran her hand over his chest.
He just held her, silence encapsulating the room finally. The record stopped playing in the living room, no one was on the street at this time of night, the world stopped as she laid in his arms.
The Sunday morning sun was going to start coming up as she stayed up in his lap, both of them settling more against the pillow. She had no plans to get off him, he had no plans to separate from her loving embrace.
a/n: still working on an epilogue idk when it'll be done
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5 and 18 for ivy, 3 and 10 for ignis and 11 and 16 for onyx? :D
LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
how does your oc feel about their new outfit? do they like it? do they feel uncomfortable in it?
Ivy: She doesn’t hate it necessarily. She’s always wanted a pretty dress. However, it doesn't mean that she's not messing with it the whole time. Come on, she's not doing this to impress anyone, why couldn't she get a cape with this at least?! Oh. Oh, wait. She stops fiddling with her dress immediately after meeting Rollo and seeing his assistant.
how does your oc feel after everything that happened? do they cry? are they mad at rollo? do they want to go home as soon as they can or they want to stop this madness even if it takes some time?
Ivy: She just wants to go to sleep, to be honest. Ivy is not the type of person to want to process her emotions after something big. She wants to go home and work. She buries her feelings in her work and interacting with other people. In her mind, she's thinking, "Why should I try to stop this madness when he's the one that started all of this?" She isn't mad at him but she will be if she's forced to clean up his mess. Ivy doesn't believe in sitting down to analyze one's emotions and sort through them, she thinks that it's a waste of time when she could be doing literally anything else. (Probably texts Vil and says, "LMAOOOOOOOOO GUESS WHO ALMOST GOT KILLED so if I die, whatever you do, find me a husband and tell him I loved him!!!!")
what does your oc think about rollo? what was their first thought when they saw him? do they trust him?
Ignis: The first thing he thinks is, “What did Iris tell me when she was telling me goodbye?” And the thing she said was not to trust the new people (well, she said it with a lot of curse words in between). Therefore, he does not trust him. He looks at his bangs and he’s horrified, he genuinely wants to ask who cut them. He thinks Rollo needs some sleep or at least something to lighten up.
what are they most excited about? is it the festival, the food, new places to explore, meeting new people, maybe they can't wait to dance with a particular character?
Ignis: He cooks. He will eat. And he gets to spend time with Colette! They never spend time together, now that he thinks about it, so this is a great opportunity for both of them to hang out. He doesn't really dance with anyone, to be honest, because Medi's not there and he's going >:(, and in his mind, he's literally saying, "I should've dragged her here." But he does dance with Colette (and tells Titus on the phone: "BRO, THIS IS STRICTLY PLATONIC, I SWEAR ON MY COLLECTION OF ROCKS WITH GOOGLY EYES--" "Ignis, it is past 9 pm. I am asleep. Just make sure she doesn't run off, she tends to do that a lot."
do they actually want to learn more about the city of flowers or they just think of this as a fun school trip? are they serious about it or they just want to chill?
Onyx: He’s chilling! Of course, there is no chill with NRC but he’s doing his best. Also, he gets to see Val again so that’s always fun. He literally has a database in his head that could tell him everything he wants to know about the city of flowers but he ignores it deliberately. The only thing he does do is go around to taste the bread. The bread better make him want more or he'll think that this trip is a waste of time. Bring the beat in? Nah, more like bring the bread in.
do they try to help everyone else or they go "every man for himself" and care about their own well-being the most?
Onyx: Ah well, call him selfish but he’s only helping out specific people because fire terrifies him. It reminds him of too many bad memories but part of him is yelling to help out, especially since Valkyrie is the most at risk. He still remembers what Val did for him and he feels as though he owes part of his life to her. Who would he be if he didn't help her when she's literally on the verge of dying? He doesn't worry about anyone else, they can all save themselves but this is the first time he's since Val in a long time and she's going to die? He will save her, although he'll be terrified the whole time.
#🔮.oc talks !#the poisonous anarchist: ivy#the pretty dragon: ignis#the altered cyborg: onyx#someone needs to tell ivy she cannot run away from her emotions forever#also onyx's part is kind of a hint in his backstory#ignis is panicking bc he thinks titus will think something#meanwhile titus is going 'dude you're interrupting my uno game with gale and medi'#everyone's chilling until rollo decides to play blow by kesha#ivy: haha can i combust NOW seth ???
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𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝐾𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑
Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.
✿𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
When everyone reunited back at the checkpoint at the appointed time and Hongjoong saw you weren't there, he knew something went wrong. There was always the risks of something going wrong during a mission and in this case, you were captured by the enemy and taken hostage. Hongjoong didn't even wait for a ransom note or call from the others, he went out of his way to look for you. You were an important member of his gang and he especially had a special place for you in his heart. So naturally he searched even through hell for you.
"I'm warning you right now, if you don't give me back Y/N, I will destroy you and everything you built up." Hongjoong warned the other mafia boss.
He just let out a laugh. "You'll never get your little pet back."
Hongjoong took out his gun and smirked.
"Oh I'll get them back all right."
That was a definite promise.
✿𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
"See? Your leader doesn't care about you. He never answered our message. Maybe you should rethink who you work for."
The rival's words were stuck in your head. You tried not to let them get to you, knowing you were stronger than this. You refused to believe that Seonghwa wouldn't look for you. But after days of being locked up, the solitude began to get to you. You began to believe that maybe Seonghwa really didn't care enough to rescue a member of his team. Just when you thought all hope was lost, you heard a commotion outside, followed by gunfire and screaming. The man himself then burst through the door, looking agitated.
"Come on. Let's get you out of here." He said as he began freeing you from the chains holding you down.
"And here I thought you forgot about me." You chuckled lightly.
Seonghwa stopped and looked at you.
"I could never forget about you. You're too important for me to leave behind."
✿𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
He was freaking out, but tried so hard not to. He had to keep his cool. As a leader, he could not look weak in front of the others, and he especially did not want to let it be known that he had feelings for you. That would only put you in more danger than you already were, and would complicate things. So the best he could do right now was patiently wait for Yeosang to get your coordinates to break you out.
Which he did end up doing, almost effortlessly. You remember the way he held you in his arms so tightly, as if you were a fragile vase and not the tough mafia member you were. It was Seonghwa the one who noticed how Yunho changed a little when he was around you.
"Just admit it, you have feelings for Y/N."
Yunho stiffened at his words, but kept his cool.
"I can't do that. It'll be dangerous if the wrong people find out."
Yunho swore he'd keep his feelings a secret, but soon enough stolen kisses were given at his office or in his car.
✿𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
You just kept laughing at all the threats the man in front of you was blurting out.
"You think this is a joke?" He asked as he circled around the chair you were bound to.
You honestly thought about how foolish he was, thinking about how he thought he gained the upper hand by kidnapping you, when in reality, that was the plan all along.
"What time is it?" You simply asked.
The man looked at you confused before saying. "Almost 9 pm."
You smirked at him knowing anytime now Yeosang would have cornered the entire building. Thanks to the tracker they hid in your body, it was a piece of cake to locate the enemy and end them once and for all.
"Were you scared?" Yeosang asked as he cut the ropes on your body.
"Me? Scared. Never." You answered.
"What if I hadn't come for you at all?"
You looked at him and chuckled. "We both know you'd come for me no matter what."
Yeosang couldn't help the smile that formed on the corners of his lips. He didn't even deny what he knew himself was the truth.
✿𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
"It's been 2 days! Why haven't you guys been able to find them?!"
Mingi sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"San, we're doing all we can. Yunho and Jongho are out in the field searching for clues while Hongjoong and Yeosang are busy with hacking every camera they can. We're trying our best."
"Well clearly it's not good enough!"
San was nearly chaotic at this point as he smashed one of the ornaments on his desk against the wall, shattering it, all the pieces on the floor resembling his heart right now as he contemplated what might happen if he couldn't find you.
Mingi seemed to understand his friend's despair, so he put a hand to his shoulder and assured him:
"We'll find Y/N. Don't worry about it. You'll have them back by your side."
✿𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
Mingi knew he shouldn't have let you go on the mission with them. You were still a rookie and he knew a lot of the other members wouldn't be particularly protective of you, at least not in the way he was. So when you were captured, he really blamed himself for it, beating himself mentally over not taking care of one of his members.
You on the other hand were scared about what would happen to you and you honestly didn't think you were important enough for Mingi to save. You were wrong about that. Mingi went as far as taking a bullet just to get you back.
"I'm sorry." You told him one day.
"For what?" He asked.
"For this." You gently traced the bandage around his arm. "If it weren't for me, you would have never gotten hurt..."
Mingi smiled and tilted your chin up.
"Honestly? This is nothing. I'd take another bullet anyday if it meant I'd keep you safe."
✿𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
As soon as Wooyoung saw you, he quickly ran over to you and began to check your body.
"Are you ok? Are you hurt? Is every piece of you complete?"
You were astonished to see him worry a lot about you since he usually criticized you or belittled you at times, you thought he really didn't like you.
"I'm tired, but I'm all right." You answered him.
"Ok then pipsqueak. Let's get you out of here."
It took a lot of running, gunfire and bodies to step over, but you all made it out of there alive and with no limbs missing. You and Wooyoung were panting by the time you got in the car.
"Hey.....thanks..." You finally said once things calmed down.
"You better be pipsqueak. Seriously? How dumb could you be to get yourself taken? Don't think I'll do this another time if it happens again." Wooyoung began scolding you like he usually did.
But deep down, he knew that was a lie. He'd do it over and over again.
✿𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
Jongho himself couldn't go in to get you out personally. Since he was one of the stronger members, he had to be outside and hold off the enemies, giving San and Mingi time to go inside and get you out as fast as they could. Once he caught sight of you guys coming out, he motioned for Seonghwa and Yunho to get the cars.
Even through all the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he checked to see your injuries.
"Where are you hurt?" Jongho asked.
"I'm fine." You tried saying.
"No you're not. These cuts look deep. I'll look at them myself when we get home." He said as he examined some gashes that were on your sides.
"Isn't Hongjoong the one who does the medical check ups?" You questioned.
Jongho raised an eyebrow at you. "What? Don't you trust me?"
"It's not that! I just....don't see why you'd go through the trouble." You tried explaining.
"I'm just worried about you ok? I want to make sure you're all right. So please...let me take care of you."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez mafia au#mafia!au#mafia!ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines
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“Anchor”-A Tim and Lucy Novella
Summary: When you’re about to go somewhere that is unknown, what you’re looking for is something or someone to keep you rooted in who you are. This is a bit of an AU but set before the season 3 finale before Lucy goes undercover.
Hello everyone! SO this is my submission to the Chenfordfanficweek2021 for the “free category”. I’ve been editing and working on this piece for about 4 months now and I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I have to post it here for now, because my invitation to join Archive of Our Own got extended to July 31 😭
Warning: there are mentions of drug addiction, and there's a lot of kissing. So if either of those are triggering for you, I don’t recommend it. Let me know what you think! This is the first fanfiction I’ve written in 15 years, so I know I’m a little rusty but I’m actually pretty proud of it. Huge shout out to @farfarawaygirl for her encouragement to share and her willingness to read over this multiple times and giving me extremely helpful feedback. I hope you still like it after I changed the title 3 times 😛
Lucy Chen was vibrating with excitement. Harper had asked earlier at the beginning of her last shift if she was ready to go on her first undercover assignment. She’d been waiting and hoping it would be soon since she became a P2, but she didn’t anticipate it would be the first month of her second year. She didn’t think she had made enough of an impression yet to be trusted with this assignment. When Harper had briefed her on the case, she had revealed that she was going under as “The Chemist” again and this time it would be for an extended operation.
As she was driving down the boulevard, Lucy watched the road as the light from the line of streetlights would flash in and out of her car interior bathing her hands in an orange glow. Lucy remembered when she had been in the station in the room with Sargent Grey as he told her how this was going to work for her. She was instructed that she couldn’t take what belonged to her on assignment. No photos, no hair care products she had purchased with her own money. No jewelry. That last one was what she was the most apprehensive about. She looked down at the opal ring on her finger and twisted it slowly back and forth as she kept one hand on the steering wheel.
Without these reminders she had started to wonder what was going to anchor her to herself. She wore her ring on a daily basis when she wasn’t in uniform, and it grounded her just like the day she threw it off her finger; it stabilized her when she had the ring thrown back to her from the hands that had lifted her away from her death.
What if I can’t remember who I am when I’m under? What if I forget that I have a life outside of those circumstances?
It had been a week since Harper’s offer and 3 days since she had been briefed by Sargent Grey. Nova. She had tried the name out on her lips earlier that day and something about it felt familiar and foreign at the same time. She had been so excited until she saw his face and just like that her excitement was tempered and she felt a sense of dread she didn’t feel before.
Finally, she had reached her destination. She put her Nissan in park and pressed the button that shut the engine off. She was sitting outside of his house hoping to try and get an answer to a question that had been running around in her mind without fail this entire week. Tim knew she was going under the next day. He had been in the squad room when she told him. She didn’t think he should have heard it from anyone else. So why did he walk away?
He had worn his stern face not giving away anything except for the glimmer of surprise and anger she saw in his eyes for a brief moment.
He’d mumbled “Good luck” and “Be safe” then he walked away without another word.
That wasn’t good enough for her. She was not going to let him just leave her and pretend that he had no opinion when she knew for a fact he did.
Which is what brought her to his door at this hour of night. Truth be told it was only 9 pm, but it might as well have been midnight with the amount of nerves that were coursing through her body at this moment.
She had parked just shy of the driveway as she stepped out of the car and shut the door, pressing the button to lock all the doors without the beep of her key fob. She started walking up the path to the front door and she froze just staring at the outside door. Her palms were sweaty and she started to wring her hands out in front of her.
Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Maybe it would be safer to just turn around and go home and prepare for a new life with a bottle of tequila instead.
Before she lost her nerve, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. She didn’t know how long she waited there. It could have been 30 seconds; it felt like 30 minutes. Finally, she saw the light switch on in the living room and Tim opened the door.
To say that Tim’s face was shocked was an understatement. His eyebrows had shot up with his eyes blown slightly wide open looking briefly disarmed.
He looked insanely good for him just being home alone.
Well I hope he was alone.
She didn’t see any shoes lined up at the door and Tim didn’t look like he was waiting on anyone.
Tim was wearing the same shirt she had seen him wear on her Plain Clothes Day. His blue shirt looked like he had just pulled it over his shoulder with its wrinkles. He adjusted it so it was pulled forward then his arms were crossed across his chest.
She opened her mouth, but words failed her.
He beat her to it and found his voice first, “Lucy?” He said carefully almost as if to test if she was a mirage.
“What are you doing here? I thought your first day was tomorrow, shouldn’t you be prepping?” He paused and searched her face and stared her directly in the eye
“Or did you change your mind?”
Tim looked at her with an intense gaze and for a second she could swear she was his rookie again and he was scrutinizing her every thought. Typically, one look from him would spin her out, but she wasn’t his rookie and she didn’t come all this way to fall on her face.
Lucy looked up at him trying to remember the rehearsed words she had figured out on the car ride here.
Her voice didn’t sound like her own when she replied, “I’m leaving tomorrow and I wanted a reminder of who I am before I go.”
She took her eyes away from his eyes and stared ahead of her almost ready to bail all together. She took a deep breath and stood up a little straighter.
“I needed to see you and I had a question I needed an answer to.” She finished with more boldness than she started as she took a step forward.
Tim’s eyes narrowed then he put his arms down to his sides placing his hands in his pockets.
“What answer are you looking for from me?” His voice was a little deeper than it was before.
Lucy knew this was her now or never moment, she could tell him all of these reasons right here outside of his door while he was on the other side of the threshold ;where she wanted to be more than anything. Or she could show him.
Lucy took another tentative step forward so she was almost touching his chest with her proximity. By this point Tim’s hand had come out of his pocket, but before he could say anything, she had stood up on her tip toes and reached her hand around his neck and gently pulled him down and pressed her lips to his.
At first, neither one moved. It was almost as if they were afraid to respond. Then Lucy could feel Tim’s hands on either side of her waist pressing his finger tips in.
Tim’s lips moved first over hers. He slid his lips in between hers and he tugged gently on her bottom lip pulling it into his mouth. She clutched at the hair on the back of his head as she pushed her head forward slightly being pulled into his proximity even more.
At some point, Tim had pulled her inside his house and had closed the door. His hands moved from her waist to cupping her face. They stood in his living room kissing just testing the feeling out. Lucy could feel Tim’s hands move from around her face and grip the back of her head gathering her hair tresses in between his fingers.
Briefly, Lucy slipped her shoes off at the door, so she matched his barefoot appearance. She could hear the quiet thud as the shoes hit the floor and she kicked them to the side away from them without pulling away from Tim.
Lucy kissed him back with every feeling she didn’t know how to tell him. She teased her tongue at the seam of his mouth and silently asked for permission to enter his mouth and deepen the kiss. He obliged and opened his mouth to let her in. As she continued her ministrations, he moved one hand to the small of her back pulling her flush against his body.
Wow he’s actually really REALLY good at this.
Lucy’s hands moved to push Tim’s button down shirt off of his shoulders, but she couldn’t get it completely off of him. He chuckled slightly against her lips, pulled away, and shrugged it off. He wasn’t gone for long, he pulled her to him within the tense of a breath and Tim removed her cardigan and wrapped his arms around her waist completely.
Both of them stood with just their undershirts as they continued to test these waters they both had been too afraid to jump into.
Suddenly, Tim stilled his hands on her hips and pulled back with his forehead resting on hers.
“Lucy” he whispers it and his warm breath breathed across her lips.
Lucy tries to say words but all that comes out is a whisper “Tim...that was..”
He cut her off before she could finish.
“Unexpected?” he chuckles with a lopsided grin she could see.
Lucy laughs quietly too. She moved her hands from his shoulders back around his neck to anchor herself because she feels like she’s going to fall over.
“Lucy, I was on my way to see you, I didn’t like how silent I was to you. I wanted to tell you I…”
Lucy didn’t let him finish as she reached up as she pushed herself upward and kissed him instead. She took control this time as her lips glided over his. She nipped at his bottom lip which caused him to shudder and groan quietly. She let go with a small pop and she moved her lips to murmur in his ear
“I wanted to talk too, but you know right now I want to see what the show me kind of guy will do instead.”
Tim stared at her for a beat. His eyes looked down to her lips and back up her eyes. Lucy thought he had decided not to continue. Instead, he started kissing her again. Suddenly, his hands lifted her up onto his waist holding her with his arms wrapped around her as she straddled his waist.
He carried her down the hall and took her into what she assumed was his room. He placed her down on her feet and slowly turned her so her back was against his chest. He placed his hand on her hip bone and stroked where her shirt had risen up. Tim had used his other hand to sweep her hair off of her shoulder that exposed her neck to him. She leaned to the side slightly so he could have full access.
Tim’s mouth feathered kisses down her neck and onto her shoulder. Lucy shivered. Then, he moved his kisses upward to the shell of her ear where he nipped and took it gently between his teeth.
Lucy squirmed from the intensity of the feelings and pressure building up in her belly all the way down to her toes. Sensing her trying to move away from him, he moved his hand from her hipbone to splay his fingers flat across her stomach firmly, but not too tight. Lucy moaned quietly as she felt the stubble of Tim’s face against her skin.
Tim says huskily in her ear “So, what question did you want me to answer?”
Lucy spins herself around so she’s facing him in the dark with only the slivers of moon streaming through the blinds.
“Remember when I said we didn’t need to talk.”
Lucy feels Tim smile against her lips and he kisses her quickly, then he pulls away while running his hands down her upper arms. Lucy hears him speak and Tim’s voice sounds like it’s all around her.
“But what about tomorrow?”
Lucy reached up her hands to cup his jaw.
“Tomorrow, I’m Nova.” But tonight my name is Lucy Chen. and I just want to keep kissing you.”
Lucy leans forward just hovering over his lips, ”Please Tim.” Her eyes look into his and glance down to his lips.
Tim looks down at her with a look that she hasn’t had the privilege of seeing until now. His eyes wander over her face and his admiration and fear shines back at her through his blue eyes. He groans out loud as he places his hands tenderly around her face rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks.
