#thank you noah s sweat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darksigns-exe · 27 days ago

Text

what shall we do in the dark? - jolly karlsson x noah sebastian

warnings: Consensual voyeurism, d/s dynamics, fisting, oral sex (m receiving), cum play, sex tapes, name calling

word count: 4k

note: thank you @deathblacksmoke and @circle-with-me for your help and emotional support on this one <3

masterlist | read: disappear into the night | taglist sign-up

The meeting couldn’t have been less necessary. Jolly is glad that he’s the only one of them who went. Having all of them there would have been an absolute waste of their time. He’s mostly annoyed at the fact that he’s the one who had to go. But it also means that he doesn’t have to go to the next few label things.

Jolly trots up the stairs, fully intent on returning to the book he’d started the previous night. It’s a good book, and he’s really enjoyed the first few chapters of it. But as he comes up the stairs, the unmistakeable sound of moans fills his ears. He doesn’t have to guess where they come from.

The first door on the right – Noah’s door – is cracked open just enough for it to be visible from the stairs. Jolly doesn’t know what else he expected, really. His steps quicken a little, now rather curious to see what the boy is up to this time, it’s always something.

Jolly peeks into the room through the open door, and what he sees for once actually surprises him.

Noah is on his knees, braced on one hand. The other pushes a surprisingly large, realistic looking toy into his hole. His skin glistens with sweat and the lube that seems to be all over his ass and thighs. His hand slips from the end of it, and he lets out a frustrated groan.

Noah reaches is for it again, whining when he can’t get a good grip on it.

Jolly decides then that he’s struggled enough. He steps into the room and closes the door as quietly as he can. He keeps his eyes fixed on Noah, who still seems to be entirely oblivious to his presence.

Jolly comes up behind Noah. He’s rock hard, the tip of his cock an angry shade of red that tells him that he’s been at this for a while.

He places a hand on Noah’s waist, just above the soft round of his ass.

Noah yelps, whips around to see who is standing behind him.

“Fuck Jolly.” he gasps, “Fucking scared me.”

“Don’t pretend that you weren’t waiting for someone to walk in on you like this.”

He reaches for the end of the toy without waiting for an answer. He slowly eases it out of him, just to get a grasp on what Noah is trying to accomplish.

“Ambitious. Didn’t know you were a little size queen on top of all of this.” he chuckles.

Jolly knows that Noah likes it when he mocks him a little, and this is honestly the perfect thing to use against him.

“Jolly.” he whines.

“What? You’re the one who was fucking himself with a toy this big. You gotta live with the consequences.”

Jolly slowly pushes the toy back into him. He doesn’t let it slide in fully. Instead, he sets a slow rhythm. Noah responds with a near wanton moan. He pushes back against the toy, trying to get more of it. He’s so desperate for it already.

Watching him push back like this sparks an idea in Jolly’s head.

If Noah wants to be full so desperately –

Jolly has thought about it before when he had a couple of his fingers buried inside Noah. He hadn’t considered it a viable option until this moment.

“Think you can take more?” he asks, through the blood rushing in his ears.

“More?”

“Do you want to try taking my hand?”

Noah is quite long enough for Jolly to get nervous. He shifts on his knees, his hands flex where they’re gripping into the bedsheets below.

“Fuck. Yes.” the words trail off into a moan, “I want to try.”

Jolly gives a few more slow thrusts of the toy into him, before he carefully removes. He doesn’t dare to ask how long Noah’s been working to fit this thing into him. The length and girth of it are rather impressive. Jolly traces his thumb along the rim of Noah’s hole, pulling another sweet sigh from him. His thumb slips inside so easily. Compared to the toy, it must feel like nothing.

“Lube?”

Noah pushes the tube towards him without another word.

“If something feels off, tell me. Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will.” Noah chokes out, “Can you – can I be on my back? I want to see you.”

“Of course.”

Jolly takes a step back, giving Noah space to turn around and re-arrange himself. He shifts for a moment longer, before he gives Jolly a nod.

“Give me one of those pillows?”

Noah tosses it towards him with a questioning look.

“Ass up.” Jolly says sternly, “Come on, be good.”

For once, Noah doesn’t act up and just does as Jolly asks of him. Most of the time, he has to work to get Noah to do what he wants. It’s part of their game, though, so having him just obey like this tells Jolly that he really wants this.

He pushes the pillow under Noah’s waist so make the angle a little bit more comfortable.

“Good?”

Noah gives him a nod in return.

Jolly pushes his thighs apart, making room for himself there. For a moment, he just runs his hands across Noah’s thighs, feeling the smooth skin beneath his palms. Maybe he should take a page out of Nicholas’ book once in a while and overwhelm him with gentle touch instead of the roughness he usually gives Noah.

His fingers drift lower and lower until they brush against Noah’s entrance. There’s still enough lube smeared around him for Jolly to be able to slip the tip of his middle finger in. He doesn’t tease him for too long though. They have ambitious plans after all.

With a little bit more lube he works his way up to three fingers fairly easily. He know that Noah can take at least this much, as three is usually what Jolly gets him to before he fucks him.

He slowly eases a fourth finger into him and Noah whines so sweetly for him when he does. It’s still a snug fit, but feeling Noah clench around him like this makes his head spin just a little bit. Noah doesn’t seem to be much better off. Jolly can tell that he’s desperately trying to keep his eyes open but the longer Jolly works his hand into him the harder it gets.

“You gotta relax for me, Noah. I know it’s a lot.” He says gently.

“I’m trying.” Noah almost whines.

“You wanna touch yourself? Does that help?”

His hand practically flies to his cock. The strokes are haphazard and entirely without rhythm.

“Take your time. Remember what we agreed on. You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Noah slows down then, matching his strokes to the movements of Jolly's hand inside of him.

The minutes drag by, but eventually Jolly feels comfortable pushing him further.

“How are you feeling? Think you can take a little more?”

As much as he wants to be mean and cruel with him right now, Jolly also knows that Noah needs him to be a little more gentle.

“I want to try more.”

Jolly uses his free hand to part his thighs just a little bit further.

“Tell me if something feels bad.”

Noah gives a rushed nod, “So good.”

Jolly carefully tucks his thumb against his palm. He eases his hand back into Noah as slowly as he can. He takes his time with it. Pausing once in a while to make sure that Noah is still okay.

He feels so warm and tight around his hand. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Jolly feels Noah stretch around the widest part of his hand. He keeps it there for a moment, to give both of them a break. When he looks up at Noah, he finds him looking so worn out already.

His spit-slicked lips are parted just so as he tries to keep his breathing steady. The hand around his cock has come to a complete stand still. There’s a pool of precum on his belly. His face is soft, so blissed out.

He’s so pretty like this.

“Look at me, Noah.” Jolly says sternly.

He lets out a whine, slowly raising his head. His eyes barely open, but his focus lands on Jolly.

“Good boy.”

The praise has the exact effect on him that Jolly had hoped for. His eyes snap open, and he’s suddenly fully alert.

“Heard you got Folio to entertain you too. Really aren’t trying to hide that you’re a little whore, are you?”

Noah makes a pitiful little sound in response.

“Said he found you working yourself open. Did you want him to fuck you?” He lets his hand slip inside a little further as he speaks.

“Wanted someone to fuck me.” Noah whines.

“Desperate little thing.”

Jolly starts to pull his hand out of him again as slowly as he can. He’s intent on getting Noah to his most desperate state. He needs him whimpering and whining today.

“Shit, you should see yourself. Look so fucking good like this.” Jolly lets out with a groan, “Take my hand so well. You’ve almost done it.”

Noah pushes back against him, “I can take it. Please Jolly.”

“I know you can. Be patient.”

He is almost back to the widest part of his hand again. Jolly lets his hand slip into him fully then.

They both gasp when it does.

Jolly can’t look away from where Noah is wrapped around him. It always shakes him when he sees him taking his cock, but this is so much worse. Noah has his head thrown back, writhing under his attention. He’s all gasps and sighs already, whining when Jolly moves his hand just a little bit.

He’s so tight around him, too.

It really hits him then that they’re really doing this. He really has his hand wrist deep inside of one of his best friends.

With how tight Noah is around him, it’s difficult to really move his hand. He keeps the movements slow and steady until he doesn’t feel as much resistance. He shifts his hand so minimally, carefully easing the tight muscle around him open.

Jolly tentatively curls his fingers inside of him. When Noah lets out a pretty moan, he continues slowly forming a fist.

Noah freezes up when he does and Jolly briefly thinks that he’s hurting.

“Oh fuck.” He says shakily, “Fuck, that’s good.”

“You like feeling this full?”

Noah pries his eyes open, he looks down the length of his body until he lands on where Jolly’s hand disappears inside of him. Jolly can’t decide if he looks shocked or impressed. Most likely it’s a mix of both.

Noah hand wanders across his chest. He briefly thumbs across a nipple before his hand wanders lower still. He’s so indulgent with it, touching himself as if Jolly isn’t there. It presses down on his lower belly, and he makes a sound deep in his throat.

“Can you feel it?” Jolly asks.

Noah nods, “Yea it’s — this is a lot.”

“Still feeling good?”

“So fucking good.”

Jolly uncurls his hand, pulling most of the way out of him. Easing his flat hand in and out of him feels a little more comfortable and achievable right now. And even though he knows that Noah will probably complain about it, he lets his hand slip out almost entirely. When he pushes back inside this time, he rotates his hand a little. The motion makes Noah gasp out loud.

Jolly tries to focus his attention on Noah’s prostate. Noah shifts and moans under him, the hand on his belly twitches as if he’s trying to stop himself from wrapping it around his cock.

He moves his hand just a little bit faster, now really fucking him with it.

“This is what it takes to get you to shut up?” Jolly asks cruelly.

Noah lets out a meek whimper, tossing his head to the other side.

“Such a desperate little thing. Just can’t get enough, can you?”

“Jolly, please.” he whines, “I’m so close.”

“Can you cum like this?”

“Can you touch?” he sounds so desperate for it that Jolly can’t bring himself to say no.

With his hand still inside of him, Jolly wraps his unoccupied hand around Noah’s neglected cock. His hips buck upwards as soon as he touches him, which in turn makes Jolly’s hand shift inside of him. His mouth falls open. The string of breathless gasps that pours from his lips makes Jolly twitch behind his jeans.

“Tell me how much you want it.” Jolly says, gripping the base of his cock a little tighter, “You know what I want to hear from you.”

This part is always a little tricky. Getting Noah to really beg for his climax has historically been a hurdle. Sometimes he freezes up entirely, and sometimes, like today, it is so easy for him.

“Please Jolly. Please, I’ve been good.”

“You can do better.” he gives a way too slow stroke along his cock, barely giving him the pressure Noah needs.

“Want it so bad. Please, I need it.” Noah fixes him with a pleading glance, “Fuck –”

“Begging for it like the good little slut you are.” Jolly chuckles, “That’s what you are, huh?”

“Yes.” he whines out in response, “I –”

“Say it, and you’ll get what you want.”

Noah lets out another whine, once more bucking up against Jolly's hand.

“I’m your slut.” Noah replies quietly, “Please Jolly, I can’t hold it. Please let me cum.” Jolly lets him stew for a moment longer, slowly working his hands in tandem.

Noah’s eyes are wet with overstimulated tears. And mixed with the steady stream of whines that falls from his lips, Jolly is sure that he’s barely holding on.

“Go on, Noah. You can cum.”

Jolly doesn’t get to finish the upstroke before Noah comes undone. His jaw goes entirely slack, body going limp as he spills his load over Jolly's hand. He clenches around Jolly’s hand inside of him to the point where it almost becomes uncomfortable. He keeps working him through it, though, slowly moving his hands inside and around him.

The sighs eventually turn into whines that quickly sound rather pained.

Jolly stills as soon as he notices.

The hand that had been wrapped around Noah’s cock comes to rest against his side, trying to soothe his wired up mind.

“There you go. Did so well.” he speaks softly.

He gives him a few more moments before he starts to ease his hand out of Noah. He winches uncomfortably, face contorting.

“I know. I know. You’ve almost done it.” he keeps his hand on his waist, tracing his thumb across Noah’s skin, “There you go. Do you have a towel somewhere?”

Noah vaguely motions to the chair in front of his desk.

Jolly wipes off his hands first and then moves to wipe the remaining lube from Noah’s thighs and ass.

“You did so good. I know that was a lot.” Jolly says gently, “How are you feeling?”

Noah sighs, finally bringing himself to look at Jolly, “I’ll be thinking about this for a while.”

That cocky grin of his has already made its way back onto his face, and it almost makes Jolly want to demean him a little more.

“What about you, though?” Noah asks, extending his hand towards him.

“Are you up for a little more?” Jolly takes Noah’s hand into his.

Noah nods a little too eagerly considering what they’ve just done.

“Get on your knees then.”

Noah scrambles to follow the order. Jolly loves when he gets like this. He doesn’t even have to tell him what he wants. Noah just sits at his feet and looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes.

Jolly tugs down his trousers, letting his cock slap against his belly. It narrowly misses Noah’s face, not that he would have minded.

“Open.”

Again Noah quietly obeys and opens his mouth just the way Jolly wants him to.

He drags the head of his cock across Noah’s tongue a few times before he grasps the hair at the top of Noah’s head.

“You know the rules?”

He gives a yes best as he can with his mouth open like this.

“Good.”

With that Jolly sinks himself into Noah’s mouth. He gives him a second to get used it before he pushes further and further until he can feel Noah’s nose pressing into the skin of his belly.

Jolly feels him moan around his cock.

“You’re such a desperate little whore for this, aren’t you? Love letting people use like this, hm?” Noah hums around him, “Letting us pass you around like this. Don’t get enough attention on stage?”

Without needing to be told, Noah keeps his hands folded in his lap. His eyes remain fixed on Jolly’s face despite the tears that well in his eyes. Jolly knows that this is a struggle for him, which makes the fact that he’s being good like that even better.

Noah gags around him, but makes no move to ask Jolly to stop.

Jolly keeps pistoning himself into the warm wet of his mouth. He can never get enough of this. Noah is always so willing to let him take whatever he wants, so pliant and pretty.

Their previous activities already had Jolly close to the edge and he knows that he won’t last much longer. His belly feels so taut, mind so wired up. The tips of his fingers tingle. Jolly lets his head tip back, trying to stave his end for a moment longer.

When it begins to feel inevitable, he slows his movements down just a little.

“Where do you want it?” he asks, surprising himself with how breathless he sounds.

The pleading look on Noah’s face gives him the answer he needs.

“Want it all over your face again?”

He pulls out of Noah’s mouth to allow him a verbal response.

“Please Jolly.” he says as soon as he can, still lookin up at him with tear stained eyes.

Jolly keeps working himself with slow steady strokes, although it is becoming harder to keep himself right on that edge.

“Gonna let me take a picture this time? Just for Nicholas. No one else will see.”

Noah thinks for a moment before he nods, “You can take a picture.”

Jolly gives a tender caress to his cheek, “Thank you, sweet boy.”

He works himself a little faster now, intent on reaching his climax. Below him, Noah has closed his eyes in anticipation. It won’t take him much, he’s been close for a while now. Jolly tugs his phone out of his back pocket just in time.

The first spurt of his cum lands on Noah’s cheek. Another one that reaches up to his forehead, across his closed eyes, his tongue. Noah moans when some of it lands on his chin and bottom lip. His tongue briefly darts out to lick some of it up. Jolly smears the last few drops across Noah’s lips.

Jolly can’t help himself. He drags the head of his cock through the mess on Noah’s cheek, making a show of it for the camera.

When he feels like he has enough footage, he ends the recording and tosses his phone onto the bed behind Noah.

“Nick’s going to lose it.” he says softly, while tucks his cock back into his trousers, “Stay here. I’ll get something to clean you up.”

Noah sits back against the edge of his bed, still catching his breath.

Jolly just catches a glimpse of Folio’s door closing – maybe he’ll sned Noah the video too so he can do whatever he wants with it. He’s seen how he looks at Folio and ever since they did whatever they did Folio’s eyes have been lingering on their singer longer and longer.

Equipped with a dampened washcloth, Jolly return tto Noah’s room. He finds him in the process of wiping some of the cum from his cheek. And he’s not surprised when the fingers disappear between his lips.

“You’re fucking insatiable.” Jolly shakes his head.

Noah only snickers in response, fully aware of the effect he has on Jolly.

He kneels down in front of Noah and gently wipes the rest of it from his face. Noah is always a little reluctant with this part. He has no issues with them putting him through all kinds of hinds, but once things take a more intimate turn his confidence shrivels up.

Once he’s done, Jolly pushes up off the ground. He holds a hand out to Noah, helping him up. He doesn’t let go immediately. Noah resists a little when Jolly crowds into his space and ushers him knot the mattress.

He has to force Noah into aftercare most of the time. This time he eases into his embrace a little easier.

“How are you feeling?” Jolly asks quietly, combing his fingers through Noah’s hair.

“Tired. A little sore. It’s all good though.” Noah replies, sounding rather sleepy already.

“Was a lot, hm? You did very well though.”

They both fall silent for a long moment. Noah’s breathing slowly regulates and Jolly thinks that he’s a few moments away from falling asleep.

He debates asking him about Folio, but ultimately decides to leave that for a different day. Noah is so calm that he doesn’t want to disturb him.

“You gotta show, Noah.” he says eventually, “Get cleant up and then you can take a nap. Thought we could order something in and watch a movie together later?”

Noah gives him a sleepy nod, before he heaves himself out of bed. He has the decency to pull on a pair of shorts on is way to the bathroom.

The movie is good, but Noah’s mind is entirely occupied by the video Jolly had sent him while he’d been in the bathroom earlier. He doesn’t know how often he has re-watched it since. Seeing himself lie this makes him shiver. The portion where Jolly rests his cock on his cheek makes him feel especially fuzzy around the edges. There’s something so demeaning about it and if he’s honest he loves it.

Noah pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. He has the brightness turned down all the way, but the thumbnail of the video still stands out of the prominently.

