#yes I’m casually sliding back in here after being mia for ????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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bruised

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

colt and ellie bump into each other in a bar.

happy epilogue day, @rodappreciationweek!

tags: @choicesarehard ; @lovehugsandcandy ; @pixeljazzy ; @beccadavenport ; @zigtheeortega

~3.9k words | E (18+)

everything grinds to a sudden, startling halt when her roommate, mia, leans in close in the crowded, noisy bar and says, “hey -- don’t look now, but that guy over there looks a lot like the dude from your prom photo.”

it’s the second semester of her junior year at langston, which means they’re rapidly approaching the three-year anniversary of that day. she’s just turned twenty-one, so she and mia can finally drink legally at the bars in new york near langston’s campus that never carded them, anyway.

ellie finished her last midterm this morning. the day had been filled with promise when she’d left the lecture hall, springtime sunny with the weekend stretched out ahead of her.

now it’s after midnight, and there’s only the inevitability of this interaction waiting, in direct contrast to the optimism she’d felt earlier.

she turns her head and catches sight of that familiar profile immediately, the one she’d know anywhere. she’s certain she’d recognize the back of his head in times square on new year’s eve.

ellie turns away before colt has the chance to notice she’s staring, and wets her lips. shakily, she answers, “it is him.”

mia’s eyebrows jump to her hairline. “what? are you sure?”

as sure as she’s ever been of anything. she tips her head back and finishes the watered-down cranberry vodka in her hands in one last swallow, holding out her empty plastic cup. mia takes it from her wordlessly, dropping her own drink into it, doubling-up.

“i’m going to go say ‘hi,’” ellie murmurs calmly -- far more calmly than she feels. “are you alright over here for a few minutes?”

“yes,” mia answers, her brow furrowing as her lips turn down into a frown, “but are you sure you want to...”

her voice fades into the music playing in the bar and the cacophony of conversations that swallow it up when ellie steps away, out into the crowd.

colt’s drinking alone, near the bar at the front of the room. he notices her as soon as she pushes through the throng of people that’d been in the way between them and hones his dark gaze on her steadily while she approaches.

ellie can feel her hands clench into fists at her sides when, from behind his glass of something brown, he looks her up and down slowly, his eyes lingering lazily on her bare legs.

“what the hell are you doing here?” she demands, hoping her voice sounds a little more angry and a little less panicked. frantic. nervous. spiraling out of control.

colt lifts the cup in his hands. his answer is just as sharp as ever -- too defensive, a challenge she can’t resist. “drinking. it’s a bar.”

“a college bar,” ellie bites back, effortlessly taking the bait, “at my college. and you live two-thousand miles away.”

he blinks indifferently back at her. “what’s your point?”

“my point is that if you’re here to check up on me, you have some nerve --”

because he hasn’t called. he hasn’t texted. he hasn’t even tried.

“ellie, there are over one-million people on the island of manhattan.” blind rage boils up inside of her, threatening to pour steam from her ears as a smirk starts to form behind the lip of his cup. “how could i possibly know you’d be here?”

“that’s what i’m asking you!” she practically shouts back, though fortunately the bar’s loud enough to cover her. not that she cares at all if she’s causing a scene -- it’s the least he deserves. “what are you doing in new york?”

colt watches her silently, obviously unafraid to let himself look. he’s never been like her, in that regard; she’d be too embarrassed to be caught staring at him, cataloging the ways he’s changed over the last few years, but he’s unashamed, and looks his fill until her face feels hot with something other than outrage.

“working,” he says finally, reaching around to leave his cup on the bar behind his back. “i had meetings in the area. i didn’t realize you owned everything above one-hundred and tenth street and west of the park.”

ellie’s eyes narrow in on the twitch of his fingers where his hands rest casually on his thighs. he’s rattled. not as rattled as she is, but not as unaffected as he’s acting -- like he knew there was a chance this might happen but that he was still ill-prepared for it.

she can’t believe how long it’s been.

so much has changed, yet so much is still the same -- colt is still wearing that beat-up leather jacket; he’s still clean-shaven and tense with a tightness in his jaw that betrays an axe to grind with someone or something. she can see flashes of the same temper in the danger underlying each of his words, can read barely restrained fury in the line of his broad shoulders.

he still looks at her with the same intensity he always had, like he and he alone can stare directly down into her soul and see everything she is or ever will be all at once.

“you could’ve called me if you knew you’d be by campus,” she says, because at least that much is true. with everything she wants to say to him -- it’s a start. it’s what’s weighing most heavily on her mind. why hasn’t he called her?

colt leans back against the bar. “would you have picked up?”

it’s an unfair question, because he doesn’t even know how many times she’s tried to call him. the number she has for him is out-of-service -- long since turned off -- yet she still uses it, whenever the city feels too big and lonely, or she hears screeching tires, or she yearns for someone to talk to who just gets it, who knows and understands her completely and totally...

or when she misses him so terribly she would give anything to hear his voice, even just one last time.

“yes.” the answer doesn’t come freely; ellie has to force the word up. it costs her everything to admit as much. it feels like a big revelation. it’s been three years, after all -- she should be a different person, by now. she shouldn’t still want this.

especially not as much as she does.

but she's not different at all, so of course she still wants.

colt finally shifts his gaze away from her to scan the room. ellie watches him do so quietly, though her breath catches audibly when his eyes pause on the restroom in the back of the bar, behind the throng of students in the space. she twists over her shoulder to look at it, too -- there’s no line.

when she wheels back around, the smile on his face is sinister.

“come on,” he orders, like he can read her mind, sliding his fingers over her wrist before he strides purposefully toward the bathroom.

the ghost of his touch makes her shiver. part of her wants desperately to be able to defy him, to dig her heels in and stay where she is or take the opportunity to slip away behind his back, to grab mia and get the hell out of here.

but she follows colt helplessly, her eyes trained on his silhouette even when he finally stops at their destination, holding the door open for her with a grin.

it clatters shut behind him, loudly, and she squints at colt and the sharp line of his jaw, now illuminated by the suddenly bright fluorescent light, his expression a harsh contrast to how soft he’d seemed out in the dim ambiance of the bar.

the sound from outside cuts off into a dull whisper in the background.

now they’re alone.

the look in colt’s eyes is as calculating as ever, like he’s still trying to work out just what makes her tick. it’s like there’s every option in the world waiting before him, and all he has to do is decide which play he wants to run.

she can practically see the moment he makes up his mind.

it’s just after she deliberately steps back and hops up onto the ledge of the sink, leaning over in the cramped space of the bathroom to pointedly thumb the lock on the door.

he moves in a flash, accepting the invitation for what it is and crowding in against her, so that she gasps when he pushes between her legs and her head thumps back against the mirror behind her in surprise.

it hurts, but that’s the least of her problems, because colt’s lips have found her neck and he remembers exactly where to take them to elicit a response, scraping his teeth along the column of her throat mercilessly as he works his way to that spot that still makes her shudder.

then she aches all over, distracting from the way her head is throbbing where it’d smacked against the mirror, because he’s triggering a muscle memory for a muscle she hasn’t exercised in a long time.

colt pulls at her top, and she draws in a quick breath, her grip on the sticky sink counter white-knuckled where her hands are clutching it on either side of her thighs. he holds her wide-eyed gaze as his hips roll forward once, slowly and forcefully, letting her feel him against her even through all the denim in their way.

her lips part, something hesitating on her tongue. it’s impossible to get out with him staring at her like that, like this is something more to him than just the heat of the moment. his fingers stroke slowly over the bare skin of her stomach, beneath her top.

“do you want this?”

ellie nods.

“say it.” there’s that thread of danger in his voice again, lurking just beneath the command. her eyes flash, but colt continues to stare at her, waiting.

“i want this,” she huffs, already frustrated by the attitude she’s not used to, anymore -- not like she was.

she had imagined their next meeting -- because she’d always been certain there would be a next meeting -- thousands of times. of course, in some of the scenarios, he’d been a total asshole, like he is being or even worse, but in most of them she’d pictured something softer. in most of her dreams he was happy to see her. in her favorite ones, he told her he missed her, held her close and promised not to let her go again.

but that was only a fantasy, and an unattainable one, at that.

this is something more realistic, something she should have expected. he hastens to get her shorts undone and it’s not what she’s been hoping for but it still feels right, in a way, like they sealed their fate and signed up to meet again in this gross bar bathroom three years ago when they had their last goodbye.

ellie helps him pull them down to her ankles, letting them dangle off of one foot. then she rushes to get his jeans open, too, all on her own since his hands are otherwise occupied working their way over her body, pushing her shirt and her bra up with one hand while the other yanks her thong to the side.

it’d been hot in the bathroom before they started this but now she’s sweating, her hands clumsy when they fumble for his arms where he’s still wearing his fucking jacket. “colt,” she breathes, his name both a prayer and a curse at the same time. ellie stares in fascination at the way he screws his eyes shut in response, then repeats herself. “colt.”

his fingers nudge between her legs, as practiced as ever. he’s always had a remarkable talent for making her shake and this time is no different; it only takes a few swipes of his thumb against her clit before ellie is moaning, directly into his ear where she scrambles to tug him in closer.

colt stares at her the whole time he touches her, his expression unreadable. she used to pride herself on being able to analyze even the slightest shifts of his face, but looking at him now is like meeting him for the first time all over again -- he may as well be a stranger, with how well he’s managed to close himself off to her.

ellie lifts a hand to his hair and draws him into a kiss before he can stop her. if he’s going to make her do this his way, then she’s going to take something for herself, too.

except that he makes a sound into her mouth that makes her hips jerk, an answering whimper slipping unbidden from her lips. colt pauses, twisting his wrist, then kisses her back harder, as though the last measure of his restraint has finally snapped.

she’s helpless to do anything but let the fire of his kiss consume her, so she does. she melts in his arms and colt devours her, easily, the movement of his hand between his legs not even faltering for a second while his mouth relentlessly pulls groans from her, keeping her present -- reminding her that she’s here, with him, and that they’re doing this -- that there’s no going back, now.

that was how every moment with colt felt. every day was a new leap off a new cliff. a new opportunity for her to tumble to pieces, if she misstepped.

and she misses walking that particular tightrope more than she could ever say.

ellie comes apart with a gasp of his name, her thighs trembling beneath his iron-clad grip, her body confused by the dichotomy of how his touch feels almost like a reprimand when her heart is so full of love for him, still.

colt pulls back to look at her once she’s caught her breath and lifts his other hand to her flushed face, softly brushing her hair out of her eyes.

his stare continues to be inscrutable, despite how desperately she wants to know what he’s thinking.

she licks her lips, dipping her fingers back into the open front of his jeans. “colt,” she murmurs, “please.”

he stills like she’s hit him, then kisses her again, just as frantically as before.

their hips slot together perfectly, as seamless as the last time. it’s been almost three years and she can’t help but wonder about all he’s done in between the bookends of these encounters, where he’s been since the last time they did this and tonight.

she wonders if it feels as good to him as it does to her -- so good it doesn’t even matter what he’s done since she last left him, so good she nearly sobs with relief when he finally presses his cock all the way inside, so good she’d happily be the first on the sign-up sheet to have ill-advised unprotected sex with her ex-almost-something in the college bar she’ll never be able to revisit without blushing a thousand times over again.

what it comes down to, she thinks, when his first forceful thrust rattles the sink beneath her, is that colt has always known something about her she had never wanted to confront: that there is nothing else satisfying out there for her but him and this, this thing she’s been running from and constantly second-guessing.

no matter how much distance she puts between herself and her past, there will always be the inevitability of wondering if she’s made the right decision.

the next buck of his hips wipes her brain blank, fortunately, saving her from agonizing over the argument she’s had with herself thousands of times before and pulling her violently back to the present, where colt is acting like he has something to prove, her face still tenderly cupped in his right hand.

“oh, god,” ellie groans, her gasps rhythmically timed to the movement of his hips, “oh, fuck.”

colt’s face tips into the side of her neck, his panting breaths hot on her skin. “christ, ellie.” the sound of his voice is a low mumble she has to strain to hear, certain she won’t want to miss a word of what he’s saying, even when remembering it later tonight will feel like torture. “you sound so...”

it’s more words than she’s able to string together. her brain is a jumbled mess of expletives she doesn’t usually indulge in and colt, colt, colt, her body trembling under his touch as she holds onto him tightly. “good?” she questions. she has to know.

“perfect,” colt moans emphatically, his lips brushing against the dip of her throat with each syllable. “you feel even better.”

they both exhale when the words make her squeeze around him, though colt’s breath sounds like it’s punched out of his chest. he sounds as torn apart as she feels, so she can’t not look at him any longer, the shift between them as they fall easily back into their old habits practically palpable.

ellie lifts his face parallel to hers, sighing sweetly when he tilts their foreheads together. any animosity that had been between them falls away as their eyes lock. she can tell by the look on his face that he sees the naked adoration in her gaze, and revels in the open affection he offers her in turn.

colt’s movements slow to a dirty, groan-inducing grind, and she whimpers into his mouth when his lips brush hers softly to match them.

her nails rake through his hair, and then again when the scratch of them makes him grunt and press forward forcefully.

“colt,” she whispers, “please don’t -- don’t -- god, don’t ever stop.”

he squeezes her hip, his grip hardly tight enough for the bruises she’s been hoping for. “i won’t,” colt promises. “never, ellie.”

that’s the only thing she wants -- to live in this strange, secluded moment with colt forever, to know that she won’t have to be alone again once it ends.

because it has to end.

he swears loudly when he comes, the same as he did the other times they did this. he kisses her through the hiccuping shivers of her own orgasm and keeps kissing her, long after she’s settled again, so severely that it makes it impossible for her to catch her breath.

colt’s the first to break the silence between them, his eyes dark pools of intense vulnerability where they’re trained on her face. “come home with me.”

she swallows. “colt...”

“ellie.” he looks as lost as he had three years ago, and just as emotional. how can she possibly be expected to deny him? “think about it, before you say ‘no.’”

“all i do is think about it,” she admits, held captive by the pain on his face. “if there was a way to make it work --”

“we’ll find one.” his voice is suddenly fierce, insistent. “fuck, ellie. we tried it your way, and it sucks, right? we can try --”

“colt.” he cuts off with a clench of his jaw, holding perfectly still between her spread legs. “i have to stay here.”

then he blinks, and his carefully crafted mask of coolness slips back into place, putting a distance between them that has nothing to do with the way they’re still joined at the hips.

he nods.

they redress quietly, keeping their hands to themselves. ellie slides off the sink and onto her feet with a wince, reaching out for colt’s wrist as soon as his jeans are done up again.

“will you call me?” she shifts around in his field of vision until he looks at her, frowning when colt only sighs as an answer. “please,” she begs, “the number i have for you is off. i hate not being able to reach you.”

he chews on his response for what feels like forever, seemingly weighing his options in his mind. as they’ve gotten older, there’s a restraint to him that hadn’t been there the last time they were together, like he’s trying to decide how much of an asshole he wants to be where before he might’ve just gone full-throttle colt and leaned into it completely without hesitation.

“you can’t just ask me to wait around forever,” he says finally, an edge to his voice that makes her shiver.

“i’m only asking you to call me.”

ellie drops his wrist, leaning back against the locked door behind her.

the eventual sigh he gives is resigned. “alright. i’ll call you.”

neither of them make any move to open the door. after a moment, colt’s palm presses to the wood beside her head and he leans down to kiss her one last time, gentle and finite and searching.

she loops her arms around his waist, fisting the fabric of his jacket to keep him close. ellie kisses him back until her lungs are burning, until her mouth feels as raw as her nerves, until she knows, with certainty, that she’ll never, ever be ready to say ‘goodbye’ to him.

they break apart, and she clears her throat, softly smoothing his jacket back into place. “i really miss you, you know.”

colt’s hand hovers next to her cheek, then pushes her hair behind her ear. “i miss you every fucking day.”

she won’t be able to stop wondering if she’s made the right decision anytime soon.

he’s the one to reach behind her and undo the lock on the door, turning the knob at her side slowly. colt’s lips twist into a little grin when she stumbles as the wood she’d been leaning on shifts, spilling the sound from the bar and the weight of reality back onto the both of them all at once, before she’s ready for it.

they wander into the crowd together. mia’s waiting for her in the same spot ellie had left her in, and waves her over with wide eyes.

ellie’s able to catch colt’s eye one last time before he disappears. he nods at her, something like warmth jumping back into his gaze. the quirk of his mouth is a little easier to read, now that they seem to be at a closer understanding. she smiles back at him.

with the ghost of his fingers skimming over her wrist one last time, he’s gone.

ellie walks back over to her roommate as if in a daze. “i feel like a need a hazmat suit to just look at you,” mia sighs, scrunching up her nose. “tell me you did not have sex in the bathroom.”

“i didn’t have sex in the bathroom,” she parrots back obligingly, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stifle a smile when mia answers with a roll of her eyes. “are you ready to get out of here? i’m exhausted.”