“I want to kiss you, I want to continue this..but you’re leaving tomorrow. And I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”
Instantly, Lucy takes in his words and knows that he’s remembering back to when Isabel had said similar things to him before she walked out on her final assignment as the Isabel he knew. She had lost herself. She had become someone else. Lucy looks down and steps away from him, but she doesn’t step away too far.
She runs her hands over her hair trying to smooth it out from his ministrations. She catches her breath as she watches Tim look down and away from her catching his own.
Lucy sits on the bed behind her and reaches out her hand for Tim to take. Tim wraps his fingers around hers as she tugs him down to sit next to her on the edge. Tim releases her hand and turns on the small lamp on his nightstand that adds a quiet glow to the room which illuminates his face to her. Now, she can see the tension and conflict in his eyes that’s written all over his features that the dark had hid from her before as he had run his hands down her body.
I was too distracted. How could I have missed this?
Lucy reached for his hands and held them in hers. He looked down at their joined hands, but he didn't look her in the eye. His jaw tenses. Lucy is thrown by the sadness she feels coming off of him where desire had been before. She lifts one of her hands from his to turn his face towards her with her hand on his cheek. She looks at him with tears shimmering lightly in her eyes that are reflecting his own.
“Tim I’m not Isabel, I know she volunteered right out of the gate when she could. I was asked to do this assignment because they trust me to follow protocol. I know you’re looking at me now and you see her, but Nova is an alter ego not someone I want to become.”
Tim’s expression hardens slightly as he speaks, “Isabelle was known for her professionalism. She had hundreds of successful ops, until me day she didn’t. One minute she was bringing down drug dealers, the next she was she was the one lining their pockets.. and other things..” Tim pulled away from her and turned his body towards the nightstand opposite of her.
He continued, ”Some officers in her department said it was her relationship with me that caused her to be more willing to compromise. Her shrink at rehab told me that it was her feelings for me that clouded her judgement and she was already ready to consider those compromises to seem insignificant.”
Lucy had started to tear up at his words. He still held all this guilt that he was somehow responsible for her and for the choices she had made.
He thinks he’s the reason she failed. He thinks her having feelings for him caused her to fall down into the pit of addiction.
“Tim, remember when I told you that addiction affects the family of an addiction just as much as the addict.”
He nodded with his head down staring at the floor rubbing his hands together in front of him.
She couldn’t bear not touching him in some way, letting her physical touch provide comfort to him about a past she hadn’t been a part of, but who she was repeating in front of him.
Lucy moved herself closer to him on the bed so her thighs were resting against his. She felt a jolt go through her, but she was more interested in this intimacy with him more than sex. She put her arms around his shoulders holding on to him. She hoped her words could help him to see the truth and to start to let go of all the lies inside his head.
“Tim, I care about you. You are brave, and considerate. You are calculating, but never cruel. You’re never cruel. You didn’t cause Isabelle to succumb to addiction. You are incredible, but you are not that powerful. She was her own person before she met you and even though you were married she was always the one responsible for herself. She took that needle in her hands. She injected it. These were her choices. It’s not your fault what happened.”
By this point Tim had stiffened and his shoulders slumped forward as he started to shake a little under her hands. There were tears falling down his cheeks.
Lucy reached up and wiped some away leaning her head against the side of his face holding him.
“It wasn’t your fault. Going undercover wasn’t the cause of her losing herself, it gave her the opportunity to fall into a hole she had already felt before. Addicts aren’t just created overnight. There are thoughts ahead of time, there are many factors. But hey remember she’s clean now. She has her life; she lived. And you know why? A big reason is because you didn’t give up on her. You helped her.”
Tim cleared his throat and wiped his tears away. He turned to her finally so she could see his eyes.
“Okay. But Lucy what happens if you’re put in the same position as she was? What if it’s a matter of life and death? How do I know you’re not going to wash out with no one there to bring you back.”
Lucy spoke quietly, “I’m not Isabelle Tim. I’m a different woman and our relationship is different.”
“Seems pretty damn similar,” he says bitterly. “Except I’m compromising your career now. How can I call myself a training officer again.”
Wow he is so self deprecating. Now he’s trying to push me away. I must have seen him too cleary.
Lucy speaks up, “I am the cop I am because YOU trained me. Your training has saved my life countless times. To be honest, I never expected to have feelings for my training officer. And to be fair, I didn’t actually feel the depth of my feelings for you until after I became a p2. I’m not here because you took advantage of me. I’m with you right now because I want to be. I will NEVER regret knowing you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not going to ruin me.”
Tim lifts his head and looks into her eyes. She sees that they’re slightly puffy from his burst of emotion and reaches forward to kiss his forehead.
Lucy follows quickly. “Okay your turn Bradford because I’d say that was a pretty great declaration of feelings here. I’m not sure you could follow that up.”
Tim laughs softly before he speaks.
“Lucy you were my rookie and I hadn’t thought about you and I together like this. But I remember when you were taken and I chalked up my reaction to guilt and responsibility but the truth is I was terrified that I would never be able to see or talk to you again. Then, when you confessed feelings for me on our last shift, it felt like the world had dropped out below me. I was confronted with what I knew but was unable to acknowledge. Lucy, that terrified feeling I felt when you were buried is how I feel right now knowing you’ll be gone and in danger.”
Lucy nodded her head and tried to contain the tears that were gathering in her eyes. The weight of Tim’s vulnerability and the reality that she is gone tomorrow suddenly hits her like a punch to the gut.
At that moment, she reached out and placed his hand around her waist and she tucked herself into his side placing her head against his chest.
Tim took the hint and pulled her closer to him wrapping his arm tightly around her and rested his head on hers.
“I’ll be okay. I’m going to come home.”
His hands start to draw circles along her side under her shirt.
“You can’t promise that, but I appreciate you trying. I’ve been in this position and I want you but If I’m being honest I don’t know if I can do this again.”
Lucy’s stomach drops with the falling of his words. She turns them over analyzing every syllable. After she lets his words wash over her, She starts to disentangle herself from leaning into his body and she clenches her teeth to prevent the tears from finally gushing out.
“Well I should go..”
Before she can complete her task or her words, Tim pulls her onto his lap instead and wraps his arms around the small of her back burying his head in her neck.
As he embraces her, she no longer stops the tears from falling as they run down her cheeks onto his shoulder. She almost misses it, but she hears Tim’s broken answer “Don’t”.
She’s sobbing before she can stop it.
He holds her tighter to him as he starts to rub his hands up and down her back. It’s like all of her realizations and Tim’s trauma cascades over both of them as they hold on to each other holding on to this moment for dear life not sure how long it will last; if it will last.
Tim’s voice is muffled in her ear as he continues to hold onto her.
“Listen, I can’t change my past or erase the triggers I’m feeling right now. I can’t ignore them but I want to see where this can go. I want to find out what you and I can be. I can’t let you go. I know I shouldn’t, but I want you.”
She lifts her head from his shoulders to see the heat and determination in his eyes. She doesn’t think, she pushes forward and kisses him.
Tim kisses her back and his hands move from her back and down to her upper thighs with his fingers digging into her pants. She starts to reach for the hem at the bottom of his shirt until she feels him pull away with his forehead resting on hers.
He’s breathing heavily and his voice is low and strained, “I want you Luce. God knows I want this with you. But I just can’t be with you right before you leave. But when you come back, Tim Bradford finishes what he starts, you know that better than anyone.”
Lucy pulls away to look at him fully in the light. Tim reaches his hand up to brush the hair off of her face and behind her ear.
“I would like to see it, and If anything this will give me something to look forward to. Hey, your feelings for me are not a liability. They’re an asset. Knowing you’re out there believing in me will encourage me to be the cop I need to be. I’ll remember who I am”.
Tim holds her face with both of his hands and he places his forehead against hers then he whispers to her that makes her heart beat even faster than before if that were possible.
“If you need someone to remind you that you’re Lucy Chen, let me remind you. You are Lucy, the woman who arrested someone on her first day as a police officer. The woman whose compassion has saved more lives next to me than our guns have. The woman who I will not be able to stop thinking about for the next month. The woman who I am insanely attracted to. The woman who is doing the most meaningful thing with her life and many others are better for it including mine. And I’m so proud of you.”
Lucy stifles another sob. “Wow for someone’s that’s a show you type of guy you sure know how to say it too”
Tim leans forward and speaks dangerously low with his hot breath hovering over her lips.
“ Well stick around, I’m full of surprises.”
Lucy laughs and wipes her eyes. She goes to get off of him ready to go home, but his arms stop her.
“Wait, I meant it. I don’t want you to go. Will you stay with me tonight? I just want to feel you in my arms where you’re safe. Please?”
He looks at her with a hesitation and a shyness she hadn’t seen from him since she made his first audio book and she encouraged him to not be ashamed.
Lucy kisses Tim chastely on the lips and holds onto his hair.
“Okay, I think I can stay. Although I never imagined Tim Bradford would be begging me to stay. I think I like the sound of that”
Tim smiles against her lips. “Don’t get used to it” as he falls against his pillows and takes her down with him. He spoons her with her back to his chest. He curls one arm around her waist and one arm around her shoulders as he kisses the side of her head.
She snuggles up close to him pulling the covers over both of them as her eyes start to drift close. She falls asleep to Tim’s voice in her ear telling her how much he’ll miss her and for her to come back home to him.
She started her night worried she was going to forget who she was. And she ended her night wrapped in the arms of the man who has always known exactly who she was. She holds onto him who's always been her anchor. Suddenly, undercover work didn’t look as appealing as it did before, but as her eyes drift shut she realizes she can do this because she knows where she can go back home to.
#chenford#tim x lucy#tim bradford#this is essentially a meta analysis lol#lucy chen#the rookie#anchor#im still figuring out tumblr#chenfordficweek2021#cfw2021#july 17#a day off#too early
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{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.2
♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages. ♥ TW: Nightmares related to PTSD. Little NSFW. no further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥Thank you for the likes and follows, I appreciate it them so so much! If you wanna know when I’ll be updating the next chapters, you can follow me on Twitter @LawIsMyWaifu, come interact I love to have mutuals that love Law and One Piece as much as I do ♥
Word count: 4.1K
» List of parts: {CH1} {CH2} {CH3} {CH4} {CH5} «
Chapter 2.
The sound of his low, raspy voice resonated all over my head, making my body react instantly. I gasped as I felt a strike of pleasure travelling down my stomach to in between my legs. Closing my eyes, unable to move, I didn’t want to move, I wanted him to keep whispering, to kiss my neck… “Hahahaha, I’m sorry, I’m just fooling around, your face, you look astonished Y/N-ya”, he said while laying back on the bed, laughing. I chuckled as I stood up brushing my clothes as if I was trying to fix them. “Stop it, I’m not into that you ass. Goodnight”, I said trying to dissimulate how agitated and embarrassed I was.
Almost running, I left the room, directly to mine, holding on my hand my underwear. I jumped to my bed resting violently on my back. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” ... a little time passed until I passed out.
Hard knocks on my door woke me up. “Vice-Captain!! wake up! breakfast is ready!!!” Clione shouted from the corridor. “God damn how many times I have to tell this whole crew I fucking hate being awakened with shouting?” I mumbled annoyed, covering my face with the sheets.
I was brushing my hair when I remembered my “memory box” for some reason. Opened my drawer and found the little velvet red box that holds my “treasures”. Inside, there is a photo of my parents with me when I was 7, happy, eating some ice cream with them. It was taken during one of “the white parades”, on Flevance, before everything turned into hell. A little blue bow that my little sister used to wear, some photos of Law, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and me when we were the only members of our crew. And, a necklace Law made with some seashells as a gift for my 15th birthday, were also inside.
I got watery eyes while looking at it, “I must be getting old”, I thought, “I got emotional over the memories” ... laughed and put everything back to its place.
“Morning..” I said, greeting the whole crew that was already devouring their breakfast. I noticed Law wasn’t there, so I had to ask. Uni told me he was in the control room preparing for the arrival at the next island. I took a few pancakes and some tea and headed to the control room to ask my captain if he needed help.
“Good morning, doc”, I saluted him. Law that was seated facing the controls, turned the chair to look at me nodding. He has more dark circles as always, so I asked him, “Oi, did you sleep last night? are you feeling sick again?”. “I’m ok, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I got caught up with the book I was reading”, he answered with his usual unfriendly tone. “Yeah, right” I answered back, rolling my eyes, and proceeded “Let me know if you need something before we get to the island”. Left the control room and went back to my room.
I knew him well to know he hadn't slept because something was worrying him, and not because he was reading the old comic book of “Sora, the warrior of the sea against the evil Germa 66”. But hey, Law never shows any emotion besides annoyance if he is not sick.
A few hours later, the submarine got to the shore of some winter island, and we all got ready to accomplish our assigned tasks. “Ok everyone, we will meet here at 7 pm, is that clear?” told my crew members, everybody agreed and headed to the island.
The temperature was pretty low, and it was snowing. Law was wearing the long black coat with yellow dots and our Jolly Roger that he used to wear at Punk Hazard, his hat and of course the Kikoku over his shoulder. I love when he wears warm clothing, he looks so cozy, hiding his mouth behind the collar. (He does it so his lips don’t get chapped with the cold breeze, haha). I don't like to wear the boiler-suit when we get to explore islands, so I decided to wear a long yellow coat with a hood, also with our crew's Jolly Roger emblazoned on the left side of the chest.
We asked a few civilians where to find a pharmacy and headed to the destination following their instructions. Law didn’t say much during the walking, as he normally does.
The island seemed a little bit deserted, yet it had picturesque streets, full of colour that stand out from the snow. It has cobbled lanes, some canals of crystallized water, there were wooden houses and shops with little lights that garnished their architecture giving the place a romantic aura. The scenery behind the city center included big snowed mountains and a big castle over one of the highest peaks.
I saw a boutique with some cute sweaters on display that caught my eyes and I wanted to try them on. “Law, would you mind if I enter here? I want to buy a new sweater.”, I said. Law looked at me and made a gesture with his hand as he was saying to go ahead.
While searching for the sweater I like on one of the clothing racks I saw through the shop window that a few kids approached the captain. The seller asked me if I needed some help, so I stopped looking at him and l directed my gaze to the girl in the shop. So, I forget about him.
After buying two cute pullovers, we continued walking through the picturesque streets.
When we finally arrived at the pharmacy shop, it seemed like it was closed, but the door was open, so we entered. I rang the bell over the counter and waited for someone to show up. Law walked in front of me and had his hand over his sword. I knew he was alert and trying to protect me even if he didn’t say a word. I didn’t think we could be in danger, yet he never fully relaxes when we are outside. After all, he is one of the most wanted pirates of our generation, so it's understandable he trusts no stranger.
After a minute or so, an old lady approached the counter from the inside of the store. She seemed a little weak and perhaps a little sick. She coughed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief, and then greeted us. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”, she asked. Law handed her a list of supplies we needed, and we waited. “Oi, don’t you think she looks bad? I mean, she is probably sick, should I ask if she is ok?”, I told Law who gave me a disapproving sight. I rolled my eyes, and said, “Fiiiine…”, “You know that I hate you rolling your eyes at me, you did it yesterday and now too. Stop it.” I looked at him with an “excuse me?” face and while I was about to spit an insult to him the granny appeared. “I’m sorry, I put on the bag some of the supplies, but I don’t have everything you need. We are short on medicines'', she informed us and started coughing harder. “Excuse me, Mrs. Are you alright? are you sick?”, I asked as she seemed to lose composure from all the nagging coughing. Law, that hated when I don’t give a fuck about what he had just said, gave me the look of death. “Oh young lady, we are pretty much sick, a strange illness is hitting the island. Even the only doctor in town fell ill. The orphanage, though, is getting the worst part. All of the kids are bedridden”, as she said, the memories of Flevance and the amber lead disease hit me.
Law's expression changed to a more compassionate one and asked about the symptoms they were experiencing. He might be serious, he might not want to get involved in a lot of things, but he is a true doctor. And he can't let people die if he can help.
We decided to visit the orphanage in hopes of helping the sick people, so we asked the old lady to give us directions to it. She said it was pretty far from the city center and told us her husband would take us there with his cart.
"Thank you so much for offering your help, young doctors", said the old lady's husband that later told us his name was Gerald. The cart was pulled by two brown percheron horses that opened their way through the white landscape.
We had a small talk during the journey, until Gerald asked, "how long have you been together? Are you already married?". Despite the freezing cold weather, my cheeks turned to fire, and I could sense Law hiding his head even more into his coat and hat. Almost as if clarifying that we were no couple was a life or death situation I said, "WE ARE JUST BEST FRIENDS!". I realized I almost shouted and felt mortified. Gerald looked at us with a little smirk and kind eyes, excusing himself for the mistake.
A few minutes after we arrived at the orphanage. It took us almost 30 minutes to get there and the sun was starting to set on the horizon.
When we entered the place, the situation was worse than we thought. There were kids and adults lying on the ground, some of them shivering, others coughing while others were straight unconscious. A few nurses were working in order to maintain them, but the situation had clearly surpassed them.
Immediately Law and I started working. While I helped the nurses, Law used his ope ope no mi power to scan the bodies of the sick people.
We got to the conclusion that what they were suffering was a type of bacteria that caused the respiratory symptoms and the fever.
During our duty, there were times when our eyes interlocked, and we smiled at each other. I wouldn't say we like people suffering, but, we certainly enjoyed working to save lives together.
A few hours passed since we arrived there, the sun was already set, and outside it seemed as if a snowstorm was beginning. I've lost track of time until my portable Den Den Mushi started to ring. "Oi, y/n, where are you? Is Law with you? Are you alright? We've been waiting for you on the shore! It's 9 pm already and we were supposed to meet at 7!", shouted Shachi from the other side of the line. "Oh my God I'm sorry I forgot to tell you!... you see …" I explained to them what we've been doing and that we were probably not going to return to the submarine in a few more hours.
The kids and the other people began to get better and those who were helping there offered us some food that we accepted happily.
While we were having dinner, Gerald got back from outside, who's been in the forest collecting some firewood. He informed us that the weather was getting really bad so coming back to town would be pretty dangerous.
Law and I agreed that staying there for the night was the safer choice.
One of the nurses, Sister Alley, told us we could spend the night in the cabin next to the orphanage. "I'm really sorry guys, I wished we had a better place for you, we owe you so much. The cabin has a fireplace, Gerald would start a fire to keep you warm”, she said. We both smiled at her and thanked for it.
We walked some meters through the forest until we started to catch sight of a wooden cabin. Despite being a strong pirate, I’m the queen of the clumsy people, so I slipped off with what I assume was an ice patch on the already snowy ground. I was about to hit the ground when Law grabbed me by the waist and saved me from a few bruises. His face in front of mine, the feeling of being safe on his arms, I wished it has been eternal. But the romantic moment was destroyed by Law mocking me. “It must be the devil fruit; how come you are so clumsy? Be careful”, he said, and I told him to shut up, this time I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was almost angry at him.
“Here we are, let me help you with the fire”, Gerald said, opening the wood door that creaked as it moved. The inside felt cozy, there were a few cushions and pillows on the ground next to the fireplace. There were no separate rooms, so in the middle of the lounge there was some kind of mattress with a few blankets over it. Our “host” asked for forgiveness about the lack of separate beds, but Law intercepted him and said, “It’s ok sir, we are grateful to have a warm place to stay until tomorrow. If you need help with any patient during the night, just please tell us”. It might be ok for you, damn Law. Was I supposed to sleep with him? - I mean, I wanted to, but, he was still my best friend, and those thoughts should have been erased.
Gerald wished us a good night and returned to the main building.
I hung my coat and as I love to explore, I started to do so around the little wooden house. The kitchen seemed really equipped, so I grabbed a kettle and some cups. Gerald was kind enough to give us some tea bags, so I thought making some tea was a great idea.
Law was next to the fireplace, wearing only a sweater and his jeans. Apparently he has already hung up his coat and his white spotted hat. I saw him once more with a lost sight that seemed to contemplate the firewood.
Looking at him with my face resting on my arm that was over the breakfast nook, I got lost worshiping his profile. I’ve always adored his upturned nose, his spiky black hair, his facial hair, the contrast between his grey eyes and the tanned skin. How come he has always been so handsome, but I’ve never seemed to fully realize?.