His finger hovers over the send button. A part of him wants to keep this a secreet. On the other hand, Noah is desperate to know how Folio will react to it. Jolly had given him permission to share it with whoever he likes, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it.

He presses send before he can change his mind again.

Folio doesn’t react in any kind of way and Noah realises that he doesn’t even know if he has his phone on him. He tries to push the bubbling anxiety down as best as he can. He’ll get his verdict eventually.

It’s not until they’ve all said their good nights and Noah is getting ready to crawl into his bed that he sees the read indicator pop up on the message.

His heart pounds in his chest as he freezes up listening for any sign of Folio approaching. A moment later he hears a door open and close. And another moment later a knock sounds at his door.

Nick opens the door without waiting for his reply. His cheeks are flushed adorably pink, but as sweet as it is to see him flustered like this, Noah does not miss the hint of jealousy that linger just beneath his skin.

They stand in a silent staring match for a long while. Noah doesn’t know where this is going.

“Nick I –” he starts eventually, unsure of what to do or say, “I shouldn’t have sent that. That was a dumb idea.”

Nick shakes his head, “Tomorrow evening. Jolly and Nick are meeting up with some people.”

“You want –”

“What? Do you think you can send me that without me wanting to see it in person?”

Hearing Nick so assertive sends a shiver down his spine and all Noah can do is nod.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” with that Nick makes his departure, leaning Noah standing in the middle of his room.

He doesn’t know what he expected to happen when he sent the video but it certainly wasn’t this.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderla

#noah sebastian x jolly karlsson #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #jolly karlsson fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens smut #bad omens fic

50 notes · View notes

tarnishedxknight · 10 months ago

Text

Ghosts of Ivalice Past || open to mutuals

{ This is for an MCU verse for all my muses on this blog. I haven't written up Drace's verses yet, but basically she'd be found some time after Basch, Noah, and/or Ashelia, and is obviously alive, even if Noah has already claimed to have killed her. Working off the multiversal/time theory that people may not have been taken from Ivalice at exactly the same point in the timeline, this version of Drace is from before Noah was ordered to kill her. Your muse could be an Avenger who is part of welcoming the new person, someone who lives/works at the compound, someone who knows Drace from her own time, etc. I tried to leave it as open and ambiguous as possible so that you could insert your muse at any point. Feel free to interject or rewrite parts to involve your muse, just have fun with it! }

"I need not do anything you say," Noah said firmly, remaining in the doorway to his room, his arms folded defensively as he leaned against the doorframe.

"You will regret it if you do not," Basch returned rather seriously.

"Is that a threat?" Noah asked, one eyebrow rising.

"Nay, you mistake me. I mean that you will regret not seeing the reason for the meeting, because it is something of import to you," Basch explained.

"You have no idea what is important to me," Noah said bitterly.

"I know this is," Basch said. He'd heard that his brother had been ordered to kill a comrade of his, one he'd been very close to. Given his estranged relationship with his brother and the bad terms he'd last ended things with... this particular person, he knew he ought to tread carefully. Even so, he felt Noah should be alerted immediately, and indeed, he was being looked for. "Please... come."

Noah sighed, relenting. "Fine. If this be some sort of trick, however... you will regret it," Noah insisted, but he reluctantly followed Basch to the conference room.

"Oh, 'tis a trick, certainly, but that of time and space, not of my own creation," Basch said as they walked.

Noah had no idea what he meant by that, until he reached the entrance to the conference room, seeing various people there, including the Princess of Dalmasca and-

His heart stopped. Fear and shock gripped him. How s this possible?! Had the nethicite finally addled his mind so much that he was now seeing the ghosts of the dead? It was clear, though, that all present saw her too. She looked so disenchanted, sitting at the table in modern clothing and without her armor, but there was no mistaking her. It was Drace.

Noah was having a bit of difficulty in breathing. Grief, shock, confusion, and alarm gripped him swiftly and potently, causing him to stagger a bit. He felt Basch hold his arm to steady him, and he nearly growled as he wrenched his arm away.

Drace's expression changed when she saw Noah. An actual smiled was there where a scowl had been just a second ago. "Gabranth," she said respectfully, nodding to him.

"No..." he said, struggling to process this and blinking as though he feared his actual vision might be somehow tainted. "You... You are dead." Noah broke out into a cold sweat.

Drace chuckled, and the sound of it revealed to those who knew her just how exhausted this ordeal had left her. "Thank you for your enduring faith in me, but as you can see, I am clearly not." The way he was reacting to her, though... was disturbing. He was legitimately upset. Panicking, even. At the mere sight of her. Why? She rose from her chair and slowly made her way to him. "What's wrong?" she asked directly. "Save for, of course, the obvious," she then added, gesturing around the room. Nothing would be right ever again now that they were here in this time, but that could be discussed later. Right now, he was in distress and that needed to be rectified.

Noah couldn't find his words. Swallowing hard, he stared at her, a look of sorrow and guilt on his face. Should he tell her? What would she think of him if she knew he'd killed her on Vayne order? But if he withheld it from her, that would be tantamount to lying to her, and that was something he never did. How was she even here?! Was it really her, or some trick of the mind? Oh, the gods were laughing at him now...

Seeing that his brother was having trouble speaking, Basch tried to help. "There are things you do not know, Your Honor," he tried to say respectfully, but the two Judge Magisters jumped on him the moment the words had left his mouth.

"Silence!" Noah snapped at him suddenly.

"I did not ask for your opinion, disgraced Knight of Dalmasca," Drace said firmly. "Do not think that I have forgotten my promise to you."

Basch fell silent and backed away, not out of fear or because he was intimidated, but because he didn't want to make this situation any worse or risk any escalation that might result in someone getting hurt. His heart dropped to hear that, although Drace had come from a time before Noah had executed her, she apparently remembered the Battle of Nalbina Fortress, and her promise to repay him for the injury dealt to her arm during their duel there.

Ashelia, for her part, stood in a far corner of the room, arms folded, just listening and observing. Finding Judge Magister Drace had left her feeling very conflicted. On the one hand, it was a comfort to have more people of her time here, those who would understand what she was going through. But on the other hand... another Judge Magister? That wasn't helpful at all. She didn't want more Archadians, she wanted people she could befriend and trust. Or... those she already had befriended and trusted, but whom she'd lost. Why does Drace deserve to have her life back, but my father, brothers, and husband do not? she thought resentfully.

#open to mutuals #main muse: basch #side muse: ashelia #alt muse: noah #alt muse: drace

0 notes

saturnznct · 3 years ago

Text

nct dream react to you being insecure while pregnant

➸ note; i hope u amazing people like this <3 i tried very hard not to make this repetitive lol

➸ word count; 4306 words

➸ lucas; aged 1, noah, tengfei, moonbyeol, dalgun, chaeyeon, caihong & chunae; in the womb lol

nct masterlist

➸ warning(s): insecurity, body image

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

MARK LEE

‘Shit,’ you mutter, the sound of your disposable razor dropping in the water prompting you to sigh deeply.

This was supposed to be relaxing.

You’d had a searing headache all day, both from pregnancy hormones as well as chasing after your son Lucas.

When Mark finally came home from work he had ran you a hot bubble bath, complete with a few candles littered around the room.

To make yourself feel better, you decided to shave your legs, but every time you tried to lean over, your bump would prevent you from being able to reach. You were beyond frustrated at this point. You felt terrible, useless and dilapidated. You couldn’t do many simple tasks anymore, your large bump getting in the way.

The door opens, and Mark pokes his head around it.

‘You ok baby? I just put Lucas to bed, thought I’d come hang out with my beautiful babies.’

‘I’m fine,’ you try to mask your irritation, ‘we’re fine.’

‘Good,’ he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead and place a hand on your bump, before walking backwards to sit on the toilet seat.

‘Have you been shaving?’ He gestures to the cherry blossom scented shaving foam on the rim of the bath.

‘Oh, yeah, I was trying but I, uh, dropped my razor.’

‘I’ll get it for you,’ Mark smiles, plunging his arm into the water and feeling around for the razor.

‘Here,’ he fishes it out the water, turning it around a few times to clear it of bubbles before handing it to you.

’Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he smiles fondly, running a hand through your dampened hair, matted with the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead from the hot water.

You notice the way he side eyes your propped up leg, expecting you to resume shaving.

So you try, sitting up and stretching your arm as far as it physically could go. But it wasn’t enough. You could barely reach past your knee.

‘Want some help?’ Mark innocently offers.

For a moment, you stare at him incredulously, before finally snapping and breaking into tears.

‘Woah, woah, what’s wrong?’

‘I can’t do anything anymore! I struggle so much to run after Lucas all day, and this bath was supposed to calm me down, but now I’m even more frustrated because I can’t even shave my fucking legs-’

‘Y/N, it’s okay-‘

‘It’s not,’ you cry, ‘I just feel so useless. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do everything for me. I’m not… I’m not a child.’

‘No I know, I know, and I don’t think of you like that at all. I just want you to feel comfortable. I know how tiring it is to chase after Lucas, and on top of that you’re carrying our second son. You are not useless at all, you’re growing a human. If I don’t do anything to help you through that, then I’ll feel like the useless one.’

You sniffle, ‘do you really think that?’

‘Of course I do. I love you and I’d do anything to help. Now, let me help you shave. And then I’ll give you a massage, and then we can do anything you want.’

‘Anything?’ You raise an eyebrow as he begins gently applying the shaving cream on your legs.

‘Don’t push it,’ Mark flicks water at you, before leaning over to kiss you.

HUANG RENJUN

Renjun is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He can sometimes act like a brat just to get on your nerves, but really he’s an angel when it comes down to it.

When alone, Renjun would always shower you in his affection. He was a cuddler at heart, needing you as close to him as physically possible.

When you became pregnant with your son, his need to smother you with love just doubled. He held you a bit closer at night, would go for extra kisses, would bring home snacks that you wanted most days and overall, his love for you just dramatically increased.

You actually enjoyed it at first, since you were in the first trimester naturally you were extremely sick and hormonal a lot of the time, and Renjun’s affection was comforting.

As time went on, sickness faded away, and you were reduced to irritability and you had no idea where to direct your feelings. Additionally, you were feeling more like a liability, and felt very insecure about bothering anybody.

Sometimes you just didn’t want to be spoken to, you just needed to be alone for a while.

Today was one of those days, you had been somewhat struggling to sleep recently - half due to finding it difficult to find a sleeping position that worked as well as the baby moving around like mad.

Over breakfast, Renjun made you your favourite. You stumbled through the conversation, answering Renjun with short sentences.

‘Baby, are you alright?’ He asks later in the day. Of course he was concerned, you weren’t acting normal at all.

‘I’m fine,’ you promptly reply, not even turning your head to look at him.

‘You’re not. I don’t know what I can do to help but I’ll be in the bedroom if you want to talk.’

You immediately feel guilty. You know in your mind that he really just cares, he’s just concerned, but you just ruin everything.

Why should the man who cares about you most in the world have to deal with your mood swings?

You decide to give yourself a few minutes to try and regulate your emotions and organise your thoughts before talking to Renjun. Your eyes are filled with hot tears that won’t spill, your throat all dry and hurting.

‘Jun?’ You call out as you enter your bedroom.

Renjun is sitting on your bed, his back to you while scrolling through his phone.

‘Hi,’ he whispers, turning around.

‘I’m really sorry,’ you bottom lip trembles, ‘you don’t deserve to be snapped at… and I don’t deserve you for dealing with me.’

‘I understand why you are feeling like this,’ Renjun reaches out and takes your hand, playing with your fingers and fiddling with your rings, ‘but I want you to feel like you can talk to me, and relax around me.’

‘I know I can talk to you,’ you cry, ‘it’s just I’m so sick of feeling like shit all of the time. I hate the way I look, and the way I feel, I just want them to come out.’

‘Oh Y/N,’ Renjun takes you into his arms, rocking you side to side and running his fingers through your hair, ‘you need to talk to me when you’re feeling like that. I love you, you know that. I just want to help support you.’

‘I promise I will next time, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’

‘Let’s have a cuddle for now, okay? I love you.’

LEE JENO

Jeno is a God. As in an actual greek God, formed by Adonis himself.

Even before you became pregnant, you would struggle to understand how you possibly ended up with a man like him. Sometimes it felt like slow torture, the way he’d come home all sweaty from dancing or working out, stripping in your bedroom and coming back in all wet from the shower.

No wonder you were now in the late stages of pregnancy, your long awaited baby girl making her appearance very shortly.

‘You joining me in the shower?’ He asks you, cheeky grin spreading across his face.

’No, I’m fine. I showered earlier,’ you lie.

‘If you’re sure,’ Jeno smiles, pressing a long and sweet kiss to your lips, ‘I love you.’

‘Mhm, love you too,’ you hum, chest heavy as he leaves for your ensuite.

You sigh, alleviating the weight on your chest. What you did in your past life to deserve him, you had no idea.

He could have any woman, no, anyone he wanted, yet he was here with you.

Looking down at your body, you felt the shame and embarrassment burning through your veins. You’ll have so much excess skin once you give birth. Your stretch marks will never go away, no matter how much bio oil you put on. Who knows how long it will be until you fit into your dresses that Jeno loves so much?

You’re lost in your thoughts until the sound of the bathroom door being opened snaps you out of it.

‘Hey gorgeous,’ He grins, hair droplets dripping from his hair dangling over his forehead.

Jeno loves to cuddle. Always has.

‘God, I’ve been looking forward to this all day,’ he collapses next to you, inching towards you and throwing an arm around you, ‘a cuddle with both of my beautiful girls.’

You don’t say anything, trying to ignore his flexing arm muscles against your stomach.

‘How have you two been?’

‘We’re fine. She’s been moving around a lot, so…’

‘Great, hopefully not giving mama too much grief,’ he gently places a kiss on your bump, over your clothes.

‘You want me to go get her a story? You know I love reading to her,’ Jeno offers, referring to all of the baby books you have stocked up in her nursery.

‘No, we’re uh, not feeling it today,’ you pull on your duvet cover, dragging it up to your shoulders to cover your bump.

‘Oh. I was hoping I could talk to her,’ he sounds genuinely sad, missing out on the routine he goes through every night.

You hope he doesn’t notice the fresh wave of tears that form in your eyes.

‘I’m just tired.’

Jeno considers whether or not to push further for a few seconds.

‘Is everything okay? Bad day?’

‘You know I’ll never look like I used to again, right?’ You respond flatly.

Jeno sits up slightly, eyebrows tightly knitted together.

‘What do you mean?’

‘When I have her,’ you turn onto your back, ‘I’ll still have these red stretch marks. And the weight, I won’t lose it for a while-‘

‘Let me just stop you right there,’ Jeno interrupts, ‘there is not one person I would rather spend the rest of my life with than you. I hope you know just how much you complete me, and how much I love you. I don’t care if you have stretch marks, it’s proof that you carried our baby. I don’t care if you have some extra weight- I can’t lie I love your new curves. Anyway, my point is, no other woman will ever come close to you. You’re the woman I married, the woman who’s carrying my first child.’

‘I’m sorry for being so self conscious,’ you apologise, finally realising how silly your thoughts were.

‘Please don’t think anything like that again,’ Jeno gently hovers over you, being mindful of your bump, ‘I love you so much.’

He kisses you, your discomfort melting away.

LEE HAECHAN

‘I love this show,’ you grin, settling between Donghyuck’s legs on the sofa.

‘I know you do,’ Donghyuck chuckles, his water nearly spilling out of the glass as he places a kiss on your cheek, ‘hence why we are rewatching it. Again.’

‘I’m telling you, Breaking Bad is the greatest show of all time!’ You cry, carrying out the extremely tedious task of punching in the show’s title with the remote.

‘I agree!’ he appeases you, ‘now lets watch before the pizzas go cold.’

Your son kicks throughout the episode, squirming whenever you laugh, and kicking through the tense moments.

‘Really, I’m serious Skyler,’ Marie on the television remarks to a pregnant Skyler White, ‘you’re as flat as a washboard. She’s not showing at all is she?’

You know it’s not real. It’s supposed to seem unrealistic, as if she’s some form of unattainable perfection. But you still look down at your bump and feel sick.

You don’t feel like you look great at all. You feel huge, like you’ve gained so much weight. You’ve got about three months to go, so you’re not fully as big as you’ll get, and you’re so incredibly aware of it.

‘You know,’ Donghyuck murmurs, ‘I find you so fucking gorgeous like this.’

‘Like what?’ You ask, oblivious.

‘Pregnant,’ he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, ‘I can’t believe I put that in you.’

You snort at his crudeness, ‘you’re so-‘

‘Sexy? Attractive? Gorgeous?’

‘No, I was going to say you’re so full of yourself. Now you’ve been upgraded, you’re such a dickhead,’ you giggle, weight still heavy on your chest.

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Donghyuck grins wickedly, ‘but seriously. I’m in awe of you. You’re amazing.’

‘I’m so big now,’ you sigh deeply, ‘and I’ve still got three more months. I mean- how big is he? And then I’ll just have all that extra baby weight.’

Donghyuck takes a long look at you, eyes sunken as if he was disappointed.

‘Y/N…’ his voice is also filled with dismay, you imagine the way he would scold your unborn son is exactly the same.

‘I’m sorry,’ you shake your head, ‘It’s just difficult to come to terms with how different I look.’

‘You look beautiful. You’re glowing. I mean, we’re so lucky that we have a healthy baby on the way.’

‘You may think that now while I’m pregnant, but once he’s out I’m just going to be a bundle of extra skin and stretch marks.’

‘Even if you are, you’ll always be the most gorgeous woman in the world to me. No matter what. Because I love you. How can I not love and worship the ground you walk on when you’ve grown and given me the greatest gift ever?’

‘You’re right, I’m sorry for being so stupid.’

‘Exactly, you are being stupid,’ he smirks, prompting you to swat your hands at his face.

‘Dickwad.’

‘You love me.’

‘I do love you Donghyuck.’

‘It’s like I always say, you’re my perfect girl,’ he kisses the top of your head repeatedly, ‘I love you more than anything.’

NA JAEMIN

‘I love you so much like this,’ Jaemin hums one night, as you’re laying on the couch together, watching a movie.