“oh, i’ll bet.”

ellie bumps her shoulder into mia’s as they head back down the block to their dorm, tilting her chin up to look at the moon.

colt’s still here, in the city, somewhere. maybe he’s even thinking about her, like she’s thinking about him.

her phone buzzes from where it’s stuffed in her back pocket. the text message displayed on the screen, from an unknown number she doesn’t recognize, makes her chest feel tight. her heart slams against her ribcage at just the sight of it.

let me know when you’re free to talk, it says, and i’ll give you a call.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post #ns*w #lemon #you'd think i'd be tired of them by now lmao #choices rod #i kind of really like this one i hope you guys like it too !!#ride or die

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littlegrrl7 · 4 years ago

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A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 2- Temptation

The stiff crinoline of Niamh’s skirts crinkled in the tight confines of the carriage. She crossed her legs again in a rustle of mauve taffeta and starched black lace, drawing Leonardo's attention. Comte had picked the day dress for her to wear on the outing. The neckline was a low oval that left her feeling like the tops of her breasts were on display, like an offering. The day was far too hot for a wrap, but she had brought one anyway, draping it over her shoulders for some bit of modesty. She could feel his eyes skim over her quivering flesh at every bounce of the carriage. Niamh struggled not to blush, but it was an uphill battle.

Suddenly, the carriage pitched backward, tossing her into his lap. Apologies log-jammed in her throat as her face pressed against his broad chest.

Niamh breathed in.

Ahhh, the scent of him, that sweet tobacco and clove that clung to his skin. Her hands fisted in his lapels, trying to right herself.

“Easy, cara mia, the road can be rough here. Would you prefer to sit next to me? I’ll hold you steady.” Leonardo's strong arms lifted her, seating her next to him on the poorly sprung leather bench. Leo held her close, his arm casually laid over her shoulders, drawing Niamh into his chest. She breathed in again, god how she had missed the virile scent of his skin. They had never gone beyond a single passionate kiss; Leonardo had put up too many walls. But she had missed him holding her close.

“Thank you.” She settled her gloved hands awkwardly in her lap.

“Is there a reason you wanted to come to town with me today, Niamh?” He lit a cigarillo and slid the small window open, flicking the ash out of it.

“We haven’t spent much time together lately. To be honest, I’ve missed your company.” She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes so earnest. “We never did speak of what happened.”

“Did you feel a need to? You seem content.” Leonardo lounged, long legs stretched out before him. He inhaled again, blowing the smoke out a small window.

“I am... we are. But you didn’t expect me to remain in this time, did you?” She was still looking up at him, but he slid his eyes away, gazing out at the passing streets.

“Comte is a good man and my oldest friend. You make each other happy, it’s enough for me to be happy for you.” She didn’t miss the small bitter twist to his lips. Niamh studied his profile a moment, from the sweep of his ash-brown hair to the tenseness of his jaw. Inevitably, his gaze returned to hers.

Her breath hitched at the longing in his burnished gold eyes.

“The two of you have a good thing,” Leonardo continued, taking her hand. He brushed a light kiss over her knuckles, warming the silk of her glove, “I know he will always cherish you.” Then he released her to gaze again out the window and said no more. The only sound within the carriage was his inhaling as he took the soothing smoke from his favorite vice into his lungs.

Niamh watched Leonardo fix things from a park bench across the way. His usual crowd of admirers surrounded him. That familiar ache had never gone away, the loss of him. She closed her eyes for a moment remembering the first night she had met Leonardo. She had been in such a panic, stirred up over her predicament. Falling back in time two hundred years into a den of vampires? It had been too much.

Then he had kissed her, surrounded her in his comforting warmth, and her plight didn’t seem so bad. Niamh remembered the feel of his broad chest pressed to hers. The safety of Leonardo's arms around her like corded steel, lifting her to him. The softness of his lips caressing her mouth, teasing her lips open. And oh, the taste of him, virile strength, she had melted against him, her body surrendering to his whims.

But he had asked for nothing but her companionship. They had so many good memories together. But he had never let their relationship progress, even when it was obvious they both wanted more.

Her eyes opened, and she watched as another person thrust some broken thing at him to mend in the park square. That was him, fixing the broken, always giving, never taking anything for himself.

Not even her when she offered.

Niamh blinked back tears at the familiar pain of the night he turned her down. Oh, Leo had been gentle enough, but he still made it clear she should return home. It was Comte who found her crying in the gardens later that evening. Comte, who gently took care of her, who soon confessed his love to her, who eventually asked her to stay.

Niamh gazed up at the bright blue summer sky of Paris, watching the birds flit from tree to tree in the park. It had been over a year; she loved Comte, he was a sweet, attentive man.

But she never forgot her feelings for Leonardo.

“Cara mia,” Niamh looked up, and he stood before her haloed by the sun, his ancient golden eyes so warm. Leonardo held out his hand to her with a smile, “Let’s get you some lunch, yea? You can’t be ogling me all day on an empty stomach.”

She swatted at him with her tiny purse. “The conceit! I wasn’t ogling you.” Niamh placed her hand in his, relishing the warm roughness of it. So different from Comte’s smooth gentleman hands.

“Scusa,” he grinned that jackass smile of his, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as they strolled down the street, “and what would you call it?”

“Merely appreciating a master at his work.” She glanced sideways at his handsome profile, a grin tugging her lips.

He patted her hand consolingly. “If that is what you would like to call it-“

“Leonardo!”

His grin got wider.

Leo paused, studying her a moment as she huffed at him in mock affront. She had always been adorable. He loved getting Niamh all stirred up, seeing her fiery side lit. Unconsciously he steered her toward her favorite outdoor café, one they had been to many times. Sweet memories of the two of them flitted through his head as he held the chair out for her. Leonardo’s eyes roamed again over her figure; his fingers lightly brushed her bare shoulders as he pushed her chair to the table.

“You look lovely today, Niamh, that dress is an attractive color on you.” His eyes weren’t on the mauve dress, but on the way the black lace framed the mounded curves of her breasts that swelled over the cusp with each breath.

“Thank you, Comte picked it out this morning.” She picked up the menu, her eyes moving over the script.

Leonardo busied himself with a napkin in his lap.

Comte, what are you doing to me? Why send the woman you love out dressed like a tempting confection?

He breathed in. Niamh smelled of crisp linen and lilacs. After breakfast she must have bathed, eradicating the enticing scent of her morning pleasure to be replaced with the sweet innocence of her own perfume. Leonardo’s eyes skimmed the bare curve of her neck, the skin unblemished. At least Comte had healed her before sending her out into society. It wouldn’t do to have lover’s marks on display in public for all to see. His gaze wandered downward, wondering if the stiff cloth of her expensive dress hid any private marks. Visions of undressing her filled Leonardo’s thoughts. His lips covering her flesh where Comte’s had, tasting him on her skin, that heady mix of arousal and possession overtook him, and he could feel his cock stirring. It pressed uncomfortably against the confines of his pants.

“Are you getting anything, Leonardo?” Her eyes were still on the paper menu, pink lips pressed together in thought. He remembered the pillowy softness of her lower lip as it was sucked. Leo shifted in his chair, sliding the napkin over his tenting trousers.

“Dessert, the apple tarts here are delicious.” It wasn’t the sweetness that he desired, but it would have to do. He gave her up, a decision he would have plenty of time to regret. He might as well enjoy the day with her, pretending for a short time that Niamh could be his again if only in his mind.

Her meal came and with it the blissful peace of not having to make conversation. Of being able to covertly watch those luscious lips accept food, watching her enjoy each mouthful. Niamh’s expressions of pleasure were so unrestrained he could only imagine if she was like this in public how much more so she would be in private.

In his room...

Straddling his lap while he made love to her.

Leonardo tore his eyes from her, spooning another bite of the apple tart into his mouth. It tasted of ash. Nothing had brought pleasure since he denied himself her. He looked out into the park with its perfectly groomed pathways and rose hedges. Couples walked conversing, children played; it was an idyllic afternoon to spend with someone you cherished.

He cleared his throat.

“Comte tells me you are thinking of restarting your travel tour business?” Leonardo covered the rest of his dessert with his napkin, leaving it unfinished. Niamh raised one perfectly arched brow.

“It’s a consideration, I was going to start with guided tours of Paris and see where it goes from there.” She finished her meal, taking a sip of her drink. “I’m trying to talk Comte into hiring a few maids. It’s ridiculous to expect Sebastian and me to manage the entire mansion and its residents. That should free me up to pursue my own interests.”

“Would you be giving these tours yourself?” Leonardo paid for the meal, then taking her hand, he tucked it into the fold of his arm. They'd walk along the river, Leo decided. Somewhere it was quiet so he could enjoy her company alone for a short time.

“Well, initially, yes, but eventually I would want to manage a staff.” Niamh looked down at the cobbled path, her dainty black boots peeking and disappearing from her voluminous skirts as they walked. They were as fashionable as everything else she wore, Comte made sure she wanted for nothing.

“Scusa, cara mia, but there are parts of Paris that are quite unfit for a lady.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be giving a tour of those parts, silly.” She gave him a playful swat, and his heart fluttered. Niamh’s blue eyes sparkled brighter than the June sky. “Besides, I could always ask one of the residents to come along, I am sure Napoleon or Jean wouldn’t mind escorting me.”

Her skirts rustled seductively against his legs as she walked beside him. The scent of Niamh’s perfume cradled his senses, igniting his fantasies of being tangled with her in the throes of passion. Her breast brushed his arm, where she leaned into him, and every nerve felt inflamed. The tingling of desire chased around his body to tighten things low in his groin.

“I would do it,” Leonardo’s voice came out edged with need. He turned to face her, pausing them under the long, secluding branches of a willow tree. His burnished gold eyes didn’t hide the affection he still held for her.

“That is very sweet of you, Leo.” Niamh smiled again, and it held all the warmth of the summer sun. Impulsively, she stood up on her toes, brushing an affectionate kiss over his cheek. “I could always count on you.”

Leo turned his head, capturing her lips; he shouldn’t, she wasn’t his to kiss. But she was there, and his, if only for this moment in his mind. God, she was so warm. The taste of her was even sweeter than he had remembered. Leonardo brought his hand up to tenderly cup the back of her head, his other hand pressed the small of her back, holding Niamh close.

To his surprise, she didn’t pull away or resist. She melted against him, her mouth opening to his gentle pressure. Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket, she teased and tasted and then moaned so softly against him. Leo explored her slowly, feeling every bit of her, sucking Niamh’s pouty lower lip, as he had dreamed of doing. He took a breath, leaning his forehead against hers.

This was his oldest friend’s lover, he shouldn’t-

Niamh threaded her hands through his hair, pulling him back down to her. Her mouth angling over his, greedily. Sharp teeth grazed his lip, and he let out an anguished cry before she soothed him with her tongue. Leonardo buried his hands in her strawberry blonde hair, ravaging her lips, and she returned his attentions passionately. He leaned her back against the tree, pressing his full body to hers. Niamh’s thighs opened, and he stood in the crispness of her skirts, desiring the fabric gone so he could feel the press of his flesh against hers.

“Leonardo…” His name traveled out on a breathless gasp. How many times in his fevered late-night fantasies had he dreamed of his name on her lips as he pleasured himself? And now here she was in his arms…

But she’s not yours…

An annoying voice echoed in his head, he couldn’t do this. Leonardo reluctantly pulled away from her heated embrace.

“Apologies, Niamh, I forgot myself. Let me escort you back to the carriage to take you home.”

In her eyes was the same disbelieving look she gave him the night he said he wouldn’t be her lover. Her face flushed as anger replaced it. She took a step away, straightened her clothing, then the stinging slap came.

He deserved that. Leonardo turned his face from her. He let the pain of it coat his cheek and stab into his heart.

She’s not yours, and never will be.

Niamh's leather shoes clacked an angry staccato against the cobblestone path as she returned the way they had come. Reluctantly he trailed after her, damn Comte to hell for ever putting him in this situation. And damn himself for not showing a modicum of restraint when entrusted with another man’s woman.

When they reached the carriage, Leo put out a hand to help her up, which she ignored in favor of awkwardly wrestling with her skirts. She sat ramrod straight, eyes ahead as he watched her from the door. With a long sigh, he asked the driver to take her home, repeated the address, and closed the door, watching the carriage depart.

Maybe he was a coward, but he couldn’t sit for over an hour with her in that tight, confined space. He couldn’t smell her perfume on his clothing, taste the heat of her passion, and pretend nothing had happened. This made the previous kiss they had shared pale by comparison. Leo raked a hand through his hair. He had undoubtedly botched this. He should have continued to stay in the shadows.

Niamh stared out the carriage window as they pulled away. He wasn’t coming?

Fine.

It was all just fine.

How could he kiss her like that? What right did he have? And dammit, why the hell did she kiss him back? It would have been easy enough to pull away, to act shocked, to laugh it off. To do anything but what she had done.

She melted into his arms like she belonged there.

Damn it.

Niamh tapped her fingers along the wood frame of the window. How was she going to tell Comte this?

Oh, by the way, I snogged Leo today. It was every bit as delightful as I thought it would be. Tea? Baguette?

Perfect, just perfect. Comte was loving, attentive, romantic, he fulfilled her every need - why on earth would she ever look outside her relationship with him?

To something that was…

Unresolved.

She crumpled the delicate fabric of her skirts in her hands, unconsciously turning them into a wrinkled mess.

She wouldn’t mention it. Niamh doubted Leo would say anything. It was a mistake, an error. She was only human, after all.

She could still feel the heat of the passion he held for her in his kiss. The way his large calloused hands had stroked over her, pressing her body firmly to his. Leonardo’s sweet tobacco scent still clung to her clothes, overloading her senses with desire for him.

Just perfect.

#ikevampbigbang #ikevamp comte #ikevamp leonardo #angst #ikeman vampire

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .3.

monday

part 1 part 2

Warnings: non/dub con sex (some naughty talk and naughty touching :o)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: A pool party, several awkward encounters, and our reader’s endless struggle.

Note: Okay, part 3! Let’s get wild. But we’re still at a steady pace here so don’t get too far! Steve’s closing in and our reader’s in a corner!

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think!

...

You were far from relaxed. Your night had been spent sleepless and your morning was off to a rocky start. Kylie, as usual, was intent on sleeping til noon. You knocked on her door and tried to wake her but she sleepily batted you away and rolled over. So much for your vacation.

You returned to your room and texted your mom. Ten minutes, no answer. She was probably already at work.

You thought about sneaking down for coffee but the memory of the previous morning deterred you. What would you do if you were caught alone with Steve? What would you say?

You thought about calling the visit short but how would you explain that to Kylie? Aside from her accusations of you being a party pooper, you might actually lose your only friend on campus. And if you did tell her why, you weren't so sure she'd believe you. It was her dad after all.

When Kylie awoke, you were relieved when she announced a shopping trip. Supplies for the party. It was a welcome distraction from your thoughts and much needed escape from the house.

You didn't need to worry about evading Steve or confronting him. You could just focus on the list and trust in Kylie's fake I.D.

You ate a late lunch at a bistro and on your way back stopped to pick up two of Kylie's friends. Jenny and Danielle were kindred spirits to Kylie. You were starting to figure out the type of girl she was in high school. How did she end up with you?

You didn't mull it for to long. You and Kylie might have been complete opposites but she still enjoyed your company. You recalled the few nights you had torn yourself away from studying to join her at a house party or sneak in the back door of the club. She brought the worst out of you. That part you had repressed for honours and hopefully, a future.

Back at the house, Jenny and Danielle didn't waste time making themselves comfortable. They knew the house better than you and figured they had spent many after school hours there. You were an outsider again.

"We should set up the yard." Jenny announced. "Dani, you can get the drinks in the fridge."

"Dad says we can use the mini fridge," Kylie offered as she shifted the loaded paper bag across the counter. "He says once it's full, that's it. He doesn't want a rave."

"Cool. My mom won't even let us look at a drink," Jenny said, "You're dad's always so chill."

"He wasn't even suppose to be here," Kylie bemoaned. "I swear he stayed just to be a pain."

"Are my ears ringing or are you talking about me?" Steve stepped through the open glass door, his hair mussed and his body still damp from the pool. "Was just getting in a swim before my exile begins."

"Dad," Kylie actually looked close to smiling, "We were just saying how nice it is of you to let us have the party."

"We'll see how nice I feel in the morning," He shook his head, "The moment something's broke or there's vomit in my yard, you're done. Capacity is twelve….including the four of you."

"Nice-ish," Kylie muttered. "Alright, let's get to work." She clapped her hands as she turned away from her dad. "Dani, drinks. Me and Jenny will start on the food and, um, oh, we need the table set up by the pool."

"I think I can handle that," You tried not to acknowledge Steve as he crossed the kitchen.

"Awesome," Kylie said as she began to unpack your wares, "Tables in the garage."

"Shed, actually," Steve paused in the doorway. "I moved it last week. I'll show you."

"I'm sure she can find it," Kylie shook her head.

"And how's she supposed to move it?" He challenged. "Let me get some shoes and I'll meet you out there."

Steve left and Kylie rolled her eyes. It was more playful than irritated. "Sometimes I can't tell if he's trying to be helpful or a pain in the ass."

You wondered the same and you tried to hide your dread. Was he trying to get you alone or was this just your usual misfortune?

"Uh, where's the shed?" You felt even dumber as Danielle was already carrying the drinks to the garage and Jenny was casually setting out a cutting board and knife.

"Round the side. Opposite side from the garage. Easiest is to go through the front." She explained as she unlocked her phone and searched for a playlist. "Let's get this party started."

She hit play and forgot about you. You reluctantly left her as she began to sing along with Jenny. All you had to do was get the table set up. Easy. Quick.

You hopped down the cobble steps and crossed the grass to the side of the house. The shed was just beside a cottage style gate, hidden subtly in the shade of a weeping elm tree. It was almost like a quaint little cabin.

You heard footsteps and Steve appeared from around the front of the house. He had pulled on sneakers and a tee that clung to his broad torso. You stared at the vines that crawled up the side of the house and stepped back.