The whistle of the kettle intensified as the water started boiling, but I was so into admiring my best friend's beauty that I didn’t notice. Law turned to me and woke me up from my reverie shouting “Oi, Y/N, the kettle!”. My stupid smile quickly erased from my face, and my whole skin turned red. “Sorry”, I said straight away and turned off the burner.
I served two cups, noticing that the tea has an amazing scent. I believe it was hibiscus mixed with some other spices, perhaps some cardamom and maybe a little hint of clover. The smell of the tea mixed with the slightly one from the logs burning, was wonderful.
I walked to where my captain was, “Here, I think you may like it”, I said and handed him a cup. Our fingers brushed softly when grabbed the tea, he looked at me and said “Thanks”. I sat not so near him over one of the cushions and sipped a little bit of my tea. Law looked at me and stood up from his place. I could sense how awkward he felt when he made a little pause, and then walked away.
Why is he leaving? Did I make him feel uncomfortable?, I asked myself trying to hide little stings of pain on my chest that traveled to my throat. Somehow I felt like crying, and when my eyes started to get slightly watery, Law approached me placing his hand over my right shoulder.
I turned my face to him, looking up with a slightly pouty face. I was about to cry, and I didn’t even know why when I noticed a blue little box on his hand.
He sat next to me and said, "Do you remember when we were 15?, that day when I gave you that necklace I made myself for your birthday? I looked at him confused but I answered, "yes, of course, I got it on my memory box, I'm afraid to wear it outside the polar cause it might get lost and I wouldn't forgive myself if I lose it". He was now looking at the little box moving it around nervously and finally said "I got you a better one". He handed me the little box still not looking at me.
"A present?? OMG Law, thank you very much!" When did you buy it??" I almost shouted in excitement while opening the box. Inside there was a fine rose gold necklace that has a little anatomical heart figure as a pendant. I grabbed it and admired the beauty of the jewelry I had in my hands. The heart had a little red stone crimped on it, that shined with every movement.
"Law, this is too much! It must have cost you a lot of Berries, I don't deserve such a fine jewel!, thank you so much", I expressed with a big smile on my face.
"You do deserve more than this, you know. I'm glad you like it", he said, a little embarrassed. “When you were buying the sweaters, I asked some children there if they knew a jewelry store, turned out it was just around the corner”, he confessed.
“Thank you so much, it is just perfect! You know how I adore hearts; they remind me of you.. “Doctor Heart Stealer”” I almost shouted, realizing I have said too much…
I tried to put it on my neck, but I couldn’t clip it right, so I asked him for help. He stood up, kneel at my back and passed from behind the necklace around my neck.
Some branches hit the window violently as they were suffering the merciless wind of the snowstorm outside.
He struggled a little and finally fastened the collar and when he did, the electric power went off. The fireplace was the only source of light, the dance of the fire created figures with shadows and highlights all around the walls of the cabin. We remained silent, maybe a little scared or even surprised, but enjoying the sound of the weather and the creak of the fire.
He was still behind me, and after a few seconds he placed a soft kiss on my back that sent a shiver through my spine. Once again I was unable to speak, did he… did he just kiss my back?.. Before I could say or do something Law stood up and headed to one of the windows. “The storm seems to be even worse than earlier; don’t you think?”, he said, trying to device something through the window.
I couldn’t focus on anything else than the kiss he softly planted on my nape, minutes ago. He suddenly yawned and walked to the mattress that was in the center of the room, on the floor. He then took his jeans off and hopped inside the bed, naturally. I remained on my spot, contemplating his actions. “How could he be acting so normal?, I’m right here. He just gave me a necklace, kissed my skin and now he just goes to sleep?” I said to myself, still with a confused expression on my face.
“Oi, aren’t you coming to bed?”, he asked me, freely. “Yes… give me a second”, I said, and ran to the bathroom. The toilet was pretty tiny and basic, but enough for me to hide for a few minutes. “Come on, Y/N you slept with him two nights ago, it’s ok, he is like your brother, it’s ok…” I thought, trying to calm myself down.
I finally left my hiding place and headed to the mattress. Law was lying there, he took off his sweater, probably while I was in the bathroom, so he was only using a white tight undershirt, that molded his torso anatomy. Some blankets were covering the under part of his body from his hips. He had his forearm over his eyes, covering them with his neck stretched back.
I bite my lip, as a reaction for such a tempting scene. I was enjoying it, watching him breathe peacefully. I started feeling hot, so I took off the sweater but not my jeans and approached the “bed”.
I thought Law was already asleep, so I got in bed trying not to wake him up. I muffled myself up with the sheets. I remained still, hearing the snowstorm, fixing my eyes on the wooden ceiling, as the memories of my childhood flooded my mind. It must be the snowstorm, the wind, the cold that triggered these memories. eventually I fell asleep.
“No, stop it, my family, leave us alone!!!!”, I screamed. “Y/n-ya! Y/n-ya!, wake up!” said Law, pulling me out from the terrific oneiric world I was submerged in. I got lost into his eyes, and remained there with tears streaming from my eyes, rolling into my cheeks. Law was holding me close to his body around his arms. “Are you having those nightmares, again? why didn’t you tell me?”, he asked, worried. “This is the first time in ages, I think it must be the storm, perhaps the orphanage, the children…”, I expressed amid tears. My best friend brushed his tattooed fingers through my hair, moving it out of my face, and then wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Oi, do you remember what happened when I gave you the first necklace?” he asked, trying to distract me. A feeling of warmth invaded my insides, suddenly I felt happy. “I do...” I said, laughing timidly, and continued, “It was my first kiss”. He smiled back at me, and said, “Mine too”.
For a second we both closed our eyes. I was grabbing the pendant with my left hand cherishing it and the memories of our younger days when we kissed for the first time. We haven't had much time to think about love while striving to survive so we forgot about it, letting the days, months and years pass, leaving the experience as a mere child’s play.
Suddenly we started laughing, Law didn't let go of me, and our faces were pretty close. “Everything's better when you laugh, I hate it when you cry, it makes me so sad…” he said, rubbing his thumb over my right cheek. I stopped laughing, as he got even closer. Almost as if the point of our noses were about to touch. I could feel the warmth of his breath over my lips, and he did too. My heart started racing, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping on my ears. I wasn’t moving, I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to kiss him… I just didn’t care that he was my best friend, I just needed him to kiss me. What is taking him so long? Why am I not moving if I wanted this more than anything?. After a good minute, that felt eternal, he exclaimed “Fuck it”, and plant the sweetest kiss over my lips. A feeling of happiness filled my insides, I’ve never been so joyful in ages, it felt the same way as the first time. I was like a teenage girl experimenting love for the first time. Both smiled still with our lips pressed. I doubted for a second if succumbing to my deepest desires was the right thing to do until he decided to turn the cute kiss into a more passionate one. From then on, the desire I’d been accumulating inside of me took control of my body…
We kept on kissing; Law slid a hand under my shirt timidly caressing the skin of my tummy. The kisses migrated from my mouth to my neck, mixed with little bites that surely would turn into hickies tomorrow.
“Law…” I gasped when his hands reached my breasts. “What?” he replied, whispering next to my ear and pinching one of my nipples in between two fingers…
Chapter 3
Ch1: Link
#Trafalgardwaterlaw#one piece law#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#Trafalgar law x reader#one piece x reader
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WITH OR WITHOUT DEATH
pairing: grim reaper!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader
genre: fluff and angst, probs more angst
warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activites, mentions of death, angst at the end
word count: 2,482
summary: sakusa was used to a lonely life when he became the notorious grim reaper. he got the cards with the time, place, date, and person of who’s soul he needed to collect, then he would go do his job then leave. that was until he met the bubbly waitress at the 50′s diner with terrible puns but amazing apple pie. if only the council could allow him to keep one, pure soul with him.
reccomended song to listen to: sparks by coldplay
an: okay hI! I’m actually really proud of this little thing I just wrote. This scenario actually takes place in a supernatural realm that I have been developing for ageesss. I’m actually really contemplating on writing a second part to this, so let me know if you’d like that! AND/OR making a writing collection with more haikyuu boys in this universe!! I think it would be really cool to write a supernatural au for the haikyuu boys. lol n e ways, let me know what you think and enjoy!!
sakusa’s breath gets caught in his throat at the mere sight of her. he stands across the street, adorned in his usual black attire and black panama-style hat. a mask covering his identity to the world as he peered into the small diners’ window. she stood behind the counter, chatting with the regulars as she fills up their coffee mugs. a bright smile etched across her face, filling the room with so much joy that his undead heart probably couldn’t withstand it. however for her, it was worth it.
the tacky baby blue waitress outfit matched the 50’s style diner, the color contrasting nicely against her skin. her hair cascades nicely down her back, curled for the dress code she has to withstand.
“it’s cheesy,” he remembers her telling him one night during her late shift, “but I kind of like it, in a charming way.”
it was always the same routine with them; he shows up at the diner at random times, she doesn’t ask questions as she fetches him his usual order, then she sends him that pretty smile of hers as she leans closer to him to talk about his secret. she was the only living soul to know of it, and the only living soul to have an unknown power over him. he wouldn’t trust it with others, but her? he would lay down his own life to hear her whisper his name just one more time.
the rain falling soaks into his black, wool coat. protecting his skin from the harsh air of late autumn. he finally decides to make his way inside the overly hot diner, before he has another soul to guide. he only sees her when death is present, he wouldn’t be in the human realm for any other reason. that was part of his deal to the council. how amusing is it to be a highly respected, yet exiled demon. the human realm was dirty anyways, in more ways than one. covered in diseases, pervs, assholes, and incubuses that feed daily. they annoyed him the most. loosely throwing around their name like it isn’t the thing that controls them, they just like how their name sounds when a human moans it. disgusting.
his long, bony fingers reach out to pull open the door. the heat hitting him in the face like a sharp slap, knocking the breath out of you if you aren’t prepared for it. the familiar ding from the bells attached to the handle fills the slightly empty diner. only a man sitting at the bar with a burger and a man sitting in a booth with a newspaper fill the occupants. yet his gaze is set on the girl in front of him that turns to meet his eyes. another bubbly smile stretches across her face as she places her hands on her hips.
“well, hey there stranger,” she states, a slight twang in her voice. he walks closer to the bar, sitting on the awkwardly high bar stool as she places his fresh black coffee in front of him, “long time no see, grim.”
she gently takes off his hat, tousling the curls that are hidden underneath it. he likes to think that she’s fixing his hat hair, but in reality she messes it up more. she finds it endearing how the usual put together grim reaper and can have the cutest curls to frame his face. she places his hat on the counter beside him before hooking a finger into his black mask to pull it down his face. if it were anyone else, he would’ve bitten off their finger and disinfected his whole body from the human diseases. dead or not, it still makes his skin crawl. her, however, she’s so pure and untainted.
her soul gives off a vibrant, white light. it glows nicely in the middle of her chest, as if waiting for any sort of sin to darken its glow. he also finds it adorable when her eyes brighten a smidge more to see his full face. even with the gray undertone in his skin color, the soulless eyes, and the eye bags; she stares at him like he’s the most beautiful thing to walk this earth. the mask now rests underneath his chin and her eyes are in delight with what she sees. before he could fully examine her face in the close proximity, she leans away to turn her attention to the man two seats down from him.
“want a refill, mr. k?” she questions as she reaches over to grab the pitcher full of water.
a single letter, that’s what high ranked demons go by in the human realm. you see, if you know the real name of a demon you have full power over them. it’s crucial for demons in power to keep it hidden, that’s why they usually have humans call them by their first initial. sakusa peers his eyes over to be met with the familiar gray locks of one of his colleagues. koushi sugawara, a hellhound. his usual kind stare meets sakusa’s dead stare, sending a small smile his way. sugawara then turns back to wipe the corners of his mouth one more time with his napkin, placing it on top of his now empty plate.
“no thank you, sugar,” he states softly as he placed money onto the counter, sliding it her way, “keep the change, honey.”
“you got it, mr. k,” she gleams at him, her eyes squinting slightly from her big smile, “you have a nice night now.”
sugawara stands from the stool, grabbing his jacket that rests on the chair next to him. shrugging it onto his shoulders as he turns his attention to sakusa sitting next to him.
“it’s nice to see you again grim,” he nods towards him, “still looking as dead as ever.”
“you as well,” he mumbles towards sugawara, a hand being placed on his shoulder to give a light squeeze before he walks out of the diner. he respects sugawara, as he was one of the few that fought for him during his hearing with the council.
his eyes lazily make their way back towards her, to be taken back by how close she was to him. her elbow rests next to his, her head tilting slightly to rest on her hand. her eyes wide and curious as she pushes the slice of apple pie closer to him. steam coming from the fresh pie and tickling his nose slightly, but the aroma fills his nostrils as his stomach rumbles slightly in hunger. why she was so close to him with that look? he wasn’t sure, causing his eyebrows to knit together in confusion as he picks up his utensils to eat her signature apple pie.
“well,” she asks, her eyes still wide.
“well what?” he asks back, finally taking a bite. his tastebuds doing a victory dance with the deliciousness that covered them, physically having to hold back a groan after the sweetness hits him.
“what kind of death was it today?” she asks, her head lifting from her hand as she places it on the counter. leaning slightly closer to him, if he leans in a little more as well their noses would be touching.
he knows that she does this to keep it quiet between them, but it’s a well known fact that he is the grim reaper. people always ask questions about the unusual deaths he sees on a regular basis. however, he appreciates that she respects his privacy. even though she is a curious little thing. he swallows his food before he answers, the fork still being gripped in his hand.
“hit and run,” he says with a smirk.
“tch,” she sneers as she leans back from him, grabbing the rag damp with disinfectant as she begins viciously wiping down the counter, “so much for humanity.”
“what do you mean by that?” he asks with curiosity as he takes another bite.
“well, i mean,” she starts, slightly stuttering over her words. she stops wiping as she stares off behind him, trying to come up with an explanation for how she’s feeling. “I’m beginning to lose my faith in humanity. I mean for crying out loud! we now walk freely with vampires, werewolves, witches, demons! you would think more deaths would be caused by that, but no. it’s still humans killing humans, and i’m glad you help them pass over. you’re more human than any human i have ever met.”
her words drift off at the end as a bashful state takes over her demeanor. the tips of her ears redden as she focuses her gaze on the counter instead of him. it was at this moment, that sakusa knew he would do something he would regret that night. he clenched his jaw as he contemplated his next words.
“when does your shift end?” he asks in his usual monotones voice.
her eyes shift to his, expecting him to lecture her about how he was a demon and she shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly. she was used to his scolding, he did it to her quite often. she swallows and licks her lips before replying.
“9 pm.”
“great, ten minutes for me to finish my pie,” he smiles, “let’s go for a walk after.”
_____________
it’s been fifteen minutes since they first started their walk. his wool coat covers her exposed legs from the cold as her eyes remain upwards towards the night sky. stars twinkle down on them as their comfortable silence is wrapped around them. her mind is gushing over the beauty of the stars, but also over the beauty of him and the two little moles stacked on his forehead. his mind is running a full marathon on how to word his thoughts correctly to her. he’s too analytical, never the one to easily express his emotions. but tonight, for her, he would give it a try.
his mask remains tucked underneath his chin as his eyes remain on the ground. his bottom lip being gnawed at nervously before he takes a deep breath in. as he releases it sharply, he stops his strides next to her. causing her to halt as well, her head looks back at him as she stopped a bit in front of him.
“everything alright?” she asks in a soothing voice.
“in all of my years, alive and undead, i have never encountered something like you,” he whispers, his gaze still on the ground.
“what?” she whispers back, taking a few steps closer to him. the fog of their breaths mixing together at their proximity, she hugs his coat closer to her body as she searches for his gaze to meet his.
“in all of my years, i have never encountered something like you,” he states confidently, his dead eyes now peering into her much livelier ones. “I have met countless of people, and it’s always the same feeling with them. the greed, the lust, the wrath; it’s always one of those deadly sins that have overtaken their souls. it became redundant, annoying even, to see all of the unruly human souls running around doing whatever they want. then I met you, in a little rundown 24 hour diner with the brightest, purest glow emitting from you. you live for selfless deeds, you put yourself before others, you’re hardworking, honest, beautiful, kind, and everything that it takes to awaken my undead soul. it would stupid for me to say that I am not completely in love with you.”
“grim,” she breathes out, her eyes filling with tears over the beautiful words that he has spoken about her. but more importantly, what it would mean for him, for them.
“you know everything about me, even my weak points. you know about my exile, you know about the little human memories i have left, you know how to summon me, you know my name,” he speaks with raw emotion as his skinny hands reach for her face, the plumpness of her cheeks resting nicely in the palm of his hands, “and i’m terrified of how weak I am for you. yet, i can’t hold it in anymore. you speak so highly of me that i feel alive, but i’m not. god, you make me feel so holy. like i could walk into heaven right now. yet, i would kill a man if you just gave me a name.”
one of her hands rests on top of his, her eyes never leaving his. a single tear runs down her face, the first drop for a hurricane. his thumb wipes it away, along with the many more that come after it.
“I’m about to do something, and you and I both know what will happen after this happens,” he explains quietly as he takes one of his hands from her face and wraps it around her waist to pull her closer to him, “but please indulge me, in my own personal sin.”
after the last syllable of the word leaves his lips, he dips his head down to capture her lips with his own. the kiss is deep and full of raw, pure emotion. his grip on her is tight, because he knows that once they separate she’ll have to say it. but all she could focus on was his lips against hers. the saltiness of her tears could be tasted on lips. his skin, which is usually ice cold, is the complete opposite to his warm lips. they fit nicely against hers and move with experience as he continues to deepen the kiss. it seems as if hours had pass in the small minutes of them kissing. she didn’t want it to end, she didn’t want him to pull away. but he did. as soon as their lips part, a sob escapes her body as he rests his forehead against hers.
“send me away, y/n,” he says in a stern, yet soft tone, his hold still tight on her.
“I can’t,” she croaks out, her voice filled with sorrow as her body continues to shake with sobs, “please don’t make me.”
“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers as pulls her closer to him, “i’m so sorry. but you and i both know, you have to.”
another cry is released as she pushes her face into his chest. her hands gripping the black turtleneck sweater, her tears wetting the shirt as well. he can only hold her, rubbing soothing circles into her back as a single tear runs down his cheek as well.
“please go away,” she sobs, “kiyoomi.”
once his name leaves her lips, her wish is his command. he vanishes in thin air, a black smoke replacing where he once was. as she sinks down to hug her knees into her chest, she promised to herself that she would see him again.
with or without death.
#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#haikyuu supernatural au#hq x reader#hq headcanons#hq x you#hq fanfic#hq imagines#hq fluff#hq angst#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq scenarios#hq#sakusa x you#sakusa x reader#sakusa headcanons#sakusa imagines#sakusa fanfiction#sakusa fluff#sakusa angst#sakusa smut#sakusa#msby sakusa#sakusa kyoomi x reader
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four christmases
pairing: ransom drysdale x reader
warnings: slight violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS
word count: 16k
description: part 2 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now,the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale. These are the four christmases you’ve spent with the thrombey/drysdale clan during your times of service.
a/n: this story is brought to you by season 4 of schitt’s creek and maybe 12 cups of coffee. it felt like it took forever to write, but i’m happy to bring it to you. this is the follow up for my other ransom one-shot ‘the assistant’. i hope you guys like it!
2018
What a fucking asshole.
“You have to be there, it’s your job.” Ransom huffed indignantly. You rolled your eyes from the passenger seat of his beamer, tablet open in your lap as you scrolled through your sister’s amazon wishlist.
“I have a family too Ransom. I can’t just abandon my own family on Christmas just because you can’t get along with yours.” His knuckles turned white against the gear shift. Nothing else mattered, only him it seemed, and his whining Mommy complex.
“You were hired to assist me,” Ransom pulled into the drive of his house, tires crunching on the gavel, “So assist.” What a fucking tool. He quickly exited the car not looking behind him to see if you were following into the house, but leaving the front door wide open with the expectation that you were coming right behind.