‘Hmm?’ You respond in confusion, the chilled atmosphere of the situation having tired you out.

‘Your bump is so cute,’ Jaemin giggles into your ear, ‘and you’re glowing. So beautiful.’

‘Cute until you see all those red marks,’ you murmur, ‘and the amount of pee that comes out of me daily.’

‘Your stretch marks are beautiful,’ Jaemin presses kisses behind your ear, ‘I love the clear ones. It’s just proof that your body is making enough room for our girl.’

‘I just hate the way they look,’ you whisper, still nodding off.

‘It breaks my heart hearing you say that..

‘I know you haven’t been feeling great recently. I hope you like your little surprise…’

The next day, you wake up suddenly in your bed. You imagine Jaemin must have carried you up after you fell asleep in the living room.

His arms are wrapped around you, breath fanning your neck. Sometimes when you wake up, you completely forget you’re pregnant, and then your daughter turns in your stomach.

‘Ow,’ you whisper, her foot prodding your bladder.

It feels like some sort of sick joke, reminding you of last nights conversation. You try your best to shuffle out of Jaemin’s arms without waking him up, before waddling into the bathroom.

You gaze at your reflection. You’re wearing Jaemin’s biggest shirt, but there’s still a sliver of the bottom of your belly showing. It’s littered with red and purple stripes.

You do your business, quietly leaving the bathroom.

‘Gorgeous?’ You hear Jaemin call out, groggy.

‘Oh, hi,’ you tug down your shirt, ‘good morning.’

‘Morning,’ he rasps, holding his arms out, ‘come here.’

You return to his arms, tensing as he lifts up your shirt.

‘Good morning to my baby,’ he kisses your belly button, massaging the sides of your bump.

‘Like I said last night, I love your bump so much…’ he just looks for a few moments, ‘beautiful. Anyway, I hope you’re excited for your surprise.’

‘You really have a surprise?’ You ask, thinking that maybe you’d imagined his words last night.

‘I do,’ he grins cheekily, ‘now. I’ll make you breakfast, and you go put on your pretty dress, pretty girl.’

A soft kiss to your lips and he’s gone, off to the kitchen.

You quickly get ready, putting on your maternity dress and a small amount of makeup. Breakfast is eaten and digested, then Jaemin is driving, into a fairly vegetated area. There’s nobody really around, the number of cars thinning as he turns down a dirt road.

‘Are you taking me into the middle of nowhere to kill me?’ You quip, prompting him to laugh.

’Nope. You’ll see when we get there..’

He parks the car on the roadside, next to a thicket of trees framing another path.

‘I’m officially a bit freaked out,’ you say, utterly confused.

‘Just keep going and you’ll see!’

Jaemin leads you through the trees into a large clearing. It’s filled with long grass and purple flowers, probably lavender or perennial flowers.

‘At least you’re going to murder me in a nice place,’ you laugh, ‘although red and purple aren’t a nice mix in my opinion.’

‘We’re not here for any of that,’ he wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing the back of your neck and leaving his lips there, ‘we’re here to take photos.’

‘What?’ Your eyes widen, and you turn in his arms so that you’re facing him.

‘You know I got that new camera, the one my mum/mom got me so we could take photos of the baby?’

You know exactly the one, ‘I wanted to take some photos of you. So you can see yourself how I see you. How beautiful you are.’

Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, completely overwhelmed by Jaemin’s gesture.

‘Y/N, I love you so much,’ he traces circles on your lower back, ‘and our daughter.’

‘I love you too,’ you tear up, and Jaemin quickly brings up his thumbs up to your eyes.

‘Don’t cry, beautiful. We have photos to take!’

ZHONG CHENLE

‘Hey pretty girl, are you still wanting to go for lunch?’ Chenle questions as you enter your bedroom.

He giggles manically when you perk up, eyebrows shooting up and eyes widened.

You’d been mentioning for a few days that you had been craving food from your local restaurant. Chenle has been working all week, and this was the first day in a while that he was able to go out. He hated not being able to be with you all day everyday, considering you were pregnant with your first child, a girl. You were both so excited, albeit terrified for her to finally arrive.

The two of you separately get dressed. You’re still in your pyjamas while you brush your teeth, Chenle hovering behind you and kissing your shoulder every so often.

‘Go away,’ you laugh at the tickly feeling, gently shoving him away, ‘go put your jeans on.’

‘Whatever,’ he chuckles, kissing your cheek before disappearing into your bedroom.

He’s practically fully dressed by the time you come in from the bathroom.

Your clothes are already laid out on the back of the chair, a pair of jeans and one of Chenle’s T-shirts that doubled as an oversized shirt on you.

You hadn’t needed to upgrade to maternity jeans just yet, but you weren’t looking forward to the day you couldn’t fit in your favourite pair of Levis.

You starting getting dressed yourself, pulling on Chenle’s shirt. Naturally, you move onto your jeans. You easily plunge your legs into the leg holes, pulling up the jeans that slide up your hips and rest at your waist.

Thank fuck. Now the button.

You manage to pull both sides of the jeans together so that the button and the hole line up. But when you try to slide the button through, it pops straight back out. You try again, but with no luck. The button just refuses to go through, which is the moment you realise. You’re too big for your jeans.

You sigh deeply in frustration, catching Chenle’s attention.

‘What’s the matter?’ He asks, ‘is she kicking too hard?’

‘They don’t fit,’ you grumble, ‘my button. It won’t close.’

‘Oh no,’ Chenle pouts, quite cutely you think, but you’re too busy being upset to swoon over him, ‘baby Zhong is getting quite big huh? Do you have any others that you think might fit?’

‘No. These are my big comfy jeans,’ your voice begins to strain as you start to cry in pure frustration.

‘Oh, no, don’t cry, it’s okay,’ Chenle takes you into his arms, gently tugging down your jeans so there’s less tightness around your stomach.

‘I’m getting so big,’ you cry, ‘I can’t fit into my jeans.’

‘It’s okay, Y/N, it’s just proof that she’s growing healthily and that your body is making enough room for her to keep going. How about you wear your sweatpants? They’re oversized and comfortable, and we can go buy some proper maternity jeans together.’

‘It’s going to be so long until I can wear any of my normal clothes again,’ you sob, falling against Chenle’s chest.

‘It’s ok, we’ll go out before lunch and buy you some beautiful maternity clothes, and you know you’re welcome to take whatever you want from my clothes.’

‘I’m sorry I’m throwing such a fit,’ you begin take deep breaths while Chenle wipes your tears with his sleeve, ‘I’m just so hormonal and it’s so jarring to see myself change like this.’

‘I understand,’ he kisses the side of your head, ‘but I’ll be here to help you with everything, ok? I love you.’

‘I love you too Chenle,’ you look up to kiss the bottom of his jaw, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Let’s go shopping now, ok? I’ll treat you.’

PARK JISUNG

Jisung had no idea how to deal with you. This was brand new territory for him, having no sister to compare this to.

You were pregnant with your first child and about halfway through. At first, it was kind of like taking care of you as if you were sick, holding your hair back and giving you plenty of cuddles and reassurance.

Now you were a lot harder to predict, often crying or becoming aggravated at unexpected moments.

Like once when you were stirring your tea, you accidentally dropped your spoon, which prompted you to go off in a huff into your bedroom and cry in frustration for about ten minutes before acting as if none of it had transpired at all.

‘I’m just going out for a drink with the guys,’ Jisung announces as he picks up his corduroy denim jacket.

‘Oh,’ you try to hide your disappointment despite the fact he had told you this in the morning. You don’t really want him to go, since you feel very much like crap, but you decide not to protest.

He leaves a long kiss on your lips, and a lingering touch on your bump, ‘goodbye my loves. I love you.’

‘Love you too, Ji,’ you mumble, and he leaves.

You feel so self conscious when you’re alone. You’re in Jisung’s T-Shirt and sweatpants, just staring intently at yourself in the mirror. You rub in your moisturiser on your angry stretch marks, nausea swimming around in your stomach.

Why you?

Jisung is the absolute sweetest, so caring and doting even when you’re not so nice to be around. He’s cute, charming and physically very fit, the absolute opposite of you right now.

There are plenty of girls, not bloated, not hormonal, who would jump at the chance to be with him.

Your eyes and body feel so heavy, and you decide to rest your eyes for a few seconds.

‘Y/N, baby, get up,’ you wake up to Jisung gently shaking your shoulder.

‘Why are you on the floor?’ He asks you, holding the small of your back while you sit up.

‘I don’t know,’ your throat is dry and scratchy from sleep, ‘I was just looking at bump and I wasn’t feeling well.’

‘You should go get into bed when you feel tired, silly,’ Jisung giggles, ‘come on, let’s get you into bed.’

Jisung guides you across the room, holding your hand while you climb into bed. Straight away you settle into the pillows, dragging the covers all the way up to your chin to shield your body.

Jisung gets changed quickly before getting in beside you, slinging an arm around you over your bump.

‘Goodnight love,’ Jisung kisses your shoulder.

‘I’m sorry,’ you can’t stop yourself from uttering the words.

‘What?’ Jisung props himself up on his elbow, trying to get a view of your face.

‘I don’t know, I just, don’t want to be a nuisance. And I just… am not the biggest fan of myself right now, and I’m sorry if I take any of my feelings out on you.’

’That… makes a lot of sense,’ he mumbles.

‘Huh?’

‘I’ve just been worried about you, I just want you to be comfortable and happy and not have to worry about anything.’

‘It’s just all these stretch marks and hormones and changes... I just worry that you won’t find me so attractive after all this.’

Jisung’s eyes widen, ‘are you serious? I am so in awe of you for this. I practically worship the ground you walk on. I really should really start telling you that more… I love you so much, okay? Nothing you could ever do could change that.’

‘I’m sorry for being so miserable,’ you murmur, ‘I love you so much too.’

‘Don’t ever be sorry. Come on, let’s go to sleep.’

914 notes · View notes

baubeautyandthegeek · 3 years ago

Text

Here And Now (All She Needs Is You) - Elana Barth/Elizabeth Donnelly

Warnings: Mentions a Gunshot Wound Summary: Set post Surrendering Noah. A lot of fluffy feelings and Donelly being soft for once. Written for part of @sweetprentiss ‘s Spring Has Sprung Celebration Bingo.

It’s quiet when Elana settles into Elizabeth’s bed, quiet and clearly considering her answer to what Elizabeth has asked. Wanting Elizabeth to stay isn’t a good enough reason for Elana to ask her to stay when the woman has a full day in court. She wants her to stay though, the shooting has left her tired and fragile… but she’s still not sure she’s brave enough to ask. “I’ll be fine, just go…” She means the words, even as she curls herself deeper into the sheets and soft pillows, thankful the wound is healing even if it hurts enough she can hardly sleep. She survived, it’s more than some people managed. Johnny D’s death is a small comfort. Elizabeth, however, looking down at the smaller woman, how tiny and delicate she seems, sighs. She can’t just leave her, even if she knows she should. Elana’s sea-colored eyes are full of exhaustion and the way her soft copper hair is mussed and tangled shows she isn’t doing so well. “No… they’ll have to put them off, or Lena can take the cases. I’m staying.” She moves away before Elana can complain, not seeing the small if reluctant smile that crosses Elana’s lips. It’s easy to put off several less significant cases onto family court and other courts, the rest are added to Lena’s load, Lena having had a light day before she called in. Elizabeth is quick to undress again, settling behind Elana in a simple sleep shirt, smiling softly when Elana shifts to tug her arm around her, letting her lips brush Elana’s shoulder, then ear. “Sleep Elana, I’m here now.” Elana shifts in her sleep several times, Elizabeth content to just watch her sleep, then, when Elana’s body shifts to she’s settled almost on top of her, she shifts to brush a soft hand over Elana’s back, waking her gently as her breathing hitches. “Hey… he’s gone babygirl, I’m here now.” They get up later, Elana smiling shyly at the sight of the soft sweats and t-shirt, accepting Elizabeth’s help to dress, following her downstairs slowly, content to curl into her sofa, noting Elizabeth’s smile and returning it softly. She’d always been terrified to admit how she felt, but she had run straight to Elizabeth after the shooting, needing to feel safe. She always felt safe with Elizabeth there. Lena comes by, late, bringing food and supplies, her smile soft at the sight of Elana curled into Elizabeth’s side. “I heard some a-hole shot my little one… you okay Elana?” “I’m fine.” Elana’s smile is softer still as she adds. “Liz is actually a pretty good carer, despite how tough she seems…” “Tell that to Novak…” Elizabeth’s voice is husky and Elana sighs softly. “She forgave you years ago… sometime around finally getting a ring on Cabot’s finger. You know that.” Lena’s smirk speaks volumes even as she excuses herself, kissing Elana’s cheek softly before leaving. “No more getting shot young lady, not if you intend to stay with our Liz…” Elana blushes but nods and smiles, letting Liz close the door before finally leaning up to kiss Elizabeth properly. “She’s right you know…I should stay… forever.” Elizabeth’s smile is softer and warmer than usual but she half-shrugs. “If you really want an old wreck for a wife…” “Hey, don’t talk about my fiancée like that… I love her and I won’t let you call her names. She’s perfect.” Elana’s smirk is gentle even as she adds. “Besides, we have a wedding to plan.”

#iv's spring writing challenge 2022 #law and order svu #elana barth #elizabeth donnelly #barthelly #elabeth #I wasn't kidding #my ships are wild

6 notes · View notes

creativefiend19 · 4 years ago

Photo

Thanks for the tag @tinyarmedtrex ! Here’s a selection of Pynch fic recs in no particular order:

Dear Ronan Goddamned Lynch by kiiouex - G

Adam makes no friends at college, Ronan has destroyed his cellphone, and now their relationship hinges solely on UPS. ( @kiiouex has also written this second person D/s Pynch fic that’s spot on: “You’re so weak” “Just for you, Parrish” -phew!)

Mouth Open (1-2-3) by flightspath - E

Adam takes it in, looks at Ronan’s open face again. There’s a flush of sweat beading at his hairline, and Ronan’s brow is smooth and unfurrowed. He looks peaceful. He looks filthy. He’s holding his mouth open, soft and wanting (pitch perfect super-hot Pynch D/s by @flightspath)

Like a Lung by Seek_The_Mist - E

CDTH spoilers: A meeting, too much love to spare, and what happened between an evening and a morning. (The excellent dorm room visit porn we all deserved after the CDTH excerpt killed us with the bloody murder crabs. Everything by @seekthemist is excellent - but esp the Spy AU chapter and kinky Tumblr prompt fills are so fucking H O T)

grow me a garden of roses by kanzentai - T

In which Adam's a florist, Ronan dreams, Noah plays (a very bad) cupid, and everything smells like flowers. (An absolutely lovely and romantic Florist AU fic by @aobaba )

impossible, inevitable by witchadamparrish - T

(...Or, my response to the prompt then there's tongue, where Henry thinks Adam and Ronan are boyfriends, so obviously they have to kiss to prove him wrong) @mericatblackwood has written one of my fave Pynch first kiss fics. They have more great Pynch reads.

Wondrous Hypotyposis by DubiousSparrow - T

Adam has always made lists to get through life. But the longest list is new. He adds to it frequently. He reads it every night before he goes to sleep. It’s his Ronan list. (This fic almost killed me. This author’s River Town AU is one of my fave places to escape to)

there were two gods in this church by CigaleDesNeiges - T

Ronan worships like he loves, and loves like he worships. (Beautifully poetic, and skating the edge of certain topics that really interest me ^^)

I have Loads more fics I love - I should totally do this again. This was so much fun! (Tagging anyone who feels like reccing stuff)

NB: I tracked down the fanartist! I’ll post just the art separately, with their permission.

Art Credit: Ilse @mortedartur

#TRC #Pynch #fic recs #pls help me credit this artist

193 notes · View notes

anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S2 01 | Omega

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1802

Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, injuries, blood, angst, swearing (always).

"Seriously? Come-" Stiles started hitting the spending machine that was placed in one of the halls at the hospital. He has spent all weekend waiting to be able to see if Lydia was feeling any better. He also stopped at the McCall house a couple of times, asking about my stitches.

He pressed his face against the spending machine, trying to shake it, so the snack he paid for would fall as it got stuck. I chuckled, his attention going back at me. "I'm gonna go check on Lydia. Don't break the machine, Stilinski." I pointed my finger at him. I had decided to stay at the hospital with Stiles. Someone had to take care of him while he was taking care of someone else.

I entered the room she was assigned, but there was no hint of Lydia laying down on her bed. I heard the water running and decided to stay outside the bathroom, giving her space. But also ready to go inside if her injury started throbbing. I quietly waited, chewing on my lower lip.

I heard her cough and decided to get closer to the bathroom door. "Lydia? Uhm, it's me Y/N." I expected an answer that never happened. I heard the water being splashed, she was whining.

"Lydia? Do you need help?" Again, no answer. I settled to go inside. The curtain was moving while her whimpers got louder. "Lydia!" I slid it. The water was red due to her wound. I followed her gaze, noticing that there was hair, lots of hair. Someone or something was messing with her mind.

I grabbed her arm. She glanced at me, eyes full of tears. "It's okay," I whispered, grabbing a towel to cover her naked and freezing body. "There's nothing." Or so I thought. Two bloody hands came out of the bloody water, one grabbed Lydia's right leg while the other pulled me in. I could hear Lydia's screams, even though my head was under the dirty water. The hand was grabbing me forcefully, not letting me go. "Breathe." A wicked voice echoed inside my head.

When the hand let me go, I didn't have time to properly breathe. Lydia was climbing out of the window, completely naked. "Lydia, wait!" I followed her.

Noah Stilisnki studied Lydia's dad, hoping that he would give a better description of his one and only daughter.

Stiles nervously interrupted their conversation. "Y/N is (y/h), her eye color is (e/c), skin color is (s/c). Her hair is (h/l) and (h/c)." He didn't take a breath. "Lydia is 5'3", green eyes, fair-skinned, and her hair is actually strawberry blonde." Noah stared at his son. He would expect him to know all that about Lydia as he has had a crush on her for so many years. But he was astonished at him noticing Y/N in the same way he noticed the Martin girl. "Also, black fitted jeans, black boots, and a bumblebee yellow hoodie. It's my favorite I've seen on her." Stiles gazed at his father. "That is what Y/N was wearing. Ahm, her hair was down, it's always down."