"Almost forgot the key," He held up a copper key and brushed by you. He unlocked the door easily and dropped the key in his shorts pocket. "It's buried in the back."

He ducked inside and jostled around a few bins of miscellany and squeezed past the riding mower. He grunted as he lifted the folding table and carefully guided it back.

"Used to have these big barbecues for Kylie's birthday," He stepped out and leaned the table against the shed. He closed the door without locking it. "Whole neighbourhood would come."

"Oh," You replied dully.

He lifted the table again. "You wanna get the gate?"

You scurried to the gate and stood on tiptoes as you felt around the other side for the latch. You popped it and pulled back the wooden door. He smiled at you as you waited for him to lead the way.

"So where do you want it?" He asked as he neared the pool.

"Just by the chairs I guess." You supposed it was the most practical place for it.

You followed and he set it down and unhooked the clasp to unfold it. He locked a pair of legs in place as you did the same. "Okay, on three." He counted and you flipped the table together.

"You're quiet today," He commented as you clapped your hands off. "Aren't you excited for the party?"

"Yeah, I guess," You shrugged.

"A lot of strangers, eh?" He asked.

"Lots of strangers at uni too," You countered.

"There would be," He was unfazed by your indifference. "You're welcome to hang out with me if it gets too much. I'll just be making myself invisible."

"Uh huh," You looked to the sliding glass door. "Thanks for the offer...I should go help them."

You brusquely walked away and felt his gaze follow you. You were more frustrated at his aloofness than the events of the night before. He didn't even seem to remember.

Taylor was the first to show up and Kylie was quickly distracted with her baser desires. Jenny and Danielle knew most of the other guests and quickly attached themselves to similar partners. Jenny with Jesse and Danielle with her old high school girlfriend Mia.

There were two other guys who came with Taylor; Brent and Carlos. Plus two more of Kylie's friends from her old job; Anette and Danai. You were almost at capacity and you found yourself in a corner.

"Hey," Kylie had finally detached her mouth from Taylor's. "You wanna go grab the rest of the vodka. Punch is running low."

"Yes, my lady," You jibed.

"Well, I wouldn't ask if you were busy but you've barely said hi." She frowned.

"I did actually but no one heard me." You grumbled. "I'm good. I'll probably just take a dip."

"Or maybe try the punch once you top it up," She trilled, "Loosen up a bit."

"Alright," You shook your head and she wandered back to her date.

You were relieved to be free of the music and chatter that formed a wall around the pool. The voices were muffled as you slid close the kitchen door. You sighed and carried on down the hall to the garage.

It was cool inside and smelled of oil and must. Like any garage. You stomped down the three steps and headed for the fridge in the other corner. A wrench clicked and you noticed the shadow near the door.

Steve looked over and smiled as he sat on the rolling stool and tinkered with the underbelly of a motorbike. You gulped and strode to the fridge. You opened it and squatted to search out the bottle of vodka.

You heard him stand, the wrench set aside on the stool. His footsteps neared the other side of the fridge door and you kept your eyes on the rows of cans and bottles.

"Hope you're not getting too wild," He leaned on the fridge as he spoke. You grabbed the neck of the bottle and stood.

"No," You replied meekly.

"Any cute boys?" He asked. You grimaced. "Nah, didn't think so…you seem the type to prefer someone a little more mature."

"Would you stop?" You turned on him and shut the fridge. He released it in surprise. "Why...Why did you do it?"

"It was just a kiss," He shrugged. You looked away. You recalled the warmth of his lips on yours. The silence filled with tension. "Wait...You're not...Are you a virgin? Oh, shit."

"Don't--" Your voice caught in your throat. It was all the confirmation he needed. "Is this what you do?"

"You think I'm an old pervert or something." He shook his head. "No, I never...before, I…"

"Why?"

"You're a pretty young woman. You're sweet and...I guess I'm lonely," He resigned, "Can you blame me? I mean, look at you."

"It's wrong," You asserted. "Kylie--"

"Is having her own fun. She's got her boy here. I'm not stupid," He said, "She's young, she's enjoying her life. Maybe you should try it, too."

"Maybe I should get back to the party," You backed away. He had gotten so close. "They're waiting."

"Alright," He was nonchalant. Confident, almost. "Have fun...don't get into too much trouble."

For once, Kylie was right. Drinking was the solution. After returning from the garage, you were so on edge that you could barely stand still. You changed into your two-piece and treated yourself to a healthy cup of punch. And another.

You ended up in the pool with Kylie and several other girls. Your giggles carried into the dark night as you indulged and tried to forget about the night before. The vodka helped. The company more. In a way, Steve's advice had worked. You should enjoy yourself. Get over your stupid shyness and live.

When at last you climbed out, you hiccuped and reached for your towel. The party was thinning out. Kylie bent to kiss Taylor as he lazed across a beach chair and you dried yourself off. Danielle and Jenny called there goodbyes from the sliding door and dragged their dates with them. A reminder that you were the only one leaving stag. Well, except Kylie.

"Hey," Her whisper was loud. It was more a hiss. "I'm gonna sneak out with Taylor."

"What?" Your heart dropped. "But...your dad--"

"He's probably already asleep," She laughed, "Just open and close my door so he thinks I'm in bed."

"Kylie," You sighed.

"Come on," She whined, "I'm leaving in less than two weeks. I won't see Taylor for the rest of the summer."

"You know, you asked me to come here," You slurred and steadied yourself on the table. "And you just leave me all the time."

"Oh, Jesus, I promise, tomorrow we'll hang out," Taylor pulled at her hand as he stood. "Just you and me. I'll even do all the cleaning up."

You huffed and looked around. Everyone else was gone.

"Can't he just stay and sneak out in the morning?" You asked.

"No way. My dad would kill me."

"And if you sneak out?" You snapped.

"It's fine. Stop worrying so much." She started to pull Taylor toward to the gate. "We'll even go around so we don't wake him up, okay?"

"You owe me," You relented. There was no winning this fight. "Now go before you get yourself in trouble. Call a cab."

"We're walking," She called as you watched her go and she leaned on Taylor. Would they even make it to his place? He was relatively sober. At least steadier on his feet than her.

You tramped across the stone to the sliding door. It took you a few tries to click the lock into place. The climb up the staircase was daunting. Your head began to spin as you latched onto the rail. The vodka sank in your stomach and dulled your nerves. You quickly forgot about your anger.

The hall seemed longer than usual. You hiccuped loudly and cursed under your breath. You held onto the wall as you clung to the towel hanging loosely around your still damp body. You leaned on your door heavily and turned the handle. It took a few tries and you fell through onto your side.

You giggled across the floor, your legs still in the hallway. Okay, you were drunk. You sat up and grabbed onto the door frame. You pulled yourself up and before you could sink back down, you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned as Steve kept you from toppling again.

"Woah, be careful," He said. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Wh-where did you come from?" You asked. A voice in the back of your head told you to pull away but you feared another fall.

"I was just in my room and I heard you," He explained, "I thought you were Kylie."

"Sh-she's in bed," You said a bit too abruptly. Did he know you were lying? Surely those deep blue eyes saw right through you. "Which is where I'm headed."

"Oh, are you now? You think you'll make it?" He challenged.

"I can do it myself," You tore your arm from him and stumbled into your room. You caught the door before you could crash back into the floor. You leaned dangerously against it. "You...you…"

The thought floated away as he neared and took your arm again. You shivered and his other hand felt the side of your bathing suit. "You're wet."

"I was swimming, duh," You spat. "I'm fine."

"Just let me help you," He said exasperated.

You harrumphed but let go of the door. He guided you to the bed and you collapsed onto it sloppily. He chuckled and you listened to his footsteps. You turned to watch him pick up the towel where it lay strewn across the threshold. He closed the door and hung it over a chair.

"What are you--I gotta sleep!" You wriggled across the bed and buried your head in the pillows as if to hide.

"Not in a wet bathing suit," He said. "You'll get sick."

"I told you, I'm fine." You lifted your head. "Now go."

You heard him moving around. His weight shifted the bed and you tried to shimmy away. His large hand settled on your hip and he turned you over. You swallowed a belch as he did.

"Come on, sit up." He pulled you up and you hung limp from his grasp. "Let's get you changed." He leaned you against his shoulder and his fingers deftly rolled up the top of your swimsuit. "Arms up."

Dazed, you did as he said and he slipped your top past your head. You fell back and your tits jiggled. You didn't miss his stare as you blinked. You crossed your arms to cover yourself. His fingers glided over your waist, you felt his warmth as he moved closer and bent over you.

He kissed you again. Deeper than the night before. His hand moved along your torso and up your arms. He pulled them away from your chest. You groaned and his lips trailed to your cheek and down your neck. You murmured at the tickle within your core.

"What are you doing?" You whispered. He dragged his mouth along your throat and his hand squeezed your tit. Your back arched without thinking. "Steve…"

"Shh," He looked up at your as he went lower.

His blue eyes flared and he bent his head over your chest. His golden hair fell forward as he pushed your tits against his face and took a nipple in his mouth. You pushed on his head but he didn't even notice.

He lifted his body over yours. He pressed his knee between your legs and forced them apart as he did. His tongue swirled around your nipple and you moaned. You clasped your hand over your mouth in surprise. Shame.

"Please, you can't--"

"It's okay, sweetie," He fondled your tit as he looked up at you. "I just want you to have a little fun...show you what you're missing."

He grabbed your bottoms and his hands slid over your ass as he yanked them down. He sat up as he brought your legs up to free them from your swimsuit and you gasp. He dropped your legs around him as he stared at your body. His fingers traced the lines of your pelvis and he bent over you again.

He stifled your protest with his lips. He kissed you roughly as he felt around. His fingers tickled your stomach and thighs as they danced around your pussy. You squeezed your legs around him. He took it as permission and rubbed two fingers against your lips. He moaned into your mouth as he pressed between your folds.

You trembled and he started to caress you. Gently at first. You moaned again and he parted from your lips. His other hand cradled your face as he nuzzled your neck. You wiggled beneath him but it only intensified his touch. He played with your clit and you whimpered.

It was too much.

Your breath hitched and he started to kiss your neck, little nibbles along the flesh. You felt the orgasm building. Bigger than any you had experienced before. Hotter than that felt at your own touch. You bit your lip and his fingers sped up.

The noise that came from you was humiliating. You cried out and your thighs tensed. You tilted your pelvis against his hand as you climaxed. Your mewls pierced your rampant breaths and his fingers eased you through your peak.

Slowly, he sat up. He dragged his slick fingers down your thighs and left a trail of your juices along your skin. You could see his arousal through his pajamas. He reached for a familiar pair of leopard print shorts and backed up. He hooked them around your feet and tugged them up your legs.

He dressed you carefully in the pajamas he had set beside you. He took your swimsuit bottoms and rubbed the crotch between his thumb and index. He smirked and stood. You were out of breath and spinning. You watched his blurry figure as he moved around the room.

He disappeared through the door of the bathroom before he returned. He still held your bathing suit. He neared the door with one last look over his shoulder. In your haze, you couldn't make out his face, only heard his voice.

"Good night, sweetie." He flicked the light off and the door opened and closed.

You laid in the dark, drunk on vodka and bliss, and the heat between your legs lulled you into a stupor. The world faded to black as the memories melted to dreams.

tags to be added in reblog

#kiss me in the d-a-r-k #series #steve rogers x reader #dad!steve rogers x reader #dad!steve rogers #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #au #fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #dark!fic #dark fic #darkverse #dark!verse

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amelialincoln · 5 years ago

Text

Beautiful and Brutal

Amelia’s mind was flying a mile a minute. There was some sort of provincial high school football tournament going on at a field near by which had meant about a dozen concussions had entered the ER throughout the week. Now normally Amelia would not be paged for a concussion; however, all of these football parents seemed absolutely adamant that their child had some sort of spinal injury that required an immediate neuro consult. She was definitely a supporter of the better safe than sorry expression, however at this point it was getting a little out of hand.

“Hey,” Link’s voice filled her ears as she was swiftly pulled into a quiet trauma room.

“Hi,” Amelia sighed, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist.

“You look exhausted,” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Probably because I feel it.” She smirked, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I should go.”

Link pouted. “Meet in the attending’s lounge at five and then a long back massage tonight?”

“Sounds perfect. You’re off then too?”

“You got it,” he replied before holding the door open for her and watching her disappear into the crowded emergency room.

She was guiltily praying for emergent head injuries as the announced that yet another football player had, surprise, a concussion. Her eyes scanned the room as another player entered through the ER’s sliding doors. She quickly made her way to the elevator and pressed the button for the OR floor. As the doors opened she was supposed to find Koracick wheeling a patient into an operating room.

“Tom!” She rushed over.

“What’s up Shep?”

“Please let me take this off your hands. I literally haven’t stepped into an OR in hours. You’ve already had three surgeries today. Please, I’ll owe you one.”

“Yeah, no,” he laughed. “I’m not getting anywhere near that ER until Monday.”

“Tom, please. I’m begging. I’m super cute when I beg, you can’t resist this.”

“Watch me.”

“Doctor Shepherd,” Jo Karev appeared beside them.

“Not right now Karev, I’m really close to talking Koracick into giving me this surgery.”

“Definitely not close—” Tom shook his head giving Wilson a wink.

“It’s Jake,” Jo interrupted. “He’s in the ER. Alex is checking—”

“What?” Amelia’s eyes widened in shock before mumbling that she’d see them both later and racing down the hallway.

She found Jake and Karev immediately. Her heart pounding she made her way to the bed trying not to look frantic.

“Mommy,” Jake called out. Amelia winced at the pain in his voice.

“Hi baby,” Amelia replied. “Did you page Link?” She asked Karev. He shook his head and she tried to cover the shakiness of her hands as she paged him. “What’s going on?” She moved to kiss her son’s sweaty forehead.

“My stomach hurts,” Jake wailed.

“We’re thinking appendicitis,” Karev nodded. “We need to get him up to CT to make sure. The daycare brought him down right away.”

“Okay,” Amelia bit her lip as Jake wrapped his pudgy fingers around her arm, his eyes, a startling replication of Link’s piercing blue ones, staring into hers. “I’m scared, Mommy. It hurted.”

“I know, baby,” she said wrapping her arms around her son and climbing onto the patient bed. “But uncle Karev is going to take really good care of you.”

“Where’s daddy?” Jake asked. Amelia told him he was coming soon as Alex did a quick exam, confirming what he thought to be his diagnosis. “Uncle Alex?”

“Yeah bud?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up now.”

“Oh, Jakey,” Amelia gasped, shoving a kidney dish under him as he heaved. “It’s okay sweetheart.”

“Amelia!” A familiar voice rang through the ER. Link rushed over, hurriedly and knelt down before his son. “Hey, big guy,” he grinned. “You not feeling well?” Amelia was shocked to see his composure as he ruffled Jake’s hair.

“Daddy I throwed up.” He winced as Alex pressed on the right side of his abdomen. “Do I have to have surgery?” Amelia was impressed by the four year old’s vocabulary despite it being such a commonly used word in their house. Link looked to Alex, who nodded. “Zola taughted me that,” he explained as his parents looked at him with surprise. “She said when you get hurt to have surgery and Auntie Mer has to do it.”

“Well not every time you get hurt. But you might have to,” Link answered, Jake’s eyes widened with fear. “Don’t worry Jake, it’s not that scary. I had lots of surgeries when I was a kid.”

“Really?”

“He did.” Amelia nodded. “And you know auntie Mer?”

“Yes, I know her,” he responded.

“She had the exact same surgery that you might have today.”

“She had an appandaxs?”

“Well not anymore, but she used to have an appendix.”

“Cause they took it out?” Amelia nodded. “Oh. Like mine?”

“Like yours,” Link assured him, taking Amelia’s shaking hand in his and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I think your Mommy is more worried about your surgery than you are,” he joked.

“Why, Mommy?” he asked, placing a chubby hand over Link’s. “Surgeries aren’t scary. You do them all the time.”

“You’re right, baby,” Amelia bit the inside of her lip and swallowed, trying to soothe her tight throat. “You’re going to be absolutely fine.

Originally Alex had said he didn’t want either of them, especially Amelia, in the gallery. However, this idea was not popular among the parents and finally he’d caved. Amelia sat in Link’s lap. She’d started in her own chair but had lasted about as long as Alex’s attempt to have them wait in the waiting room. Link had his arms around her and she breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, not taking her eyes off the surgical table for a second. Alex had warned them that with Jake’s age there was a bigger chance of rupture, as if they didn’t already know.

“He’s going to be fine, babe,” Link breathed, as if reading her thoughts.

“I know,” Amelia sighed, relaxing into his chest. “This kind of this just terrifies me. He’s just all we have and I never want to lose him.” Link winced at the indirect mention of the trouble they’d been having getting pregnant again. They tried IVF for about a year before Amelia’s mental health had taken a bit of a turn. In the meantime they deciding on casually continuing to try naturally. However, he knew that Amelia was being anything but casual about it and had been obsessively tracking every fertile window and period she had. He tried to ignore the little sobs coming from their bathroom every month after she would hide the test in the groceries. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, which he did.

“You never know, Mia,” he tried.

“Can we not right now?” She uncomfortably shifted in his lap. Peering down at Alex who gave them both a two thumbs up before letting his resident close. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, bounding over to the intercom. “Just a reminder that you’ve got Jake Derek Lincoln on your table, not the kid you want to leave a big scar on,” she joked to the resident who looked up in fear before tightening his sutures. Link chuckled lifting her chin so that their lips could collide and pulling her in to a tight embrace.