You had just hopped onto this assistant gig a few months ago. There you were minding your own business as fall began, working for a temp agency, when Linda Drysdale rang you up and asked you to come work for the family again. You had recently been tutoring one of the youngest of the clan, Meg, with her English coursework for her last school year. The pay was good and you were kind of let down when they opted not to keep you on after summer concluded.
Babysitting Ransom paid well, better than it had been to help Meg out, but was it really worth the price? Ransom was a fucking child. You cooked his meals, washed his laundry, and were forced to tail him as he went about whatever business he deemed worthy of his days. Just until 9 pm, that’s all you had to do. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. Off Sundays and Mondays.
It felt like too much and not worth the paycheck. Even if the trust-fund asshole spent his days flirting around from one party to the next. More often than not he found himself a body to bring home leaving you to get an uber back to his place just so you could get your car to go home, or worse yet having you sit awkwardly in the backseat of the car as whoever was in the passenger seat desperately tried to give him road head.
He loved it. You know he did. Eyes flitting to yours in the rear-view mirror as a girl ten years younger than him fumbled with his belt. A fucking smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him, but your sister’s private school tuition held you back.
You followed him into the house, one you had just spent the entire morning cleaning as Ransom slept off his hangover. The prick had dropped his coat on the floor adjacent to the coat hook, shoes haphazardly kicked off beside it, glaring at him as you picked them up while he drank orange juice straight from the carton.
“I’ll pay you time and a half if you come.” He bartered.
“You don’t pay me anything,” You scoffed. “Your Mom pays me.”
“Exactly.” He tossed the carton back in the fridge, coming around the counter to get closer to you. He dropped his voice in what he probably thought was a seductive whisper. The fire it lit in your core would lead you to believe that it actually was a seductive whisper and you just fucking hated him. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He drug a finger down your cheek softly. It only caused you to roll your eyes, batting his finger away and stripping yourself of your coat you turned back to him,
“I want triple.”
Your sister was going to be pissed, but she’ll survive once she realizes you were able to get her a new laptop for school. A compromise.
She cried.
The Thrombey’s were probably the worst people you’ve ever met in your entire life. Harlan was prideful, pompous. He cared about his family, to an extent. He created them after all, his monsters.
Linda was okay, but she was a lot like her father. She felt as though she was better than everyone else simply because she ‘built herself from the ground up’ yeah, if the ground was a million dollars gifted from Daddy. Her husband, Richard, was a glorified sugar baby, you were sure at one point he was a real estate broker, but Linda had the business, he just rode on her coattails.
Walt was a whiny bastard. He was meek. He walked around with a cane and you weren’t sure he even needed it. It could totally be a ploy to try and gain more sympathy from his father. His wife was a drunk, you couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t talk to you anyway. You can’t talk if you always have your mouth wrapped around the lip of a martini glass. Their son, Jacob, was a little alt-right shit. Every comment that came out of his mouth was a dig on some less privileged 99% and if you didn’t need this job you’d shove his head in the toilet yourself.
That leads you to Joni and Meg. Joni and Ransom had both been given an allowance every month. That’s the way they were mostly the same. How they differed was that Joni was at least attempting to have some sort of entrepreneur business where she gained some income, but not enough to live the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had Meg in this expensive ass private school that cost more than your salary a month and Meg found this group of liberal women and now she was becoming the extreme opposite of Jacob. They often bumped heads, with Meg slowly giving in. She always gave in. This was her family and as much as she wanted to fight for the 99% she never actually wanted to be one.
But it was fine.
It didn’t really matter.
You just wanted to go home.
Ransom hasn’t had an empty hand all day thanks to you. “If I’m ever without a drink,” He said on the way over, “You’re walking home.” So this is where you’re standing, with Marta and Fran, you sipping on a weak mimosa that Marta had compromised on, waiting for the day to be over.
Ransom’s eyes met yours from across the room, hand raising his glass, the last little mouthful swishing against its side. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to grab the decanter behind you, walking over to fill his glass. “So I told him to shove it up his ass,” Linda was telling Harlan a story, “If you think for one moment I would give in to anything less than market price you’re out of your mind.” Please love me, she was saying, please see that I’m the best child you have. Harlan’s eyes were dazed, not looking at hers. Thinking. He was always thinking.
The only time Ransom didn’t need you was when he disappeared into his Grandfather’s office. Presents were handed out just before, new iphones, apple watches, macbooks, cartier bracelets, rolexes, a couple of little bonus checks to their allowances, the spirit of Christmas was definitely lost on this family.
It doesn’t matter.
You had just filled Ransom’s glass before he entered the study and you knew he wouldn’t need you until some kind of argument broke out with his Grandfather and you had to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice.
“How’s it goin’ kid?” Richard always kind of made you uncomfortable. He seemed normal, but you were uncomfortable in a ‘this is a rich older white man who liked to corner you alone’ kind of way. For the most part he’s been harmless.
One time, this was early on when you first started to tutor Meg, he found you in a similar way. Alone, in the kitchen. This was one of the first times he had met you and he was sure to let you know, “You’ve got a really pretty face, you know that?” Ew. Thanks? He had gotten close, too close. “How’d a pretty girl like you end up as a tutor?” That’s worse. And cheesy. This looked like one of those times, except he’d been drinking since 8 am.
“I’m fine thanks.” You had been trying to find a minute of peace. There was always someone talking in this house, during ‘debates’ there were usually three or four. This was supposed to be a break. Ransom having been passed off to another wet nurse he could suck off of while you got some rest, and maybe sneak a couple of those expensive chocolate artisanal cookies for good measure. Richard grinned at you, not in the way Ransom would when he was fucking with you, but something more predatory. He was feeling ambitious.
“I just wanted to give you this,” He slipped an envelope across the counter to you, hand resting on it, waiting for you to take it. As your hand met the envelope, he did the fucking worst thing he could possibly do in this moment, and took your hand. Your heart was racing and you felt wildly uncomfortable. He held your hand, taking a step into your space, body crowding yours against the counter. You stared him down, please just let me go. Please just fucking let me go. “How’s my son treating you?” He asked. What exactly did he think you were doing for his son?
“Fine.” You swallowed harshly. Please just let me go. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, face coming closer to yours.
“If you ever need anything…” Closer and closer. You wished you could pull back completely, get out of this situation, but the vice grip he currently had on your hand was making it difficult.
“Y/N.” Your eyes snapped over to the doorway, Ransom. His jaw was clenched, face flushed from what you were sure was an argument with Harlan. “We’re leaving.” Richard turned and smiled at his son, releasing your hand. You quietly slipped the envelope into your jeans pocket, backing yourself away from him, and joining Ransom across the room where his eyes hadn’t yet left his father. It wasn’t until you made it to the front door, grabbing your coat from the coat rack did he stomp his way out of the house, digging his car keys from his pockets.
“Ransom I don’t think you should be driving-” You started, but he turned to you, eyes wild. This scared you.
“Get in the car.” He demanded. Fuck, he’s drunk.
“Ransom you’re drunk, you can’t drive right now.” His eyes looked behind you and you turned to look at his family, peeking out through the curtains to watch the show. He quickly grabbed your arm, tugging you to the passenger seat, wrenching the door open and shoving you in, slamming the door behind you to circle around to the drivers side. “Just let me drive.” You pleaded. He slammed his own car door, revving the engine and quickly whipping the car out of the driveway.
He wasn’t saying anything and Ransom always had something to say.
“Ransom-”
“Shut the fuck up.” His knuckles were white against the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead as he began gaining speed.
60 mph,
65 mph,
70…
“Slow down!” He was scaring you, these roads were winding and dark, his high beams only did so much and you weren’t sure how many deer you’d be seeing tonight. His foot was heavy on the accelerator.
75
80
85
“Ransom please!” You cried. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were moving wildly left to right as he moved the wheel to turn.
90
95
100
You were going to die. This was it, this was the end. The car hit the open road, the interstate, and to the left of the on ramp you had just flew through was a cop. Their lights started flashing, red and blue filling the car as Ransom kept accelerating. It wasn’t late at night, probably around nine or so. There were other cars here as Ransom kept gaining speed, swerving in and out of traffic. “You’ve got to pull over!” You yelled at him.
105
110
115
“Ransom for the love of god, fucking stop!” His eyes looked in the rearview, two cops now. It was then he began to slow down, moving over to the side of the road, your heart still racing in your chest. You relax your fingers which you didn’t even realize was gripping Ransom’s bicep in a steel grip. Both of you breathing heavily inside the car. It wasn’t until the cop heavily banged on the window that either of you even moved.
“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.” A bright flashlight in your face as you dug around for his registration and insurance in the glove box. Exiting the car and circling to the trunk as Ransom was handing the four cops bills from his money clip. Why the fuck did Ransom have a money clip full of hundreds? Ransom’s eyes met yours as he stuffed his money clip back in his coat pocket before tossing you the keys which you caught awkwardly.
“Take me home.”
You looked over at the cops who were getting back in their squad cars before quietly getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. Your heart was still pounding and as the adrenaline began wearing off you suddenly grew very tired.
“Drive.” You didn’t want to hear his voice. You never wanted to see his face again. You never even wanted to hear his name again.
“You’re the fucking worst.” You could feel yourself crying. That was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had in your life.
“Well you’re fucking my father so,” He sunk down in his seat. “I think I have some competition.”
“I’m not fucking your father!” You exclaimed, hand hitting the steering wheel. You hear him scoff from the passenger seat.
“Not today since I walked in on you. Which is funny, you put on this whole show about not wanting to be around my family and what was it all for? A fucking ploy so I didn’t know.” Ransom didn’t fucking know how much of a goddamn idiot he was being right now.
As the gravel crunched beneath the tires of the beamer, your argument continued. “I’m not fucking your father, I’ve never fucked your father, and I never will fuck your father.” He wasn’t hearing you.
“Is this why Linda pays you so much?” He scoffed, exiting the car. He looked at you from over the roof and continued, “So you keep Richard out of her bed?” You hadn’t stopped crying. Still half going from fear and the other half from frustration. It was so goddamn cold out that the tears were freezing against your cheeks.
“Ransom, I am not fucking your father!” You yelled, “The reason she pays me what she does is because the exact fucking thing you’re doing right now.” He rolled his eyes, walking up to the front door of his house,
“Give me my keys.”
“No.” You were still standing by the car, keys fisted in your hand. “You’re being a fucking asshole right now.”
He clenched his fist, slamming it into the front door before turning back to you and yelling, “Give me my fucking keys Y/N.” You both looked at one another for a moment.
You took a deep breath. “I have nothing to do with your father Ransom. My only job is to wait on you like a fucking servant and that is what I get paid to do. Not be your fucking punching bag when your family turns out to be a bunch of dicks-”
“Give me-”
“I’m not finished!” You screamed. Tears were still streaming heavily down your face and Ransom stood five feet away from you awkwardly letting you continue. “I don’t deserve this Ransom. I really fucking don’t. You literally almost just fucking killed me. So you’re going to say you’re sorry, you’re going to go into your fucking house, you’re going to give me what you promised me for even having to deal with this shit tonight, and you’re going to give me the rest of the week off.”
It was silent for a moment. The two of you standing in the cold Massachusetts air in silence. Your face was starting to burn and as the silence stretched on you began to doubt everything you just said. Fuck this could cost you the job. The envelope Richard had handed you weighed heavily in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to hold you over until you could get back to the temp agency.
Ransom let out a breath he had been holding, turning fully to you, and walking down the two steps of his porch. You flinched back away from him, looking at his knuckles that were split and bleeding from punching the door. His eyes met yours and he looked like he was debating something.
“I’m sorry.” His words were soft and whispered, hand coming forward with an open palm, waiting for his keys. You gently gave them back to him. That soft, whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ stunned you. You didn’t expect your yelling to actually work. You expected to be fired. His keys jingled as he reached in his pocket and brought that money clip back out, extracting a bundle of hundreds and holding them out to you between two fingers. “Go home.”
That was never spoken of again. The thing with Richard in the kitchen, being pulled over on 95, the screaming match that ensued, and nothing was ever said about the solid gold, $6,500 cartier bracelet that was by no doubt wrapped at the store that was waiting for you when you arrived back at work five days later.
2019
“What did he do?” You were sweating. It was so fucking hot in here, but you were afraid to take off your coat. The fanfare in which the detectives had pulled up to your apartment complex was embarrassing, quickly bringing you down to the police station and shoving you in an interrogation room.
“What did who do?” The man who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Elliot asked you. Shit. What the fuck did Ransom do? The death of Harlan Thrombey was sudden, right after his birthday just two weeks ago. It was unsettling, the suicide. The funeral was uncomfortable to say the least. Ransom told you to go and then didn’t go himself so you stood there like some weird interloper on the tails of everyone’s grief.
You were going to throw up, you’ve never so much as gotten a speeding ticket but suddenly you had a kilo of coke on you and an unlicensed gun. “Where were you the night Harlan Thrombey committed suicide?” You picked at your fingernails.
“I was at the party,” Your throat was so dry, you were afraid to touch the glass of water they had set before you, “I always feel strange around the family so unless Ransom needs me I try to hide out in the kitchen.”
“You’re his assistant?” Elliot asked, “He doesn’t have a job, so what exactly do you assist with?”
“I’m pretty much his babysitter.” You explained, “I make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble…” It’s ironic right? You bit your bottom lip. “Why am I here exactly?” The other man in the room, Wagner, spoke up,
“Hugh Drysdale has been arrested in the murder of Harlan Thrombey’s housekeeper.” Elliot gave him a dirty look.
“Fran’s dead?” The shock was evident on your face. You leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, discarding your coat and scarf and taking a large mouthful of water.
“You seemed surprisingly absent from Hugh’s side throughout the aftermath of Harlan’s suicide, why is that?” The third man spoke up from his spot sitting in the corner of the room, the thick southern accent was almost comical.
“Ransom gave me time off,” You recalled, voice trailing off as you finish your sentence, “He said I could go to my sister’s cello recital…” Did he really kill her? “Why would he kill Fran?” It made no sense. “I mean, he’s an asshole, but murder?”
They played a recording. Ransom in his own, self-righteous, pompous voice. Fuck me. What a fucking idiot. “So tell us where you were on the dates in question, spare no details.”
You had thought it strange, Ransom had left you stranded at the Thrombey house and you were forced to find your own way back to his house to get your car. It wasn’t at all strange that when you got to his house his car wasn’t there. You’d just assumed he’d gone out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go out after finding arguments with his family. But the next day when he suggested that you take the week off, spend time with your sister, go to that recital you didn’t know he knew about, you checked his forehead with your wrist.
“Are you sick?” You had asked. He gently pushed your wrist off of his forehead, giving you a terse look.
“Harlan committed suicide last night, the funeral is tomorrow, but after that you should take some time. I need some time.” Your heart broke a bit. Yeah Ransom and Harlan butt heads all the time, but they were practically the same person so it made sense to you that they would fight. Both prideful assholes.
“I’m so sorry Ransom.” Should you hug him? You didn’t know. You two didn’t have any physical contact really. You’d never seen him hug anyone. So no, no hugs. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You opted to just gently lay your hand on his wrist. His eyes met yours for a moment, silence.
“Just come to the funeral.” With that he stood up and walked away.
That’s why it was so off-putting when the bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral and as you stood there with his sobbing family you figured next time you saw him you were going to spit in his coffee.
“I haven’t seen him since the day before the funeral.” You admitted to the officers. “He asked me to go, and didn’t even show up.”
“If we have any other questions we’ll let you know.” And you were released from questioning, but you had so many questions yourself. Arson? Fran? He attempted to murder Marta. Was this worth it? The fucking asshole never had to work for anything in his life, and even now as you stood in the courtroom waiting to see what bail would be set as so you could relay to Linda, you wanted to smack his pretty little face for being such a fucking idiot.
A bailiff read out the case number and in walked Ransom. You’d never seen him in any outfit that cost less than your rent and here the bastard was, walking in with a black and white striped jumpsuit, the county jail logo stamped in red on the back. You were the only person that showed up for him. Linda was half waiting for you to text her a dollar amount so she could pay his bail, the other half of her was debating on whether to leave him there or not. At least, that’s what she told you anyway.
You could only imagine what you looked like to him. Your eyes were puffy and red from just crying in the parking lot for an hour in between getting questioned and coming to his hearing. Before that the detectives had taken you practically from your bed. But you were here, in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, coat pulled over the ratty thing, and snow boots on your feet. It started snowing this morning.
His eyes caught yours as soon as he entered, but he quickly looked away. It was like a goddamn movie, his wrists cuffed to his waist, a chain leading down to the cuffs around his ankles.
Ransom Drysdale murdered someone.
A chill went down your spine, “Bail set at a million dollars.” And a gavel. Cameras clicking behind you. Thirty minutes later you were waiting for his release. You handed a dry cleaning bag with clothes to the officer at the front desk.
Ransom Drysdale murdered someone.
It wasn’t long before the secure, thick, metal door behind the metal detectors opened and Ransom was walking through it back to you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, quickly circling to the desk to get his phone, wallet, and keys back. The garment bag was shoved back in your hands containing the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested, and then he was out the doors of the county jail, speed walking to your car. His was taken in as evidence.
You used your key fob to unlock the car, Ransom wordlessly climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him as you settled in the driver’s. This was uncomfortable. You drove in silence for a minute, awkwardly leaning over to turn on the radio. The song only played for a second before Ransom leaned over, smacking the button to turn it off again.
“Just say it.” He spat out at you. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“Say what, Ransom?” You were scared of him now and he could tell. He breathed harshly through his nose. You could feel his eyes on you.
“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? Why I did it? Yell at me for being a fucking idiot?” He threw his hands up in frustration. There was a beat of silence more, “Say something.”
“I don’t know what to say!” You really didn’t. What do you even say? You’ve been cursing him for a while. In your head. Cursing him since you left the interrogation earlier. You didn’t know what any of this meant for your job, if you’ll be able to keep your sister in school, if you’ll be able to even afford the apartment you two live in right now. And all because Ransom wasn’t getting anymore fucking money from his Grandfather the fucking prick.
“Anything. Fucking say…” He leaned over in his seat, growing close to you. “Are you scared of me?” He smirked. Not in his, I’m playing with you and getting my way, smirk. And not in his, I’m making you weirdly uncomfortable and it really gets me off, smirk. But some sick sinister type of smirk that made your stomach roll.
“You fucking murdered someone Ransom.” You said between clenched teeth. He studied you for a minute before settling back in his seat. Silence took over until you made it to the front door of his house. Lawyers should be coming by in about an hour to start working on his case, his parents should be here soon as well seeing as they were backing all of this.
“You think I would hurt you?” Ransom asked as he stripped himself of his coat, purposefully letting it fall to the floor just so you’d have to pick it up. You left it there. He turned to look at you, still in the doorway of his house. “I killed Fran because I had to.” He spat. “It was for the bigger fucking picture. You want to be paid don’t you? You like having money right?”
“Your Mom pays me Ransom.” You stated calmly. His voice was escalating in volume as he continued.
“So fucking what? Who bought you that fucking coat, huh?” He was talking about the expensive wool coat you are currently wearing. He bought it for you after seeing that your old bubble coat had stuffing pouring out of the right pocket. You didn’t ask for it. “Who pays for your fucking phone, huh?” You had a month-by-month plan before. Ransom gifted you and your sister iphones sometime in the spring, saying that he needed to be able to reach you without having every call get dropped due to bad reception. Your sister’s was just because they were buy-one-get-one, or so he said. You didn’t ask for it. “And that fucking bracelet on your wrist too? Is my Mom buying you jewelry? Or just me and my fucking Dad?” He was still under the impression that something had gone on between you and his father apparently.
“That’s it! I’m done.” You yelled back at him. “I fucking quit.” You stripped the coat off your shoulders and tossed it on the floor beside his watching his mouth snap shut. You wiggled the bracelet off your wrist and threw that down on top of it before slipping your phone out of the side pocket of your yoga pants and throwing that on the pile. “I’ll mail Julia’s phone back to you.” You still hadn’t stepped foot inside the house, turning to walk back to your car when Ransom’s thundering footsteps could be heard behind you.
Fuck he was going to kill you.