"Is that right?" Stiles nodded. The sheriff grabbed the back of his son's neck, moving him away from Melissa and Lydia's dad. "What the hell are you still doing here?"

"Um, providing moral support?"

"Uh-huh. How 'bout you provide your ass back home, where you should be."

Stiles bit his lower lip, glancing at his dad from the side of his eye. "Okay, I can do that too." A little sigh escaped from his mouth.

"We're gonna find her, so don't worry."

"Her?" Stiles stopped. His father looked at him, puzzled. "You said 'her'? Referring to who? To Lydia?" His dad nodded his head, not realizing what his son was trying to say. "What about Y/N? She is also gone. You need to find her too because-"

"Stiles." He intervened. "Of course, we are gonna find both girls." Of course, they were going to do so. Noah has used 'her' because he thought Stiles's mind was worried about Lydia. That kid could be a little blind when Lydia Martin was near-by. "We will find them."

Stiles got into his jeep, holding Lydia's hospital gown tightly between his fingers. Closing the driver's door, he extended his arm to hand Scott the gown. It was so he could have Lydia's scent and find her. He looked at his wrist, taking off the hair tie. "It's from your sister." He coughed. "She left it here the day we saw Jackson with Chris Argent. I intended to give it back to her, but I forgot." He looked at Scott deeply in the eyes.

"She isn't my sister," Scott whispered, even though he felt like it wasn't the most designated situation to say something like that. "And, she lives in my house so I have her clothes there." He desired to let him know that he didn't need to give the hair tie to him. "We will find them, Stiles." He grabbed his friends' arm. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt Lydia. Not again." The Hazel-eyed boy got mad. Why was everyone centering in Lydia? He wanted BOTH girls to be found. Not just Lydia, but Y/N too. He still needed to thank her for saving him from Peter Hale, and he wanted to apologize again for what happened at the dance.

Stiles turned the engine of the jeep on but was stopped when he saw Allison at the front.

"What are you doing here? Someone's gonna see us." Scott asked his girlfriend when she got closer to the window.

"I don't care. She is my best friend, and we need to find her before they do." She referred to Lydia, again. Stiles tried not to jump and say something that could sound rude. "And I don't know much about Y/N, but I care about her too."

"I can find them before the cops can."

"How about before my father does?"

"He knows?" Stiles was getting even more anxious. Then, he remembered that Chris Argent was the one that hit Y/N's head the night of the dance. That asshole gave her seven stitches. He also knew that Chris Argent wanted to hunt Y/N.

"Yeah. I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

"Search party."

"It's more like a hunting party."

"Get in," Scott called out to her.

"All right, but if both of them are turning, would they actually kill them?" He wasn't sure if Lydia would turn, but he knew she was something. The same thing was happening with Y/N.

"I don't know. They won't tell me anything. Okay, all they say is, 'We'll talk after Kate's funeral when the others get here.'"

"What others?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me that yet."

"Okay, your family's got some serious communication issues to work on." He screamed the following words. "Scott, are we going the right way?"

Scott's face was out of the window, trying to smell Lydia and Y/N's scent. "Take the next right!"

"Hey, you know, maybe they're just here for the funeral. I mean - what if they're the non-hunting side of the family? There could be non-hunting Argents. It's possible, right?" Stiles was hiding behind a statue in the cemetery, Scott by his side. Both of them were trying not to be seen by the Argent family who was mourning the death of one of their members. Of one of their killers.

"I know what they are. They're reinforcements."

Both of them were shocked when they were grabbed by their collars. Scott was a wolf, but nobody could hear Noah Stilisnki capturing his prey. "Ah. The two of you. Unbelievable. Pick up my tie." He told Stiles, teeth clenched against each other.

"Got it. Sorry. I know, I'm supposed to ask."

Both of them were now sitting on the back seat of the sheriff's car. "1-5 Adam." The radio they used to communicate with each other emitted the sound of another agent.

"I didn't copy that. Did you say 4-1-5, Adam?"

"Disturbance in a car." The hazel-eyed-boy whispered to his friend.

"They were taking a heart attack victim - D.O.A. But on the way to the hospital, something hit 'em." After Noah asked if the ambulance was hit, the man continued giving information about the events that had occurred. "Copy that. I'm standing in front of it right now. Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere."

"All right, unit 4, what's your 20?"

"Route 5 and post. I swear, I've never seen anything like this."

"All right, take it easy. I'm on my way. Now, as for you two-" When he turned around, the doors were open and both teenage boys had disappeared from the backseat of the car.

"Just-" Stiles tried to give a reasonable answer to his father. Of course, after hearing him talk with one of his coworkers on the radio, he had to come to the place himself. He needed to know if one of the girls had been the one transforming and hitting the ambulance. To his surprise, there was a man inside the vehicle, everything full of blood. Stiles gazed towards the bushes as he thought he had seen something move. "Lydia? Lydia? Lydia!"

Lydia wasn't naked. She was wearing a bumblebee yellow hoodie. He knew that hoodie. He knew that it was the one that Y/N was wearing before disappearing.

Noah paced gradually towards Lydia as she seemed to be in shock, her hair a complete mess. However, Stiles ran to her. "Lydia, are you okay? Where is Y/N?" His hands were delicately settled on her shoulders.

"She needs help." Lydia was quivering uncontrollably. The hoodie she was wearing was wet, Stiles was hoping that Y/N gave it to her so she wasn't naked. "Y/N needs help. We all need."

The sheriff put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Stiles, let the paramedics check her."

Said boy was going to disrupt his father when Lydia pointed to the bush behind her. Noah didn't let his son take another step forward, he slowly got closer to the bush that a couple of seconds ago Lydia Martin had pointed. He didn't expect what he saw. "We need paramedics here too. Fast!" A group of paramedics started operating towards the bush, while one of them took Lydia to one of the ambulances to make sure she was safe.

Stiles walked to the bush, he tried to see what was going on but the paramedics were making it difficult for him. Until he saw Y/N unconscious. Nose and ears bleeding.

What Stiles didn't know is that someone else in the other part of Beacon Hills was trying to sleep. Body full of sweat. Napkins were full of blood.

Jackson Whittemore.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker -

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

315 notes · View notes

happyandticklish · 4 years ago

Text

Smile, Parrish

Notes: Based off the anon suggestion for Noah & Adam tickles, because the prompt was too cute not to write.

Summary: Adam is working himself too hard yet again, and Noah decides to give him something else to focus on.

“What are you doing?”

Noah’s voice, spoken softly and suddenly over his shoulder, startled Adam out of his earlier intense concentration. Having been dead for several years now, the former had the eerie quality of near silent footsteps that made it too easy to sneak up on others. Adam glanced down at the mess of papers in front of him, math homework he had been putting off for a while now, what with the sudden increase in Gansey’s quest for Glendower. Now though he only had tonight to finish it and he had been staring at the same problem for almost an hour by that point. Adam sighed, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it a bit too harshly, frustration catching up with him.

“Nothing. Homework.”

“Homework?” Noah repeated, peering over his shoulder. With his face so close, Adam could feel his breath on the back of his neck and he instinctively drew his shoulders up. “Maybe I could help?”

“No,” Adam said too hastily, then repeated in a calmer tone, “I mean, no, no thank you. I got it. I just need to finish this last problem and then I’ll be done.”

Noah wrinkled his brow. “It looks like you’ve only done one problem, thus far.”

Adam glared down at the worksheet, hating the truth of that statement. It was late and his brain wasn’t working. He was supposed to be staying the night with Ronan but instead he was sitting here doing homework while the other lay passed out on the couch, after falling asleep waiting for him. Gansey, the other resident of Monmouth Manufacturing, was experiencing one of those rare nights where the insomnia waned and allowed him to finally get some rest; Adam had considered waking him up earlier, as Gansey was much better at the subject than him, but the other needed sleep and Adam could get by without him, if needed.

Noah didn’t sleep, and thus was the only one awake to witness Adam’s outburst of exhausted annoyance. Noah took in the look on Adam’s face, the dark circles under his eyes, the sweat sprouting on his forehead from concentrating too hard, the clench of his fingers around his pencil. “You seem exhausted.”

“I’m not,” Adam snapped, trying to ignore how every time Noah spoke that close to his neck it sent goosebumps prickling across his skin. “I’ll be fine, Noah. Just go to bed, or go do… I don’t know, whatever the fuck you do at night.”

Noah frowned. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“Look, I’m sorry okay, I wasn’t trying to—can you stop breathing on my neck, please?” he huffed at last, his shoulders nearly parallel to his chin by now. “It tickles.”

Noah’s eyes widened as though he had been unaware of his actions, and he stepped back a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” As he watched Adam lower his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck, an idea occurred to him. Possibly, this could go very wrong. Possibly it would be just the thing Adam needed. Noah was willing to risk it regardless.

Adam had returned to his work by now, either assuming that Noah had left already or would soon leave. With that creeping silence that made others around him nervous, Noah managed to move behind Adam. He reached out hesitantly with one hand and wiggled gentle fingers against the back of the other’s neck.

The reaction was instantaneous. A yelp, followed by Adam’s head slamming backwards in an attempt to trap Noah’s hand. “Shit! Ah, Noah, that tihickles!”

“I know,” Noah agreed simply, moving closer and using his other hand to torment the sides of his neck, so that no matter which way Adam twisted he couldn’t escape him. “It was supposed to.”

“W-Well stop thehehen!” Unwilling giggles were pulled from Adam with each twitch and scrape of those nails against his skin. His neck had always been abnormally ticklish, and when combined with Noah’s eternally cold ghost fingers, he found himself quickly forgetting all methods of defense. He chose instead to simply squirm and cover his mouth with his hands, trying to prevent the involuntary noises.

“This is for your own good,” Noah informed him, smiling a bit at the sight. “I read an article somewhere that said tickling was good for mental health. If I tickle you, maybe you can finally relax and stop stressing out so much.”

“Thahahat’s s-soho stuhuhupid!” Adam spluttered, reaching a hand back finally and attempting to slap him away. Noah merely danced his fingers out of the way, easily avoiding his grasp. “Ihihi cahahan’t rehehelax ihihif yohohou’re tihihickling mehehehe!”

“Is that not relaxing you?” Noah inquired innocently, fluttering his fingers over his ears and prompting a shriek from the other.

“Nohohohoho!”

“Hmm…” Noah mused, eyeing his ribs which were exposed on either side of the chair. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong then. I’ll try somewhere else.”

“What do you mean—ahaha, shihihit!” Adam’s confused reply was cut off as hands dug suddenly and vigorously into his sides, vibrating into his lower ribs. “Nohohohoah!”

“What?”

“Thahahat reheheheally tihihihickles!”

“Does it?” Noah replied brightly, happy at his accomplishment. “Good.”

“Nohoho!” Adam denied, giggling ecstatically in a way Noah had never seen him laugh before. “Ihihihit’s nohohot gohohood!”

The strangest thing about being dead that Noah had found, aside from the fact itself, was how his emotions were often muted. He could feel the vague stirrings of happiness or anger, and the pull of grief, but it was almost like an echo of reality as opposed to the true feeling. There were moments, however, moments when significance made the echo more solid, anchoring the feeling to him. As he watched strange, annoyed, bookish Adam laugh like this, more a boy now than he had ever been allowed to in his childhood, he felt the gentle glow of happiness settle in his chest.

“You should smile like this more,” Noah said in his abrupt, honest way. “I know the others think so, too. It makes you seem less scrunchy, more—open. I like open Adam.”

Adam flushed, the compliments only working to fluster him more. “W-Wehehell, ohohopen Ahahadam cahahan’t tahahake muhuhuch mohore ohohof thihis!”

“Bullshit.”

Hands grabbed his wrists suddenly, pulling them far above his head and thus taking away what little defenses he had. A quick glance upwards told him the hands belonged to Ronan. Evidently he had been woken up by Adam’s laughter, which, to be fair, was entirely not his fault. His gaze was met by a taunting grin that had Adam’s heart stuttering in his chest. It was truly unfair how with a simple glance Ronan could unravel Adam completely.

“I happen to know,” Ronan said, enclosing his wrist in one arm so that his other hand was free to poke and scratch at the upper part of his armpit that always had Adam shrieking. “That you can handle much more than this.”

“Trahahahaitor!”

“I also happen to know that you don’t hate it as much as you claim.”

“Really?” Noah asked curiously, peering down at Adam. “Do you like being tickled?”

“Yohohou guhuys ahare sohoho mehehean!” Adam protested, arching back as Noah’s fingers closed around the sharp bones of his hips.

“Don’t listen to him, Noah,” Ronan said. “He just needs a bit more provocation to admit it. What do you think?” The question was directed at Adam. “Do you want me to show him what it takes to make you admit it?”

“No, no, Rohohonan, noho!” Adam protested, his giggles becoming nervous and anticipatory. “I k-knohow whahahat yohohou’re gohonna dohoho, ahahand ihihit’s nohot fahahair!”

“Don’t be a child, Parrish.” Ronan handed over his arms to Noah, who accepted them cautiously but firmly after a glance from the former. Ronan leaned down, resting his hands calmly on each of Adam’s knees. Every once in a while he would twitch or curl his fingers lightly, causing Adam to jerk away from him with a strangled yelp.

“Don’t,” Adam warned him, trying to make his voice serious despite his growing smile. “C’mon, seriously, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Ronan asked innocently, turning his hands so that his thumb just brushed against the place on the inside of his knee, his fingers curled against the bone on the other side. Adam tensed, sucking in a sharp inhale of breath. “Can’t handle it?”

Adam waited in heart-stopping anticipation, his smile a flushed grin now. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Adam shrieked as both his thumb and fingers dug in suddenly sending shocks of feeling scurrying up his legs. He twisted in his chair and tugged hard at Noah’s grasp but was unable to free himself. He kicked his legs out wildly, but no matter which direction he pulled Ronan’s hand followed him, insistent and oh-so-devastatingly ticklish.

“RoHOHOHohonan!” Adam squeaked, head thrown back in wild and uncontrolled mirth. “Plehehehease! Dohohohon’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“Tihihihickle mehehehe!”

“If you insist.”

“WahAHAHAhait nohoho!”

As Adam fell into another round of helpless laughter, Ronan shook his head incredulously. “I still don’t know how you fall for that every time.”

“He’s quite beautiful like this,” Noah said, tilting his head to one side. Ronan threw him a quick glance, eyebrows drawn down in careful discernment, but after realizing the comment was meant in simple honesty he allowed himself to agree. “How come I never realized he was ticklish?”

“Foolish Noah,” Ronan said, pinching his way up and down his knees and delighting in Adam’s hiccupy squeaks. “Parrish is far too prideful to admit to something as human as being ticklish. It’s why you have to force it out of him. It’s the only way you can help him be true to himself.”

“Nahahat hehehelping!” Adam screeched, managing to clip Ronan on the shoulder with one foot. Ronan winced, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Shouldn’t have done that.”

He grabbed Adam’s leg suddenly, pulling it out taut and revealing the sensitive underside of his knee. Adam’s eyes widened and before he could protest nails were scratching over the spot, leaving him in a fit of giggly hysterics. “Stahahahahap!”

“Will you admit that you love it?”

“Ihihihi—” Before Adam could answer in another denial, he felt the soft fluttering of fingers against his neck again, Noah evidently feeling left out of the fun, and he scrunched his shoulders up desperately. “Ohohokay fihihihine! Ihihihi lohohohove ihihihit!”

“What do you love?” Ronan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Beheheheing tihihickled! Ihihi l-lohohove beheheing tihihickled!”

“And will you take a break?” Noah added, scratching behind his ears and pulling a frantic squeak from the other.

“Whahahat? Thahahat wahahahasn’t pahahart ohohof thehehe deheheal!”

“It is now,” Noah said happily, though he did admit he would be a bit disappointed to stop. It was nice seeing Adam like this—carefree for once in his life. “So?”

“Fihihine! I-I’ll tahahake ahaha breheheak!”

“That’s all you had to say.”

Ronan and Noah both released him and Adam slumped back in the chair, breathing heavily. “You guys suck.”

“You love it,” Ronan teased.

“What’s going on out here?”

They all whirled around to see Gansey, illuminated by poor lighting in the doorway, rubbing tired eyes. He blinked at the scene in front of him, Adam’s flushed, giggly countenance and Ronan and Noah’s triumphant one. Noah had froze at the sight of him, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Ronan merely sat back on one hand, a confident, lazy grin stretching across his face.

“Hey Dick,” he said, emphasizing the word in a way that implied a capital. Gansey frowned, as he had expressed many times in a variety of expressive words his distaste for the name. “We were just getting Adam here to smile. He needs to relax more.”

“Oh,” Gansey said, before pausing as confusion set in. “Wait what? Smile? How?”

Ronan’s grin inched wider into something dangerous and he stood up, sauntering over to the other. “I’m glad you asked, oh Gansey, my king. Why not let me show you?”

The room was soon filled with the sounds of laughter once more and in the chaos of it all Adam managed to gather his books and sneak off to Ronan’s room. His plan had been to study in secret in the sudden distraction of Gansey’s presence. As he sat down on Ronan’s bed, however, he found his head hitting the pillow before he could stop it, and sleep like an unwanted stranger whisking him away.

Maybe he had needed that break after all...

#tickle fic #noah czerny #adam parrish #the raven cycle #ronan lynch #gansey #pynch #richard campbell gansey iii #trc #tickling #fanfic #fanfiction #requests #fic request #not really a request but im gonna tag it as one anyway because who cares

37 notes · View notes

wendystales · 4 years ago

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four

My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.

“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.

The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.

It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.

“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.

“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.

“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.

“So our breakup was real?”

“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.

“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.

“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”

I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.

“Did you and Bethany...?”

“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”

I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.

I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.

“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.

“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.

“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.

Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.

I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.

Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.

"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."