“I don’t know how my parents did it,” he sighed. “I hope we never have to go through that with him.” His expression darkened a bit.

“We won’t,” Amelia promised. “Now let’s get out of here so we can be there when our baby wakes up.”

“Our baby is four years old,” Link teased.

“He could be twenty for all I care. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still going to be my baby,” she added stubbornly. Link shook his head laughing, eyeing his wife and knowing that their child was going to have a long adolescence ahead of him.

Plz like and reblog if you enjoyed! And don’t forget to send me prompts.

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fic-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago

Text

Does Your Mother Know

A/N: Peter is 18 in this, nothing inappropriate. Age gap. You’re like 25, he’s 18. Also yes I got the inspiration while watching Mamma Mia.

Pairing: Peter x reader

Even though the Avengers now had an upstate facility you were staying at the tower for the time being. You were working on your masters degree in neuroscience at Columbia, so Stark offered an available room in the tower, of which you were grateful. You had cringed at the thought of having to take a car into the city for your classes every other day but Tony hadn’t thought twice about setting you up at the tower, claiming you could keep a watchful eye on everything.

What you didn’t know, what Tony conveniently forgot to tell you was that Peter was also staying in the tower. He started his freshmen year at NYU for Biophysics. It’s not that you had a problem with Peter, not at all. You had known him since he was 15 and Stark recruited his help at the airport in Germany, but Peter had developed a bit of a crush on you. Which more than weirded you out. He was only seven years younger than you but the thought of dating an 18 year old made you balk, it felt wrong.

Most times you could steer clear of Peter, claiming you had research to do (which wasn’t completely untrue) or saying that you were going out with your friends when really you were hiding at your friends apartment, avoiding him. After the tenth visit to your friends apartment she officially banned you for your own good. And she was right. You just had to tell Peter you weren’t interested in him like that, it should be easy.

The next morning you readied yourself to talk to him. Practiced phrases over and over in your head until they sounded right. You wanted to let him down gently, he was still your friend after all. And you wanted to make it perfectly clear that this didn’t have to mean the end of your friendship, you could move past this amicably. All of those thoughts left your mind when you walked into the kitchen to see Peter chugging a glass of water.

Your mouth went dry. He was only wearing a pair of gym shorts slung lowly on his hips, giving your eyes the perfect chance to glimpse the v that was prominent. You also got a very close look at his abs which were, um, impressive to say the least. You maneuvered your way around him to get a coffee mug and start making your brew for the day, your mind now muddled. He refilled his glass once more and then gently pressed his hand against your lower back before moving behind you, “I’m just gonna sneak by you.” His voice husked in your ear.

You’re so hot, teasing me. So you’re blue but I can’t take a chance on a kid like you. It’s somethin’ I couldn’t do.

You coughed to cover up the shock as you filled your mug with coffee. You didn’t bother to say anything, much less risk a glance in his direction, as you added milk and sugar to your drink. You knew what he was playing at, you just shook your head and laughed before turning around to go back to your room, conversation be damned.

But like the dutiful enhanced human he was, he was in front of you in a second, blocking your path with his lithe but toned body. He leaned against the wall casually, like he had done this hundreds of times.

“Don’t I get a ‘good morning’?” Peter asked jokingly, cocking his head to the side. You could see mirth in those chocolate eyes of his and you wanted nothing more than to wipe the expression off of his face. You just rolled your eyes as you walked around him, giving his half naked body a wide berth.

There’s that look, in your eyes. I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild. Oh but boy you’re only a child.

You had been around the block enough times to know what that expression meant on a guy. Hell, you had given that expression yourself once or twice, enough times to know that nothing good, or rational, ever followed. You were saving the both of you an even more awkward conversation than the one you had actually worked out in your mind.

“Good Morning Peter.” You responded in a singsong tone as you walked back to your room, hot coffee in hand. You could hear his resounding chuckle as you closed your door and prepared for the day.

An hour later, as you were preparing to leave for class you got a text from the Iron Man himself.

Stopping by later today for a little get together. Nothing major, just a few friends. Tell Pete

You rolled your eyes as you typed your response. For Tony, “little get together” meant the whole damn team. Here. In your apartment. You made sure to have a cleaning crew come by the tidy up while you were out. You were about to send a text to Peter when you literally ran into him while going to the elevator.

He caught you, hands gently but firmly pressed against your shoulders as he helped you right yourself.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” He questioned, warm brown eyes meeting your own.

“Class, and then back early because apparently we’re having company tonight.” You explained to him as the elevator opened and you both walked inside. Peter was standing closer to you than usual but not close enough for you to comment on it so you let it slide, for now anyway. You had enough to deal with.

That night you had come back to the tower at 6pm sharp. You were thankful that the cleaning crew was gone and left the place looking spotless. You had two hours to go before Tony and whoever else arrived so you took the time to relax and unwind. You played music as you took a shower and tried to pick out something to wear. You weren’t sure what you were in the mood for until you saw the perfect dress.

It was a button down shirt dress that stopped mid thigh. The best part was that it was in royal blue, Peter’s favorite color. Just because you didn’t want to date him didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun. He sure had a hell of a good time teasing you this morning. It was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You grabbed a deep tan belt to wrap around your waist and didn’t bother to do much with your hair. You painted your lips a deep cherry color before adding small diamond studs to your ears. You looked at the clock and it read 7:55, perfect timing.

You came into the main area where Peter was sitting on the couch wearing a striped button down of his own and dark wash jeans. He stood at attention when you walked into the room and you could feel his eyes roam over your body. You gave him a coy smile and fluttered your lashes before the elevator door opened. Tony spilled out along with the team each carrying an assortment of food and drinks.

Rolling your eyes you made your way over to Tony who was already directing where everyone should place the numerous pizza boxes and different cases of beer, hard cider, spiked seltzer, and other kinds of mixed drinks. Honestly, after the week you had, you were more than grateful for this but you would never let Tony know that.

“I thought you said a ‘little’ get together.” You said, a twinge of a whine in your voice.

Tony smiled as he threw an arm over your shoulder and gestured at the team, “There’s only like what, 12 people here. Relax.” He pressed a kiss into your hair before going off and grabbing a slice of pepperoni from Nat.

You were happy to watch the lovely chaos unfold before you but then Bucky was walking towards you, a hard cider in his hand.

“Ugh you’re the best I love you.” You moaned to your best friend as you opened the can and took a generous swig. Bucky was your best friend on the team and even though you were glad to be living in the city and thus close to campus, you were bummed that it meant you couldn’t see Bucky as much.

“Careful sweetheart, don’t let Pete overhear ya.” Bucky teased, opening a beer for himself. You shook your head at his antics, because he knew how much it was on your mind. You, of course, had told him about it and he, being very unhelpful, told you that you could probably stand to get laid.

“You know what, I take it back, I hate you.” You replied before going into the kitchen closet and pulling out a cooler. Bucky helped you load it up with ice before you took it to where the alcohol was. Bucky made some lame ass excuse about checking in on Steve as Peter headed in your direction. You silently cursed him as he walked away.

“Mind if I take a beer?” Peter asked, gesturing to the brews in the cooler.

“Aren’t you a little young Pete?” You teased, reaching inside to get him one anyway.

“I’m old enough.” He replied brazenly before taking the beer from your hands, letting his fingers brush up against yours.

Well I can dance with ya honey, if you think it’s funny, but does your mother know that you’re out?

Fine, two could play at this game. You, having finished your cider alarmingly fast, reached down for a spiked seltzer this time, fully aware of Peter’s eyes on you the whole time.

“It’s getting a little warm in here don’t you think?” You questioned, as you lifted the cool can and pressed it against the column of your throat, moaning a little bit as you did so. Peter’s Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he watched you slide the aluminum across your skin and the trail of condensation it left behind.

You took that feeling of satisfaction with you all the way to the couch where everyone else was chatting about their latest missions.

“Ugh I wish I could be on missions with you guys, getting a masters is hard.”

“But the work you’re doing is literally groundbreaking. I would argue that it’s more important than what we do on the field.” Steve replied, ready to cheer you up, and you were glad for it.

“I agree, I think you’re doing great work.” Peter said casually, as he sat in the vacant spot next to you, opposite Sam.

“Hey Pete, how’s freshmen year going? Meet any cute girls?” Sam teased and you internally groaned. You wanted to smack Sam. He knew what he was doing.

“The girls at school don’t really interest me,” Peter began, placing a hand on your bare knee and rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, “I’m into someone else.”

“Oh yeah.” Bucky teased, eyes narrowing in on Peter’s hand. “What about you doll? You into anyone right now?” Oh you could kill him. You could murder Bucky and you’re pretty sure nobody would stop you.

“Well...there is someone.” You started, at this Peter’s hand stilled, waiting for your reply.

I can chat with ya maybe, flirt a little baby, but does your mother know that you’re out?

“Really?” Peter choked next to you.

“Mhm,” you started, “But I don’t know if I should give him a shot or not?”

“And why’s that?” Bucky asked, knowing damn well what you were doing. You gave a small smile before you answered.

“I need someone...with experience in certain things. And he's younger, so I don’t know if he’s qualified for the job. If you know what I mean.” You responded, letting the implication of your words hang in the air.

Bucky choked on his beer and Peter removed his hand from your leg all together. You smiled. That should buy you some space, or so you thought. Twenty minutes had passed before you got up to use the bathroom. The team hardly noticed, they had picked a movie to watch and everyone seemed pretty glued to the TV. There was only an acknowledgement from Bucky to bring him another beer when you got back.

You checked your phone in the bathroom and gave yourself a once over in the mirror before you planned to head back out. The only problem was that when you opened the door, a very determined looking Peter was standing on the other side of it.

“Can we talk?” He asked, voice soft. You conceded and he walked into the bathroom with you before you closed the door again. You turned around to find him staring at you, brown eyes now a liquid amber shade. You didn’t say a word as he moved towards you until your back was pressed against the bathroom wall. He brought a hand up to rest it over your shoulder, pressed against the wall.

“What are you doing?” You asked, gaze locking with his.

“I think you know.” Was all he said in response, as he leaned in closer to you. You just shook your head as you rested your hands on the planes of his chest and then ran them up to rest on his shoulders.

“What do you want Peter?” You asked again.

“I want you. I want to kiss you.” He admitted. And maybe it was his honesty, maybe it was because you had been teasing each other all day, or maybe it was because you hadn’t had more than one drink in a while, but mostly it was because you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this, so you said, “then do it.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, if not unsure, kiss. But you were having none of it. You made up your mind and you were done with his teasing. If he wanted to kiss then you were going to give him the kiss of a lifetime. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pressed your body against his own as you deepened the kiss. You felt his arms wrap around your waist and you moaned your appreciation against his lips.

You gently coaxed his mouth open with your tongue and wasted no time in exploring every inch of him, enjoying the throaty moan that followed. You walked him backwards until he got the idea and sat on top of the toilet seat, with you in his lap. Your lips never left his as you undid the buttons on his shirt and started to kiss the newly exposed skin, appreciating the deep lipstick shade that marred his otherwise perfect complexion. You moved off of his lap as your hands found his belt buckle and began to undo it.

“Woah, are you sure?” He asked, his face flushed and hair mused from your hands.

Take it easy, better slow down boy, take it nice and slow. Does your mother know?

You cocked your head to one side and rested your hands on his upper thighs before you spoke.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? I can’t think of another reason why you keep teasing me.” You whispered in a husky voice, looking at him through your lashes. The picture of submission. Before he got to answer there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Doll are you still in there? I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.” Bucky called from the other side and you had to fight the giggle that made its way up your throat. Of course Bucky knew what was happening here. You pressed a finger to your lips for Peter to be quiet before you answered.

“I’m in the middle of something, I’ll be out in a minute.” You called back. You heard Bucky say something under his breath before you heard his footsteps recede back into the main room. Suddenly you got up from your knees and went in the mirror to wipe off your lipstick and fix your hair.

“Well, this was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.” You mused to a confused Peter who had a mixture of a shocked and frustrated look on his face.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked as you unlocked the bathroom door and made for the hallway.

“To watch the movie with the team.” You said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “See ya out there.” You gave him a wink before you walked back into the main room and sat down next to Bucky who gave you a knowing smile. Peter came out five minutes later and took a spot on the floor next to Tony who asked him where the hell he’d been. Pete looked like a goldfish as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, looking for something to say, before he came up with an excuse and Tony went back to watching the movie.

You were curled into Bucky’s side with his arm wrapped around you when you felt Peter’s eyes on you again, giving you a questioning look. You only gave him a smirk and a wink in return before turning your attention back to the movie.

Does your mother know, does your mother know that you’re out?

#peter parker x reader #peter x reader #mcu fanfic #avengers fanfic #song fanfic #peter parker x you

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rike-with-love · 5 years ago

Text

Melody of our Hearts (chapter 2)

Author’s notes: Here’s the second chapter as my apology for being MIA for so long!!

Pairings: Okikagu, Gintsu (minor), Takaban (minor)

Rating: M for mature content, bad language, fluff, light angst, enemies to friends to lovers

Disclaimer: I don't own Gintama or it's characters, Sorachi Hideaki does. I only own this story.

Chapter 2

<- Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter ->

”So the stage is reserved for us from 4pm to 6pm.”

”Okay,” Gintoki said to his loyal assistant, Shimura Shinpachi as he presented a piece of document in front of the silver haired CEO.

”And Kawakami-nim will take care of the soundtracks as we spoke earlier,” Shinpachi said and placed another paper on the desk.

Before Gintoki could answer him, third, fourth and even fifth paper was gently swiped to rest on the wooden surface.

”Here are the receipts we need to copy for our accountants – here's the official approval from the city to hold the concert – here's a bill of the advertisement for the concert.”

Shinpachi's words spiralled through Gintoki's ears, so much to remember and so much more to do. ”Oi oi,”, he wailed. Then, from the corner of Gintoki's eye, he saw yet another paper coming. ”Ne! Shinpachi!”

”What is it Sakata-nim?” Shinpachi asked and straightened his almost oval-shaped glasses.

”Please, you can call me Gintoki”, the man said, discreetly guiding the conversation to somewhere else. ”I'm not that into the honorifics.”

”But Sakata-nim, you're my boss now. I don't want anyone to think that I'm disrespecting you.”

Gintoki turned with his chair towards the young black-haired man. ”Shinpachi, we've been friends for years, you don't have to worry about that”, he said. ”Just leave the honorifics for the public stuff, ne?”

Shinpachi smiled and his brown eyes sparkled. ”I guess I can do that...Gintoki”, he said.

There was no-one who could call the young man rude in any way. He was a polite and hard-working person, someone Gintoki could really count on.

Shinpachi was also quite good with computers. Actually he was a lot better than Gintoki could ever imagine. In addition to his diligentness and computer skills, he had a decent sense of style. Actually he was the one who made Gintoki dress like a boss should.

Gintoki's taste in clothes was pretty casual, so he went with a white dress shirt and a light grey suit. A tie was an enigma he wasn't ready for, but maybe someday in the distant future.

Shinpachi on the other hand liked to dress up. He wore a light blue dress shirt with a beige cotton vest. He also claimed that his pants were dark blue rather than black, but no-one really cared.

Gintoki felt like he had successfully turned the tides of the conversation. But he was wrong, oh so wrong.

”Now, can we get back on the preparations of the concert?” Shinpachi asked, he knew very well his bosses lazy agendas.

”Haha, certainly”, Gintoki said with a forced smile.

Shinpachi flashed his shiniest smile and began to bombard Gintoki with documents. As the papers kept piling up, the easy-going CEO got lost in his thoughts.

Gintoki had always known it wasn't a cakewalk to run a business, especially not a record label, but that was the exact reason he had hired people to work for him. For Gintoki's salvation and headache, his employees worked faster than his mellow brain could adapt.

Maybe I could hire someone to be the boss so I could just jump on a plane and enjoy some parfaits under the sun in Bahamas, Gintoki thought to himself.

Not that he could afford a trip to the Bahamas. Or a plane. Or a parfait for that matter. More importantly, if Gintoki would distant himself from the company, he wouldn't be able to help Kagura in achieving her dreams as an idol. He was his manager after all.

When the Yorozuya Entertainment was founded, it was difficult to just get by. It took time to find idols, it took time to make music. There wasn't a possibility to hire more people and that was the exact reason Gintoki decided to become the manager for the label's idols. Just for the time being anyway, he had said. To get things started you know, he had also added.

The voice of Shinpachi finally snapped Gintoki out of his trip down memory lane and the pressing worry of the massive loan he had taken for the company.

”A bill from the security firm – a bill from the equipments we bought for the concert – a bill from the fabrics...”

Shinpachi's words sounded all the same to Gintoki. Why am I so lousy with these things, Gintoki thought to himself.

”GINTOKI!” A loud shout came from the door, startling both Gintoki and Shinpachi momentarily.

At the door was non-other than Shimura Tae, the head of public relations of YE, the older sister of Shinpachi and the one keeping Gintoki's laziness in check. ”I need you to sign these papers right now,” she said with a ominiously calm smile.

Tae, who more commonly went by Otae was a sharp young woman. After moving to Seoul she had graduated from business school with impressive papers.

Otae was one of the first persons Gintoki wanted to hire, she was a ball of endless ideas with an unwavering drive to make them happen. There wasn't anyone who could have been a better fit for the head of PR than her.