It had continued to snow throughout the morning, the soft white stuff still falling heavily from the sky as you rushed to your car, you had to get away. You didn’t make it far before Ransom’s arms wrapped around your body from behind, tugging you tightly to his chest. You let out a loud scream before he covered your mouth with his hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered quickly into your ear. “Please stop, I’m sorry.” His large body was bent over your back as you were crouched over trying to get him to release you, both of you breathing heavily as you settled against him. “Y/N I’m sorry.” He slowly started walking the two of you back toward the house, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He shouted as you tried to bite his hand. He uncovered your mouth, arms loosening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” He repeated a little more calmly.
He brought you back into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. You wanted to leave, eyes tearing up. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Ransom stood for a moment with his back against the door before peeling the wet socks off of his feet. You hadn’t realized that he took his shoes off when he originally came in. His feet were bright red from the cold. You glanced to your left at the knife block there, slowly backing away.
“No, no, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sunk down to his knees. He looked like a fucking idiot, face flushed from the cold, kneeling in front of the door. He slowly made his way over to you, not rising from his knees, shuffling forward with his hands open and facing you. Your heart was racing as he stopped at your feet, slowly moving his arms to wrap around your waist, burying his face in your ratty old college sweatshirt.
He was hugging you. Actually hugging you, on his knees, face turned into your belly. You could have sworn he whispered, “Please don’t go.” But you couldn’t be sure.
A pot of coffee was made, coats picked up, and floor mopped before the lawyers and his parents arrived. The only evidence of your earlier fight was the absence of the cartier bracelet you refused to put back on. It sat heavily in Ransom’s pants pocket. Their discussion was loud in the living room and no one looked up as you lay the coffee and finger foods on the coffee table, Ransom’s cup unmade for him out of spite. As you turned to make your way back to the kitchen, Richard’s hand shot out to grab you harm, halting your movements,
“Grab me some Macallan for me, would you sweetheart?” Your eyes flit over to Ransom, who’s jaw twitched, sharing a look with you before looking back to his lawyers and mother.
This was none of your business, but you needed to know what your future was going to look like. Were you out of a job? If Ransom went to prison there would be no one to babysit. So yeah, you would be. He admitted on tape to arson and murder. Pre-meditated arson was minimum of 10 years, Murder was 30 years. He’s looking at at least 40 years in prison. He would be an old man before he was even allowed parole.
The group grew silent, or you couldn’t hear them as you started dinner for that evening. You were sure the four of them would be staying. “Y’N, would you come here please?” That was Linda.
You made your way over to the group, shuffling nervously in your wool socks. “Yes Mrs. Drysdale?” Linda smiled,
“It’s back to Thrombey now, but that’s another issue.” Hmmm. “If I was willing to pay you…. Say four times what you’re making now, would you take Ransom’s house arrest? That is, if we are able to work the judge down to that.”
“House arrest?” You looked to Ransom confused, he wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Murder and Arson-”
“The only proof they have is the recording, the only thing they’re going to be able to pin on Mr. Drysdale here would be the attempted murder of the nurse.” A chill went down your spine,
“You tried to kill Marta too?” You asked Ransom, incredulously. He didn’t respond, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. His lawyers made you uncomfortable, they were definitely sleazy and you knew money could get you far in the justice system. If that recording was 75% of the evidence against Ransom and it was suddenly and accidentally destroyed, they would only have what was actually witnessed.
“Well, would you?” Linda asked again.
“I uhm… I have a sister who lives with me, I can’t just-”
“I’m sure there’s someone else who can take care of her. How long would it be for?” She looked to the lawyers, “Two or three years?” This was impossible. You couldn’t. Linda looked back at you. “How about this…” She leaned over and clasped your hands softly. “We will pay for your sister’s school, her housing, everything she needs while you’re doing this for us, and you’ll still get paid what I originally offered.”
“If Ransom gets house arrest?” You asked.
“Yes ‘if’.” She was selling it hard. Julia could stay with your aunt. She didn’t live far from where the two of you currently reside. The majority of your income went to her school, books, clothes, rent, and groceries. Having all of that taken care of would mean you’d be getting four times your current salary and not having to spend any of it. Just for a couple years.
“If Ransom gets house arrest,” you looked over at him, his eyes briefly meeting yours, studying you it felt like, “If he does, I will do what you need me to do. But I don’t even know how-” Linda’s hands quickly released yours.
“We will figure that out when the time comes,” Linda has a shit eating grin on her face, “Write up a contract.” Directed at the lawyers, “Now, how are we going to get our hands on that recording?” That’s it. You were dismissed until they needed you again.
“Why would you do that?” Ransom asked you. Everyone had left a little bit ago, you were busy washing the dishes, knowing as soon as this task was finished you’d be able to go home and this day from hell would be over.
“Do what?” There was a piece of cheese melted on the side of the casserole dish that wouldn’t fucking come off.
“Agree to take my punishment?” You paused in your scrubbing,
“That’s if they actually settle on house arrest.” You finally unwedged the cheese, rinsing off the casserole dish and placing it in the dishwasher.
“Hmpf.” Ransom had been cold and distant since he burrowed his head into your belly. Has to make up for his extreme weakness then. “But why?” He asked again.
You turned to him, eyes staring directly into his. You watched him fiddling with the gold bracelet you had taken off earlier, it was in his hand down by his side. “It’s what you said earlier right?” You scoffed, removing the rubber gloves from your hands and throwing them in the sink. You walked closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Because I need the fucking money.”
The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Usually there was texting here and there, ‘Where are my grey socks, the ones I usually wear with the navy Ralph Lauren slacks?’ or ‘Next week when you meal prep for my weekend can you make me this?’ with a link to a recipe. ‘Pick me up a pack of magnums on your way in.’ Fuck you.
You got him regular Trojans.
Monday was Christmas luckily enough, and you knew you weren’t going in. Ransom didn’t even text you to see where you were. His account was rapidly depleting funds, you checked every once in a while.
234.72 ETRN-STD
523.50 DRNK
435.62 HAWTHNE
The list went on. Multiple spots a day over the weekend. That’s who he was going to be now, the old fucking white dude who sits at a bar all day hitting on girls uncomfortably too young. How many giggling 18 year olds would you kick out crying and screaming the next day? Disgusting.
“Do you have them?” Them meaning the cookies that were currently at the bottom of your reusable Aldi bag. Your sister, Julia, was off to your right, setting a pot with water on the stove to boil. It was Christmas, just the two of you, and with the aftermath of everything that was going on with the Thrombey/Drysdale clan, you were happy to get some time off to relax. You might even push it so that you wouldn’t have to work tomorrow. We’ll see if Ransom texts you.
“Of course I do.” This bag has been in your closet all weekend. There’s a bakery near your apartment that your Mom would take you to all the time, every time you got an A, won a game, gotten an award. Everything they made reminded you of her, and it was something you craved more than anything. Every Christmas they would make these fresh baked cookie packs with all kinds, chocolate chip, double chocolate chunk, snicker doodle, gingerbread, white chocolate macadamia, chocolate and peanut butter.
Every Christmas, after dinner, you and your sister would slouch in front of the TV with scalding hot cups of hot chocolate and devour almost the whole box. Every year except last year when at the time your sister was home alone watching The Grinch you were in a car with Ransom going over a hundred miles an hour and scared for your life. This Christmas, Ransom would not be getting between the two of you, food was cooking, lights in the living room were dimmed. The tree was all lit up and the presents you had exchanged earlier that morning sat unwrapped beneath it.
Christmas music was playing softly on the tv as you heard someone knock on your front door.
“Coming!” You yelled. It wasn’t uncommon for a neighbor to have forgotten something, sugar, butter, milk, that they needed for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon for you to answer your door without looking through the peephole. What was uncommon was Ransom Drysdale standing sheepishly on the other side. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were red. The cheeks and nose from the cold, the eyes probably from the alcohol you could smell on him. You sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on, “What are you doing here?”
“Bar called me an uber and I didn’t want to go home.” He explained quickly, words slurring slightly.
“Your parents-”
“Fuck my parents!” He yelled, you quickly shushed him, looking down the halls to see if anyone was peeking out into the hallway. “Fuck my parents.” He said quietly.
“Ransom…” You sighed, stepping out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. “What do you want?” His eyes were glazed, he shrugged dumbly, swaying forward. “Okay big guy,” I guess this is happening, “Come on.” You quietly ushered him inside, shutting the door softly behind you.
“Who is it? Oh, woah.” Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, shifting over to you. ‘Murderer’ she mouthed.
“Go set the table.” You ushered Ransom over to the small table that could barely seat the two of you let alone a third, quickly brewing a pot of coffee and keeping an eye on your sister who was scared to get to close to him. “He’s harmless Julia.” You reassured her, or were you reassuring yourself so that you didn’t feel like such a bad guardian, letting a murderer into your home. He was past angry drunk Ransom, which is probably why the bar kicked him out, he was sad Ransom right now. You’d never seen him cry but this was probably the closest you were going to get to it. He was quiet, sat in the chair just staring as you and your sister finished dinner.
You poured him a cup of coffee and a glass of water, hoping to sober him up enough that you could safely send him home later on. The three of you sat down to eat. Ransom staring listlessly out the window. You made him a plate and told him to eat. And he did. You told him to finish his water. And he did. You told him to finish his coffee. And he did. This was almost terrifying. He hadn’t said anything since ‘fuck my parents’, and he looked dead on his feet.
“Send him home,” Your sister pleaded. The man hadn’t moved. Cleanup had already started and finished, he was still nursing the third glass of water you’d given him. Cookies were warming in the oven. His eyes were less glassy now. He was slowly sobering up. The large helping of mashed potatoes and three bread rolls he ate didn’t hurt either.
“He’s my boss, I can’t really kick him out.” You explained, “Let me get him sober enough that I know he’s okay and then he’ll go home.” She rolled her eyes at you, stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, adding more chunks of chocolate to melt. Ransom, still unspeaking, didn’t protest when you moved him into the living room, setting him up in the recliner with his own cup of hot chocolate and three cookies, before snuggling down with your sister and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You moved only once when he tapped the mug against your arm.
More.
“I’ve never done anything.” He said. “Never went to college, barely graduated high school.” He was rambling to himself, maybe to you? “I’ve spent the entirety of my adult years inside someone’s cunt.”
“Alright, Julia. Time for bed.” You ignored her whining protests. The movie wasn’t over yet. “Please?” You begged her. She hated Ransom. You knew this. She knows you know this. ‘All he does is take you from me.’ is what she once said to you. Just to treat you like shit.
“I have no money.” Ransom’s eyes met yours. “None.”
“I know Ransom.” He scoffed.
“I’m no better off than you now.”
“You still have your house. I’d say you are still better off.” You started cleaning up around him, letting the asshole sit in his self-pity.
“C’mere.” It was a quiet request. The Grinch was packing up his sleigh in the background. You dropped the two mugs you were holding onto the counter, circling back to the recliner. Ransom’s hand came out soft, wrapping around your forearm and gently guiding you to sit in his lap.
“Ransom, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You tried to pull away, heartbeat beginning to pick up. His still bloodshot eyes raised to meet yours.
“Please hold me.” Fuck. What were you supposed to do with that? Heart melting you sunk into his lap, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight. It was quiet for a while. Sitting with the credits rolling, Ransom’s arms wrapped around your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. Comforting him from whatever crisis he was currently going through.
“Marta ruined everything” He whispered into your neck.
“No Ransom, you did.”
2020
The trial, fuck me, the trial. The whole fucking family showed to watch Ransom crash and burn and get exactly what he deserved. Well that and to stare down Marta Cabrera who sat with the prosecution in some shiny new digs, a stunning gold cartier bracelet on her wrist. That was familiar. Ransom’s cheap bought apology. There was a tension there, you knew. He always had a thing for ‘the help’. You wondered if that’s where he had been this past week. But it’s strange isn’t it? This whole situation. It was unsettling and for some reason you felt irreversibly used.
“I knew the knife was a prop.” And that was that. Audio recording gone, attempted murder charge whittled down to aggravated assault. A slap on the wrist. Two years of house arrest. And here you were, in Ransom’s home with a fucking house arrest bracelet making your ankle itch. Unfucking believable. Ransom had sat in the courtroom, head raised, armani suit, legs crossed and body relaxed. He knew he was getting out of this from the minute he walked in.
The Thrombey trial that was supposedly going to last three months only lasted a week. You still had a job, and in a remarkable turn of events Linda Drysdale and their legal team got exactly what they predicted.
“I’m going out.” Was the first thing Ransom told you as you unpacked your clothes. He had half thought to buy you a bed and a small dresser that he haphazardly got someone to shove between his Pam Anderson Baywatch poster and the unplugged Space Invaders original arcade console. This was a 90s teenage boy’s dream bedroom. And now it was yours. He didn’t give you much time to respond and he was gone.
They say that you never really know someone until you live with them. And you’ve never felt that saying more true. Ransom was a fucking asshole.
During your previous employment schedule you would come in at 9 am with breakfast and let him know of anything he needed to do that day, if his Mom needed him for whatever reason, events his was scheduled to go to, dates he promised he’d keep. He’d let you know what to cancel and what he would get ready for, and then you were off. Cleaning and maintaining the home to the best of your ability, binge watching tv shows, trying new recipes from pinterest.
Ransom was disgusting.
Clothes discarded all over his floor, bedroom, living room, hallways. Beard trimmings all over the sink and what you would hopefully assume were more beard trimmings lining the bottom of his shower. You really didn’t want to think about Ransom’s pubic hair situation. He would do things like take his coffee mugs into his room or into the study and leave like a sip left in each one, letting it sit there until the milk began to curdle. Wet towels shoved into corners and every morning when you went in to make his bed it was like he was running in his sleep, loose and fitted scrunched in the corner of the foot board, duvet thrown off and pillows with half off shams.
He was doing this shit on purpose.
And you hated him for it.
It wasn’t long after the trial that he began a steady routine. Gym, breakfast, some puttering around the house, making plans and then he would go out. And that’s when we come to this,
“He said he would be back and we would have breakfast together.” The girl was pretty, but her voice was annoying.
“I’m one hundred percent sure he did not say that.” You stood with arms crossed in the doorway, watching her fix her face in the mirror propped against his bedroom wall. An old antique thing that didn’t match with the decor of the house at all.
“Hmpf.” She glared at you, “Fine, when he gets back, we’ll see who is right.” This was before you became practiced at this kind of thing.
You felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans,
Is she gone yet?
Fucking prick.
“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” You explained, “He has a lot to do today, I’m sure if he said you’ll go out for breakfast it’ll probably be another day.”
“I said.” She stepped up to you, “I’m staying.” Fuck. You rolled your eyes and walked past her into the room,
Not leaving, come deal with her yourself
He had been waiting down the street like a psycho, waiting to see her leave so he can come back home, but it’s not really working out in his favor. You could feel her eyes on you as you made the bed and picked his laundry up from the floor, tossing them two feet away into the laundry basket you left in his bathroom in hopes he would actually use it. The socks left discarded beside it was a clear message of disregard, a ‘fuck you’ from a petulant child.
You could hear the door slam downstairs. Great, you looked at the girl who was scrolling through her phone curled up in the reading chair in the corner of his room, he’s pissed. You could hear his stomping feet climb the stairs and the girl looked up from her phone hopeful towards the door.
“Alright, time to go.” He huffed, coming into view. The girl stood from the chair, shifting over towards him and trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “Nope. Let’s go, your uber is here.”
“But, I-” She began, you could see tears welling up in her eyes and you began to feel bad for her.
You were never one to have one night stands. You had one serious boyfriend when you were in college, but when your Mom got sick you had ended it and moved back home. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone else since. You just didn’t have the time. That being said, this girl honestly thought Ransom had a heart. She was naive and young, younger than you. Your heart hurt for her, but honestly, no one should be with Ransom anyway.
His birthday dinner had soon come and gone. Linda and Richard sat around the dinner table eating Ransom’s favorite foods you’d spent the day cooking for him. Drinking whiskey and wine, Ransom’s glass never empty. You’d had a few glasses yourself with the tapas style dinner you’d put together. A beautifully iced spice cake sitting on the counter with unlit candles for dessert.
This was the night that Ransom blew up on you for the last time. The night he cried into your neck, drunk and unstable. Clutching desperately at your body for comfort, burying himself against you all touch starved and needy. This was more intense than last Christmas where his dry eyed stare begged you to hold him in an uncommon moment of weakness.
He was so hard to read sometimes and you were never quite sure where you stood. You knew you really hated him sometimes, other times… not so much. The more you knew his parents, the more you understood why Ransom was an ungrateful shit to begin with. You almost couldn’t blame him for how he turned out.
Almost.
“Help me with this.” He stood in the doorway to the small office he never used. It was pretty much just for show. A large wooden ornate desk, his macbook, and a bookshelf full of books you know he probably never read. Including the ones penned by his own Grandfather.
There were beginnings here. Multi-colored post its lined the desk, laptop left on the seat of one of the chairs in the room.
“What is this?” You asked him, fingers plucking a post-it from the desk,
Crime of Passion?
He had been watching a lot of true crime documentaries lately. It didn’t help but creep you out. This man, a murderer, suddenly extremely into serial killers and murder itself.
“I’m going to write a book.” He explained. His face was in a grin, almost giddy.
“A book.” You looked at him incredulously. Your eyes drifted over to Harlan’s novels sitting stacked on another chair, spines finally cracked and pages thumbed through, sticky tabs stuck throughout the pages. You pointed to them, “A book?”
“Yeah,” He gestured around to the post-its, “What do you think?” It’ll keep him busy that’s for sure. You sighed, sticking the post-it back on the desk and looked at him. He was waiting, expectantly, why did he care what you thought about this?
“Is it gonna be about Fran?” You asked awkwardly, he scoffed,
“No, I’m gonna write books like my Grandfather wrote,” He plucked a post-it from the desk, showing you,
Wife murders husband?
“I’m gonna write a mystery novel.”
He was good. You couldn’t lie about that. And you wouldn’t. This was a strange thing. The routine changed. Gym, breakfast, writing, lunch, writing, dinner, and then he would go out. His mind was moving faster than his fingers could and you were left reading a new chapter or two every night. You’d once loved Harlan’s novels. Your Mother was obsessed with them. It was partially why you had even taken the job tutoring Meg in the first place, but you know what they say. Never meet your heroes.
Harlan was kind in some ways, funny, but proud. His pride is what eventually killed him you’ve found out. The medicine Ransom had switched wasn’t his cause of death, his refusal for help was.
Ransom was as good as he was, better even.
“He’s got a lot of me in him,” Harlan said to you once, “He could have everything I’ve ever had if he would pull his head out of his ass.”
This was promising.
You were honestly afraid when Ransom first said he would be writing a novel. What if he wasn’t a good writer? Could you really lie and try to support him even though it was absolute garbage? You supposed you would have to. You were relieved to find out that it was unnecessary.
He slipped a red pen into your hand when handing you this last chapter, the book almost finished. “I want to see how you react to everything,” He explained, the book was coming to the climax, you were a chapter away from the big reveal and the aftermath, his hands gently massaged your shoulders before he bent at the waist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sat on the sofa. “Do you like it?” His hot breath brushed against your ear, a tingle went down your spine.
“Ransom,” Your hand came up to lay over his forearm, brushing the skin with your thumb, “It’s amazing.” You could almost feel the grin that stretched across his face, he turned, pressing his face into your hair where you could swear he laid a soft kiss before releasing you.
“Of course it is,” Here we go, “I’m a fucking Thrombey.” His fucking smirk. That's what he left you with, returning to his office to pound out the last two chapters.
It was a process. The editing, printing, shipping off to multiple publishers. He got replies after a month.
Eager replies.
Whatever Ransom wanted, Ransom got. The lucky bastard stayed lucky.
“Look Babe.” Ransom dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you, “Look at this shit.” He grabs a knife from the block on the counter, slipping it under the packing tape to open the box revealing glossy black covers. He first fucking novel. There. Printed. A picture of a fireplace, chair facing it, empty. A blood soaked carpet. He picked one from the box, opening it. And there in the forward, the dedication, Harlan’s name…
...and yours.
“Don’t get all big headed about it kid.” He smirked. Your heart was racing in your chest.