The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.

My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.

Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.

I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!

I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.

Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.

“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.

“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.

“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.

“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.

“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”

“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.

“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.

“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.

“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.

“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.

“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.

My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.

“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.

I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.

“Dad?” I call him once more.

“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.

“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.

“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?

I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.

“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.

“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.

“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.

I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.

“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.

“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.

Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.

“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.

“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.

“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.

My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?

“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.

“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.

He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.

“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.

“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.

“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.

Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.

When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.

“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”

The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.

Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.

“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?

When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.

Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.

“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.

I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.

“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”

I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.

I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.

On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.

I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.

Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.

Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.

"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."

I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.

"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."

“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.

After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.

Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.

“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.

“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.

I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.

I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.

“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.

“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.

She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.

“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.

He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.

“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.

“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.

“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.

“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.

‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”

“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.

“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.

“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.

“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.

Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.

“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.

There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.

“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.

How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?

I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.

“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.

I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.

“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.

“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.

“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.

Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.

“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.

I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.

They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.

“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.

I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.

" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.

“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.

“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.

I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.

“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.

“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.

“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.

I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.

I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.

“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."

“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.

They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.

“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.

“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.

19 notes · View notes

terramous · 4 years ago

Text

you look a little tired, when did you last eat?

a med fic for @crockettmarcel's birthday!! my dearest nova i love u a lot title: sleeping at last - two word count: 1.7k AO3

Notoriously throughout his career, Crockett had not taken too kindly to residents. More often than not, they were annoying and they got in the way. Noah was the exception though.

They’d done a few surgeries so far during that shift, the most recent being Noah’s first appendectomy where Crockett’s main role was just supervising his resident. It’d all gone off without a hitch and Crockett had offered to shout Noah whatever he wanted from the cafeteria but he’d been turned down in favour of returning to the ED.

He was good company and a damn good doctor, not that Crockett would ever admit that to his face. But he was happy to let Noah take the lead on a few evaluations, choosing to just observe him and his process of dealing with patients.

Crockett eyed Noah carefully as he looked over the chart in his hands, he was intently focused on reading the information, even going as far as to poke his tongue out as he analysed the information they’d gathered so far. Crockett had gotten familiar with the younger doctor’s seemingly constant state of high energy to immediately notice when he was experiencing a little too much peace and quiet.

His resident was getting less and less chatty as the shift went on, however.

Throughout his career, Crockett had become incredibly familiar with how to tell when someone was pushing themselves through exhaustion.

“You know you can head home if you want, right? You’ve been on the clock for twelve hours and you don’t have to stay any longer if you’re tired,” he said as soon as the two of them left the treatment room.

“No- No, I’m good. I’m fine,” Noah said, straightening his posture as he smiled at Crockett.

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he didn’t want to push it too hard. “You could always take a nap in the breakroom and I’ll wake you up when I need you.”

Noah met Crockett’s eye and scowled a little. “You never need me.”

“You have your uses.”

Crockett was idly filling out paperwork on the clipboard he had resting on his thigh as Noah chatted his ear off. He wasn’t entirely paying attention to the younger doctor’s ramblings, but he was getting the general gist. Something about comics and planning halloween costumes even though it’s April.

It was just light-hearted rambling and Crockett was happy to listen.

After a while, Noah fell quiet. Crockett assumed probably to catch his breath. But the silence lasted longer than Crockett had ever heard Noah go without speaking.

Maybe Noah had asked him a question while he was only half-listening and was patiently asking for a response.

“Sorry Noah, can you repeat yourself?”

Noah didn’t say anything but Crockett could hear the squeak of his sneakers on the floor as he likely took a step.

“Everything okay?” Crockett asked, still scribbling away at his paperwork.

The silence he got in reply was enough to make him at least a little worried.

Crockett tucked his pen back in his pocket as he looked up at Noah who was still standing a short distance away from him. It couldn’t be more than a few feet between them so it only took Crockett a second to pick up on the weird vibe in the air. “You good?”

As quickly as he had picked up on the weird vibe, Crockett keyed into how off Noah looked. He was just standing there, staring off into the distance.

Crockett followed his gaze to find nothing of significance, it was just the corridor leading to the elevators. He looked pale and Crockett swore he could see a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, it set off the alarms in Crockett’s head almost instantly.

“Are you feeling okay, Noah? Do you wanna sit down for a bit?” Crockett asked again, eyeing Noah carefully.

Crockett was about to ask again or give Noah a poke, but he didn’t have the chance to as Noah dropped like a bag of stones.

There were only a few seconds for Crockett to surge forward and grab his now unconscious resident. Noah was a dead weight in his arms as Crockett eased them both to the ground, carefully setting Noah down.

“Can I get a hand over here?” he called over his shoulder before quickly turning his attention back to Noah. “Dr. Sexton, can you hear me? Noah? Noah, can you open your eyes for me?” Crockett asked as he leant down to listen for breathing.

He could feel Noah’s breath against his cheek which helped to ease his anxiety a little. Now it was a matter of trying to figure out why his resident had randomly collapsed on the floor.

Turning Noah on his side was an easy motion, second nature to Crockett as he kept his eyes glued to the rise and fall of Noah’s chest.

It only took Crockett a careful few shakes of Noah’s shoulder before he was met with a groan and Noah was blinking his eyes open. He had only been out for about ten seconds but Crockett was glad to see him awake and did little to conceal his relief.

Noah looked up at Crockett with furrowed eyebrows as he tried to connect the dots. Crockett offered him a watery smile, a small gesture of comfort.

“Crockett- what?” Noah was definitely still a little dazed and even more confused.

“You fainted.”

Noah just groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Embarrassing.”

Crockett subtly waved off Monique and a few other nurses that hovered nearby. He could handle a little fainting spell. Noah could lie down in the breakroom for a bit until Crockett sorted out someone to take him home.

“Do you think you can sit up?” he asked carefully, voice softer than he used with most, generally reserved only for younger patients who were scared and confused by the hospital and his presence.

Noah just nodded and held onto Crockett, letting the older man do most of the work in getting him to sit up. At least Noah had a firm grip on Crockett’s forearms to anchor himself and make Crockett’s job a little easier.

Crockett kept a close eye on Noah as he eased his resident into a seated position. He watched carefully as Noah almost instantly went pale again.

“Are you doing okay?” Crockett asked, keeping his hold on Noah.

Shaking his head slowly and blinking furiously, Noah tightened his grip on Crockett. “I think I’m gonna pass out again.”

“Okay, that’s alright. I’m just gonna lie you down again, okay?”

Noah squinted at Crockett. “You say ‘okay’ a lot.”

“I miss when you were unconscious, you were much quieter.”

“I mean, I could stand up but you’d have to catch me,” Noah said with a shrug.

“Just shut up and lie down,” Crockett said, rolling his eyes as he eased Noah back down. In a few seconds the colour was coming back to Noah’s face. Lying down: good, sitting up: bad. Looking over his shoulder, Crockett met Monique’s gaze and mouthed a quick ‘gurney?’ turning back to Noah as she nodded and scurried off.

Crockett didn’t even realise that Ethan was there until he was helping to lift Noah onto the gurney. Crockett would have to remember to thank him later, once Noah looked a little less like he was going to keel over.

“You’re not gonna tell April about this, right?” Noah asked as the gurney started moving towards one of the treatment rooms. It was likely that Noah just needed a chocolate bar to come right but no one was going to let him off without a full workup.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Crockett said, shaking his head. “Someone is bound to snitch on you by the time she comes back downstairs.”

“Dr Marcel you’re needed in treatment room three,” Maggie chimed from the corridor, eyeing the three of them carefully before continuing on her way.

Crockett looked at Ethan who gave him a firm nod. “I’ve got him, you can go.”

“I was hounding you to sleep but I should’ve been buying you lunch and a bottle of water,” Crockett said as he hovered in the doorway of Noah’s treatment room. He looked fine now, probably because Crockett had been gone for the better part of an hour but Crockett was vaguely aware of the fact that April was probably plotting his murder for letting her baby brother push himself to the point of passing out.

Ethan had at least had the decency to send Monique to tell Crockett that Noah was okay and not on the brink of death and it was just a matter of him forgetting to eat or drink anything for the entire duration of their shift so far, if not longer.

Noah seemed to perk up at Crockett’s arrival, his eyes scanning for what Crockett was holding behind his back.

“Did you get-”

“Sweet and salty popcorn and an iced tea? Yup,” Crockett finished for him, tossing the food on the end of the bed. He’d at least had the decency to swing by the cafeteria for Noah’s favourite on his way back to the ED.

Noah beamed at him. “I love you.”

Crockett couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow at Noah, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you dying?”

“Nope,” Noah said as he popped a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“He might be but we’ll never know since he won’t let Ethan run any tests,” April said, her disapproval audible in her every word. Crockett had no doubt that if Noah wasn’t currently in a hospital bed that April would smack him over the head.

Noah just rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked a lot younger when he interacted with April and this was no exception. “I’m fine, April.”

“You fainted!” she hissed.

“Because I forgot to eat, not because I’m secretly dying.”

Crockett shrugged. “You can never be too safe, darlin’. Running some tests will just rule out anything of concern.”

“Aw, were you worried?” Noah cooed.

“I do like it when my residents don’t drop to the ground in the middle of shift, yes.”

“See, Noah?” April asked, poking her brother in the shoulder. “You’re gonna break his heart if you pull another stunt like this.”

Noah looked between April and Crockett with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “He has a heart?”

Crockett blew him a kiss.

Noah mimed smacking it away with a bat.

“You’re a menace,” Crockett said, narrowing his eyes.

“Love you too, Croc.”

#chicago med #chicago med fic #idk what im doing #writing*

8 notes · View notes

boitoynamedtroy · 3 years ago

Text

Let’s investigate

Ever since he died that once, Troy has been plagued with nightmares. Most of these nightmares consisting of the moments before the gun went off, some devolving into his unkempt relationship with others, such as Rahzel, Kurloz, Gram, and so on.

It finally reached a breaking point when Troy, in his dreams, had recognized a face in the group of four. The city wasn’t small by any means, but Troy was never much of a recluse either, especially in high school. Of the four men that were responsible for his death, one of them he knew. It took him so long to remember his face and name. Yet, when it does, it hits him like a freight train going down a hill. Noah.

Rahzel had told Troy all the assailants had died by his hand, but Troy had no way of knowing this for fact. He knew Noah from high school. Their interactions hadn’t been that substantial, but leave it to Troy to be the type of person to never forget a person.

After recovering from QUITE a day yesterday, Troy settled at his laptop near noon, searching for Noah’s address. He had only ever been to Noah’s place twice as far as his memory relays. It was enough for him to identify the house’s exterior on the maps app and he prepares himself for the trip.

It takes an hour for him to actually arrive in the right section of the city has he traveled by foot, going through gift shops for flowers and a chocolate gift basket. He hoped his mother was still living there.

By the time he was at Noah’s old home’s walkway, he was sweating. He questioned himself on why he felt he had to punish himself by way of scaling through the entire city when he could just as easily have teleported at the end of the walkway. The question remained unanswered as he didn’t give himself the time to reflect as he rose his free hand to ring the doorbell.

He waits, and looks around. He notes a car in the driveway, so he feels someone should be there! That’s not always the case but- The doorknob jiggling bring his attention right back to the door as a familiar face peeks out through the crack.

“Hello, who are you?” The woman’s voice is quiet, fragile. It leaves Troy’s throat to close for a moment as he collects his thoughts.

“I-” He shuffles softly from foot to foot.

“Are you Mrs. Miller?” He knew she was, but it felt polite to ask, and it seems to get her to open the door the rest of the way. She leans on the inside of the door frame, looking Troy over.

“I am, who are you?” The repeated question isn’t any harder or aggressive. She seems passive, sad.

“I- I’m Troy. I knew Noah from high scho--”

Her facial features descended to sorrow rapidly and his heart ached. This told him all he needed to know, yet she remained composed even in her misery.

“I’m s...I’m sorry, Troy. I- Oh” She finally noticed the stuff in Troy’s arms, “you already know?” The weariness in her words as she’s reluctant to say the obvious makes Troy’s face burn.

“I..I do. I’m very- he was a good kid.” He held out the gift basket and flowers towards her, and watches as she takes them cautiously.

“Troy? I’m sorry. It’s hard still for me to- I’m-” Troy puts up a hand to gently stop her. “I know, We don’t have to talk about it. I know he was in some bad business. He was a good kid-” Mrs Miller stands up taller, blinking a few times in perceived confusion. “Bad business? What do you mean?” Her soft voice slowly disappeared and he could sense aggravation lining her words.

“No, I- I know he was in a biker gang, bu-” His tongue seemed to tie as he became flustered.

“Wait, wait-”

She cuts him off, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My son wasn’t apart of anything sleazy like that!” Now her voice was raised and Troy felt a flurry of different emotions inside of himself.

“Please, I meant nothing bad by it! I know good kids get into bad situations. I wanted to share my condolences.”

Her grief and need to protect her son’s reputation sends her into a fit.

“If you wanted to share your condolences, maybe it should have been the very week he died! I don’t know how you think you know my son better than me or what he was doing, but I’m not going to let you slander my son or my image of him with bullshit!”

Before Troy could get another word in, the gift basket is chucked back to his chest.

“Ouff-- Because I WAS THERE.”

Her pause and him holding his own breath made him realize he made a bigger mistake. He should have just let her go! Fuck. GOD.

“What do.. What do you mean you were there?”

Flustered, he finally bumbles out a sentence.