She looked very similar to her little brother, aside from her brown hair and her not needing any glasses. She liked to wear a tight pencil skirts and a matching blouse. Today's colors were purple and white.

Otae had shoulder length hair, often worn in a neat ponytail. She had bangs to frame her petite face nicely. Also, she wasn't shy with accessories, usually sporting a tiny scarf around her neck with a matching color as the rest of her outfit.

”Hello ane-ue*!” Shinpachi said. The siblings were originally from Japan, so they liked to refer to each other in Japanese. Sometimes it was funny to observe when the two got into an argument and the language switched immediately back to home shore.

”Hello Shin-chan*, did you give Gintoki all the papers?” Otae asked and pushed a dark brown strand of hair behind her ear.

”Almost there”, Shinpachi chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck a little.

As the Shimuras chatted, Gintoki was halfway sliding down from his chair.

”Uh, Gintoki?” Otae asked.

A single call of his name froze Gintoki right up. Otae had a flair in her voice, soothing but chilling at the same time. A perfect voice for tortu-...uh...negotating with people.

”Yes, Otae?” Gintoki asked and magically sat up while casually fixing the sleeves from his shirt.

”Would you mind signing this?” Otae asked and tapped a piece of paper with her pen. ”It's a permission to-”

Gintoki raised his hand at Otae, who stopped talking out of surprise. It was rare for Gintoki to act all bossy and condescending towards employees, friends – towards anyone really.

”Me and Shinpachi here,” Gintoki said and began to fondle the documents on his desk. ”We're a little busy at the moment.”

Gintoki didn't have anything against the adamant woman, he just wasn't in the mood to handle another important matter. It was probably something urgent as it came from her.

Shinpachi glanced at his boss with wide eyes. All of a sudden Gintoki was very into the paperwork.

”Yes, thank you for taking things seriously for once,” Shinpachi said.

Gintoki looked at the young man standing next to him. ”But I always do.”

”No you don't.”

”Nope, not even little bit.”

Gintoki huffed. He knew they were right, but he also wanted to be the boss. ”I'll forgive you this time, okay?” he said. Both Shimuras nodded as they were trying to take him seriously and Gintoki took what he got.

”Alright Shinpachi, give me all the details,” Gintoki said and actually took one paper into his hands.

”Ah, wait,” Shinpachi said and searched the stack of papers he was holding. ”Just one more.”

Gintoki elevated one hand, ready to receive the last document. ”Take your time Shinpachi.”

”Hah! Here!” Shinpachi cheered and offered the paper to Gintoki. ”Here's the rent-”

Gintoki moved like a shadow the second he heard the word 'rent'. Before anyone could say another word, Gintoki had grabbed his gray jacket from his chair and suddenly stood next to Otae, carefully examining the permission note she tried to offer him a moment later.

”I'm in a meeting right now Shinpachi, take care of those for me”, Gintoki said and walked out of the office with Otae.

”Heeeyyy!” Shinpachi yelled after them, a vain effort that he pretty much new from the start. ”You can't run from the rent forever!”

It had been a busy week at the YE building. After the release of Kagura's first single, Eli & Zura and Sugar Addicts released their first singles as well. Otae's PR plan for the company was to come out to the k-pop scene with a bang. Three new artists debuting at once was a real bang to say the least.

On top of everything, the free outdoor concert was well on its way. Almost everything had been taken care of, but Gintoki was a ball of stress on every single little detail. Yes, he appeared that he didn't care or had any interest on the matter, but that was just his defence mechanism. Honestly, he felt a little overwhelmed by the paperwork and stuff like that, but he cared.

Luckily he had Otae and Shinpachi. They were a power house together - and separately. They took care of running errands, permissions, equipments, all of that. This way Gintoki could focus better on the idols or as he so endearingly called the 'moneymakers'.

Gintoki helped everyone to prepare with the best of his ability. He wasn't a singer or a dancer, but he was a long time fan on k-pop. Yes, he was a grown man in his late twenties, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the music.

Gintoki understood showmanship, he was good at looking at the big picture, but he needed help with all the separate parts to build the idols into a functioning package.

Sugar Addicts had a member called Tsuu, going by the stage name Otsu. She had been dancing for several years. She sort of became the unofficial choreographer of the group and pretty much a choreographer for the whole company.

Apart from Sugar Addicts, none of the other idols had any prior professional dancing experience. However with Gintoki and Otsu's help, the rest of the idols; Kagura and Zura & Eli were able to add enough movement for their performances to pop.

Kagura had the rhythm and she had the spark, but learning steps wasn't really her strong suit. Still, she was better in dancing than Eli & Zura, a duo consisting of Katsura ”Zura” Kotarou and Elizabeth ”Eli” Dragonia.

Zura was a peculiar rapper/singer and an old childhood friend of Gintoki's. He was...how to put this nicely...he was a total corky lovable weirdo. Zura did all the vocals for the duo and Eli, well Eli played a synthesizer*. He couldn't really participate with the vocals as the man was mute.

When Gintoki was trying to get Zura to join his label, he explained that all the music could be produced by computers, but Zura didn't really care. He had only one condition before signing any papers, Eli and him would form a duo together, no matter how weird it sounded to anyone.

Gintoki knew it was a risk, there wasn't anything like that in the k-pop scene, but Zura managed to convince Gintoki that they would become the next big thing, the k-pop version of Modern Talking*. It sounded too interesting for Gintoki to pass by, so he agreed to debut the duo.

It was still a mystery where Zura had found a mute man named Elizabeth, but they seemed to be inseperabtle friends despite it all.

After Kagura's demand on finding someone to help with the costumes for the idols, Gintoki found Tsukki. She was a talented stylist who never told anyone her full name, she just went by with Tsukki. She was a beautiful woman with blonde hair and sharp purpleish eyes. She also had a scar on her left eye , but no-one dared to ask anything about it.

Tsukki was a woman shrouded in mystery.

And what it came to making music, Gintoki was totally at loss. Luckily the company found a musical genius to work for them.

Kawakami Bansai, a graduate from Korean National University of Arts. He was a prodigy. The young man was courted by many big companies when he was close to graduating. His future promised great things for him, he could have worked for anyone in the entire music industry, that's how talented he was. But...after graduating, he simply vanished.

No-one ever knew why did he go or where did he go. Well, there was one person who knew why he disappeared, but that's a whole another story.

So how he ended up working in a new, rather unsure record label? Gintoki and Shinpachi didn't know Bansai or his background in music when they met him for the first time. The man was playing a shamisen* in a park, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, expression telling of his fondness for the instrument he was playing.

Gintoki liked his music and he asked if the man wanted a job. Bansai paused his song and looked into the silver-haired man's maroon eyes. There was nothing suspicious in the way the man looked at him. For some reason Bansai felt like trusting this man, thou he wasn't even sure what trust even meant anymore.

Only after Bansai signed his contract in Gintoki's office, he casually mentioned his degree in music. Gintoki practically and literally fell off his chair, how could he have known the man was a mastermind in music.

Otae suggested on upgrading his contract and salary, but Bansai refused. The only thing he desired was to make music without crazy expectations and no questions from his past. Gintoki and Otae both agreed to his terms, they would have been fools to decline.

And there it was, the group of people who together formed the Yorozuya Entertainment and Gintoki couldn't be any prouder.

In a nice cozy office/work space of Tsukki, a final fitting was well on its way. Kagura twirled in front of a mirror and admired her outfit for the concert.

”Well, what do you think Gura?” Tsukki asked.

Kagura had her long vermillion hair done with her signature look. Two small buns on top of her hair. It was like she had small round ears made from hair. The rest of the her puffy hair was flowing free, reaching all the way to her lower back.

The outfit Tsukki had sown for her was a perfect fit. Kagura had a red, off-shoulder shirt with long sleeves. Tsukki styled a high-wasted black cotton skirt to accentuate her small frame.

The skirt reached just over Kagura's knee, the length matching nicely with her black ankle boots. No heels was Kagura's only wish for Tsukki when the design for her outfit was being created.

”It's really pretty Tsukki, I love it,” Kagura said as she played with a black velvet collar around her neck. It even had a cute golden heart in the middle.

Tsukuyo crossed her arms and smiled. ”I'm glad to hear that,” she said and walked to her desk.

It was hard to tell it was a desk from all the sewing equipments and drafts of clothing covering the whole thing. She really needed a bigger room to work in, Kagura thought, but she very well knew this was all they could afford at the moment.

”You were the last one to do a fitting, every costume is now done for the show.”

”You're very efficient, yes,” Kagura pointed out to the blonde woman wearing a black form-fitting suit, hair cut into a short bob to fit the look.

Tsukki hummed happily. ”It wasn't that big of a project, there's only eight idols to dress after all.”

”That's true,” Kagura said and returned to posing for the mirror.

Tsukki began to dig out some papers to deliver for Gintoki. Probably more bills to pay for the poor CEO.

”Tsukki?” Kagura asked and looked at the ever elegant woman through the mirror.

”Yes Gura?”

”Don't tell A-Gin...but I'm a little nervous about the concert.”

Tsukki lifted her gaze up. ”Why would you be nervous?”

”It's just that...the interview for the radio went well, but...”Kagura paused.

”But what?” Tsukki asked. She seemed to be seriously nervous. Sure, Tsukki hadn't known Kagura for a very long time, but the girl was like an open book when it came down to reading her emotions. She was one of the most confident and robust personalities Tsukki had ever seen, so seeing her falter worried her.

”You can talk to me,” Tsukki said and connected eyes with Kagura through the mirror.

”Well...this is the first time I'm performing live and...what if I screw it all up...”

Tsukki abandoned her papers and walked straight to Kagura. She placed her hands on her bare shoulders. ”Listen to me Gura”, Tsukki said in a really empowering voice. ”Look at the mirror.”

Kagura did as Tsukki said, and looked at her reflection. She sure looked like an idol...it felt almost surreal. ”What do you see?” Tsukki asked her.

”I see...me and you.”

”Yes, that's true. What else?”

”I see...your pretty clothes, yes.”

Tsukki shook her head a little. ”Those are not my clothes anymore, they're yours to wear, yours to feel confident in.”

”O-okay...” Kagura answered unsurely.

”You don't have anything to worry about Gura, you know you were born to command a stage.”

A smile sneaked on Kagura's pink lips. ”Uh-huh...”

”Just be yourself and sing the crowd into a bliss, okay,” Tsukki said and squeezed Kagura's shoulders slightly before letting go.

Kagura turned to look at Tsukki as she returned to her desk to get back to work. ”Hey...” Kagura said.

”What is it now?” Tsukki asked. She didn't even spare a look at Kagura, but that didn't bother the young starlet. Tsukki was all about keeping up a tough exterior, rarely allowing many feelings out.

”Thanks for the pep talk,” Kagura said.

Tsukki glanced at the redhead. She had a pleased look on her face, but it lasted only for a second. She's a complete softie inside, Kagura giggled to herself.

A knock on the door drawed the attention of both women in the room. ”Come in,” Tsukki said.

It was Gintoki coming in. ”Ne, how are we doing in here?” he asked and rolled his shoulders a little.

Kagura cocked an eyebrow. Was the ever lazy Gintoki being nervous. A thought of something being seriously wrong immediately crossed her mind. It was the day of the oblivion when Sakata Gintoki would stress openly about something.

Suddenly Tsukki turned her face away from the door. "We're doing perfectly fine here Sakata-nim," she almost mumbled.

”Uh, great...” Gintoki said and gulped a little.

Kagura stared at Tsukki for a moment. Where did the ever calm Tsukki went, she wondered. ”A-Gin...can we talk a little?” Kagura asked and walked closer to Gintoki.

”Oh, Kagura...I didn't see you there,” Gintoki said.

”What?” Kagura almost laughed.

”I-I mean of course I saw you there, that's not what I meant jeez...”

”Let's go already, yes”, Kagura said pulled her foster-father towards the door.

Tsukki cleared her throat behind her desk and tried to get up quickly. ”Before you go-” Tsukki said before she bumped her knee on the wooden table. "Tsk!"

"Tsukki!" Kagura called.

Gintoki moved by instict as he rushed to check on Tsukki. He went to her side to see if he could help in any way. "Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," she hissed and turned to Gintoki, who was closer to her than she had expected for him to be.

Kagura watched in complete silence as the usually super serious stylist slithered away from her desk, with a flushed face. Her completely black suit just made her blush more apparent.

"I-I'm fine," Tsukki said and tried to compose herself. "Uh, there's some documents for you on my desk Sakata-nim."

Kagura noticed a sudden shift in Gintoki's behaviour.

”Ne, Tsukki...when will you drop those unnecessary last names and stuff like that,” Gintoki said and leaned his right arm's elbow against the wall. ”You can call me Gintoki.”

Tsukki rolled her eyes at the surprisingly suave boss. Kagura felt equally amused by him as Tsukki was agitated.

Without any warning Tsukki grabbed Gintoki by his open jacket, never breaking eye-contact with Gintoki. ”Listen Sakata-nim,” she said, face still adorably pink. This felt like the right time to take a step back for Kagura.

”I-it's Gintoki.”

”For gods sake, do you understand you are my boss? I don't want to raise any rumours by calling you anything else than Sakata-nim."

Gintoki opened and closed his mouth like a confused goldfish in its glass bowl.

"Do you understand?" she snapped and shook him a little.

Gintoki laughed nervously at the woman. ”Ahaha...I know, I'm...I'm just joking...haha...” he said and slowly quieted his laughter down.

Tsukki let the man go and pointed her finger at the documents she was talking about.

Kagura was waiting outside Tsukki's office. She had seen and heard just about everything and all of it tickled her funny bone. ”Let's go A-Gin!” Kagura shouted to draw his full attention.

”Ah, yes! We have to go now. Have a nice day Tsukki!” Gintoki said and shut the door behind him as fast as he could.

Gintoki exhaled deeply through his mouth. Kagura crossed her arms and waited for him to say something and to try to explain himself out of everything that just happened.

”Well...?”

”Well what Kagura? We should be going already?” Gintoki hissed a little. ”We need to go and check out the stage at the park and-”

”No no no...wait”, Kagura grinned at the man. ”Do you have anything to tell me...anything at all?”

Kagura was a young woman with a quick mind. She was excellent at picking up on things, not that anything about Gintoki's behaviour was hard to read. She had known him for most of her life after all.

Gintoki squinted his eyes at Kagura. ”What are you talking about brat?”

Kagura rolled her eyes. ”Well you obviously have the hots for Tsuk-” Kagura's statement was muffled out by Gintoki's hand blocking her mouth.

”Shhhhhhhhhh! Shhhhhhhh! Someone could hear you”, Gintoki whispered. He wasn't actually blushing...but there was a some kind of glow on his cheeks.

”Mmmffhghmmmmm!” Kagura tried to point out.

”What?”

Kagura pushed his hand off her mouth and frowned at him. ”You heard me.”

”I don't know what you're talking about”, Gintoki brushed her words right off. ”You kids nowadays think you know everything.”

Kagura was familiar with Gintoki's ways of handling difficult situation. He wasn't old, but he was an old(er) soul to say the least. He began to blame the youth when it was about remote controllers, computers or crushes.

”So are we going to the park now?” Kagura asked, graciously pretending she hadn't pointed out anything.

Gintoki smiled at her. ”Yes, we definitely are”, he said.

”Great, let me just change clothes,” Kagura said and pointed out her new outfit. ”I don't want anyone to see this yet.”

”Of course,” Gintoki said and walked Kagura to her dressing room.

Before closing the dressing room's door Kagura couldn't help but to tease Gintoki just a little bit more. "Oh, A-Gin!"

"Hmm?"

"I'm pretty sure she's into you too," Kagura said and vanished before Gintoki could do anything.

"H-hey!!!"

* *

Kagura stopped teasing Gintoki about the Tsukki thing, he seemed to prefer not to talk about it. Maybe some other time he could confess his crsytal clear feelings, but now he had so much more on his mind.

When Gintoki and Kagura got to the company's car, Gintoki had a simple question for Kagura before they entered the vehicle.

”Can I ask you something Kagura?”

”Uh-huh, ask away.”

”The concert is only one week away”, Gintoki said to her, voice remaining as calm as he was talking about puppies. ”How do you feel about it?”

Kagura smiled. ”Well...I'm very excited.”

”Good...good.”

”Yeah.”

”You're almost a fully debuted idol.”

”I guess I am,” Kagura felt like Gintoki was tiptoeing about something and it annoyed her. ”Where are you getting with these questions A-Gin?”

”Kagura, you're like my daughter...do you really think I'm not worried about your well-being? This industry is very stressful.”

”Worried?”

”Yes, I feel like you're not telling me everything.”

Kagura knew what he meant. So he had seen her nervousness through her smile, she thought.

”I...I'm just afraid.”

Gintoki's eyes sharpened at her words. ”Afraid?”

”...I know how much effort you've put into me, this company and everything...”

”That's true...but what are you afraid of Kagura?” Gintoki asked.

Kagura could feel her eyes getting watery. This was one of her biggest fear and talking about it made it feel more real. ”Well what if I screw the show up or something else? I don't want to let you down and-”

Kagura's rambling quieted down as Gintoki pulled her into his arms.

”Silly girl...” Kagura listened to Gintoki's voice. It was deep and endearing. Also fatherly. It was just what she needed to hear.

”You could never let me down, no matter if things won't work out the way we planned.”

Kagura answered his hug by latching her fingers into his gray jacket. Even the stupid soft fabric felt comforting.

”I'm still going to work my ass of, yes”, Kagura said and sniffed quietly.