“Why would you…” Your fingers gently traced the letters of your name, there in print, as it would be on every copy sold.
“Wouldn’t have been able to write it without you being chained to my house, only seems fair.” He shrugged. “We can call it even.” You scoffed,
“Dedicating your book to me hardly makes my doing your house arrest for you even Ransom.” He smirked again, flipping through the pages, seeing his words in bold print.
“I think it’s plenty fair,” Okay, now you wanted to smack him, “You live here for free, you eat here for free, and you get paid pretty well to do so.” His devilish eyes met yours over the top of the book he was still thumbing through. “If anything you’re still ahead because you’re the kept woman of a bestselling author.”
“A kept woman?” You dropped the book onto the table. “I’m not your fucking whore Ransom.”
“Not yet.” Audibly you made noise of protest, internally your core thrummed with heat.
“Never.” You packed up your tablet and the new book, attempting to walk around him to go sit out by the fire pit for a while. His large hand gently grabbed your upper arm, tugging you into his body, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your arms trapped between you.
“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly soft, heartbreaking.
“I am proud of you Ransom.” You shifted your belongings to your left hand, tugging your right from against his chest to wrap around his torso. “I’m very proud of you.”
Book published, royalties rolling in, Ransom was making his own money now. He was more cocky than ever. Proud. The, I-don’t-need-you-anymore-mom, attitude. But can you still pay my babysitter? The girls came more easily than ever before, not that they didn’t come easy before the bestseller.
Every. Night.
Sometimes two girls were leaving in the morning, gently ushered out the door with promises of a phone call and a, “I’ll let him know.” It made you feel dirty, betraying almost. Like you were supposed to be on these girl’s side instead of cleaning up after Ransom’s mess.
You could gag. The milky condoms, two of them, tossed haphazardly aside on the hardwood floor of Ransom’s bedroom. Disgusting. You could hear him laughing at you now.
“It could be you,” He says, “Just say the word.” If you weren’t so irritated with Ransom for this very thing your panties would be dripping with the thought.
He’s sitting at the kitchen island forking soft scrambled eggs into his mouth, cheesy with peppers and onions, the way he likes them, the way you made them, when you come downstairs. “You could at least throw the condoms in the fucking trash Ransom.” He looked up from his eggs to you, peeling off the latex gloves you’d just used, smirking.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Asshole.
“You’re disgusting.” You begin on the dishes, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. You hear the stool scoot back against the floor, “That wasn’t an invitation.” You said, hearing his approach. His arms wrapped around your middle as you began to scrub. His head rested on your shoulder.
“You love me.” He slowly rocked your body side to side, “You love how disgusting I am.” You tried to shrug him off of you, but he held you tighter. Since last Christmas when you curled up in his lap and held him for two hours until he was sober enough to leave you he’d been slowly getting more and more affectionate with you. He was touch starved, hungry for it. The intimacy of holding and being held.
You didn’t picture Linda as much of a hugger.
The house was decorated. It was the least he could do for you really. This was the first Christmas since your Mother died that you and your sister wouldn’t be completing your tradition, but you tried not to think about it. Ransom humored you just after Thanksgiving, bringing home a fake Christmas tree, ornaments and lights. You’d ordered a couple of extras online and three stockings were on the mantle, Christmas lights lined the windows giving the house a warm glow.
“I’m sending everyone in my family a copy.” He told you, “a signed copy.” Of his book. Rubbing their noses in it. The book has firmly held the number one spot on the New York Times Bestseller List for weeks. Already over a million copies have been sold. Whether its due to the fame of the not-murder trial or Harlan’s legacy you couldn’t be sure, but even without those things the book was incredibly good.
Ransom could have made it on his own, a long time ago.
“You don’t think that’s a little crass?” He released you long enough for you to finish loading the dishwasher, watching you place the pod of soap and shut it like he didn’t realize that’s actually what you’re supposed to do.
“Fuck them,” He scoffed, “They’ve always hated me.”
“To be fair,” You turned to the soft sweater clad man leaning against the kitchen island, “You’re an asshole.”
He smirked, “Yeah, but that’s why I’m so charming.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
It could almost be domestic. The way things were now. So different from before. Yeah Ransom was still bringing a new girl home almost every night and sure you could hear them fuck from your bed on the other side of the wall, but for the most part it was always just the two of you.
His parents never ventured out here much anymore, since his book was published he had a deadline for the next book that needed to be completed so he wrote almost every day now, sometimes for hours. You made his every meal, on the odd occasion you’d order out. Sometimes when he needed a break he would come sit on the sofa with you as you watched whatever show you were currently obsessed with. One time you walked in on him watching Love Island by himself and you hadn’t let him live it down yet, maybe not ever.
He grew soft, sweet almost. A kiss against your palm. Hugs from behind as you worked at the stove. A snuggle of feet under his thigh as you watched Miracle on 34th Street by a crackling fire. Wordlessly anticipating each others needs. It spoke to a high level of intimacy. Something you both chose to ignore.
It was nice.
He didn’t go out on Christmas Eve. Not only because his usual bar was closing earlier than normal because of the holiday, he assured you, but because he wanted to stay in. Snow was falling thick outside, a foot of it already blanketed on the ground. To tell the truth you didn’t want him to go out in this weather anyway. You knew he was willing to drive a little drunk and he didn’t exactly obey speed limits. It was safer here.
You were still reeling from the argument you had with your sister earlier in the night. You called her to see what she was doing, but she was at a friends house and wanted nothing to do with you. Since the house arrest you haven’t exactly been on speaking terms. She wasn’t Ransom’s biggest fan and didn’t really understand why you needed to do this. You could kind of blame it on yourself for her having no idea how much money you needed to keep her in school, her cello and lessons weren’t cheap and nor are the electronics she seemed so attached to. This two year sentence you were playing out for Ransom would put you in the green, far in the green, so far in the green that you were willing to put up with all his petty bullshit and be okay with your sister hating you if it meant your futures were secure.
After all this was over, you might just be able to go back to school.
“Are you hungry?” You removed your feet from their spot beneath his thigh, grabbing both of your now empty mugs, padding over to the kitchen. Your stomach had just begun to growl. The stew you had simmering on the stove was ready to eat.
“Yeah,” Ransom replied, not turning away from the television. Santa’s trial had just began. It was a strange thing, having him watch classic Christmas movies, soft in sweats and a comical christmas sweater you jokingly bought him. “I look good in anything.” He said. He wasn’t lying.
You poured two bowls full, bringing over a plate with some crusty bread he was kind enough to go out and grab for you earlier in the day. “Thank you,” He said softly as he took the bowl from your hands, eyes still not moving from the screen. He quickly spooned some into his mouth,
“It’s hot.” You said, his only reaction being trying to rapidly cool it in his mouth, his tongue probably burned. He gave you a glare, before resting the bowl on the coffee table. This could almost be a relationship. The two of you together. In this oddly domestic moment. He was the only man in your life right now, it wasn’t like you had many options for seeking others.
That’s why you would get so hot and bothered with him. And that’s the only reason.
He had never seen A Miracle on 34th Street before. You’d think with how old fashioned Harlan was he would have at least seen it once or twice, but then again, any time spent together as a family was always strained and argumentative.
Even when he was a kid though? He was the first grandchild. His mother was the first child of Harlan. You were sure when he was a child he was spoiled rotten, more toys than he could play with, never wanting for anything. But that wasn’t exactly true. The touch starved trust-fund baby didn’t get the one thing kids need the most, more than presents, toys, electronics. Real genuine love.
His Mother loved him to an extent. It’s why you were the one on house arrest instead of him, but she thought loving him meant giving him whatever he wants. When we all know that’s not what kids want. They want to be told no, given structure, rules. How many times have you gotten into arguments with your sister because you didn’t allow her to go roam the streets at night without supervision or give her money for some stupid thing she wouldn’t be even bothered with in two weeks?
But you could also see how no one really knows how to raise a child and you just try your best. Having Harlan for a Father couldn’t have been easy.
Under the tree that you’d decorated and in the stockings you’d hung were presents. Ransom had everything he’d ever wanted, but you couldn’t help but want him to have something to open tomorrow morning. Granted it wouldn’t be much, but it’s the thought that counts. In the fridge you already have most of what will go into tomorrow’s dinner made. Hopefully your sister thinks about your extended invitation and Ransom can go pick her up at some point tomorrow. You missed her, a lot. Your heart ached with wishes that she was here right now.
Ransom’s eyes had gotten shifty. The movie was coming to an end and his bowl was empty. “Did you want more?” You asked him, thinking that would be the cause of his shiftiness, maybe indecisive?
“No.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not going to be home for dinner tomorrow.” You weren’t sure you heard that properly.
“You’re not going to be home….” You started, picking his bowl up from the coffee table and standing, “For dinner on Christmas?”
He was scared to tell you, that’s cute. Your body was bristling with anger as you took the stew off the stove to cool before you could properly store it. He didn’t move from his spot on the couch.
“My Mother wants me to go to this dinner with-”
“So every other time your Mother wants you to do something it’s ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat shit’, but when we’ve already made plans for tomorrow and my sister-” You felt tears prickle in your eyes. “What the fuck Ransom?” His face was stoic from the couch.
“Why does it matter?” He asked, “I stayed home tonight!”
“And that makes up for it?” You stood at the kitchen counter, staring across the room at him. “I already started on dinner, Ransom. You couldn’t have maybe said something while I was prepping all of this?” You gestured to the fridge. He shrugged.
“I didn’t know that was all for tomorrow.” His face still betrayed no expression.
“She can come here,” You offered, “We can have dinner here.” His eyes shifted away from yours to watch the rolling credits.
“She doesn’t want to.” He stood from the couch, rounding towards the tree slowly, searching.
“Why not?” He was being shady about this, the whole situation was strange. “I already have all of this food prepared and I can’t pick up Julia myself… Ransom?”
“She doesn’t like being around you.” He stated honestly, he picked a box out among the presents under the tree, eyes meeting yours as he fumbled with it.
“What?” You get it. She’s technically your employer. But she’s never had any issue dropping in for dinner or putting you to work on some task for herself.
“Listen,” He came closer to where you still stood, your chest tightening. “Y/N, I hate my family-”
“Then why are you going to-”
“I have to do this.” His cheeks were flushed, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My therapist… I don’t want to do this.” He slid the box across the counter top. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better about it?” You scoffed, picking up the gold wrapped box. His mouth opened and then quickly shut without speaking. You sighed heavily, a headache coming on. “I’ve got nothing, Ransom. All I wanted to do tomorrow was spend some time with my family and if you’re not going to be around…”
“I know, I can maybe go pick your sister up in the morning?” He offered. Your eyes watery, staring at him. He doesn’t get it. Your heart was aching a bit.
“You’re such an asshole.” You spat, leaving the present still wrapped in front of you, thumbing the thick wrapping paper.
“I know.” He swallowed.
“What does your therapist want you to do?” You never talked about what went on in his therapy sessions. He was too closed off after them, drank too heavily, lashed out too easily. You’d let him slowly work through his refractory period and let him cozy up to you once he was feeling better.
Ransom felt awkward, you could feel it. He was uncomfortable.
“Why does this matter so much to you?” He asked. He was turning. He got too emotional. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do or where I have to do it. I said I would go pick Julia up, I’m giving you what you want.”
“Fine.” You were staring each other down. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there to get her around noon and then you can go have dinner with the people you hate.” He rolled his eyes,
“I don’t know what you think this is, Y/N.” He scoffed, “You still work for me, we’re not playing house here.”
“Then stop making me.” You spat back at him, both of you in a similar stance, hands gripping the edge of the stone counter top.
“I’m not making you do anything.” There was a rage growing in his eyes.
“You are, Ransom. I take care of you like you’re my own fucking child. I clean up all of your messes, I cook all of your fucking food, I do everything for you.”
“I don’t ask you to.”
“You don’t have to! You literally just expect it of me.” You yelled.
“Because it’s your job.” He laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “I have no loyalty to you Y/N. None.” Fine.
Fine.
You hated him. You fucking hated him. You were doing all of this for him. And you’ve never felt more dumb in your life. The house arrest bracelet on your ankle felt heavier than ever. It itches like mad.
“Fuck you Ransom.” You rounded the counter, moving towards the stairs when he grabbed your arm.
“Take the gift.” He slapped the box into your hand.
“I don’t want the fucking gift, Hugh.” He looked taken aback for a moment.
“Don’t call me that.” His hand fell from your arm, stepping closer to you.
“That’s what you want, right?” You asked, “You want me to do all of these things for you and take care of you and fucking hold you when you need comfort but when I’m fucking trying to make things easier for you, you’re all the sudden ‘I have no loyalty to you.”
“Wait a fucking minute,” He growled, “I take care of you too. Who the fuck buys all the shit you want on a fucking whim? You’re in the mood for curry, I get you curry. You make a comment about how you really want to decorate for Christmas and who fucking gets you everything you need to do that? You say that you really want to get into fucking knitting and who gets you all the fucking shit you need to fucking knit?”
“Buying me things doesn’t mean you care about me Ransom.” You shook the box in your hand for emphasis. “All I wanted to know is what your therapist wants you to do tomorrow, you can go have dinner with your Mother. It’s fine. I just wanted you to fucking open up to me.”
“I am open with you!” He yells, “You know more about me than anyone else in my fucking life, it’s hard for me okay? I can never escape you, you’re always fucking there. I don’t get to fucking-” He placed his hands on his hips, turning from you. He let out a heavy, slow breath. Calming himself down. “I don’t want to go tomorrow, trust me Y/N, I really don’t, but I have to.” His eyes met yours, softer this time.
You felt like some part of you was being irrational. This dinner might help his growth. Whatever milestone he was reaching with his therapist, this could be really good for him. But you also felt a little selfish, you wanted him here, with you. You felt more like his family than anyone else. Or at least, he felt more like your family and he should be here to spend Christmas with his family. You knew he felt at least somewhat the same, if the gifts addressed to Julia under the tree from him were anything to go by. You wanted him here, but he wasn’t yours.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the tears that were once threatening to spill, now did. “It’s fine.” Your head was pounding. “It’s fine.”
“I know it’s not,” He said softly. “But we can maybe do presents and lunch before I go,” He gestured towards the tree. “I should be back in time for the Grinch.” You were shaking a bit as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against his body. “I’m sorry baby.” He was so warm, a little sweaty from arguing, but warm. “I’ll make it up to you.” A soft whisper into your hair.
The little gold box was soon opened, a new rose gold cartier bracelet slipped onto your wrist and Ransom left you and your sister the next day wearing the sweater you had so carefully knit for him.
2021
Your breath hitched in your throat, back arching, a loud moan breaking from your lungs. How was he so good at this? Ransom’s tongue was at work between your thighs, large hands cradling your hips, burying his face in your moist heat. You were so close to cumming. And he knew it.
“Oh god,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his face as you rode your orgasm until your body was too sensitive to continue, Ransom moving his attentions to press his lips sloppily against your thighs before making his way up your body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he lamented as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, parting your thighs fully around his hips to tease your opening with the blunt head of his cock. “So fucking beautiful.” He moaned into your open mouth as he breeches you.
He felt so fucking good. You’d never get over it, you were sure. Ransom was patient, biding his time. He wasn’t that guy who had to be as deep inside you as possible, chasing his orgasm by stabbing your cervix. Over time he mapped out the location of your g-spot, shifting his hips and cock to brush against the spot with every thrust, working you up and making your eyes roll back in your head.
Those girls screamed with good reason. Just as you did now. Gushing wet around him as you came for the second time, looking up wantonly into his flushed face, lips swollen from first kissing and then pulling you apart with his tongue. Your fingers curled in his chest hair as he picked up pace, chasing his own release now, your hips lifting off the bed to aid him.
“So fucking good baby,” His eyes screwed shut as he moans, arms trembling, “You fuck me so good baby.” He sat back on his haunches, pulling your hips roughly to his, your sensitive clit grinding against his pubic bone almost bringing you over again as he cums. Hips stuttering into yours as you feel him empty himself into you.
His head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes dropping to find you, hands still gripping your hips and as much of your ass as he can manage. “I love you.”
It never gets old.
He said those words to you ever chance he got. It was as if he was trying to make up for a lifetime without it. Love.
Early morning sleepy soft kisses, I love you.
Silent breakfast with your feet in his lap, I love you.
Scratching his back as you peered over his shoulder while he was writing, I love you.
Feet stuffed under his thigh watching Outlander and drinking hot tea, I love you.
Buried deep inside you, panting mouths a breath apart, bodies flushed and sweaty, sheets damp with cum, I love you.
“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”
It was intense. His love for you.
He tried hard. He didn’t know how it was supposed to work. A real relationship, a real honest to god loving relationship. But he was trying.
The first few months of the relationship you gained a lot of new jewelry, a new iPad, clothes, shoes. “You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me, Ransom.”
Then came flowers and lots of them. Sometimes just one, sometimes a bouquet. Regardless there were multiple vases that stayed filled throughout the house, always with fresh flowers never given time to fully wilt.
After that was the touching. Always some sort of physical contact. Whether you were cuddling on the couch or a blink away from sleep with his ankle wrapped around yours, if you were in a room together there was always some sort of contact.
Your house arrest bracelet was removed, and a gold anklet replaced it. You were free to leave, live on your own. Move out and back into that shitty apartment with your sister, but this was early days in the newfound relationship with Ransom.
He’d bought you a house.
He’s paying for your sisters school.
He’s paying you to still work for him.
It was a Victorian. The house. Not at all like his contemporary cube he knew you despised. A rich dark brown with a large porch. Much too big for just you and your sister, so 6 months after the two of you moved in, Ransom sold his house and moved in too.
Julia was warming up to him. At first she wasn’t a fan. It took a long time, many dinners with Ransom, ‘family outings’, you hoped she could see the way he treated you now. The way he’s kind of always treated you. Her love was easily bought with the new house, her latest generation iPhone and the fact that she now had a monthly allowance. It didn’t stop you from making her get an after school job at the school library though.
Now with a house of your own, you were doing something you’d always dreamed of. Watching Ransom try to hang Christmas lights.
“I’ll just pay someone to do it,” He offered, looking skeptically at the boxes you had placed on the dining room table, “I’m not going up there to do it.”
But there he was, up there doing it while you looked up at him from the bottom of the ladder. “This is the fucking worst.” He exclaimed, taking the light clips and attaching them to the roof. “Why are we doing this?”
“Because you love me and you want to make me happy.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, squinting against the sun.
“I’m not so sure,” He attached a few more clips within reach before steadily climbing down the ladder. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”
“I’m the beneficiary on your life insurance right?” You jokingly asked as his feet hit the ground. He laughed at your bad joke,
“I think that’s in pretty poor taste, but…” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Yes.”
“Julia should be home soon and then we can decorate the tree,” You wrapped your arms around his middle, capturing his lips with your own, “And make some cookies,” You kissed him again,
“And have a drink.” He smirked against your lips.
“You have a therapy appointment today,” You walked over to the steps, “You’re not having anything to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you once more, shooing you into the house as he re-positioned the ladder to go back up and finish stringing the lights.
You had to be proud of him. Court mandated therapy ended when your house arrest did, but he still went every week. At first it was due to a little pushing by you, but eventually he made the appointments on his own. He was getting better. Still a dick, but that was his nature. He wasn’t quick to anger anymore, his emotions took a more level head. And he was now publishing books twice a year. He’s got five books out now, and almost 100 million copies sold. Which is incredible.
You started back to school, Ransom wanting to start his own publishing company, “I’m paying for you to go to business school as an investment in our future.” He claimed. Once you were done with school your job would be to then help him open his own publishing company where you’d overlook everything. A daunting task, but it was hard not to believe in yourself when Ransom made himself your own personal cheerleader. “You’re brilliant,” He would say, “You’re so smart, you’ve just been dealt a bad hand until now.”
And now he was stacking that hand to the best of his ability.
Finals had been last week and you still marveled at the fact that as you poured over your last assignments and studying, Ransom would make you coffee and massage your shoulders whereas you would usually do the same for him as he was finishing a book.
You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with him, the first time he’d invited you was strange and you didn’t know what would even be discussed, but as you sat in the session and he was finally completely bare to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was his idea and not his therapist’s.