“..I..It’s a long story..may I come in?”

~~~~~

After Troy explained in as gentle of detail as he could of his memories of that night, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for excluding the fact he knew the person who executed her son. He had to skirt around that detail carefully.

Mrs. Miller dabbed at her eyes with a fresh Kleenex before balling it up and tossing it with the others.

“I can’t say I’m surprised he deviated to something harder than boy scouts.” Her attempt at humor is not lost on Troy, but her sniffling and sighing leave him to keep a blank expression.

Troy sits up straight again, “Like I said, he wanted no part in the chaos of that night. He didn’t go out a murderer.”

She breaks down once again and grabs another Kleenex from the nearly empty box.

“The p-police said he was with this g-group who was shooting someone and who k...killed someone immediately and they said my... my son was a gang member. He-.. He’d have been sent to p..prison even if he didn’t do anything! J-JUST for being w-with them! An associate to murder!”

Troy squinted his eyes, saddened but also- “Accomplice...accomplice to murder- but, I can say from whatever I could see in the moments I was ali- There, I knew he didn’t want to be there.”

Another dab and toss of the tissue and she shudders out a breath.

“Mrs. Miller? I-” She puts her hand up to stop him and looks to his face, her reddened eyes and tire smile nearly breaking his heart.

“Thank you, Troy. I’ll.. Honestly. I thought my son had turned rotten from me failing as a mother. I was so scared that I could have.. done better for him. “

Troy speaks up, leaning forward in his seat.

“No. The times I saw you picking him up and when I visited, you were a great mother. It’s never that easy. I’m so sorry..Sometimes things happen no matter how well you raise a child. It doesn’t mean he’s bad..” The more he talks, the more his chest squeezes and aches.

He finds this the appropriate time to get up from his seat, and Mrs. Miller does the same. She approaches him and is more than a little shocked when she hugs him close, tight. He’s being embraced by a grieving mother, and in that moment, he can only give her one thing, comfort.

His arms wrap around her and he feels her start sobbing again. He doesn’t pull away, not until he’s sure she’s ready.

Would she ever be ready?

#Action #long post #death mention #Loss #This isn't anything too plot heavy #but It's HEAVY for Troy

3 notes · View notes

mihidecet · 4 years ago

Text

Tibi’s MCYT WritingTober, Day 3

I’m back with another fill for @the-only-gamer-gost ‘s list!

Today’s prompt is “Training”, and let me tell you. I actually wrote this yesterday, AND just a handful of hours later Calvin’s video about him training with Techno came out. So that was pog? Go check out the video if you feel like it, Calvin’s really cool He deffo deserves a lot more recognition!! ((Him and Noah too, he’s the MCU organizer and the both of them are really funny))

As always, thank you so so much for reading! <3

"Aim higher!" Calvin's voice calls, easily moving his head to the side in order to avoid the incoming fishhook.

The sun is shining on the training ground, so much so that if he were to look towards the edge of it, Calvin would be able to see it slightly blur, as if steam was coming out of the ground.

Calvin isn't going to look away from his main target though. The currently scowling man in front of him has long since donned his usual pig mask and royal cape, opting for a set of clothing that Calvin can only assume is some kind of farming setup - he's only missing a straw hat.

They're both sweating buckets under the sun, but Techno seems to be starting to grow tired: they have after all been training non-stop for about a couple of hours.

The progress is there, clear as day. Not only in the way Techno is aiming, ready to strike once more with his fishing rod, but also in the quick steps he's taking towards him. Despite his heaving breath, he seems to be flying on the ground, propelled forward by an invisible force.

The fishing hook flies towards him, but it's once again non properly directioned: it's going to land about an inch to his right. There's a split second during which Calvin is about to call him out on his mistake, maybe suggest taking a break because he's getting tired himself, then he realises: it's too off-course for it to be intentional.

A split second later, Techno is right up against him, and he has to bring up his sword to parry a blow to the chest that would have surely winded him.

A loud cheer almost distracts him from the task at hand, but a moment later Calvin pushes against Techno's sword and moves forward for another attack - immediately ready to turn the situation against Techno.

"Shut up, Noah!" He yells out, trying to get his friend to quiet down - Techno had agreed to having a spectator just for the sake of their long lasting friendships, but still they need to focus.

Techno looks to be slightly annoyed that his trick didn't work, so Calvin makes a mental note to compliment him on it later - it's not good to consider him as a good comparison, after all his years of constant battles, and he's gotta be anxious enough about the duel by itself.

It's all about the balance between positive reinforcement and the kicking his ass, he figures as he swipes his leg behind Techno and sends him tumbling to the ground.

For a moment, all is quiet as Techno simply stares at the sky with pursed lips, then he groans:

"Fuck." Making Calvin burst out laughing, sheathing his sword and offering his hand to help him out.

"Come on, potato man, you're doing great but I need a break."

#mcyt writingtober #cxlvxn #technoblade #pikaclicks

32 notes · View notes

weirdochick56 · 5 years ago

Text

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Eleven

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. SMUT. DIRTY DIRTINESS.

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only. Please be gentle on my word-porn.

Word Count: 5, 347 words

A/N: This shit got dirty REAL quick. As I was writing it, I was so fucking confused by what my fingers were typing lmfaoooo. Also this story is nearly coming to an end and IDK what the hell im gonna do after. PLEASE stay safe and healthy y’all!

Read Chapter Ten here!!

***

(gif isn’t mine!)

You take a long gulp of the bottle.

“It’s like I’m stuck, you know?” You say looking off into the water. “Like I don’t know how to exist or move forward or hell, even back.”

Noah, the guy you’d met at the pool, nods in understanding, taking a sip from the bottle. “Yeah. I get that, but your situation is hella complicated. I get why.”

“I guess I just have never felt one hundred percent in it, you know? Like I could never fully let myself be happy because at any moment that shit could burn down. I’ve always felt like someone was out to get us, like all the fucking odds were stacked against us,” you mumble, shivering when a breeze swishes past the dark night.

It’s been a while since you had met Noah and he was a pretty cool dude. You just clicked- it was just like that with some people you know? You just get along from the get-go. You got to talking, slowly downing the bottle in the process of course and the more time ticked by, the more your tongues loosened.

You didn’t like to play into stereotypes or anything, but you were almost entirely sure Noah wasn’t one-hundred percent straight. But maybe that was just you.

You were at a healthy buzz right now but that wasn’t gonna last long at the rate you were chugging from the bottle.

“You wanna be with him?”

You sigh, hating that there wasn’t even a little doubt in your mind or heart at the question. “I do. But I don’t know how to go about it, you know? It’s all just so jumbled for me.”

Noah releases a little sigh, laying down on the cold gravel. “I know right? It’s like you love someone so much but you also know that being with them could be dangerous, no only to you but to the life you’ve built around yourselves individually. So it’s hard between choosing everyone else or your own selfish ass.”

You glance at him, raising your brows. “From personal experience?”

He laughs but it’s a bit strained- dry. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly uh- straight.”

“What?! I had no idea!” You mock gasp.

“Shut up.” He laughs, slapping your arm playfully. “Yeah well, he’s actually the most beautiful human being I’ve ever met. But we’re keeping it on the dL. Neither of our parents is exactly supportive. Mine are still a bit touchy even though they’re starting to tolerate the fact that their son is gay and his- well they have no idea. If they did that situation would go awry real quick.”

You sigh, laying your head drunkenly on his shoulder. “Aw, I’m so sorry Nini.”

He laughs, casually wrapping an arm around you. “Oh? Is that my new nickname?”

You nod. “Yep.”

“You know something, Nini?” You suddenly mumble in a slur.

“What?”

“You’re not selfish for loving him- whoever he is. You’re brave.”

“Yeah? And why do you say that?” He hums.

You take the bottle from his grasp, taking a long drink. When you’re done, you sluggishly wipe your lips.

“Because I’m a fucking coward,” you mumble shakily. “I’m so fucking scared of feeling. I just shut down like a robot,” you confess, quietly chuckling. “I numb myself so that I don’t have to face the reality of it all. You face that shit head-on. You’re staying and fighting for your love. That’s super admirable.”

Noah rubs your arm comfortingly. “Thanks.”

You nod, swishing your feet in the water. “It’s true. I wish I could just be with him.”

“Then be with him,” Noah says, simply.

Just like that. As if it were that straightforward.

“It’s not that easy. There’s so many things to consider.“

“Let me ask you a question,” he quickly quips. “Do you love him? Like really truly love him?”

You swallow harshly, gripping the bottle tightly in your hands. “With every fiber in my body.”

Noah nods firmly. “Then that’s it. And listen, I’m going to be honest because it sounds like everyone in your life has been lying to you and telling you basically all you need is love to make it work. It’s not. Relationships are hard fucking work. Especially if it’s one people will have a variety of feelings on. It takes effort, time, sacrifice and you know where all that comes from?”

“Where?” You pout drunkenly.

“From you. You have to be sure you want it you have to be willing to stay and fight. But you also need love. Without love, there’s nothing. If you’re sure you want to be with him, if you think your love is worth it, then I say go for it. It doesn’t have to be this huge announcement either. It’s your relationship- it’s there for no one else but you two. If you feel comfortable later on, then do sure you can tell people.”

You ponder on his words drinking more tequila, before finally speaking in a defeated tone. “I’m scared.”

He shrugs. “Life is really just one big risk you either choose to take or not. Plus, it’s like I told you; relationships are hard work. You have to keep working at it. Even when it gets hard.” He licks his lips. “He gave an ultimatum and from what you told me, you’re not going to be here for much longer. So not to pressure you or anything, but if there was ever a time to act this feels like it’s it.”

Maybe he’s right.

Needless to say, by the time Noah walks you home, you’re both absolutely hammered. You make sure to call him a taxi because it was late at night and you also make him promise to text you once he got there.

After he’s gone words keep ringing around in your head over and over and over again. And so do Margo’s. In fact, you felt like you were flying on a cloud of thoughts all whirling and detaching and stringing together back again.

You start replaying everything in your head- your whole relationship. From the start to now. Like a movie.

And your heart breaks even more because you realize right there and then that at some point, the movie suddenly stops.

The movie stops.

It hits you that you’ll have no idea how it ends. What’ll happen with you two. Where you’ll end up.

For some odd fucking reason, it makes you feel sick to your stomach to think about it that way, and your skin crawls. If you let him go, you’ll never him know how the movie ends... the thought tortures you slowly to sleep as it goes round and round in your noggin, pounding you with unbearable guilt and anxious thoughts.

When you do fall asleep, though, you have a strange dream that night. Or more like you have a nightmare.

You’re standing in your room and it’s just like it was when you went to sleep that night, except that on the other side, the usual long hallway isn’t there anymore. There’s only darkness.

Your anxiety kicks up because you know what the darkness is without even touching it.

It’s the not-knowing. The pitch-black emptiness which you’re expected to walk into blind. Fucking alone.

You start hyperventilating when the pressure to walk into it becomes too much, thrashing harshly against the invisible force pushing you into it. Screaming, salty tears, kicking...

It’s all too much. Your breathing is labored and your skin burns with hot tears.

And then suddenly and like a warm blanket- two muscular arms wrap around you from behind, tugging you into a hard chest.

Chris, your mind instantly whispers.

He easily tugs you back towards the room, hugging you to his front tightly.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And in that moment of terror, with his familiar scent and soothing voice and tight embrace, he’s safety. He’s warmth and familiarity.

...he’s home. Your home.

You just lay there with him, holding each other.

The next image flashes by instantly and suddenly the darkness is back. But this time you don’t panic...because Chris is right there with you, holding your hand. And for some reason, you know -you’re one-thousand present sure- he won’t let go.

He rubs his thumb softly over your thumb, looking at you with those alluring blue eyes of his, that soft yet capturing gaze that made you feel all fuzzy.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He repeats his earlier sentence.

You wipe happy tears. “I’ve got you too.”

He smiles adoringly down at you, smile lines crinkling endearingly at the corners. “I know.”

And without a second’s thought you plunge straight into the darkness.

You gasp loudly, sitting straight up in bed. Your heart races, thumping harshly against your rib cage as beads of sweat trod carefully down your temple and side of your face.

Click.

Something in you suddenly clicks and it all becomes clear.

Was that all that was needed for realization to hit you? A single moment? A single split second in which the fog clears? A split-second where your vision suddenly elevates and the whole landscape is all there? The whole picture is laid out before you?

It’s early in the morning and you wince when the bright light of an early day hits you in the face, flopping over in bed.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, quickly unlocking it before checking your contacts. You have a new text message. You click on it.

Hey, Hermosa. I got home okay. Thanks for the taxi, lol.

You smile gently, typing back.

Yeah np, Nini. Thanks for the advice. Needed it.

Your phone buzzes.

Ngl, kinda shocked we still remember that. Lmfao. Ur welcome tho.

You groan softly into your pillow when your head starts aggressively throbbing.

Sobriety sucks butt.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Your dad and Kennedy watch you as you haphazardly stuff your face with bacon and eggs then gulf it all down like a dog- brows raised and jaws slack.

Downing your warm coffee in one go, you get up, pushing the chair back with a loud screech and almost trip running over to the sink to put your dishes inside.

“Yes. I’m good. There’s just something urgent I have to go take care of,” you rush out, leaning down over them and giving each a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I love you guys!” You yell, already half outside and still pulling on one of your sneakers as you clumsily hopped around.

You slam the door shut, running off as soon as you finish putting on the shoe.

Your head pounds inside your skull even having downed three aspirins and having a warm shower and your breakfast swishes inside your stomach with your harsh sprinting but you don’t stop.

Not until you reach his house.

You don’t think. Just feel. Feel how right this was. You’re done being scared of loving who you love. You had what you had and it was what it was, but what you had was him.

Chris.

All this time, he said you were his light. You were his angel.

But really he was your light. He was your angel.

You needed him just as much as he needed you- if not more.

Fuck everyone else.

This was yours. He was yours and you were his and you were done fighting it. Officially.

You had the realization that before, you’d always been just the tiniest bit reluctant. You subconscious put up your own walls to protect your heart, never fully allowing yourself to work on your relationship, never fully giving your energy to it.

But not anymore. No more walls. Just you. Just you, your love and a foundation for a fresh start.

You were exhausted- not of life or him or of the curveballs it keeps throwing your way. You’re tired of fighting yourself.

That’s the real fight you’ve been having this whole time. With yourself. You’re your own damn enemy. And isn’t that fucking tiring?

But you’re done.

Knocking loudly on the door, your chest inflated with so many emotions and with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you tug at your short shorts, hating that this was the first thing you saw and threw on.

Unfortunately, the next thing you saw was a short ass crop top so you were basically running around in your underwear.

You freeze out the nerves as soon as they start to set in when footsteps pad your way. None of that.

When Chris opens the door, you nearly fall over.

He gives you a once-over, his hair messy, and dark bags under his eyes. “Sweetheart what-“

You stare at him for a few seconds as does he, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Chris,” you breathe.

But you catch yourself and before you know it, you’re spilling all your damn beans right on his front porch.

You needed to. You had to get this off your chest or you would go absolutely insane.

“Chris before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I’ve been a huge fucking hypocrite. But I realize my mistakes and I-“ you laugh incredulously, looking at him. “I just want to be with you,” you mumble meekly, your voice low.

Not because you didn’t mean it, but because you were terrified of his reaction.

His eyes soften and he opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“No, stop. I just need to finish what I have to say, okay? You were right. You scare me. What we have scares me. But I’m not willing to let you go just because I’m scared. I-” you swallow tears back down. “Being scared isn’t an excuse to let you go. God, I’ve never felt emptier in my life than these past few weeks. Not even when I was gone for two years. At least then I knew I was faraway from you. That I was somewhat safe from all these...feelings.” You gulp. “But being here-“ you shake your head. “Knowing that you’re just a few blocks away- I just want you to hold me, to make love to me, to love me in the way only you know how to.” You chuckle breathlessly. “God, I am so in love with you. Y-you complete me. You make me better- you’re the best fucking person I know. And I know I’ve been an asshole to you, or well let’s be honest we both have, but I guess mostly me- um anyway. I just- I’m here to stay.” You sigh softly, letting the words roll of your tongue like a vow.

“I’m here to stay,” you repeat softly but firmer this time, swallowing thickly at the sweet after taste.

You’re panting by the time you’re done, both thanks to the running and the little speech you just gave, but your gaze never leaves his. Not for the whole five minutes, he just stands there, looking at you with glimmering eyes.

“Chris?” You whisper.

“Say that again,” he breathes.

“Say what?” You frown.

“Tell me you love me again,” he mumbles, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

You smile a little, looking him in the eye. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat breathlessly. “I’m here to stay- if you’ll let me that is,” you add on in a clumsy, sheepish way.

He smirks, instantly yanking you into a hug. His arm wraps around your waist and head and your arms slither their way around his broad back. You melt into him, half with delight and half with relief.

The embrace says all the things you weren’t strong enough to say, it was passionate, warm, loving, fierce. You slid into eachother like to puzzle pieces. Like you were meant to be there- in eachother’s arms.

Chris holds you tighter to him, using your trembling body, which you hadn’t even noticed was shaking, as an excuse you stuff his nose into your hair and press your chest to his.

“I missed you,” he breathed into you- easy as air. A breath he’d been holding for far too long and needed to release.

A breath that, once uttered, made you instantly freeze.

You slowly parted away from him so you could properly peer into his eyes and because you have no idea how much being back with him was going to be for you emotionally.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, tears sprouting from your eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared. I’m always scared.”

He shakes his head at you, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “I get it, sweetheart. I was scared too. But we’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He holds his arms out again, but catches himself before wrapping them around you and pulling you to him entirely, the question clear in his eyes; was this okay?

This embrace wasn’t like the one a few moments ago, this one was cautious because you were walking new ground. A ground that was undiscovered but all the same exciting.

A ground that was the foundation for a new path to happiness. A new beginning.

You simply nod in response, too tired to try to fight your need for his warmth off.

He wastes no time pulling you to his chest- nice and tight and you instantly hug him back, loving the feeling of safety and warmth you felt there.

You realize that no matter where you go or who you’re with, nothing will ever feel like being in his arms. Nothing will ever feel like home. Not like him.

His hold tightens on you- like he’s afraid of letting you go and you tighten your own hold to signify your own heightened emotions.

The buzzing in your skin, the racing of your heart, the flush of your face, the fluttering of your tummy- all the emotions that made you feel like there was endless hope and warmth and good in the world- you missed it all.

You listen to his slightly accelerated heartbeat and nestle your head against his chest. “So we fight?”

He heaves a heavy exhale. “We fight.”

You lick your dry lips, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

He pushes you back slightly, brows raised. “Really?”

You can’t help but smirk a little bit. “I think I still have a little bit more fight left in me.”

You shift in his arms, resting your head on his chest an adjusting the leg you’d hastily thrown over his waist.

After your talk, you’d agreed that a little alone time was in order. So you threw yourselves onto his bed and did what anyone in your position -with unspent sexual frustration and endless simmering desire between your souls- would do and cuddled.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, twirling another strand of your hair in between his fingers.