”I know that already Kagura..I know,” Gintoki said and patted the back of her head.

”Can we go to the park already A-Gin?” Kagura asked and tried to calm down her voice. She didn't want to cry over stupid things, she was too busy to do that.

”Yes, let's go then.”

A/N:

*ane-ue: a honorific for a sister in the Japanese language *chan: a honorific for someone younger in the Japanese language *Modern Talking: a German duo consisting of singer Thomas Anders and arranger, songwriter and producer Dieter Bohlen *synthesizer: an electronic musical instrument that generates audio signals that may be converted to sound *shamisen: a three-stringed traditional Japanese musical instrument derived from the Chinese instrument sanxian

#okikagu #gintama #kagura #okita sougo #okita x kagura #kagura x okita #au #fanfiction #k-pop au #alternate universe #fluff #drama #romance #light angst #slow burn #i repeat slow burn

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motleycrueimagine · 5 years ago

Text

This Ain’t a Love Song - Part Seven - Nixxi Sixx Fan Fiction

Words: 2664

Warnings: Language, alcol, drugs, soft smut

N/A: I’m really sorry for the delay, I finally moved and it has been really hard to find time to write something decent. I let you read now, as always taglist is open and feedbacks are really appreciated. xx

Huge thanks to @blonde-shamrock

Summary:

Maya Prescott has done anything possible to fix her life. It was 1977 when she left her groupie life: no more parties, no more concerts, no more drugs, alcohol or casual sex, just to achieve a full standard life. Now it’s 1981 and after a four years disappearance Maya Prescott unexpectedly shows up to the party of one of the most promising emerging bands of the LA’s rock’n roll scene: Motley Crue. But what should be her last ride is destined to change her life in so many unexpected ways.

TagList: @motleycrueee @babygal-babygal@unknownoblivion @sweetshutter

Masterlist

Maya’s POV

I was awakened by a gentle touch at the height of my hips. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening; in a tangle of sheets and legs I noticed I was almost completely lying on Nikki. Still asleep and not very alert, I went along with his movement, trying to move me back to my side of the bed.

“Sorry…” I yawned passing a hand over my eyes.

“No stay here, I just had your elbow stuck in my ribcage…” the bassist explained to me and kept me from going further.

“I am not a spoon-cuddler, especially after a night of just sleeping,” I muttered looking for a semblance of personal space. I went back to give him my shoulders ready to go back to sleep.

“Let’s fuck then, so that we can cuddle and keep being socially acceptable.” I felt his fingers gently trace the profile of my spine, then climb up my side to the edge of my thong. That simple touch was enough to shake my self-control, in an instant I found myself imagining what it would be like to feel his hands wandering fearlessly over my naked body.

I turned my head just enough to see his profile beyond my shoulder; he must had taken my look as an invitation to go on because he moved my dark hair to get better access to my skin and start depositing kisses on my shoulder.

His hand had risen up to my belly to hold me and to intensify the contact between our bodies. Now my imagination was sailing towards not-so-chaste thoughts. He suddenly let go allowing me to turn around and to find him on top of me, with a triumphant smile, hair more messed up than usual. We rushed into one another lips and although the delicacy of that kiss was non-existent our bodies kept touching as if for one moment to the other one could break. My fingers were touching his neck, and through his skin I could feel his pulse accelerating. The part of me that wanted to stop him gave up at the exact moment when his fingers touched the subtle fabric of my underwear. A sigh was suffocated by the insistence of his mouth.

His fingertips were a sweet torture as they rubbed my clit on top of the fabric, I could feel my body tensing up already with impatience.

“You have no idea how damned you made me, Maya,” he murmured between a kiss whilst expertly shifting the fabric just enough to gain access to my centre. One of his fingers slipped into me and started to move in a slow peace. He had stopped kissing me, and was now just watching my lips part as he added another finger.

I could not formulate a response in that moment, I was afraid that me saying something would have brought me back to reality, because even though I wanted him now so fucking bad, I knew that by the moment I walked out of that door I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. I pulled up a little bit just enough to allow our mouths to engage in a rough, messy kiss, lasting only a few instants before he got back kissing my neck.

His bites made me silently moan while my hands reached for his erection to massage it following the rhythm dictated from his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me Nikki…” I was finally able to say. He bit me again with a hoarse groan, causing me a sweet pain I would be cursing him for over the next couple days. His fingers slipped out of me.

“I was only waiting for you to ask me, babe,” he said getting up to pull away my thong in a haste. He leaned back on me and while kissing me softly he entered in me, in the same exact moment in which Tommy decided to join us in the room.

“Sixx do you kn… oh shit. sorry. Sorry! I… I haven’t seen anything, I swear!” Tommy started rambling covering his eyes with a hand.

“Shit,” I exclaimed grabbing the covers to hide my modesty, sliding away from the bassist.

“What the fuck! What part of knocking is not clear?!” Nikki looked really mad.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Tommy literally ran out the door, and probably went away to hide, leaving us alone again in an embarrassing silence. We stayed there, lying on our backs for a few seconds, avoiding each other’s eyes. Finally, I found the strength to get up and look for my stuff.

“Wait are you going for real?” Nikki asked pointing his elbows on the mattress.

“Well, the atmosphere is gone and plus you caught me in a moment of weakness, so…” I avoided his gaze finding my dress on the ground.

“So you’re just going to leave me here with a boner?” he asked, finally I turned to look at him. A little grin appeared on my lips.

“When you’re done jerking off, I’ll be in the kitchen with some coffee.” And as I said so I left the room.

*one week later*

I was singing along to Rick Springfield’s Jessie’s girl while organizing some new records that had been delivered that same morning. I had been working as a salesgirl at Remington Records for two years now and I considered it as my main job. It was a small music shop just a few blocks away from the Sunset Boulevard. Music was always playing out loud, the walls cluttered with signed pictures of bands that were yet to be discovered - Peter, the owner, collected ‘em in the hope of them gaining popularity, but by now he could count the ones who made it on just one hand.

Peter Remington Jr had inherited the shop from his father, and now he was patiently waiting for his son Jude to give up his dreams on a music career to go on with the family business.

“Do you need help, May?” Jude emerged from the back, walking towards me. He was the kind of guy every girl dreamed of, even with his feathered hair and chipped black nail polish he seemed like the classic boy next door. He could try to look as punk as he would but he looked too pure to be a rockstar.

“No honey I’m almost done,” I assured him while setting up the last records.

“Ya know my band is going to play at a party on Friday I was wondering if you wanted to come see us…” he queried. My eyes rose from the box to him.

“I would love to honey, but this weekend Mia will be with me, and ya know…” I lifted the empty box walking towards the counter. “Maybe next time,” I assured trying to hide the fact that it probably wasn’t gonna happen. It’s not that I didn’t support his dreams. I just wasn’t interested in following around a cover band whom members were pretty much only trying to gain popularity in order to fuck chicks was not my thing. You could hear the lack of passion in their performances; they didn’t care about their music, they were not able to weigh the lyrics and to give you an experience. Order Rythm… what a shitty name. Just as Mick would say: shitty name a hundred per cent of the time shitty band.

“Oh right, how is she doing?”

“She is doing great. She’s growing up so fast and she’s…” I was interrupted by the ring of the phone.

“Remington Records, Maya speaking, how can I help you?” I answered picking up the receiver.

“Oh Maya finally! I looked for you everywhere…” it was Ruby, my colleague at the club..

“Hi honey, what’s up?” I could hear an infomercial about slimming pants in the background.

“Yeah you know that I had booked this photoshoot for my book something like two months ago? Well the photographer is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G, but I can’t really go. I was wondering if you were interested in taking my place.” I had spent the past weeks looking for a photographer on a budget without success.

“Uhm I would say yes but how much is that?” I asked. I was not willing to waste my savings for a photoshoot with a guy I didn’t even knew.

“Uhm I believe it is 600 but I already paid half of it, so you’ll have to pay 300 and give the rest to me whenever you have it.”

“I don’t know Ru, you know I’m trying to save up some.”

“Oh c’mon I’m gonna lose ‘em anyways so you don’t have to pay me right away.” A few seconds of silence followed, I was weighing up the pros and cons of the offer.

“Well… I guess I can do it. But I’ not gonna pay you if the photos sucks, deal?” If I was going to spend a whole month of rent on pictures they better be worth it.

“Deal!” she exclaimed, “Did I already tell you how much I love you?”

“It will never be enough. I gotta go, see you tonight Ru.”

*later that same night*

“Did you forgot to put on pants, sweetheart?” Vince’s voice joined me as soon as I climbed over the window, he jokingly gave me a glare of disapproval. I looked down at my micro-shorts: they were black denim with some cool leather fringes on the sides.

“Why? It would be such a shame not to show this nice booty.” I replied getting closer to him to kiss his cheek. His arm embraced my hip.

“How you doin?” he questioned, while I fixed his blonde Barbie hair behind his ear. I looked around at the party guests - as usual a ton of people was hanging in the living room.

“I’m doing great… Is that David Lee Roth?” My attention was caught by the singer who was sitting on a couch with a plate full of rails.

“It seems like everybody wants to party with us, isn’t it cool?” I nodded in response.

“Do you think he would mind if I ask him to sign my ass?” I questioned; Vince leaned back to admire my lower back once again.

“I believe it is worth a signature,” he agreed.

“Well then I’ll go get my autograph, but first lemme find Tommy, he has some stuff for me,” I grinned caressing Vince’s fluffy hair one more time before leaving. I walked through the crowded room looking for the drummer. I grabbed a beer on the way, waving at some people I knew. After wandering around the small apartment for what felt like an eternity, asking people for Tommy, a guy directed me towards Vinnie and Tommy’s room, where he was supposed to be with some chick he had met. I knocked on the door one or two times and then opened it since there was no response.

Bad choice.

“Fuck, we said we’re busy here!” a girl screamed stopping but not moving from her position, she sounded pretty mad. Laying on Tommy’s bed, underneath the red-haired girl wasn’t Tommy, instead it was Nikki.

“Shit.. I’m sorry I didn’t know” I apologized looking at the two of them. Nikki lifted his hand waving at me in a sort of awkward and embarrassed salutation, his pants pulled down to his ankles. I lifted my hand as well. “Well, sorry for interrupting, ehm… have fun,” I muttered awkwardly, closing the door behind me. Okay that was weird. I didn’t even have the time to process what had just happened as Tommy decided to show up right behind me. Fuck him.

“Where the fuck was you? I might have just experienced one of the most traumatizing moments in my entire life.”

“Oh you mean Scarlet?” Tommy let a hand go through his hair trying not to seem so amused, “That girl is wild isn’t she?” I gave him a hard look.

“I’m not interested in knowing what that girl does in bed. I’m more interested in the special snow you promised me.” I switched subject for the sake of my mental stability.

The drummer puffed sliding a hand in his pocket “Well May-May you know I always keep my promises.” He handed me a bag full of white dust.

“Is this for real?” I asked over excited while opening it and picking up some with my red painted nail. Tommy nodded looking at me while I snorted the little quantity of dust, the party was about to begin.

Nikki’s POV

I pulled up my black jeans looking at the lady that was now resting on Tommy’s bed. I couldn’t remember her name but for sure I would have remembered that she wasn’t the girl for me. Her experience and extravagance was not enough to compensate the desire to shut her up every time one of her annoyingly high pitched moans - that seemed fake as fuck- left her lips.

I fastened my belt and left the room without saying a word. Vince was right behind the door waiting for his turn.

“Third ride?” My question made him giggle like a three year old who had got caught doing something bad. He sneaked in letting me out. I fixed my hair walking calmly towards the party. Some girls were dancing to Bringin’ on the Heartbreak by Def Leppard. I looked around for some booze only being able to find a half empty beer.

An easily recognizable laugh burst through the room, mixing pleasantly with the music “Oh c’mon let me go!” I turned looking for the girl that lately was the object of my desire. Tommy was holding her wrists pulling her on the couch with him while she was playfully trying to escape. She stumbled giving up on her attempt and landing straight on the drummer’s lap.

“Oh shut up, stop it!” I moved joining the duo, taking a sip of my almost empty bottle.

Tommy stopped tickling Maya’s sides as soon as I reached ‘em.

“Oh look who is gracing us with his presence,” she greeted me fixing her leopard blouse – one sleeve had slipped down her shoulder.

“That quickie lasted a little too long, Vince was so impatient waiting for you to come out,” Tommy added letting her free.

I shrugged “It’s not my fault, she wouldn’t shut her mouth… plus she…” My explanation was interrupted by Maya.

“For how much I would like to hear about your sexual encounter, I’m gonna go,” she announced lifting a black denim jacket from under Tommy’s butt.

“C’mon May-May I told we’re going but later!” The drummer protested causing her to back off a little in order to escape from his hold.

“It’s so early, are you really going home?” It was barely one in the morning.

“I’m not going home, I just wanna buy some booze down the street, there’s nothing to drink around here.” She wore her jacket ready to leave.

“You CAN’T go outside like that all alone.” Tommy glared at her shorts.

Maya rolled her eyes “Said my father…” She was not going to give up. She was so fucking stubborn it was almost annoying.

“I’m going with her,” I volunteered finishing my beer. Her pretty pouty face suddenly lit up in a smile.

“Chivalry isn’t dead after all… Let’s go.” And with that she made her way to the window.

I followed her not knowing that the 20-minute walk was going to be more interesting than the party itself.

#Motley Crue #motley crue fanfic #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfiction #douglas booth! nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx #vince neil imagine #vince neil fanfiction #Vince Neil #Tommy Lee #tommy lee fanfiction #tommy lee imagine #motley crue imagine #mick mars fanfic #Mick Mars #mick mars imagine

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gentlemanmendes · 6 years ago

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Philophobia | 8 |

Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist under Philophobia

08:

When I wake up the first thing I do is look around my dorm room only to find it empty. I’m not going to lie, that was a blow to the chest, I suppose shawn just isn’t done getting payback just yet and I can’t say I blame him.

When I had finished my little crying fit it had gotten a bit awkward so shawn had driven me back to my dorm and stayed with me all night. We hadn’t said much instead we just watched a few movies together off of my laptop and eventually drifted to sleep.

The fact that I’m upset was annoying me, I wanted to see shawn again today but I wasn’t about to tell him that. If only there was a way I could let him know I wanted to hang out with him with out seeming desperate. As if on queue my phone starts buzzing somewhere in the mess of sheets of my bed. I rummage through my sheets rapidly, throwing blankets and pillows everywhere trying to find it. As soon as my hand skims across the smooth glass I let out a victorious squeal before sliding my thumb across the screen to answer smiling to myself at who the caller was. I had heard my dad once saying that sometimes the thought of someone could cross your mind and their’s at the same time which is what could bring them to contact you whole your thinking of them, at the time I had thought it was a loud of rubbish but right now I can’t help but wonder if there is a slight possibility of truth to his words. I had been thinking of shawn and he had just randomly called me at that exact moment, call me crazy but I couldn’t help but thinking maybe it was fate.

“Hello.” I say into the phone and curse myself for the sickly sweet tone of my voice and the way I couldn’t stop smiling no matter how hard I tried to.

“Good you’re awake!” I hear shawn say followed by some rummaging in the background. I want to know where he is, what he is up to, what he’s done so far today, even if it was a boring answer I was curious to know. What is wrong with me? I never give a crap about other people nor am I one to care for small talk. I’m going to kill this boy for making me care, I swear!

“Yeah I just woke up.” I inform him with a shrug before physically face playing ‘I just woke up’ what am I a fifteen year old trying to come off as carefree?

“Yeah I figured.” I could picture shawn shrugging his shoulder and cocking his head slightly to the side with his hands loosely shoved into his pocket as he lazy replied. It was his go to trait when he replied to someone after nothing really needed to be said, it was like he was scared of leaving someone on read but instead of sending a pointless emoji he did that.

“I was thinking,” he starts off hesitantly his voice a little louder than usual as if he was forcing himself to spit it out. “That we could go get some breakfast, or lunch cause it’s almost two?” My smile widens and I do a fist pump at the fact that shawn had mentioned meeting up today first.

Usually we texted each other but today he had called, I couldn’t help but bring myself to believe that things were changing between shawn and I. Although neither of us had said anything yet it felt like we were crossing a bridge between friends to something more and I couldn’t help but feel like it was exciting. I have never been to this destination before nor have I liked a guy before but right now I wanted to jump right in and forget about common sense or any of my fears or self promises.

“Sounds good.” I was gong to reply with 'I’d love to’ until I re,here’s that I don’t say stuff like that and I sure as hell don’t plan to start anytime soon. I just need to keep being myself, which is usually the last thing I tell myself to do because apparently people don’t like a sarcastic, mean, asshole but with Shawn it seems to work.

“I’ll pick you up in about ten minute.” Shawn tells me and with the struggle in his tone I can picture him standing by the door of his apartment the side of his face pressed against his shoulder as he talks to me on the phone while attempting to pull his shoes on. I’m surprised that I can picture these things about shawn so vividly. I suppose in the last month of being friends I managed to pick up on stuff about him that I hadn’t even taken notice of until now. It was like I was seeing in colour for the first time; everything felt so much warmer, vibrant, and meaningful now.

“Alright see you then.” I hang up before realising that I only had ten minutes to get ready. My hair was a mess, my face blotchy and dark circles seemed to take over my eyes not to mention the fact that I’m positive majority of my clothes are dirty because I keep procrastinating on when to clean them. Tonight! I tell myself again though I know I won’t be following through with it. Jumping out of bed I decide that for the first time in a long time I will make my bed, don’t want shawn to rack up and see that I’m a messy sleepier, maybe I can impress him with how well I can make a bed, do guys look at that kind of stuff?