That session changed the dynamic between the two of you for sure.
After the dam broke, the two of you having sex for the first time and Ransom’s admission of love it wasn’t easy. He was still an asshole and as someone who had never been in a relationship before, this first real relationship, he didn’t really know how to behave.
You had one session a month together and it was probably one of the best ideas Ransom ever had.
He was a little sullen when he came home later that night, coming to curl himself around you as you placed the cookies you and Julia had baked earlier into the decorative metal tins you had just bought.
Sometimes it was like this, sadness. His lips gently pressing themselves against your cheek, his body tightly pressed against yours trying to pull as much comfort as he possibly could. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispered softly, “Not yet.”
“Okay.” You knew what he needed and what he needed was a little bit of time. You offered him a cookie, chocolate and peanut butter, still warm. He took it gently from your fingers, pulling away to go to his study, but not before pulling you into a soft lingering kiss. An apology for what you knew would be a distant night. A ‘I don’t know when I’ll be coming to bed’ night. You were sure you’d have three new chapters to go over in the morning.
You loved the snow. Almost a foot of it had fallen overnight, frosting the windows and giving your home a beautiful Christmas glow. It made your home feel cozy and well slept as you stretched your limbs out, hand coming to run across Ransom’s back. So he did come to bed after all. You rolled over to face him, laying on his belly, arms folded under his pillow facing you.
God he is beautiful.
You hated it about him. So handsome. You brushed his fallen hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his scrunched brow. He was letting his beard grow out for the winter. It made him even more attractive, the bastard.
Julia was just getting up for school, standing in the kitchen in her uniform, eating toast and facetiming a friend. She was in a carpool, this house you lived in, while comfortably distanced from others, was in a neighborhood of other kids that went to her same school. Something you’re sure Ransom took into account when buying this house in the first place. You drove the kids to school on Friday when you didn’t have any classes. Today was a different parent’s turn.
“Can I take some of these to school?” She asked, picking up a tin of cookies.
“Yeah, but take the red one.” You popped a k-cup into the keurig. “Those haven’t touched any nuts.”
“Mila’s Mom said we can go to the mall after school to go get presents for the pollyanna our class is having, is that okay?” She was such a good kid. Getting older now, she was almost ready to learn how to drive, something you’d been dreading, but for whatever reason Ransom was really looking forward to.
“You have money still?” You asked, preparing a second cup of coffee for the sleeping bear upstairs.
“I mean,” She smirked, “Unless you want to give me more…?” You rolled your eyes, turning towards your younger sibling.
“What time will you be home?” The car had just pulled up outside, horn letting out a quick ‘honk’ to let her know they were here.
Julia shrugged, hugging you, “We might get dinner, but probably no later than 8. I’ll text you.” She shrugged her coat on, opening the front door as you called behind her,
“Text me when you get to the mall and when you’re on your way home!”
“Okay!” She yelled back, trudging through the snow to the car.
“Keep your location on!” You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you,
“Okay!” Annoyed this time.
“I love you!” You shouted as she got in the car, slamming the door behind her. Your phone chimed with reply,
love you too
With that you went to rouse the sleeping man upstairs.
He groaned unhappily when you woke him up, but it was quickly soothed by the coffee you’d supplied him with.
Christmas was quickly approaching. The first Christmas you’d be spending together as a real, honest to god, family. In your own home, ready to begin your own traditions. The house was beautifully decorated and almost always smelled like cookies and a Christmas movie or music was always playing in the background.
There was a truly sweet moment you’d wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Julia rolling out cookie dough, Christmas music blaring obnoxiously loud and Ransom coming out from his study yelling,
“I can’t write anything in a house this loud!” Walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a soft ambling. Your sister and you looking at him and laughing, the red faced lumberjack quickly losing steam as he realized he was wearing the hideous Christmas sweater you’d jokingly bought him last year. “It’s the warmest sweater I own.” He claimed. Sure. Sure it is.
He turned the music back up a little louder, coming to a happy medium. His embarrassment waning as he looked at the two of you in the kitchen. A family that didn’t argue with every other word. People who genuinely loved each other. Something he never knew he wanted or needed. He came over to you, gently clasping your hands before tugging you into his body to ridiculously dance around to Jingle Bell Rock. The three of you peeling with laughter. Was this even real life anymore? With a soft parting kiss and a peak over your sisters shoulder to steal some cookie dough he was reluctantly walking back to his study, coming to join you twenty minutes later after finishing the chapter he’d been working on all day.
The three of you spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching the cheesy A Christmas Prince series on Netflix and eating what was sure your body weight in popcorn. Cozy with your little family.
“Do you think she’d like a puppy?” Ransom whispered into your neck one night.
“Do not.” You were close to sleep, just about to drift off, when his question stirred you awake.
“I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, fingers gently tugging your nipple.
“I’ll be the one taking care of it,” You whimpered as his other hand sunk between your thighs, “Do not get her a puppy.” His lips met your shoulder and you turned in his arms, thighs parting as he lightly stroked your clit.
“You’ll get there.” He pressed his lips against yours, teasing your entrance with his fingers, his now hard cock nudging against your thigh. “You’ll warm up to the idea.”
“No…” You whined, his fingers beginning to stroke your g-spot, his body coming to lay over yours, his eyes half lidded and lips wet and red came to meet yours as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. “Fuck.” His fingers laced themselves through yours, pressing your hands against the sheets as he began to rock his hips slowly into yours.
“You’re so sweet on me baby,” He mouthed against your lips, “So sweet on us.” He moaned. Your hips ground against his with every thrust. This slow love making that was making you gush around him, pussy making obscene sounds with every tilt of his hips, gently brushing the parts of you that make your legs shake. He chest close to yours, the begging in his eyes,
“You’ll be such a good mother,” His hips met yours a little harder on that one causing you to gasp, pussy clenching around him. “Gonna give me what I want for Christmas?” He asked. He did this sometimes, knowing you were still on birth control and the actual relationship was still relatively new, the two of you had been together for almost a year now, you knew that he’d been toying with the idea of having a baby. You’d talked about it in therapy recently.
“I love you,” He moaned, his hips build up a little speed as your legs came to wrap high around his waist. “I can’t wait,” He groaned, “So good to me.” His lips capturing yours passionately as his hips stalled, grinding himself against your g-spot, pubic bone rubbing your clit as you found your orgasm, pussy gushing wet dripping down his thighs onto the bed as you moaned into his mouth.
“You’ll be such a good mother baby, such a good fucking mother.” His hips picked back up in pace, “I’d do anything for you baby. Anything.” He was chasing his release now, thrusting against your sensitive clit making you reel again before releasing your hands and grabbing your thighs, pushing them back high against the bed, just making you take it. You both had to try to be quiet here, your sister on the floor above you, your hand covered your mouth as you tried to muffle the loud obnoxious squealing that came uncontrollably as his hips slapped against your ass in this position. Sweat forming on his brow and head thrown back as he groans through his teeth, feeling him empty his seed deep against your cervix.
In all the years you’d known him Ransom was never a kid person. He didn’t like small children, but he also didn’t come into contact with them often which is why it was so strange two months ago when he originally brought up the idea. “I think we would make pretty okay parents,” He said, “Better than mine definitely.” It made your heart flutter, thinking of a life with him. Knowing that he was also thinking about a life with you, but it’s just not the right time.
What wasn’t surprising about any of this was on Christmas morning, after breakfast and the exchanging of handmade sweaters, new books to read, a couple new apple watches, and your sister and you receiving matching earrings, a gorgeous little blue nose pit bull puppy, one that reminded you of your childhood dog was brought out with a little pink bow around its neck. Ransom ignored your glare as he handed the sweet little thing to your sister, who was crying in happiness.
He would remind you later on that he found you cooing to the sweet little thing only a few minutes after that, the puppy curled up in your arms, licking your fingers in earnest.
“Don’t you have something else?” Julia asked him.
“Julia this is plenty,” You scolded, “He’s gotten you enough.” She rolled her eyes.
“It’s not for me.” She laughed. The little puppy sleeping in her arms and you scratched it behind it’s ears, turning to Ransom who shifted nervously to one knee, a ring box open in his hand.
“Stop it.” Came out from a very watery smile. He licked his lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth before starting,
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
.
.
.
TAGLIST //
@littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @deidrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah @sleepycvpid @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @starlywars @gifsbysimplysonia @rocknbasil @imnotelasticheart @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa @bookish-shristi @auroussss
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Wait for me on the other side 3/8
Chapter Summary:
Rain... Fireworks... Romance?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82052251
April 15, 2021 - 7:00
Loki, his heart pounding, approached the mailbox whose flag was raised.
He opened it and unfolded the small note with trembling fingers.
Thank you for this lovely attention. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it.
You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone anymore and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?
I don't want to stop either!
I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to continue to get to know you and for you to get to know me.
Tell me what you like.
Yours, Mobius.
Loki breathed a sigh of relief, put the letter in his pocket and left. He would have to work before he could write. This was no longer a matter of a quick word, he wanted to take time to think before he wrote.
As he walked through the school gates, although he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.
April 17, 2019
Mobius was sitting in what had become his special Loki spot, the armchair in front of the bay window, a steaming cup of coffee next to him, reading Loki's latest letter.
I love Norse mythology and my work.
My favorite cocktail is Gimlets, gin and lime.
This brings me to my favorite color: green.
I have a sweet tooth, I like all kinds of sweets and pastries, and on the other hand I also like everything spicy.
I like quiet evenings reading and listening to music.
I like Jane Austen, The Brontë sisters and Paulo Coehlo.
I like to use metaphors but I have heard that they are not always great.
And although I can't stand violence, I like daggers, especially old ones.
Oh and I forgot, I like the house on the hill.
Mobius promised himself to go and see in Sylvie's antique weapons store if she had any antique daggers.
I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lies.
And although they are green I hate peas.
Mobius laughed at the last sentence, he finished his coffee and went to get his notepad to start writing.
April 19, 2021
Loki, sitting cross-legged on his couch with Croki's head on his leg, was reading Mobius' latest letter.
I like to take watches apart and put them back together, to see the mechanism inside. They are all different.
I like to walk in the streets of New York and discover places by chance.
I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish.
I like whiskey, Jack Daniels, and occasionally a good glass of red French Bordeaux wine.
I like all kinds of music, but my preference is for jazz.
I don't like lies, preconceived judgments, and gratuitous meanness, well, just plain meanness.
And I also like the house on the hill.
How did you end up living there anyway?
Loki read the letter again, folded it up and put it in the little box with the others before going to bed and thinking about what he would answer the next day.
April 21, 2019
Mobius went out still in his robe because it was a day of rest. He was surprised to see that Loki had already answered if he was to believe the little flag. He refused to question the fact that his heartbeat had accelerated.
He went to get the letter, then read it in front of his breakfast, Croki at his feet.
I rented it after college. It was the strangest place I had ever seen. I couldn't imagine anyone building it. Or... I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it sort of...hovered over the water. I loved that path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.
April 23, 2021
Loki, on break between classes, took the letter out of his pocket and read it again.
Yes, the fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door and that it's uphill, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time you enter the house, it's like you're embarking on a quest whose prize is the right to enter.
I'm sorry, I must sound eccentric.
April 24, 2019
During his lunch break, and all day, he read that simple phrase from Loki over and over again.
Don't apologize, you can be eccentric. You can be whatever you want.
Mobius had always felt different, both in his personal and professional life choices, and this simple phrase eased some of his inner struggles. He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest.
*********
A few weeks passed. The wind was blowing violently on a late spring day in New York. Loki was walking rapidly towards the school. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, he grabbed it to answer the call.
-Yes?
Loki lost the smile on his face.
-Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know that... no, I'm not mad that you called. I just... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I...
He was approaching the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students came in.
-I don't think that's a good idea. No. Sigyn, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... look, I'm on my way to work, we'll talk about it. Bye.
Loki sighed, shaking his head as he walked through the large front door.
" Already feeling demotivated?" asked Natasha as she greeted him with a smile.
"Oh no no!" protested Loki.
"That's good timing. Heimdall has caught the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's absent. Since you have an art degree, I was wondering if..."
"No worries! I'm happy to oblige."
"Perfect," Natasha thanked him, "You can check with the assistant about Heimdall's schedule and make arrangements then. Thank you Loki, really. If the exams weren't coming up, I wouldn't have asked you."
Loki replied, "No worries, really."
If anything, he was glad to see that even though he was the last one in and the youngest teacher, he was trusted.
At the end of the week, as he walked home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought about it before saying yes.
Because he was exhausted.He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to handle two positions.
Fortunately, Heimdall was back at work on Monday.
Loki put his groceries in the car and thought he'd stop by the house on the hill before heading home.
When he arrived, the little flag was up.
He took the letter and opened it.
Hi, pen pal. You haven't written in a while. I hope all is well.
You actually I
This is ridiculous, just a few words to write and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager.
Well I'm writing it down: I MISS YOU
It was obvious that the last words had been written with force.
Loki felt a strange warm feeling in his chest. He had also hugely missed the correspondence, so he hurried to answer on the spot and put the letter in the box before going home.
**********
Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Mobius chose to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he saw the little flag raised.
He took the letter out of the box and once he got home, Croki fed, he went to his favorite place to read the letter.
It has been a difficult week.
I couldn't get away from work and only had the strength to go to bed at night. I can't remember the last time I looked up at the sky, or saw a damn tree. That's what I miss. The nature around me.
It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.
PS: I missed you too
June 15, 2019 - 9:00 pm.
In the evening, Mobius left the house with a small tree in the pickup's trailer. He was driving towards the city.
June 15, 2021 - 9:30 pm
In the middle of the walk from school to his apartment, Loki saw the black rain clouds gathering in the sky. Suddenly there was a rumble of thunder in the distance and as he was on the home stretch, the rain began to pour.
June 15, 2019 - 9:35 PM
Arriving at 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village, obviously still under construction, Mobius parked the pickup and pulled a shovel and the tree from the trailer. He began digging a hole outside the construction site that would become Loki's apartment building. Once finished, he began planting the tiny, fragile tree.
June 15, 2021 - 9:35 pm
Loki was completely soaked as he walked the last few yards to his front door. He struggled to find his keys, dropped them, and grew more and more frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. He was baffled, as thunder and lightning continued to flash across the sky, and the rain continued to fall all around him, but not on him.
He looked up.
Above him were the dense green leafy branches of a young tree that formed a canopy swaying in the rain right above Loki. It hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Loki was stunned.
June 15, 2019 - 9:37pm
Mobius smiled as he swung the shovel into the pickup's trailer before heading home.
June 15, 2021 - 9:37 pm
Loki, overcome with emotion, broke into a smile and whispered to Mobius, even though he couldn't hear him, "Thank you."
Raindrops fell through the green branches as Loki danced under the tree, his face to the sky.
*********
2019 - A few days later
Casey stood on the small path in front of Mobius' house, "Wow!!!"
Mobius motioned for him to follow him inside.Casey entered, still stunned by the house.
"So, this is where you're hiding?"
Mobius replied with a smile, "Yeah.You want a beer?"
"Yeah thanks."
Mobius pulled two beers out of the fridge and they went to the chairs in front of the bay window and talked about the house for a while. Casey had lots of questions.
Casey took a sip and his face became more serious.
"Mobius. I didn't just come here to escape my pathetic existence in the city. I came to talk to you about TK and ask you to come back with us. We need you."
Mobius shook his head, "TK? Sorry Casey but no."
"I'm sure if you talked to her..." insisted Casey.
"Forget it.Ravonna doesn't want me to come back. I don't want to come back. Everyone's happier now."
Casey argued, "What about your work? Your work was awesome. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put your problems with her aside, you-"
"I said forget it." replied Mobius, this time with a sharp tone before softening, "Sorry. It's just... I like it here. And I like my job at the store."
Casey nodded and accepted the answer before asking, curious again, "Are you in a relationship with anyone?"
Mobius answered after a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, "No."
"Why did you hesitate?"
"I didn't hesitate."
"Yes, you did."
Mobius insisted, "I...I'm not involved with anyone, okay?"
"Okay." replied Casey, who smiled playfully before continuing, "All I'm saying is that maybe you should think about the future."
Mobius began to laugh. He couldn't stop himself.
Casey looked at him as if he had gone crazy, "What?"
Mobius continued to laugh.
"What?"
**********
A few days later, with Loki's letter open in the passenger seat of his pickup, Mobius drove to the train station near Brooklyn College of Arts.
He parked, picked up the letter and got out, heading for the entrance to the station.
Around this time two years ago, I lost something.
In the Brooklyn train station.
I was going back to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is.
Then put it in the mailbox. It's your mission if you choose to accept it.
Mobius could not resist a challenge. So he found himself at that moment looking for an object he knew nothing about. He walked through the station. There were a few people. He looked for a single man and saw none. Just a few families and an elderly couple.
He continued to search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the station platform, he saw a young man with long black hair get up and get ready to board the train.
Mobius wasn't sure if it was him, but he felt deep down that he was Loki, and he was amazingly handsome. Mobius hurried through the door and onto the station platform. He was about to head towards him when he stopped.
The young man had embraced a woman who had her back to Mobius.
They kissed and said goodbye.
Neither of them noticed that Loki, for it was undoubtedly Loki, had left a book on the bench behind him. Mobius saw it, but it would be awkward to approach and interrupt the kiss. He hesitated.
The train driver announced the final boarding.
Loki separated from the woman, obviously reluctantly, and boarded the train.
The woman Loki had kissed did not move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He did not notice the book. Mobius watched him leave and once he was gone, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Loki had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen. It had definitely been Loki.
********
Loki impatiently went to the mailbox, thinking that perhaps Mobius had already been to the station.
He opened it, and was disappointed when he didn't see the book and just a little note.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE 4TH OF JULY?
Loki, a little disappointed, answered immediately on the same piece of paper and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of the little flag being raised and went back to the box and opened it. He grabbed the small paper and unfolded it.
L: Going to the fireworks, I guess.
I go every year. Why?
M: Would you like to watch them together? From the cliff. The fireworks on the lake are beautiful
L: I know, I watched them from the house the time I lived there.
You're not asking me out, are you?
M: No, no. I just thought it might be nice to do the same thing, that's all.
L: The same thing, two years apart.
M: It's better than staying home.
L: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.
M: See you in 10 days then. July 4th at 10pm in front of the mailbox.
Mobius did not wait for an answer, and walked happily back to the house. Even though he had denied it, it still felt like a date of some sort.
The butterflies began to fly again.
July 4, 2019/2021 - 10:00 pm.
Two years apart, in the same place, Loki and Mobius sat next to the mailbox. Mobius brought one of the seats from the garden furniture and Loki brought an old folding camping seat in his car.
He is armed with his pad and pencil.
The strange and timeless conversation started again, always punctuated by the little flag that went up and down.
L: Did you go to the station? I never got my book.
M: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it.
By the way, there's something I wanted to ask you.
Who was the girl at the station?
Your fiancée?
Why didn't you tell me about her?
Loki thought it sounded like Mobius was jealous, but didn't want to get the wrong idea.
L: You don't tell me about your love life either.
M: Because I don't have one unfortunately.
My God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.
L: I'm not married. We broke up when I moved to New York.
I'm on my own.
The fireworks just started.
M: They started here too.
I'm sure yours are better, since it's supposed to get better every year.
L: Probably. Let's enjoy the sight.
Afterwards, during the fireworks, the flag did not move for a while. Then when the grand finale was over, and the silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, making Loki jump.
M: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were so gorgeous.
Loki read these words and could not suppress a small gasp of surprise. He looked around embarrassed even though he knew for a fact that no one was there.
L: Not fair.
You saw me but I still don't know what you look like.
Mobius ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was truth night, he might as well go for it.
M: You're right. I wouldn't mind knowing what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and tell me what you think?
Loki thought about it and then looked at his watch, it was 10:43 pm, he took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous
L: Why don't you call me on July 4, 2021 at 10:44 pm
As Loki finished the last line of the "4" the phone rang.
He almost fell out of his chair.
He steadied himself with a pounding heart and picked up, "Hello?"
________
Who is on the other end of the phone...?