“Hmm?” you mumble drowsily, drawing a new pattern on his chest with your fingertips.

“Do you love me?”

You pause, brows furrowing. Leaning up on your elbow, you peer down at him. “What?”

He smiles a little. “You heard me.”

“Why do you ask?” You blush bright red.

He chuckles, brushing a hand against your cheek. “Well, I’m not like you, angel. I actually need to hear the words. Again,” he adds cheekily.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, contemplating his face. He was perfect. Even the small dips or indents on his skin. Every sharp and soft line, every curve and dip and area of soft flesh.

Beneath you, his muscles strained against his soft pajamas and his warmth surpassed layers of skin and clothing in order to deep into your bones, warming you entirely.

But that wasn’t what made him beautiful. No.

It was the fact that he was such a dork when it came to Charlotte Brontë and Bram Stroker even when he tried to hide it. It was the fact that for years he put aside his own pain to focus on the futures of his students. The pain of losing his wife.

It was that he looked at you like you were his beginning and his end and everything in between. It was the fact that he was unwilling to relent to everyone and everything telling him he couldn’t have you and that he was willing to forgive you.

It was that he was still here. Still fighting even when everything could be lost.

He wasn’t just perfect. He was authentic. And he was beautiful just the way he was.

You finally nod, whispering lightly. “I do. I love you more than anything in the world.”

You’ve never meant anything more in your life. And it didn’t matter what would happen next because you’d be together when it happen and you’d take it on together. You’d always have eachother.

He beams adoringly, running his hands through his hair.

You instantly raise a brow. “What?”

He frowns at you. “What?”

You chuckle, a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong. Why does something have to be wrong?”

You instantly smile, patting his cheek as you hook your leg over him tighter in order to get more comfortable. “You just ran a hand through your hair; something’s definitely wrong,” you say as if it’s obvious before softening. “C’mon talk to me.”

He looks into your questioning eyes for exactly three seconds before breaking. “Dammit, why do your eyes have to be so big and…shiny? I can never lie to them,” he mumbles under his breath.

You laugh pressing a little kiss to his stubbled cheek. “It’s my secret superpower. Now; spill.”

He sighs, looking down at his hands. “Nothing I guess I’m kind of second-guessing now. N-not of us o-or anything!” He rushes to explain immediately after. “Just-” he sighs again, looking back down. “I dunno. I feel like I’ve been pressuring you. What if this isn’t what you really want?” He gazes into your eyes, concern swimming in his deep pools. “Is it?”

Unable to hold back a snicker you grin lightly at him. “I just gave you an entire speech about how much I want to be with you and you’re questioning it? Bit late, don’t you think?” You joke lightly.

He deadpans. “Y/n.”

You sigh. “Yes, it is what I want. No backing out this time.” You hold out your pinky with a tiny giggle. “Pinky promise?”

He raises a brow at the small finger, scoffing at the notion. “Angel, I’m a masculine manly-man do you really think that I’m gonna pinky promise you? No.”

You wiggle your pinky with a tiny pout. “C’mon!”

He sternly peers down at you (again for exactly three seconds) before breaking down once more, half-heartedly linking your pinky with his and grumbling for a second time about how your eyes were “unfairly adorable”.

You laugh tightening your finger on his, as you gaze into each other’s eyes tenderly. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

He smiles softly, repeating your words back to you with the tenderest look in his eye. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

When you take your pinkie back, he rolls his eyes, chuckling. “I can’t believe you made me do that. I hate you.”

Lightly shoving his shoulder, you place a soft peck on his cheek. “You know you love me. Plus, c’mon, I came looking for you here, I can’t leave without at least a pinky promise.”

He smirks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “You do realize this means I won, right?”

“Won?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. This time, you came for me. So I won.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

He chuckles as you suddenly grow serious.

“You know, I hate that you know me better than I know myself. I can never hide from you,” you whisper as he grips your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to,” he says sincerely, looking directly at you. His dark gaze pierced your soul and your breath hitches, forming a huge lump on your throat. “Not from me. Not ever.”

You shiver under his touch, leaning into him. You bite your lip as you gaze at him from under your lashes. “What if what I’m trying to hide is ugly?” You husk.

He simply smiles, like what you’re saying is utterly impossible. “Then you don’t try to hide it. I want to see it all. Because you know what? In the end, I know it’s all going to be beautiful.”

You can’t keep the damn goofy smile from tugging at your lips as you softly kiss his nose. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you breathe. “I love you so fucking much.”

He pecks your cheek lightly in response, resting his forehead on yours.

“Who are we without scars, without stories to tell? Your flaws make you who you are, angel. And I’ve fallen in love with you. All of you.”

You smile softly at him, your heart thumping loudly inside your chest. “You make me all crazy, you know that?” you mumble.

He laughs, closing the distance between you two and brushing his lashes against yours. “I’m sorry.”

You giggle against his lips, softly moving yours against them as you peer into his darkened eyes and wide blown pupils. “No, you’re not.”

He rubs his thumb across your cheekbone tenderly, tracing your skin like he was afraid you’d break if he pressed too hard or rubbed too much.

“You’re right- I’m not,” he breathes hotly against your skin, playing with your lower lip.

You press your nose to his, pressure building in your chest as you slowly begin straddling him. “Do you want me?”

His other hands grips your other cheek, gaze pinning yours down with ease. “All the damn time,” he responds without hesitation, voice growing deeper and more primitive.

You smirk down at him, forgetting entirely about everything and everyone else.

“Really?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Are you serious? How do you not know what you do to me, sweetheart?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. What do I do to you, Chris?”

Your pussy begins pulsating rhythmically, panties damp at the implication.

He inhales sharply, clamping down on that plump lip. “Shit sweetheart. You want details?”

He seemed startled but turned on all the same.

You bite your lip, feeling your nipples harden under the soft fabric of the shirt and nearly let a moan slip when it rubs against the sensitive nubs as you move.

“Yes. I want you to tell me exactly how much you want me. I want you to tell me how you’ve imagined me before. What you’d do to me if you’re given the chance,” you rasp all in one breath.

As you speak, you grind your down hips on his, enjoying the much-needed friction it created in your sensitive spot.

He clenches his jaw, eyes ablaze with that fire you missed so much.

“Careful sweetheart,” he grits out through clenched teeth, hands dropping to your ass and hips. “If you get too close I might burn you.”

You look him in the eye, knowing damn well your own unquenchable fire was swaying sensually back and forth in your eyes. You wanted him—bad. In fact, you fucking needed him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. Fuck, you ached for the feeling of his cock inside you, claiming you as his. Because damn you were his.

“Then burn me,” you say with full intent.

His eyes snap shut, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n. If we don’t stop right now I can’t promise I won’t fuck you ‘til you’re screaming.”

Your pussy instantly grows wet at his words, pulsating far more aggressively than before as you move your hips faster.

“Fuck Chris. Have you dreamed about me?” You pant.

He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, dick stirring in his pants. “Almost every night,” he admits without shame or hell- even embarrassment.

Than only makes you more flushed.

You lick your dry lips, his eyes following the movement. “Yeah? And what am I wearing?”

He closes his eyes, hands traveling down to your thighs before rising gradually up to your waist, pushing fabric out of the way. You tremble beneath his fingertips and he uses the chance to guide your movements against him, his long fingers setting a rhythm for you to move to.

He hisses with pleasure. “Y-you’re wearing my t-shirt. Only with panties underneath.”

You inhale deeply, chest rising but not falling just yet at the vivid image. “Mhm,” you hum softly. “And where are we?”

“My bedroom. You’re sprawled out on my bed, sleeping.”

You bite your lip. “Are you hard yet?”

“Hell yes,” he breathes, digging his nails into your ass. “I can see your ass from here. All of that for me,” he moans softly against your chest as he adjusts you and his grip on you so your tits are closer to his face.

You arch back at the sensation of having his hard cock rubbing against you from beneath his pants.

“You’re moving around in your sleep and I’m getting harder because you look so damn innocent but sexy all at once. Like you’re just asking me to ruin you.”

You moan against him, accidentally brushing your nipple against his lips in the frenzy of your dry humping.

You freeze for a second, letting the sensation sink into your cells, warming them with electrifying bliss before moaning louder when Chris lightly opens his mouth to take one of them in over the thin material of the shirt.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation and your finger rake through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly as he gently suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling his tongue around it with expert sensuality.

His eyes meet yours as he does this and neither of your looks away as he flicks his tongue back and forth, causing your whole body to nearly overload with bliss.

“Fuck Chris,” you mewl, digging out nails into his scalp.

He stops sucking, using his finger to play with them instead. Your mouth falls open in a choked-up scream as he continues narrating his dirty dream for you.

“Even from there I can see how soft your skin is. How perfect your tits are and how good they’d fit in my hands. It’s torture until I walk over to you and grab one of your ankles gently in my hands…”

“Yes?” Your breath hitches as he hits a sensitive spot.

“And the other one too. Then I slowly part them. I don’t want to wake you yet. Not like that.”

You bite your lip, holding back a moan.

“When I’ve completely opened your legs, I slowly crawl up your body, kissing your legs as I go. When I reach your inner thighs, I slowly lift my shirt up….” he trails off, his thumb softly grazing your sensitive nub.

Your head flies back at the sudden jolt of pleasure it sends up your spine. “Shit Chris,” you groan.

“I start leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your soft skin. You’re shifting in your sleep, growing wetter, but you still haven’t woken up. Finally, I kiss your pussy.”

At the words coming out of his sinfully soft mouth, you feel your stomach clench, mouth capturing a silent scream and swallowing it back down.

He keeps you moving against him, his fingers gripping your thigh and his thumb working soft circles into your now soaked panties.

You gyrate into his hand rhythmically, fully concentrated in how good he felt.

“Uh-huh,” you finally grit out.

He continues speaking, voice strained and tone nearly drowned out entirely by animalistic frenzy. “You slowly peel your eyes open as I’ve begun flicking my tongue over your clit back and forth.” He copies the motion he describes with his thumb, smirking viciously when you nearly fall over him.

“I’ve been doing it over your sheer lace underwear this whole time, but when you are finally awake, your smell and your taste become too much for me to handle. You intoxicate all my senses sweetheart. I just want you on my tongue. I want you to ride my face until you cum in my mouth.”

And that’s all he needs to add to his jerky thumb movements for you to cum. Hard.

As if he can sense that you’ve reached a climax, he watches you with hunger, drinking in the sight of you coming all for him. “That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me. All for me. Fuck, Y/n.”

You convulse, cursing like a damn sailor into his mouth. “Fuuuuck Chris!”

When you’re done, you slouch against him.

He hugs you to him and the rumble of his laughter travels through you, causing your sensitive insides to tremble. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You lift your head carefully. “Yes.”

He smiles. “Good. Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to make love to you.”

“Oh.”

Read Chapter Twelve here!!

***

The flashbacks to Mr. Evans I are real. Omfg.

I’m literally in love with him.

A special thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicola-is-my-brand-man

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@emmarogers222

@sashimi-cat

@zofty15

@gemgemswift

@fafulous

@chljmntgy

@thatssograce

@leclerc-stan

@colddsalsa

@evansislife

@chris-butt

@captainchrisstan

@marvels-gurl

@davestridersrightnipple

@agirlcanstilldream

@notbexmader

@ib-ebe

@byrogers

@theangrylizard

@oh-hey-janina

@mannatgalhotra

And My forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

@tomshelbystits

#Chris Evans #chris evans au #teacher au #teacher!chris evans x student!reader

172 notes · View notes

madpanda75 · 5 years ago

Text

“Santa Surprise” Part of the Hostage Series

A little holiday story featuring my Barba family for @thefanficfaerie‘s Christmas OTP challenge. There’s domestic fluffiness mixed with a hint of smut. ❤️

Prompt 16: Santa

Slightly NSFW (Santa kink, anyone??)

Rafael finished wiping down the counters after dinner when something odd struck him. It was quiet—too quiet. You offered to host the SVU holiday party and were currently out shopping with Liv, leaving Rafael alone with a five year old and two toddlers. Creeping into the living room where his children were, he expected total chaos, but instead was greeted with a picture perfect moment.

There was Mila sitting in front of the fireplace flanked by her two siblings while she showed them her pop-up book of The Night Before Christmas. “On Christmas Eve, Santa Claus comes down the chimney and then he leaves you presents under the tree,” she explained, pointing to the fat, jolly man dressed in red. “But if you’re bad, then you get coal.”

“No one is going to get coal this year,” Rafael said. “Santa just texted me and he said you all have been very good.”

Mila gasped and looked up at her father in awe. “Papi, you know Santa!”

“Of course I do,” he replied and picked up Rory and Ben, kissing them both on the cheek. “Ok, my little reindeer. Bath and bedtime."

Ben giggled and pointed to Rafael. “Santa!”

Rafael shook his head. “No, I’m not Santa. I’m Papi.”

“No, you Santa,” Ben replied.

“Santa!” Rory chimed in, grabbing at her father’s beard.

Rafael let out an exasperated sigh. Ever since he had decided to grow a beard that winter, the twins had taken to calling him Santa. It was beginning to get old. He walked up the stairs, balancing the twins in his arms with Mila following close behind.

“Papi, is Santa going to be at the Christmas party?” Mila asked while Rafael was wrangling Rory and Ben into the bathtub.

“Maybe, but remember muñequita, Santa is very busy this time of year. He may not be able to make it,” Rafael replied. Just then Rory escaped from the bathtub and ran down the hall, screaming and leaving a soapy trail.

“Oh God, we have a runaway. Rory, come back!” Rafael got up and chased after the naked toddler.

Mila grabbed the rubber ducky from the sink and handed it to her little brother. “Looks like someone is getting coal in their stocking,” she said in a sing-song voice, making Ben laugh.

*****

Rafael was utterly exhausted by the time you came home. After getting Rory back in the tub, Ben decided to make a run for it, escaping down the hallway. Once the twins were finally bathed and put to bed, Rafael then had to negotiate bedtime with Mila. He sang. He danced. He read stories. He was beginning to feel like a one man show on Broadway.

Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Rafael tilted his head from side to side, noticing the grey that streaked his hair and beard before looking down at his soft belly. No wonder the twins kept calling him Santa.

With a sigh, he shut off the bathroom lights and walked into the bedroom where you were waiting. Taking one look at your poor husband, you held out your arms to him. Rafael collapsed onto the bed and into your warm embrace.

“Rough night?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, his head practically buried in your chest.

You softly laughed, having experienced bedtime with Mila and the twins when Rafael was working late. “Thanks for watching them. I really appreciate it. There was no way I could’ve gone shopping with those three running around the store.”

“Anytime,” Rafael replied, his voice muffled against your skin.

You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. A groan escaped Rafael’s lips as his body began to relax. He nuzzled against your chest making you giggle and squirm. “Your beard tickles.”

Rafael raised his head and saw the red mark he had made on your sensitive skin. “Sorry,” he sheepishly said.

“Don’t be. I love it,” you purred.

“You do?”

You smirked and stroked his scuff. “You look so sexy with a beard. It drives me crazy.”

Rafael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Good to know,” he whispered and pushed up your flimsy silk nightgown, exposing more of your bare flesh. He lay open-mouth kisses on your stomach, dragging his tongue across your skin while spreading your thighs with his large hands.

You bit back a moan and tried to focus, knowing that if he kept this up you would forget all about what you had planned to ask him all evening. “So Liv and I were talking,” you abruptly said.

“Uh-oh, never a good sign,” Rafael murmured against you.

“And we were thinking what if you dressed up as Santa for the holiday party?”

Rafael stopped and met your gaze. “Santa? Really? I don’t know,” he groaned. “The squad would never let me live it down. I already dress up for Halloween, now I gotta be Santa too?”

“Everyone would love it! Besides don’t pretend you don’t love dressing up for Halloween every year.” You sat up and playfully narrowed your eyes. “I see how excited you get when we pick our family costumes.”

You had him there. Over the years, Rafael had grown to love Halloween. Being married to you, it was hard not to be. This past Halloween you were characters from Alice in Wonderland. You dressed up as the Red Queen. Rafael was the White Rabbit. Mila was Alice, and Rory and Ben were Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. It was becoming a sweet family tradition.

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” he said and gently pushed you back down onto the bed before going back to his previous task of leaving a trail of kisses down your body.

“Liv and I found a really nice Santa suit,” you said.

“Mmmhmm,” Rafael mumbled while nibbling on your inner thigh. You gasped and arched your hips towards him.

Rafael was playing dirty, trying to distract you from your mission. But your husband underestimated you. You were determined to get him to play Santa. “The guy at the store is keeping it on hold for us. I have to let him know tomorrow if we’re going to take it,” you continued. “We thought you could dress up and pass out treats to the kids.”

Rafael huffed out a breath. “Mi amor, can we talk about this later. I’m a little preoccupied at the moment,” he said, gesturing to your open legs.

“I just think it would add such a great touch to our party and the kids are so excited for Santa this year. Mila even made him an invitation.” You scrambled out from under Rafael and grabbed Mila’s invitation from the top of the dresser, handing it over to him.

The invitation was a picture Mila had drawn of herself and the twins with Santa. The little five year old even signed her name along with a few scribbles in red and green crayon which he suspected were Rory and Ben’s signatures. The drawing tugged at his heart strings. He felt like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes. If he could be a Lewis Carroll character for his family, he could certainly be good ol’ Saint Nick.

“You promise it’s not some cheesy polyester suit?” Rafael asked.

“Actually I think it’s a cotton-poly blend. A light breathable fabric.”

Rafael gave you a warning look. “Y/N.”

“I’m just kidding. It’s a nice suit. Way better than any Santa costume you’d find at the mall.”

“Alright,” he conceded and set Mila’s invitation on the nightstand. “I’ll be Santa.”

You squealed with excitement and wrapped your arms around Rafael. “You are the most incredible husband and father. Have I ever told you that?”

“You have, but it doesn’t hurt to say it again,” he teased and planted a searing hot kiss to your lips. “Now that we got all that sorted,” he purred, kissing down the gentle slope of your neck. “May I please—” His mouth moved lower, kissing the swells of your breasts. “Continue what I was doing earlier.” He pulled your nightgown off and kissed a path from your right hip to your left hip.

You softly moaned, your eyes slipping close. “Whatever you say, Santa,” you breathed with a hint of a smile on your lips.

Rafael’s eyes darkened. In an instant, he had you flipped onto your back. “Oh you’re asking for it now, cariño.”

*****

It was the night of the party. Rafael and Sonny stood outside on the front stoop. When you stopped by the store to pick up the Santa outfit, you spied a beautiful lime green and red elf costume. It even came with pointy shoes. You rented the outfit and miraculously had managed to talk Sonny into being an elf. “I still don’t see why you get to be Santa,” he grumbled. “Whoever heard of a 6 foot elf.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. He was beginning to sweat within the red jumpsuit. His face itched and he silently cursed himself for not shaving before placing the fake white beard on top of his real beard. “For the last time, it’s my house and Y/N asked me to be Santa.”

“I’m just sayin’ I’m always Santa at the Carisi house.”

Rafael gave Sonny a dead-pan stare before knocking on the door.

“I got it,” he heard Fin say. Fin opened the door to see Rafael and Sonny dressed in their Christmas regalia and took out his phone to snap a picture. “I got my Christmas gift right here,” he laughed.

Rafael and Sonny walked past a still laughing Fin and into the house. “Hey everyone! Look who’s here,” you announced when you saw your husband and partner.

“Santa!” All the kids exclaimed and ran towards Rafael and Sonny. Rafael smiled and said hello to everyone in his best booming Santa voice. He had to admit seeing the children’s faces light up with joy made it worth dressing up in a ridiculous costume.