After trying on what little clothes I have left that are clean I decide to raid Mia’s wardrobe, the first and last time this would ever happen. Mia would freak out if she found out I was borrowing on of her white lacy casual dresses and take it the wrong way thinking I prefer her girly style over my ripped jeans and oversized shirts. It’s just that I want something to resemble how I feel right now, and right now I actually want to put a bit of effort in to my appearance. I contemplate for a long time whether I want to wear makeup or not before deciding on very minimal coverage and mascara before pulling on my converse and gathering my things before hurrying out the door texting shawn to pick me up from where he usually does. I cringe at how stupid that probably seemed considering he always picked me up from the same spot so naturally he would already be waiting for me there.

***

“A picnic? That is so cliche that I swear to god I’m going to throw up.” I groan as shawn sits down on the bench that looked over the lake. At least he hadn’t taken us to Central Park I honk then I defiantly would have thrown up from how cliche the concept was.

“It is not a picnic.” Shawn defended as he pulled out his sandwich from the paper bag and then handed it to me. “Picnics involve picnic baskets and picnic blankets, we are eating take away food in a public place, nothing cliche about that.” I laugh at Shawn’s lame defence that was I guess in some cases right and shrugged taking my sandwich from him. “Besides you don’t strike me as the type of person who likes being indoors.” I can’t hide the dreaming smile at Shawn’s words no matter how hard I try to.

He had only pointed out something small that I had never mentioned to him but he knew me well enough to know that I couldn’t handle being indoors for too long. It was true, indoors I felt trapped and as a person who couldn’t sit still for long it was a complete nightmare. Where as outside I felt like I had so much space to move around and do whatever I wanted. Mia had always made fun of the fact that for someone so lazy I was quite hyperactive but I just simply shrugged it off agreeing that I probably seemed crazy.

As I unwrap the sandwich I notice the pinky looking meat and frown lightly to myself. I know that it is all fresh because shawn didn’t make it but I pull a face causing shawn to question me about what was wrong in alarm.

“What type of meat is this?” I question, answering his question with a question of my own.

“Ham, why?” Shawn quizzed seeming more confused.

“I don’t eat ham.” I laughed aloud, maybe this guy didn’t know me as well as I was giving him credit for. “I’m Muslim remember.” I take out the meat in the sandwich and made to throw it to the ducks until I realised that may classify as cannibalism and hand it over to shawn who gladly adds it too his sandwich.

“So you are religious?"Shawn wonders. I don’t recall ever really having this conversation with him and can’t help but ponder on the thought of whether he knew I was Muslim. It was kind of obvious due to my name and brothers names but then again I separate myself from my family and everything they stand for so much that it could be a complete surprise.

"No, yes, I don’t know” I huff confused. Religion has always been a hard thing for me to grasp on. I know I believe in something but I can’t pass as religious because I drink and I’ve had sex and I don’t obey my mother and farther and rarely pray, okay so I’m a really bad Muslim and probably put shame on Islam but I guess I classify because that was how I was raised.

“Is there anything you do know about yourself Adee?” Shawn quizzes and I’m grateful he doesn’t dwell on the topic too much. He didn’t sit there and look at me differently, he didn’t judge me for my confused beliefs, he just went on like nothing had changed.

“Nope!” I exclaim proudly smiling up at him causing him to roll his eyes at me but give a small laugh in response.

Shawn and I talked about deeper stuff as we sat by the lake, he told me about how he grew up outside of LA on his parents beach front and only came to New York because his parents wanted him to study at a good university but then he deferred from law, which was what his parents wanted him to study, to focus on music. They were disappointed that he wasn’t following in his fathers footsteps but they didn’t cut him off or disown him for his choice. That was when I realised just how hypercritical my parents really were. They always went on about how non-Muslim families had no morals and didn’t know how to raise their children right but they were wrong. Shawn’s parents, although upset with his choice, still loved him and spoke to him every few days. I flew half way across the country for a weekend and still couldn’t get my parents to even look at me let alone speak to me. Sure I hadn’t handled it properly and probably shouldn’t have yelled at them but I was just so frustrated and hurt. Didn’t my grandpa move to America to give us a better future, to give us a choice, a chance to experience new things, a different life style. If they wanted to go about living their lives the exact same way they should just move back to the war torn country they had left, although it wasn’t war torn anymore.

“I’m curios about your background.” Shawn blurted out causing me to frown a I rested my head on his lap looking out at the changing scenery. I had never noticed before just how much the time of day affects things like the reflection of the water, or the colour of the leaves on a trees, you think as a photographer that would have been one of the first things I had learned; the affects of lighting and its angles, but I hadn’t taken notice until now.

“Why?” I snort. As a kid I hated being different. I was always teased in elementary school for it. The food I would bring was different to everyone else’s, while they had peanut butter sandwiches I had left over Lebanese food for dinner. Naturally I had spoken two languages at home; a mixture of Lebanese and English, it was weird because we would say half the sentence in English but then one word in Arabic and it was considered normal to me so that was what I did at school. They would say my name wrong on purpose just to make me cry. Elementary school had been very lonely and if it wasn’t for Mia I’m positive I would have never left home again. By middle school everyone was too confused on who they were becoming and thankfully I had learned to fit in and stay hidden But high school was the worst. That was when everyone understood what a Muslim was, or so they thought they did but instead the uneducated pricks associated it with terrorism and I got called all sorts of things. At first I cried, every night, but then I learned that I didn’t care because I wasn’t really religious. The more I acted out the more people forgot about my background. I think if it wasn’t for my parents constantly acting like we were so different Mia probably would have forgotten as well.

“Cause.” Shawn shrugged his shoulders as I turned so I was lying on my back looking up at him. “I don’t know, it’s different, it’s cool. Your family has history. Aren’t you proud of it.

"My grandpa was offered a job and moved out here and slowly made money until he had enough to bring out his wife, mum, and twelve kids. He died before I was born so I don’t know him.”

“Twelve kids?” Shawn quizzed baffled, we are talking abo a Lebanese family in sixties of course they had that many kids.

“Yeah, now you know why I hate family gatherings, their is never any food left.” I pout truthfully, it could also be the fact that I don’t get along with anyone but I think it’s mainly the food thing.

“What about your mums side?”

“I don’t know, she doesn’t really talk about them. Her mum died when she was very young and then her dad remarried when she was ten and his wife had four kids all around the same age who were horrible to her after her dad died when she was twelve. She was like a real life Cinderella. And Lebanon isn’t like here, there is either really rich or really poor, and they were poor. My mum didn’t get much at all. When she turned seventeen she was told on her eighteenth birthday she was to be married. She didn’t know who he was or anything about him except for the fact that he lived in America. I think back then it was easier to get a visa, so my parents married on my mums eighteenth birthday and my dad brought her back here. He taught her how to speak English when he wasn’t working and I guess slowly they learned to love each other. I mean they had six kids after that so.” I trailed off. I honestly hated my parents story. It was morbid and made me sad, they didn’t even know each other or fall in love and yet they were married. On their wedding day they had laid eyes on each other for the first time and then my mum moved to a whole knew country on the other side of the world with this man she didn’t even know. Yet I wasn’t aloud to do a photography class on the other side of the country?

“That’s crazy.” Shawn said amazed as he took in what I said. “Your parents never met before their wedding day, and twelve kids, I still can’t get over that.” Shawn seemed fascinated which actually worried me, it wasn’t that much. I know heaps of stories about arranged marriages if he wants to hear them.

“What about your parents? How did they meet?” It’s only fair he tells me the story about how his parents met. I know that this isn’t proper date talk but I couldn’t help but enjoy it. I felt like I was learning something knew about shawn even if it wasn’t a story about him, it was still interesting to know where he came from.

“My parents met at a train station. My mum had been traveling around Europe and my dad was on his way to a meeting, my dad had gotten on the wrong train and didn’t speak the language so my mum told him to get on the first train he saw and hope for the best, so he followed her onto her train and did just that.”

“That’s actually kind of cute, and that’s coming from me.” I blurt out causing shawn to laugh.

Tag list: @pattinsonshawn

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malecsecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @astudyinfic!

Title: Summary: Alec and Magnus both work at the Rollins Foundation, a non-profit LGBT charity started by their friend Dot in an effort to protect and nurture LGBT kids. This is where they meet Mia and Noah, transgender twins who have been kicked out by their parents after being outed.

A story of love, family, choices, and perseverance.

Read on AO3

*****

An Angel Came Down

Friday, March 18, 2011, Rollins Foundation Pediatric Therapists Department, Office of Dr. Magnus Bane.

Magnus sat silently as he observed the child sitting in front of him. They were picking at the couch threads, head ducked low to avoid eye contact. He didn’t have much information on them, but he could tell the signs of abuse when he saw them. He’d introduced himself already, and now he was just waiting.

He had a full 60 minutes with them, and even if he had to sit here silently the entire time, he would wait patiently and attempt to appear as easy going and non-threatening as possible.

“My name is Mia,” they mumbled, and Magnus perked up slightly.

“Okay, Mia,” Magnus said, “What pronouns do you go by?”

Mia’s head shot up at that, eyes wide in shock, “I’m a girl. I prefer she and her pronouns.”

Magnus smiled gently, “I’ll make sure everyone here knows that, then,” he reassured her. Her lips twitched, and her eyes softened.

“No one’s ever reacted to me that way,” she said softly, “especially not my parents.”

“Well, I assure you, Mia,” Magnus said, “The Rollins Foundation will make sure you are safe and comfortable from here on out. You can continue to stay here, or if you like, we can find you a new home. Whatever you decide.”

“I get to choose?” she asked, and Magnus nodded. “Will I get to stay with my brother?”

“Of course, we would never separate you if you didn’t wish it,” Magnus insisted.

Mia smiled at that, full and bright, and Magnus couldn’t help but smile back.

“How would you feel about telling me about your home life before you came here?” Magnus prodded gently.

Mia sucked in a breath, then nodded, “My parents were never really tolerant of being different…”

Friday, March 18, 2011, Rollins Foundation Pediatricians Department, Office of Dr. Alexander Lightwood.

“Hello, there,” he said upon walking in, smiling gently at the child sitting on the medical table, “I’m Dr. Lightwood. What’s your name?”

The child looked up briefly before ducking their head back down, causing Alec to frown. Most children he encountered here were especially closed off and withdrawn, but it still shook him to the core every time.

“Noah,” they muttered, and it was so low that Alec almost didn’t hear it.

“Okay, Noah,” Alec said, writing the name down on his clipboard, “And what pronouns do you use?”

Noah’s head shot up at the question, clearly shocked. Alec smiled, knowing how much the question meant to these kids.

“I like he and him,” he whispered, “I’m a boy, but people don’t ever believe me when I tell them that.”

“I believe you, Noah,” Alec insisted, “and around here, we consider it standard operating procedure to learn our patients’ pronouns before we examine or get to know them.”

“Cool,” Noah muttered, still taken aback by Alec’s reactions to his gender identity.

“So, Noah,” Alec said, “When is your birthday?”

“May 7, 1999,” he said, snapping back to focus.

Alec noted the date in his charts before continuing.

“Thank you. Now, before I begin your physical, I have some questions for you if that’s alright.” Alec said, pulling up a chair to settle in so that he could make Noah feel more comfortable. Noah nodded stiffly.

“So, first and foremost, I will never do anything that makes you uncomfortable, alright?” Alec said, and Noah relaxed a little, nodding again, “I will always ask your permission before doing anything.”

Alec waited for Noah’s signal to continue, and when he nodded again, Alec smiled, “Do you know what it means to be transgender, Noah?” Alec asked, taking a guess on Noah’s gender identity based on his earlier reactions.

“Yeah,” Noah said, “When we were at school, me and my sister would spend most of our free time in the library because our parents didn’t let us go online at home. We found a lot of that stuff on google and tumblr.”

“And do you identify as transgender?” Alec inquired.

“Yeah,” Noah said, “My sister does, too.”

Alec nodded, noting the information in his charts.

“Do you know what gender dysphoria is, then?” Alec asked, trying to get a feel for how Noah felt about his own body, and what he might be able to do about it.

“That one kind of confuses me,” Noah admitted, “There was a lot of information about it that didn’t make sense. I know it means something like not being comfortable in your own body, but I’m not really sure what it means for me.”

“Put simply, gender dysphoria is when you feel distress regarding the gender assigned to you at birth,” Alec explained, “It can mean different things for different people. For some, it just means they would prefer to change their appearance on the surface by doing things like growing out or cutting their hair. For others, it can mean that they want to change their body through hormone therapy and gender reassignment surgery. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Noah said, “I think the second thing describes me.”

“So you want to change your body?” Alec asked, seeking confirmation.

“Yeah, I think so,” Noah said, “But I’m scared. What if it hurts me? What if I don’t like the change? I know I don’t like my body now, but…”

“That’s alright,” Alec reassured, “Such big change can be scary, especially when you’re not fully grown, but don’t worry; if you want, we can just start with puberty blockers and move from there.”

“Puberty blockers?” Noah asked, tilting his head slightly in his confusion.

“They pretty much just stop your body from forming the permanent developments of your assigned gender. For you, it would prevent your breasts from growing as well as menstruation.”

Noah smiled brightly, “Really?”

“Really,” Alec assured, returning the smile.

“Would you do the same thing for my sister?” he asked.

“If it’s what she wants, yes, I can do that,” Alec said, and Noah practically jumped with joy in his seat.

Alec stood from his seat, grabbing the stethoscope hanging around his neck, “Well then, it’s time to start your physical,” he said, “Can you sit up straight for me? I’m just going press this against your back through your shirt; I’ll avoid your chest if you want me to.”

Noah sat up straight, taking a deep breath, and nodded.

Later that same day.

Magnus rolled his shoulders as he walked down the hallway, letting out a deep sigh. He perked up, though, as he spotted Alec walking in his direction.

“Alexander,” he called, “I was just on my way to your office.”

“So was I,” he said with amusement, greeting him with a short kiss. Magnus hummed, lingering for a moment as he rested his hands on Alec’s shoulders.

“Long day,” Alec commented, and they both knew it was in reference to the twins the Foundation had taken in that day.

“Indeed,” Magnus agreed, “I kind of hope they stay here. I would hate for them to be relocated so soon.”

“You just like them,” Alec teased, smiling down at his husband. Magnus smiled back, lips pulled tight across his face.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “I really do.”

“Maybe we’ll keep them,” Alec suggested, and it was supposed to be a teasing sort of tone, but they both knew what he really meant.

“Maybe,” Magnus agreed.

Friday, April 15, 2011. The residence of Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane.

Ever since their initial appointment with the twins last month, the two had decided to stay at the Foundation, at least for the time being. Every Friday, Magnus has individual back-to-back therapy appointments with them. Alec hasn’t seen them since, but Magnus keeps him updated on how they’re doing (without revealing anything that would breach patient-therapist confidentiality, of course).

Since they both began working at the Rollins Foundation together, Fridays have become a sort of regular date night for the two of them. They usually go out- typically a bar or restaurant, followed by a late night stroll- but tonight Magnus was far too emotionally exhausted to leave the apartment. Alec offered to make dinner while Magnus took a bath, which he gladly accepted, knowing the hot water would soothe his sore muscles as well as his nerves.

He was just toweling off and getting dressed in a more casual outfit when he heard Alec calling for him from the kitchen. He called back, telling his husband he would be just a minute and slid his shirt on.

Entering the kitchen, he saw his husband grabbing two plates to set them up on the dining room table. Just as Alec turns around, seeing Magnus standing before him, his face lighting up into a bright smile at the sight of his husband.

“Hey, babe,” he said, leaning down slightly to press a kiss to his damp hair, “feeling better?”

“Much, thank you,” Magnus responded, grabbing one of the plates and leading into the dining room. He set the plate down, sliding into his chair as Alec did the same on the other side of the small table.

“Good,” Alec remarked, reaching his hand across to intertwine his fingers with Magnus’ for a moment before reaching back to pour the wine.

Magnus hummed, appreciating his husband greatly. The dinner was delicious and the wine paired well with the pasta Alec had made. As they talked about their days, laughing at the kids’ antics and basking in the love for their jobs, Magnus found himself lost in his thoughts.

“Magnus,” Alec said, eyebrows furrowing, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, love,” Magnus responded, taking a moment to sip his wine, “It’s just…”

“The twins?” Alec prompted, knowing quite well how enamored Magnus was with them, and how protective he felt towards them.

“The twins,” Magnus confirmed, “I just want them to have a happy life, a functional family.”

“Magnus, can I ask you something?” Alec said, and Magnus could see the puzzle he was trying to put together in the way his face scrunched up slightly.

“Of course, Alexander,” Magnus said, prepared for about a million things Alec could be asking him in this moment.

“What is it about these twins that has you so upset?” Alec asked, “You’ve seen hundreds of kids, all of whom have faced unspeakable abuse and discrimination in their lives. What’s different about it this time?”

Magnus considered that for a moment, though if he was being entirely honest, he already knew the answer. Nonetheless, he allowed the question to sink in, mulling over the words he could use to somehow express that, somehow, everything and nothing about these kids were different.

“I’m not really sure how to explain it,” Magnus decided, “But these kids they just- they feel like family, somehow. They feel like they’re my kids.”