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)
As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰
#lokius fic#alternative ending#no powers au#loki#mobius m mobius#loki series#lokius#loki x mobius#time husbands#timefrost#developing relationship#penpal
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Unforgivable || ch. two
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Your life with Natasha seemed like pure bliss until the team mistakes you for an agent gone rogue.
Word count: 2K
Author’s note: Cliff hanger, I knowwww. There will be one more part! I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: angst, fluff!, swearing, angsty plot, basically the whole team is a dick
Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
Your feet start to ache as you continue to walk on the dirt road that led from the compound. You honestly had no idea where you were going, your phone was at five percent, and the Avengers had just threatened your life. Tears started to prick your eyes as you thought about Natasha. Anger consumes your thoughts, hot tears, and furrowed eyebrows. How could she not trust your love for her? How did the Avengers even have any information like that?
You blamed her for not trusting you. You blamed her for not trusting her love for you. You blamed her friends for not looking into it more. You blamed her for-
You just sigh and shake your head. A part of you wanted to give her a chance, to go back and see if she believes you. The other part never wanted to see her again, ever. Another part of you growled at the side that wanted to go back; you were almost ashamed of it. The Avengers had threatened you. They threatened your life and never once believed you over some paper.
But you were so confused. Your heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her face again or never having her fiery hair tickle your cheek.
You abruptly stopped as the road split into two. You tried checking the map on your phone but it acted like there were nothing here but fields. You sigh, sitting on a large rock near the road. You felt a vibration from your phone and quickly looked at it.
Hot RedHead: It’s over. I never liked you anyway.
Tears started to fully flow now, your chin wobbling. You started to chew on your lower lip to help stop the raking sobs flowing out of your body but it was no use. You were now leaning against the rock and pulling your knees up, resting your hands in your head. God, this all seemed so pathetic. You really love Nat, you can’t get her out of your head but what does she think of you now?
Natasha’s POV
Natasha was going as fast as she could, turning corners on her motorcycle it almost fell over. She had no idea how far you had gone. She was hoping you were still walking along the road. She knew you would push her away right when you saw her but can she blame you? Her friends made her believe you were a Hydra agent. But all she could think about was cradling you in her arms and telling you she’s sorry, hoping you’ll forgive her.
She knows it’ll take time. However long it’ll take, she doesn’t care. She’ll wait until you’re both 60 and a little wrinkly if she has to. But Nat also understands if you don’t choose her. With the amount of damage, she and her friends caused she doesn’t blame you if you never wanted to see you again. She would definitely respect that choice.
Fire burning anger ignited in herself. She can’t believe how shallow it was to believe her friends who stupidly mistook you for someone else. She felt so much anger towards them, convincing her that you were with her for information. How could they be so stupid? How could she be so stupid to trust them?
She came to a screeching halt as she spotted you leaning on a rock. She propped her motorcycle and carefully walked over. She practically whimpered as she could hear your soft snores. She could see the tear-stained cheeks and her heart constricted. Your nose looked stuffy from all the crying and your eyes had a slight puff to them.
She presses a hand onto your forehead and could feel the heat radiating off of you. It had been quite a hot day in New York and she didn’t know how long you had sat out here. She sighed and picked you up, laying in her arms you subconsciously snuggled into her. She feared that if she took you on her bike, you would end up falling off. So, walking it is.
Natasha marched along the dirt road, tears flowing down her cheeks. Some dripped down onto her shirt as she couldn’t wipe them. She just whispered “I’m sorry,” over and over again and carried you to the nearest bus station.
After about an hour of walking, Natasha had finally made it to the bus station. She paid for your ticket and sat you on the bus, head leaning on the window. She looked around and saw that only an old woman sat on the other side. She told the bus driver to keep an eye out for you and she nodded, telling her that no one would touch you. Nat just nodded and started to trek back to the compound.
--
Reader’s POV
It had been a couple of days since Nat broke up with you. You kept telling yourself that you were...handling it but in reality, her leaving had hit you pretty hard. You hadn’t really left your apartment, only going to the store for groceries. You called in for work telling them that you were sick but they knew you were lying. Especially your best friend, Shuri. Right when you called in sick, she immediately asked what was wrong but knew you needed time off.
You sat on the couch and sadly ate ice cream and started watching The Lovebirds. You would be drowning in your favorite wine but they ran out so you turned to tubs of ice cream. As the movie progresses, you find yourself crying with some tears dropping into your ice cream as Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani realize they’re still in love with each other.
You turned off the TV as the movie was over and was about to get ready for bed, especially since you’ve run out of sick days but something caught your eye. Your bag had sat on the dining room table, completely untouched. A little note stuck out of one of the pockets. You walk over and carefully take the note out.
Meet me at the blockhouse in central park on the 7th, 9 pm.
You sigh, that was tonight. But you knew exactly who it was. You knew Natasha wanted to speak with you, maybe she changed her mind? That definitely explains how you don’t remember ending up on a bus.
You just shook your head, crumbling it up, and tossing it in the trash. There was no way you would fall for that, right? I mean, it’s just the Avengers wanting to throw you in jail or maybe that’s just where they wanted to kill you. You and Nat had met there, her asking you for your number and you had many dates walking around central park.
They just wanted to reel you in. They were smart, you’d give them that but there’s no utter way you’d go. So, you got ready for bed and fell right asleep. The next morning you had to go to work, as much as you trudged along, groaning loudly as you got dressed. You stayed quiet on the subway as your friend talked your ear off.
You walked into the International Rescue Committee, slightly waving at some of your co-workers. You sat at your desk, doing some paperwork before visiting some of the kids you’ve helped. You especially couldn’t wait to see Peter, who has been attached to your hip since you arrived. You’re typing away, sipping on some coffee until you jumped a bit from a voice behind you.
“Oh shit, you look awful.” You roll your eyes and give a look at Shuri who’s snickering at your reaction. You and her both turn a bit more serious as you sigh and turn to her small tears forming in your eyes. She wraps her arms around you into a full hug. “Nat broke up with me. Her friends saw my name in a Hydra file and thought I was out to get her.”
Shuri gasped, hugging tighter. “Did they believe you?” You shook your head and ignored the stares you were getting from you crying in Shuri’s arms. “I see why you took some days off. Don’t worry about it. I’ll fill out your paperwork. Go see Peter.” She smiled brightly as you thanked her, kissing her cheek. “You’re the best boss ever!”
You walked next door to a large and fancy apartment complex where most of the refugees stay. You knew he was playing sports with some of the other kids so you walked past the complex and to the basketball court. “Y/n!” Peter ran towards you, locked you into a huge as you giggled and ruffled Peter’s hair. “Good to see you, kid.” He goes on to ask a bunch of questions, wondering where you’ve been and why you weren’t there. You explained some of it, to which he nodded and then declared to hate the Avengers now.
You laughed but you knew he was serious. He meant well. You and the rest of the kids start playing some basketball, laughing and playing around. What you didn’t notice though was the Avengers walking up to the basketball court. Before they reached you and notified you of their presence, one of the kids fell onto their knee and scraped it pretty bad.
Loud cries and sobs filled the air and you ran over, inspecting the wound. “Sh, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Peter! Get the aid kit!” He ran into the complex to grab one from the front desk while you rub circles into the little girl’s back. Peter came running back and you took some soap and water, cleaning the wound. “See that bird over there? I want you to look at it okay? See it? It told me the other day that it likes your paw patrol shoes.”
The little girl cried out only a couple of times as you cleaned the wound and put a power rangers band-aid on her, which you knew was one of her favorites. She clung to your leg asking if you can get her ice cream because it still hurts. You laugh and nod, holding her hand.
“Y/n.” Your whole body froze, slightly turning to see the Avengers standing before you. You gripped the little girl’s hand while pulling a frown on your face. “Peter, take her to get ice cream.” He just nodded and gulped, taking the girl’s hand and walking to the ice cream shop next door. He gave you a concerned look but you nodded, making sure he knows you’re okay.
You open your mouth to speak but Clint just shakes his head, the rest of the Avenger’s head hanging low. You were honestly scared shitless, you tried not to give it away. However, it was pretty obvious as your hands were trembling and your breathing was fast. They were here to end it, weren’t they? I mean, sure you’ve stayed away from Nat so what could they possibly want?
“You should know that we’re sorry.” Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. Sorry? Huh? “The person on that file wasn’t you. The picture was the exact opposite. We shouldn’t have reacted that way. We’re very sorry and hold us accountable. If you can, please forgive Nat.” And with that, each Avenger apologized for what they did and asked you to consider taking her back.
You would just raise your eyebrows but then they told you that she feels horrible, not sleeping or eating. She feels like shit for not trusting you, the love of her life, and trust them instead. You couldn’t speak, just shaking your head as tears threatened to fall. They nodded and walked away going back to the compound.
Now you had to make a choice. Forgive Natasha or never see her again? On one hand, you wanted to be back in her arms again. Smelling her shampoo and kissing her temple all while that passion and love fill your stomach. But on the other hand, the Avengers had threatened you and your life. Natasha thought they were right. Natasha believed them, believed that you used her for information.
Although, you know you’ve already made your decision.
~~
Unforgivable Taglist: @messuhp @dark-heart-no-soul @jenny-song
Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @kitkatd7
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov x reader#scarlett johansson#natasha romanov#marvel#marvel fanfiction#natasha fanfiction#Black Widow#black widow fanfiction#black widow x reader#angst#natasha angst#marvel angst#natasha romanoff series#marvel x reader#captain america#clint barton#Bucky Barnes#wanda maximoff#gay!natasha
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Lost to Doubt
Miya Atsumu x F!Reader
There's nothing you could do to save a relationship which was already broken.
Pt. 1 < Part 2 > Pt. 3
You found someone that you loved in the first year of high school. He was the definition of a perfect gentleman; he opened up the door for you, he picked you up every day to go to school, he held your hand at the crossover. He was perfect, but perfect for the world doesn't mean he would be perfect for you.
Your eyes darted to the gold necklace on your drawer. It was a symbol that reminded you of him, the one who broke your heart into pieces. Since he bought you that, you never took it off. Until that day when he decided to pour the hurtful truth right in front of your face.
It's frightening you how someone could make a big impact in your life. Maybe because he's your first love, maybe because you trust him so much, maybe because you're too hopeful in time. You thought he would be yours forever, but forever is a sneaky thing.
"(Y/n)?" You looked up to find your sibling on the doorway, "Miya-san's here." Just the mention of his name brings a turmoil in your heart already, and your sibling noticed that, "I will just tell him to leave." You looked at the clock, it was so late at night, and you didn't want to meet him when you were so drained.
You were not ready to face him even though it was already two weeks after that particular event. You haven't come to any of his practices, no longer taking care of him with a towel and food, not even once trying to contact him.
Then again, Miya Atsumu never called you for those two weeks. He didn't bother to apologize or redeem himself for what he had done. You will crawl back to him just like when the two of you have a fight before. He was so sure about it, knowing how much you love him.
That's what he thought, since he knew you well.
There's nothing else that you want in this life than a love that would last forever. You were hoping that maybe you wouldn't have felt the heartache along the way, alas, Atsumu was right by labelling you as a naive girl. All you wanted was a good guy, but maybe your expectation was too high by loving the prideful setter.
"Hey, sis." Your siblings came to your room once again with a paper bag in hand, "He wanted me to give you this." You were confused as you took the paper bag from their hand,
"Thank you, I will open it." They gave you a small hug before leaving you alone in your room. Once they closed the door, you opened the paper bag, and the content surprised you. It was a perfectly wrapped onigiri, you blinked and took it from the bag.
You were hesitant to taste it, but then, maybe he just wanted to apologize by making you one of your favourite foods. Slowly, you bit the onigiri in your hand. The taste somehow brought tears into your eyes. It tasted so familiar and warm even though it was already cold.
Remembering the three of you cooking together and creating havoc at the kitchen, you wonder would you ever make a memory like that ever again, knowing for sure you couldn't face one of the twins.
You found a note at the bottom of the paper bag. With a steadfast move, you grabbed it, in hoping to see a familiar handwriting. You stop eating the onigiri once you see the letters. It's not messy and curly like how your boyfriend writes.
The letters were neat and a little bit straighter. Tears were already dropping on the letter in your hand, knowing for sure now that it's not your boyfriend. But you continue eating the onigiri vigorously. It tasted so good that it almost made you forget how hurtful your condition right now.
"I am sorry for what he did. I miss you."
It's just simple words, but somehow when you knew it's not belong to your boyfriend, you just wanted to cry. Why does someone else miss you and not him? What possibly does your boyfriend think about you right now? How could someone care for your wellbeing so much that even your boyfriend couldn't compare?
Once you gulped the last bite of the onigiri, that's when the realisation truly hit you. There will be no longer goofing around, he wouldn't be the one who entertains you when you need a distraction, there's no more love that you could ask from him.
Because there's no longer us between you and Miya Atsumu.
It used to be there before, it used to be so powerful that no one ever thought the two of you would break. You were like a tamer to him, and he was like the sun that brought you joy. But it's no longer there, and you need to remember that from now on.
Your eyes were lingering to the letter that was smudged because of your tears. A smile plastered on your face as you felt like someone at least appreciated you, even though it's not actually someone that you hoped would change his way of thinking.
"Thank you, Samu."
Two weeks had passed since the incident in the national's locker room, and this Saturday night felt so quiet without you being here. You were usually here with the twins, bantering and cooking together in the kitchen. It had been a tradition for more than a year. So it felt so strange when you were not there anymore.
Osamu was watching some cooking channel on the television. His twin was out to god knows where. He tried to distract himself from the thought of your broken facade that he always saw at school. It was late when the front door finally opened,
"Where have you been?" He didn't have to turn his head to know who it was, "It's awfully late, mom's kept complaining about your behaviour, ‘Tsumu."
The setter clenched his fist, debating should he respond to that question or just go upstairs and left it unanswered.
He didn’t know how to say this, he didn’t know how to open up to someone else —someone else that was not you of course. Even after all these years, his twin brother never snoops his nose on his life problem. But every time it includes you, the grey-haired twin always tried to get himself involve.
"Well," There's something in his voice, something that made himself grimaced, "I am just having fun, like you didn't know about that." That made Osamu jerked his head to look at him, glaring at how carefree the expression on his face was, "What? Why did you look at me like that?"
"Who is it?" The wing spiker stood up, feeling uneasy all of a sudden, "Who do you spend time tonight with?" And Atsumu could only chuckle at the question. It was as if his twin saw him as someone from the time before he was with you, "Why would you do that to her?" The old him, the one who liked to play around.
Atsumu knew how much his twin brother cared for you. So why not playing with his mind?
After all, Osamu was mostly in the upper hand when it comes to bullying terms. And like an idiot he was, he decided that it was a good time to rile the opposite wing spiker.
"It's not like (Y/n) will care, right?" The setter put one hand on his hips, "Even though she was, something that she didn't know wouldn't hurt her." Osamu snapped, tackling the setter to the ground immediately.
"You are the one who fucking hurt her!" His usual calm demeanour was long gone now, "How in the hell could you do that to her?!"
"It's just a kiss god damn it! Don't being so fucking dramatic, Samu!" Just a kiss, He knew how much that gesture could feel like heaven to you. Your face would be so different after a kiss from his twin. So he knew, for you, it's not just a kiss.
"JUST A KISS?!" His hand gripped on his twin's collar, "Kiss is something that you share with someone that you love, you piece of trash!" A smug plastered on Atsumu's face when he heard the wing spiker say that.
"What do you know about loving someone, though?" His brown eyes bore to the now enraged twin, "You never have a girlfriend, you know nothing about love."
"Well how could I?!" Osamu screamed to his twin's face. His grey orbs filled with rage and sorrow, "How could I have that when someone that I love belongs to my twin?!"
Atsumu never knew about that, or maybe he's just too apathetic for something that was going around him. Silence surrounding them once the words came out from the grey-haired twins. Osamu dropped his twin to the ground and stood up, leaving the setter to contemplate over the newfound information.
Osamu didn't want to reveal that, not when he knew how much you love his twin brother. Not when he knew his twin was too, still in love with you. But he just couldn't help it, he didn't even realise that he just made an onigiri on the kitchen to calm himself down.
He let out a long sigh, putting the onigiri on the paper bag that he found on the countertop. Atsumu looked at him with guilt coating his brown eyes when he saw the wing spiker walking towards the front door with a paper bag in his hand.
By all means, you were the first decent girlfriend that Atsumu had. Every girl before you was just to fool around and to satisfy his need. But when it came to you, he poured everything. He knew he would lose without you guiding him on the right path, but again, he was too cocky in this relationship he had.
That was why he went to your house today. For hours, he stood in front of your house, trying to arrange the right words that could possibly make you forgive him. He was tired to wake up every morning, knowing that you were not going to be there at his practice. And he wanted to change that.
Yet he was just a coward. It was already around 9 pm when he finally knocked on the front door. His mind spiralling deep once again, thinking that you wouldn’t forgive me, thinking that it was no use. Thinking that he didn’t worth your time—which he actually agreed.
So like an idiot he was, he decided to turn around and ran. Away from your house, away from you. He didn’t care as tears blurred his vision, what he knew that time as he came back to his house; was the fact that he was just a coward when it comes to your love.
He wanted to just kiss you and bathe in your embrace once again. Muttering every apology, anything that could make you see that he was in love with you. Utterly, in love with you.
When he arrived at his house and calm himself down, he promised to himself that tomorrow he would go to your class, apologizing in front of everyone if he had to because he didn’t give a damn for his pride — his pride was nothing compared to you after all.
But right now, he didn't know the right thing to do anymore. For the first time in forever, he thought about how you are feeling. Especially after all of those words that he blurted towards you. He was in love with you, but he didn't know does forever with him would be good for you.
And so, he hoped he chose the right path.
Snow was falling from the sky, accompanying you as you walked alone to your home. Just like three weeks ago, your days were filled with silence. No more crazy banter with the twins, no more impromptu run to the cinema, no more cooking together.
You pouted with the changes that drastically happened in your life. You knew damn well about how Atsumu's mind works. Maybe you should be the one who apologized, after all, he wanted space but you didn't listen.
He was the one who said that he never actually loved you, he was the one who said that he only used you. But somehow, you knew what he said is not real, he's just too prideful, you knew about it.
You were already standing in front of your house, but the urge to come back to school and coming back to him seems the only thing that you have in mind. You didn't care about the cold, so you ran again in the same direction.
Three weeks, it needed you three weeks to finally do something for the relationship that was currently standing on tightrope. Your phone buzzed as you ran. Thinking that it might be him, you opened it up.
You fell to the ground on the quiet street, didn't bother to stand up anymore. Your head hurts because running too much, and your heart, god you wanted to rip it apart right now. You didn't care about the physical pain that you felt right now, your emotional pain was far too painful than anything that you have ever felt.
"Hey, put your phone down, dimwit." Osamu noticed the forlorn look on his twin that was currently typing, "Oi! Did you hear me or-"
But he didn't expect to see the glossy brown orbs as it stared at the phone screen. Osamu knew, he knew what could make his twin look like that. He was there when the two of you fought about how the setter was careless about his own health, so he knew too well, the only thing that could make even the most obnoxious person he ever knew, to be like this.
"Tsumu, what did you do?" He asked his twin who was now throwing his phone on the bag. Atsumu looked so stressed, but then he chuckled bitterly. He looked up to saw the wing spiker,
"I did what I think was right, Samu." And those words were the only thing Osamu needed to barge outside from the gymnasium. He didn't care for the shout that was directed for him. The only thing in his mind was you, nothing else.
You feel like you couldn't breath anymore, the snow under you was starting to melt with how much your tears were dripping down. Your fingers started to feel numb, but it was better than the feeling of heartbreak.
Everyone could tell you that you were exaggerating, it's just a boy after all. No man worth to make you act like this. But you love him too much, and knowing you and him were through for real, you couldn't help but feel that you just lost a half of your life.
"I think we never meant for each other."
You bit your lips, hoping that it was not real.
"In case you still have feelings for me, I am sorry, (Y/n)."
No, this is not the apology that you wanted from him.
"We are better off apart."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ༶• ┈┈ ⛧ ┈ ♛ ♛ ┈ ⛧ ┈┈ •༶ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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