“Ok, kids. Santa is going to sit by the Christmas tree. You can each go see him and get a treat from his elf.” You looked back and winked at Rafael and Sonny.

Rafael sat down in a big armchair while the kids lined up. Fin’s grandson, Jaden, was first. He wanted Transformers.

When Noah asked for a puppy. Rafael glanced up to see Liv vehemently shaking her head at her son’s request. “Uhhh….you may need to ask the Easter Bunny for that one,” he told the little boy.

As soon as Amanda place Billie and Jesse on Rafael’s lap, they screamed and cried. Amanda laughed and took a few pictures. “They’ll love these pics when they’re older,” she teased.

It was Mila’s turn after that. With a shy smile, she hopped up on Rafael, then the inquisition started. The little girl was relentless, asking question after question.

“Santa, did you bring Rudolph with you tonight?” She sweetly asked.

Just as Rafael was about to answer Sonny interjected. “He’s back at the North Pole,” he said with a mouthful of cookies. “Santa only takes Rudolph with him when the weather is bad.”

“Oh, ok. What about the fireplace? What do kids do when they don’t have fireplaces. Do you still give them gifts?” Mila looked up at Rafael with big green innocent eyes.

“Well….I…you know fireplaces…” Rafael’s voice trailed off, trying to come up with a plausible answer.

“I know what Santa does. He uses Christmas magic,” Sonny answered before chugging a glass of milk.

“Actually my elves also freelance as chimney contractors,” Rafael replied, not wanting Sonny to outshine him. After all, he was Santa.

Sonny snorted a laugh. “Really, Santa? Chimney contractors.”

Rafael glared at Sonny and flicked a bell dangling from his hat. “Why don’t you go and pass out the candy to the kids.”

“Tough gig,” Sonny mumbled and went to pass out treats.

You watched Mila’s interaction with Rafael and had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. She was definitely her father’s daughter. “Baby, why don’t you tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” you said, deciding to save your husband from Mila’s line of questioning.

When Mila was finished, you brought over the twins. Rory and Ben held hands and warily eyed the man in red. “This must be Rory and Ben.” Rafael picked up the twins and set them on his lap. “What would you two like for Christmas?”

Rory smiled and pointed at him. “Papi!”

“No, Rory. I’m Santa,” Rafael said with a nervous laugh. “Unbelievable,” he thought to himself. The first time in weeks the twins call him Papi and its when he’s in a Santa costume.

Ben shook his head and giggled. “No, you Papi!” The tiny toddler yanked off Rafael’s fake white beard in front of everyone.

There was a collective gasp in the living room. You and Rafael locked eyes. His panic-stricken expression matched your own. “Papi? You’re Santa?!” Mila exclaimed.

All the children began to cry, asking their parents if Santa was real. It was amazing how in the blink of an eye, your party turned into a total disaster.

“Remind me again why we decided to do this?” Rafael shouted to you above the pandemonium.

It took a while, but the adults were finally able to calm everyone down and tell the children that there was indeed a real Santa. With some quick thinking on your part, you explained that Santa and Rafael were friends and Santa sometimes asked Rafael to help out when he couldn’t attend parties due to prior engagements. Rafael agreed, saying it was a little job he had on the side during the holidays.

The older children were a little skeptical of your story, but after bribing them with a few more chocolates and some additional questions from Mila, they seemed to be appeased and the party went off without a hitch.

*****

Later on that evening, you checked on Mila and the twins. They had passed out as soon as the party was over. You walked back to your bedroom, expecting Rafael to be fast asleep only to find him sitting in a chair in your bedroom with a mischievous grin on his face. He was shirtless, wearing only the red pants and suspenders along with the Santa hat, having forgone the fake white beard and red jacket.

A tingle shot straight to your core. You never had a Santa kink...until now. “Santa, what are you still doing in here?”

“Well, I was about to leave, but then I realized I never asked you what you wanted for Christmas,” Rafael said.

“Give me one second.” You held up your finger and ran to your dresser.

Rafael spied a flash of red when you pulled something out of your drawer before you made a beeline to the bathroom. He twiddled his thumbs and whistled a Christmas song while patiently waiting for you.

Just then he heard a crash coming from the bathroom. “Ow, fuck!” You muttered.

“Everything ok in there?”

“Yep,” you called out, slightly out of breath. “Be right out.” A minute later, you opened the door dressed in a sheer red lace baby doll teddy lined with white faux fur and a matching red lace thong.

Rafael audibly gulped, drinking you in from head to toe, all the blood in his body pooling in his groin.

“Well, what do you think.” You blushed and slowly twirled to show off the lingerie before sauntering over to Rafael.

“I love it, he softly groaned and ran his large hands up your thighs and around to your backside, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “Wait, you didn’t get this while out shopping with Liv, did you?”

“No,” you giggled. “I picked this up a while ago. Finally thought of an opportunity to use it.”

Rafael looked up at you, his green eyes half-hooded with lust. “Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap,” he purred and patted his knee.

You straddled his lap and ran your fingers through the smattering of hair across his chest, playfully snapping one of his red suspender straps. “I have to tell you, Santa. I’ve been really naughty this year,” you softly said, grinding against his growing erection.

“Well let’s see what we can do about getting you back on the nice list,” Rafael growled, kissing down the slope of your neck. You gasped and dug your nails into his biceps, feeling his scruff scratch against your soft skin. Rafael smirked, nibbling and sucking until a bruise formed right above your clavicle. Inhaling deeply, he could smell the Christmas cookie body spray you had spritzed on earlier. You smelled good enough to eat.

It may have been a crazy chaotic evening, but one thing was for sure—playing Santa certainly had its perks.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #barba #barba fic #barba imagine #Rafael Barba x Reader x Mila #Mila Barba #aurora barba #benjamin barba #hostage series #law and order svu fic #barba fanfic #law and order svu imagine #christmas otp challenge #Christmas with the Barbas

128 notes · View notes

edgydepressedchoicesthot · 4 years ago

Text

Act of Courage (Noah/MC, Lucas/MC)

Summary: It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

In which a survivor contemplates what was, what is, and what could have been.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061654

@ladyseaheart1668, @marmolady, @it-lives-in-westchester

A/N: Between work, college, and my f*cked up head, finishing this up took a lot longer than it should have. I'm trying to make writing into my coping mechanism, so that I'll do it more, lol ;D

I have one more fic I promised on tumblr, an AME one I'm gonna work on. I'm also gonna try to go back to my ES novelization, so stay tuned for that for its continuation.

————————

The two of them were at Josh’s place, waiting for Ava, Andy, Dan, and Lucas. Lily was sick in bed and Stacy was visiting her grandma out of town, leaving Noah and Josh waiting for the four others while they drew figures in the dirt in the yard with sticks and talking about anything their minds jumped to.

“Hey, Noah?”

The boy turned towards his friend.

“Yeah?”

For a moment, Josh, who was as lively as ever seconds ago, was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Do you…like anyone?”

“‘Like’,” Noah repeated. “Like I like you and Jane and the others? Or you mean like-like?”

“Um, yeah” Josh nodded, blushing. “Like-like.”

“Then no,” the other boy shrugged. “Stacy, Lily, and Ava are fun to hang around, but I don’t like-like anyone.”

“What about,” Josh began hurriedly, but slowed down. “What about boys…?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like-like any boys?”

Josh was beet red. Noah was just confused.

“No,” he shrugged. “I’m a boy. It’d be weird if I liked-liked a boy. That’s what my mom says though.”

“Right…” Josh looked hurt. “Right, forget it.”

Noah wanted to ask why his friend looked so sad.

He hated it when Josh got upset. Unlike Jane, who’d get mad, Josh would be quiet, pouty, and would go off by himself, refusing to ever acknowledge what made him upset in the first place.

But before Noah can say anything, the doorbell rang and their friends poured inside.

Noah forgot that Josh even asked him any question about who he liked.

It was something they’d both forget in the years to come, a memory of the conversation fading into a small feeling.

————————

After reading Lucas’s texts, Josh shoved his phone into his pocket. His smile started to fade as he continued down the road, focusing on his surroundings.

It really is a beautiful day, Josh mused.

And he hated it.

The sun shone through the trees in a way that reminded him of an image you’d find on a tourist pamphlet.

It made Josh think about how the only thing this town is good for is being fake.

Like how the town somehow fooled themselves into thinking everything was just a freak animal attack.

But the more he thought about it, Josh guessed he couldn’t blame the town for that. Having to deal with the truth might actually be more of a clusterfuck than it all happening.

It was all a question of why.

Why did this all happen to them? Why was he the one who had to find Redfield’s shack?

All he had to do was keep his goddamn mouth shut about some stupid fucking rock floating all those years ago…

It’s my fault.

Josh scoffed.

Like that’s big news.

And when it was time to pay the piper, Josh was too much of a coward to do anything…

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Josh forced himself to think about something, anything else.

His mind wandered from the date Lucas promised they’d have before he went back to his university, to that new video game Lily’s been raving about, Stacy’s latest Pictagram post about celebrating another perfect score on an exam, Ava’s latest binge on occult books in the library, Andy whining about how he just wants to be free of high school already, Dan’s updates on his new art blog…

…Noah crying, apologizing…

Josh wiped tears from his eyes as he kept walking.

————————

Noah always envied Josh.

He was a charismatic go-getter where Noah was shy and bookish. Josh always got stickers that came with having a perfect score on spelling tests, ones that Noah just passed by never more than five points. Josh was brave enough to make the first move in befriending him and Jane, and began their circle of friends the same way.

Noah not only hated how he was too wimpy to ever say any of this out loud, but also that he held this kind of resentment towards one of the best friends he’s ever had.

Noah hated how nervous he feels around Josh too. How he can’t help but constantly compare himself to him.

Josh was like the sun; radiant and bright and impossible to miss, and Noah had felt like the grimy earth beneath it.

But everything changed after Jane died.

Their whole group of friends changed. They started to see each other less and less, and eventually, they never saw each other outside of school.

Having different classes in middle school widened the gap between them, leaving silent nods as the last bit of interaction they had.

Soon, even those were gone.

Even after they all fell apart, Noah couldn’t help but notice Josh.

Before, Noah had always seen Josh happily chatting with at least one person.

Now, Noah never saw him hang out with anyone ever again. He was like the dusty remains of a star that went out.

There were times Noah wanted to reach out, to see if they could be friends again, to hang out, laugh together, be together-

-and Noah would stop himself when he came short of any reason Josh would want to talk to him.

————————

“You look like shit.”

“Hello to you too, Ava.”

Josh was semi-thankful that his shift at one of the town’s few fast food places started early in the morning. Only a handful of people stepped in here for breakfast, and none of them were impossible to deal with. So, for a few hours, Josh could enjoy a bit of peace before the lunch rush.

And it was always good to see a friendly face.

“Alright, fuck the pleasantries then.”

Usually.

Ava stretched her hand at Josh and waved it dramatically.

“In the name of the Dread Goddess Hekate, get me my usual.”

Josh punched in the register an order for an apple pie and a milkshake.

“That’ll be $2.78.”

Wordlessly, Ava hands him money and Josh went in the back to get her order.

“Talked to Tom today,” Ava said. “He looked really interested in the stuff I found in Cora’s shack. Maybe he can be my apprentice or some shit.”

“A witch’s apprentice?”

“Turned him down. Teaching is a rock bottom I’ll never hit.”

“Cuz the teacher’s at school we sooo great.”

“You get it.”

Josh finished up, pie in a paper bag and milk in hand.

“So, you talk to people,” she asked before he held out her order. “You’re social like that. Everyone’s gonna be at the memorial tonight, right?”

“Yup,” Josh nodded. “All seven of-”

Josh stops himself, remembering what happened to the seventh.

Ava’s face went steely, and for a moment it looked like she had a lot to say.

“Hand me my order,” she sighed. Josh obliged.

Before Ava walked out, she stopped and did a half turn. Josh sees several shifts to and from anger and sympathy.

“Tale care,” she said before leaving.

————————

Noah couldn’t remember the last time he and Josh talked.

So, when Josh sat next to him at the pep rally, he hoped his quietness came off as indifference, and hid his anxiety about the whole situation.

Josh didn’t seem to mind, since he started talking semi-comfortably. He was mellower and less gloomy than he used to be, and Noah felt the familiar jealously that was always the third companion amongst the two.

The pep rally ended after the blackout, Josh called everyone to meet after school, and four of them were stocking up on makeshift weapons.

When Josh told Noah that he won’t leave him again, he let himself believe it.

Noah halfheartedly thanked Josh, and for a second was afraid his sort-of-friend would take offense.

But instead, Josh smiled at him, and Noah felt like he was looking at sunshine.

A warm feeling bloomed in Noah’s chest, and it stuck around even when they were done talking and gone back to looking for weapons.

Noah remembered the warm feeling later on, when he noticed how Josh’s face was red when he was close enough to Lucas, how he stammered a bit more when the two were talking.

Noah wasn’t as dumb as he was as a kid. He knew that Josh liked Lucas. He also didn’t want to believe he was feeling jealousy, because of what it implied.

It wasn’t until during Britney’s party that Noah started to ask himself where these feelings for Josh came from. Was it sometime after everyone drifted apart, and their absence leaving an ache in his heart? Or was it before, when they were younger, innocent, and still friends?

After the party and after Josh revived his hope for the future (something he’d been doing well the past few days), his own personal devil reared its shadowy head, and signaled the end.

In the near future, while they were all forced to play the game again, Noah would wonder if anything could have happened to keep this whole mess from happening.

If he just told Redfield to fuck off, or just ignored him (no, her).

————————

“In school,” Andy said with a mouth full of pizza. “You froze up every time you had to present something. And up there, you didn’t break a sweat.”

Josh was taken by surprise when Stacy’s mom called him up to say a few words (he didn’t even think the town’s mayor even remembered his name). Surprisingly, where there was usually quick breath and sweating, there was just emptiness.

His mind flashed to Cora when he was up, about how she risked her life to help them and went to warn them while she was injured and dying.

And then it went to Noah.

He kept his part about Noah as brief as possible, and stepped down the second he gave his last “thank you”.

Josh would like to say that Lucas’s hug and quick kiss after the memorial made him feel better, but after talking about Noah, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was betraying him.

“I get a lot of speech practice when dealing with customers from hell,” Josh finally answered, shrugging.

“You mean Ava?” Andy snarked.

“Andy, don’t be mean,” Lily scolded

“You think I take offense to that?” Ava grinned evilly. “I go there on the weekends.”

Josh finished his Graveyard, and turned to Lucas, right next to him.

“Bartender, one more.”

“One for me too,” Stacy smirked, wiggling her empty cup.

“I think you’ve both had enough,” Lucas said in mock seriousness.

“How can you stand to drink those?” Tom asked. “I almost hurled taking a sip!”

“That’s it, you’re dead to me,” Stacy pouted theatrically.

“Aw, come on,” Lily nudged Stacy with her shoulder. “We all just pledged our eternal devotion to each other five minutes ago!”

And just managed to avoid talking about Noah…

Noah could be here. Right now.

Maybe not here though. The others might still hate him, maybe not, but at least he’d be alive. Maybe everyone would even slowly come to stop hating him.

He could find a way to pay for culinary school. He could open up the diner he talked about…

And I wish I could just stop thinking about those last moments…

Josh has vague memories of blushing and being embarrassed around Noah when they were younger, but he didn’t think it had meant anything.

Every time Josh started thinking about his...crush, if he could call it that, he’d just start thinking of Lucas, and guilt of betrayal would stab at his gut.

Josh’s eyes drift over to Dan, who’s been silent the whole time, aside from giving halfhearted laughs and accepting Graveyard refills…

…along with bringing up the one who’s been on Josh’s mind for a while.

“Well…not the whole group.”

Josh remembered that this night would end, and that everyone would go back to dealing with their trauma.

Not alone. Please for the love of god not alone.

He felt like some kind of traitor again, for feeling this awful around people with whom he should be happy.

It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

He remembered the panic attack he talked Lily through by phone after Britney called him, begging for help. He remembered Ava’s blank face as the signs of a flashback started to show. He remembered the bags under Stacy’s eyes as she drank more coffee than was healthy. He remembered the late night texts from Andy faking small talk when he couldn’t sleep and needed some anchor to reality. He remembered the way Dan finally admitted with tears that he wasn’t fine, was anything but fine.

And he remembered seeing the thing that used to be Noah in the ruins, looking back at him with those white eyes before vanishing.

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

————————

Seconds ago, Josh had gotten Noah out of Redfield’s (no, Jane’s) control as he was seconds away from being stabbed.

He goaded and taunted the monster they all feared since childhood, and fended it off with a whistle.

So this should be easy, right?

Taking Jane’s place so she could finally be free of the hell she spent nearly a decade in.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Noah sobbed. “Please…please tell my mom-”

“Wait!” Josh said shakily. “It doesn’t have to be you!”

“Josh, please, it had to be me,” Noah begged. “Let me do this. Let me fix my mistakes.”

“NO!” he screamed. “Don’t you dare! Let me do this! Let me take her place instead!”

Except…

Josh didn’t say any of that.

He wanted to stop Noah, he wanted to so much, but no matter what, his throat wouldn’t obey.

When it mattered the most, all he could give is silence.

If the two of them were any closer, their faces would touch. Unfallen tears pooled in Noah’s eyes, filled with regret

Josh didn’t know what to do. He wanted to scream at Noah. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He wanted to punch him.

But Noah acted before Josh could.

His lips weren’t soft, but warm and gentle, and soon turn salty when tears hit their lips. Neither of them knew whose.

“I’m sorry,” Josh lost count of the number of times Noah’s apologized today. “I just…I needed to do that. Just once…”

Those are the last words Noah ever said as a human.

————————

The night ended with everyone promising to see each other tomorrow, and soon after that.

And so, here were Josh and Lucas, waiting together on a bench on the sidewalk for Josh’s mom to come pick them up and give Lucas a ride to his house.

Despite everyone parting with the unspoken promise of this goodbye isn’t for good, Josh couldn’t help that irrational fear that the opposite would be true, and they’d all fall apart over again.

“You good?” Lucas pulled Josh out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he mumbled dumbly.

“You’re squeezing my hand pretty hard there,” Lucas shakes his hand holding Josh’s, and he finds out he’s right; Josh is squeezing Lucas’s hand like some kind of lifeline.

“Sorry,” Josh says sheepishly as he eases his grip, but Lucas gives a gentle squeeze, keeping him from pulling away.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Lucas says before Josh can apologize any more.

Josh smiled at him, not trusting himself to speak right now. Unfortunately, it just gave way to an awkward silence.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lucas asks.

“What…” do you mean, Josh wanted to say, but he just didn’t have the heart to lie to his boyfriend’s face.

“I know,” Josh sighed.

And he did. But that was a different story than being able to do it.

“I’m here for you. So is everyone else. And if something’s been on your mind, we’d all listen if you wanted to talk.”

Josh wanted to.

He probably needed to.

Josh remembered Dan, how he desperately needed someone to talk to, how he needed help, and what happened after he didn’t get it (it wasn’t his fault, it was mine).

But what could he possibly say?

Is it okay for me to have lingering feelings for someone else? Someone who betrayed us and led us to a monster? Someone who’s a monster now himself? Someone almost all of you understandably hate?

There’s no way he can bring that up. Not to his friends, not to his boyfriend.

“I don’t wanna talk,” Josh sighs. “Could we just…be here…? If that makes any sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Lucas jokes. “But it’s a good thing I’m a mind reader.”

Lucas put an arm around Josh, pulling him closer.

Josh rested his head on Lucas’s shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying his boyfriend’s presence.

In the future, when Josh finally found it in him to talk, he’d be able to go back to the cabin. Against all advice, he’d look for Noah in the shadowy figure that haunted the woods. And he’d find him. And soon after, Josh would be able to help more people who were forced into a world of monsters like he and his friends were.

#playchoices #pixelberry #it lives in the woods #fanfiction #noah marshall #lucas thomas #ava cunningham #andy kang #stacey green #tom sato #lily ortiz #dan pierce #my fics

14 notes · View notes