Alec didn’t say anything, just grabbed Magnus’ hand, swiping his thumb over his wrist. He smiled, bringing up their joined hands to press a kiss to Magnus’ palm.

“So we’ll make it happen,” Alec said, and Magnus smiled, eyes wet with emotion.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Alec agreed.

February 13, 2012. Residence of Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane.

As they show the twins around the loft, Alec reminisces on the moment they had asked Mia and Noah if they would like to be adopted by them. He remembers the shock, the happiness, the fear- but most of all, he remembers how it felt to gather them into his arms, holding them tight and promising to never let go. He kept his promise, despite the hoops they’d had to leap through, the homophobia and racism they faced from the courts prolonging the process by at least 6 months.

Mia and Noah have two separate bedrooms, so that they can have their own separate space, but they also have a door leading to each other’s rooms for when they want to spend time together. They both have queen size beds- courtesy of Raphael- and their rooms are painted a neutral gray. Clary painted murals in both rooms based off the twins’ interests; Mia had a simple black Parisian skyline, and Noah had a lush green forest.

In a few months, on May 7, the twins would be 13. They’ve been planning the party since the new year, when they’d gotten the confirmation from their social worker that they would be given custody of the twins in just over a month’s time. They invited their family and close friends, as well as some of the friends the kids had made at the Foundation in the time they’d lived there. It was, of course, being kept a secret from the twins; they wanted to be able to give them a nice surprise for their birthday.

“So?” Magnus prompted, “Do you like it?”

In lieu of an answer, Mia and Noah shared a brief glance before launching themselves into Magnus’ arms, surprising him enough that he fell back into Alec, who just barely managed to stop them from falling to the floor.

“We love you guys,” Mia muttered into Magnus’ chest, and Noah nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Magnus pressed kisses into their hair, gripping them tighter, and Alec wrapped his arms around the three of them.

“We love you, too,” Alec said, squeezing tight. “We always will.”

December 24, 2013. JFK Airport

“Yeah, mom’s at the airport now,” Alec said into the phone as he climbed into the driver side of the car. He promised Magnus he would call as soon as he dropped his mother off for her flight.

“Yeah, it does,” Alec sighed in agreement, “But they always having a meeting on Christmas. It’s unavoidable, though.”

Alec listens to his husband on the other end of the line, humming along to the conversation as he pulled out of his parking spot and began driving home, one hand on the wheel and the other pressing the phone against his ear.

“You know, the entire way here she was telling me how much she wanted to spend time with her grandkids on Christmas,” he told Magnus, “Maybe we can surprise her tomorrow and give her a video call before the meeting starts.”

“Alright, babe,” Alec said, his husband having just informed him that he could hear the twins awake in the other room, “I’ll let you go. I’m gonna get some gas on the way home. Yeah, love you too. Bye.”

As he hung up, he pulled into the gas station parking lot, driving up to one of the pumps. He gets out, methodically swiping his card and filling up the car. He’s the only one there at the moment, and it’s quiet. He starts humming to fill the silence when, as he’s walking back to the driver’s side door, he thinks he hears someone crying. He stops and listens, straining his ears to try and pick up what the sound is and where it’s coming from. After a moment, he’s able to determine that it’s coming from the dumpster on the side of the building, so he begins walking towards it out of curiosity.

He stills when he reaches the dumpster, finally placing that unmistakable sound. He forces himself to move, walking swiftly to the back side of the dumpster, spotting the bundle of worn blankets shifting on the ground. He leans down and picks the bundle up, cooing and soothing the baby wrapped up inside. He bounces the baby a few times, trying to calm it down and also hoping to warm it up in the freezing December air before deciding heading to the car would be the wisest course of action.

As he starts the car up, the child still held tightly in his arms, he moves part of the blanket back to look at the child more closely. The baby is too pale, lips turning blue, but her cheeks are flushed. He checks her forehead for fever and gasps at the burning heat he feels. As he unwraps the rest of the blanket, he sees that the baby has no clothes on, and observes that she’s a girl. As he carefully examines her further, he guesses that she’s probably 2-3 months old, though it’s hard to tell when he has no idea what conditions this little girl has grown up in.

Although she is no longer crying, she is still whimpering and kicking about, so he wraps her back up in the blanket, swaddling her tightly. Swinging around to face the backseat, he sighs in relief at the sight of the rear-facing car seat he still had from when he’d babysitted Madzie last night.

Climbing out of the car, he quickly fastens her into the car seat. He climbs back into the driver’s side, quickly (but carefully) driving in the direction of the nearest hospital, knowing that despite how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to take this baby to his own home to take care of her.

December, 25, 2013, 12:01 AM. ER Waiting Room.

Alec walked through the waiting room doors, pocketing his cell phone. He’d just gotten off the phone with Magnus, rushing to inform him of the situation so that he could get back to the little girl. Magnus understood, assuring him they would discuss it more when he returned home. He’d also assured Alec that, after some wrestling, he’d managed to put the twins back to bed and they were now sound asleep, and he was currently arranging the “santa gifts” in the stockings.

Just as he was about to sit back down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, the doctor he’d spoken to earlier walked in. He stood up quickly, walking to meet the doctor half way.

“How is she?” Alec asked.

“She has a high fever, but we’re confident that she’ll pull through,” the doctor said, “We’re trying to find the girl’s family, but it’s not going to be easy. She will likely end up in the foster system.”

“No,” Alec insisted, shaking his head, “I won’t let that happen to her.”

The doctor seemed mildly amused, but he shook his head sadly, “Unless you plan on adopting her, there’s nothing you can do about it,” he said, “And even if you do decide to go that route, she will likely end up in the state’s custody for a short period of time during the process.”

Alec bit his lip, and nodded, “Alright,” he said, “Will you give me a call if there’s anything new? I know I’m not the child’s father, but-”

“You brought her in,” the doctor agreed, “Yes, we’ll call you if there are any updates.”

Alec thanked him before gathering his stuff to leave. Him and Magnus were going to be having a long night.

December, 25, 2013, 12:38 AM. Residence of Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane.

Magnus was just finishing up the final touches on the stockings when Alec walked in the door. He immediately stops what he’s doing and walks to his husband, wrapping him up in his arms, kissing his forehead lightly. They sway there for a moment, breathing each other in, inhaling one another’s love.

Alec pulls back slightly to look Magnus in the eye and give a short kiss, but he remains wrapped in his embrace, “She was just a little girl,” Alec said, voice trembling on every breath, “Just- left there, in a dumpster. Like she was trash.”

“I know, my love,” Magnus soothed, “You have such a kind heart. We’ll make sure she’s alright, we’ll make sure she’s loved. No matter what. I promise.”

“I love you,” Alec mumbled, sagging into his husband.

“I love you, too,” Magnus said.

May 10, 2014. Residence of Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane.

It’s not even 6 AM when the phone starts ringing, and Alec groans as he reaches over to answer it.

He’s not prepared for the news that comes through on the other end of the line.

Shooting up, he starts shaking Magnus awake, insisting despite Magnus’ displeased grunts.

“Magnus, babe, wake up,” Alec whispers, “It’s Ellie.”

Magnus shoots up immediately at the name, awake in the blink of an eye.

“She’s ours, Magnus,” Alec says, grin widening, “We’re supposed to pick her up today.”

“That’s great, Alexander,” Magnus says, and his eyes are so light and happy Alec can’t help but attack him with a million kisses, grateful to have this man by his side, raising a family together.

They giggle quietly, being sure not to wake the twins, when Magnus suddenly gasps, “Alexander, their birthday party is today,” he said, “What do we do?”

Alec thinks for a moment, then grins manically, “I’ve got an idea.”

May 10, 2014, 2:34 PM. Mia and Noah’s 15th birthday party.

Mia and Noah were sulking in the corner, doing their best not to complain that their dad couldn’t make it to the party because of a work emergency. They were talking in hushed tones, glancing around the room every so often.

Magnus stood with Maryse on the other side of the room, observing the twins. He’d already informed the rest of the family about the situation, intending to make the arrival of their new baby sister a surprise for the twins. In past years, the twins typically had their friends over for their party, but this year they decided on doing something else separately with their friends instead. Magnus had never been against the idea, but now that he could see the twins so obviously upset, he was glad for it. At least now the twins wouldn’t have to worry about entertaining their friends when they were so put out about Alec being gone.

“I’m surprised you’ve held out this long,” Maryse commented, amused.

“Well, if I didn’t know Alexander was on his way home already, I probably wouldn’t have,” Magnus admitted. He hated seeing his children so listless.

Maryse smiled, but she didn’t say anything further, choosing instead to watch the twins some more. Magnus sipped at his drink idly, fiddling with the ear cuff in an effort to burn off some of the nervous energy. Just then, he heard the ring of the doorbell and he grinned, knowing who was behind the door.

“Mia, Noah,” Magnus called, “Would you mind gathering the rest of the guests in the living room while I go get the door? It’s about time for cake and presents.”

The twins just nodded unenthusiastically and left to do as he asked. Magnus huffed a little laugh at their behavior as he walked to the front door, Maryse in tow. He gasped when he opened the front door despite himself. Staring upon the baby cradled in Alec’s arms, he felt tears prick his eyes. His eyes flit upwards, meeting Alec’s own damp gaze, and he laughed.

“That’s really her?” Magnus asked, “Our little Ellie?”

“Yeah, it’s her,” Alec agreed, moving to hand the young girl over to Magnus. Magnus gently cradled her head, careful not to wake the sleeping babe. She squirmed a little, though, and he quickly shushed her, lulling her back to a peaceful rest. Maryse leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at her granddaughter.

“Papa!” The twins called in unison, and Magnus startled back into reality. “Everyone’s in the living room now!”

“Here,” Magnus said, quickly but carefully handing Ellie over to Maryse. Alec stepped around his mother to stand beside Magnus, and they both formed a sort of secretive barrier to hide Maryse and the baby from the twins as they walked into the living room.

“Daddy!” The twins gasped, running towards Alec. Magnus shifted over in order to keep Maryse out of sight for a little longer as Alec rushed forward to hug the twins.

“We didn’t think you would be here,” Mia admitted, tears staining her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Alec said, hugging them tighter.

Magnus noticed that Izzy was recording in the background and he smiled softly, glad to know this moment would be captured and relived for years to come. Cat, Dot, and Madzie were sitting on the couch, Ragnor on the loveseat and Raphael in the armchair. Clary was sitting in the recliner, staring up at Izzy lovingly. Jace and Simon were standing by the glass doors leading to the balcony, leaning up against the wall. Max was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, also recording on his phone.

“I have a surprise for you guys,” Alec said as he stood, turning to face Magnus. He nodded and Magnus moved out of Maryse’s way, and the twins gasped when they saw the bundle held in Maryse’s arms.

“Is that-?” Noah asked, hesitant. He remembered the long adoption process they had suffered through, a little disbelieving that Ellie would be theirs so soon.

“Yeah, baby,” Magnus said, “It’s Ellie.”

Mia and Noah rushed forward to get a look at her, cooing quietly when they noticed she was sound asleep. Maryse handed Ellie over to Noah first, and after a good 20 minutes, he handed her off to Mia.

Cake and presents were long forgotten in favor of the newest addition to the family.

July 1, 2015, The Rollins Foundation Courtyard.

10 years ago, Alec was almost 26 years old and just coming out of med school.

10 years ago, Magnus was almost 30 years old and starting his first year as a therapist at the Rollins Foundation.

10 years ago, Magnus and Alec went from fiances to husbands.

Today, it’s been nearly a week since the Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage across all 50 states. Now, on their 10th anniversary, Magnus and Alec are surrounded by friends and family, Mia and Noah on either side of them as Ellie walks towards them, spreading rose petals across the aisle. Alec can see his mother surreptitiously swiping under her eyes from where he stands in front of Magnus, and his smile grows bigger at the sight of it. When Ellie gets to the end of the aisle, Maryse grabs her into her arms, setting her in her lap. Luke, who was overseeing the ceremony, gestured for Magnus to begin.

“10 years ago today, I promised you my life and my love, through sickness and health, and poverty and wealth. When we got married, I knew that I would never stop loving you,” Magnus said, taking a deep breath as he squeezed Alec’s hands in his, “I knew that you would never stop loving me- but I never imagined having so much happiness and joy, despite everything we’ve been through.

“When we made the decision to adopt Mia and Noah, we knew how difficult it would be. New York may be more accepting than certain other states, but homophobia prevails everywhere, in all walks of life. We knew that the government would look down on us for not having a legal union, but we pushed through that and we won.”

Magnus raised one of his hands from Alec’s grip to rest it against his cheek, and Alec leaned into it slightly.

“Getting Ellie was easier, but it wasn’t easy. I still have nightmares about what would have happened had we not-” Magnus cleared his throat, “Had we not been able to adopt her.”

Alec nodded, encouraging Magnus silently, knowing how difficult it was for both of them to relive that time of their lives. They’d argued frequently- though they were always sure not to expose Mia and Noah to their disagreements- and it had put a strain on their relationship those months they didn’t have her.

“Despite that, despite everything, we fought for our love, for our family,” Magnus continued, “We fought for each other. I will never take that time in our lives for granted, because even though life tried so hard to wear us down, we came back stronger for it and I couldn’t be happier knowing that. I love you, Alexander, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” Alec whispered, leaning further into Magnus’ hand, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

“When we first met, I wasn’t in a very good state of mind,” Alec began, voice trembling slightly at the rush of memories and waves of emotion, “I had just come out of the closet, and I had just started med school. My stress was through the roof- but then I saw you for the first time, and I just- it all melted away. It felt like nothing in the world was more important than seeing you, maybe even getting to know you, becoming friends with you. I could tell, even then, that you were a big part of my life- I just never imagined how big a role you would be playing.”

Magnus laughed at that, remembering their first meeting. It wasn’t particularly grand; they just happened to catch each other’s eye in the coffee shop, and Magnus had decided to go over and introduce himself. The rest, as they say, was history.

“I didn’t really write or plan anything for these vows,” Alec admitted sheepishly, and the audience laughed at that, Mia and Noah snickering behind their hands, “I tried, but I just couldn’t come up with anything that could really express how much I love you, so I just didn’t. I knew I’d come up with something to say when I saw you.”

Magnus shook his head at him, amused by his husband’s tendency to spout his honest feelings without a second thought. He caressed his thumb across his cheek, wiping the tears gathering under his eyes.

“I’m honestly still reeling from the Supreme Court decision. Everytime I think about it, I can’t help but imagine what this ceremony would have been like had they cast their vote in the opposite direction.”

They’d been planning this vow renewal for a few months, now. They’d been hoping the Supreme Court would make the right decision, of course, but the uncertainty had caused some frayed nerves. Even now, it felt like it could all be ripped away at just a moment’s notice. It didn’t quite seem real.

“All I really know- all I’ve ever really known- is how much I love you. Nothing will ever be able to change that.” Alec shook his head slightly, knowing his words to be true, “I can’t live without you, Magnus, and I definitely can’t live without these kids. You all mean so much to me, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Mia sniffled behind Alec, trying hard not to cry; Noah didn’t seem to have the same issue as his sister, choosing to openly express his tears. Ellie didn’t really know what was going on, her two year old attention span wandering constantly.

“I love you, Magnus,” Alec said finally, ducking down to kiss Magnus deeply. The twins pretended to be disgusted, sticking their tongues out and faking gags, but everyone knew how deeply they adored their fathers’ love for each other.

“I love you, too,” Magnus replied when they pulled apart. They smiled brightly, giggles bubbling up in their throats as they dove back in for a second kiss. Alec wrapped his arms around Magnus’ neck and Magnus wrapped his own around Alec’s waist. They sunk into one another, moving together without a second thought, breathing the other in.

Love conquers all, in the end.

#astudyinfic #malecsanta18 #*fics18 #*gifts18

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veteran-shipper · 6 years ago

Text

Voltron’s Anatomy

part 2 of ???

so i realize that doing all how-many-bajillion episodes of grey’s anatomy is an improbable task. i’ll probably be mixing and matching episodes because ain’t nobody got time for that, least of all me. plus, let’s be real. we were really only in it for Der and Mer’s Epic Love Story.

alternatively titled: never air to breathe (never inbetweens).

Pidge slams her locker shut in frustration. “I have got to move out from my parents’ place,” she announces, yanking viciously at her shoelaces.

“What’s up?” Hunk asks, his forehead creased with concern.

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m just sick and tired of all the tension because my brother Matt has been MIA. It feels like I’ve been walking on eggshells ever since I moved back for residency. They’re being overprotective, and as much as I understand, I’m a god damn adult, and I can handle the shifts I signed on for. The fact that they also work here is literally my worst nightmare. I can’t believe I agreed to come back.”

“Why don’t you move into my place, then?” Keith suggests, shrugging his white coat on. “I have the space.”

“I thought you were trying to sell it?” Hunk says, mildly surprised. “What changed?”

Keith shrugs. “I just never got around to it. Plus, I moved back here, didn’t I? Might as well keep it around and get some roommates. It’s practically a family heirloom at this point. What do you say? I’ll keep rent reasonable.”

“I’ll think about it,” Pidge says with a shrug.

“Sure, just let me know whenever. I have two rooms up for grabs if you want in, too, Hunk,” Keith adds.

“It would be nice to be in a full house again,” Hunk says wistfully. “I’ve basically been crashing on my uncle’s couch since moving here from Hawaii.”

The three of them approach Altea for their assignments of the day. Altea’s eyes narrow. “Where’s Lance?” she asks. Keith shoves his hands in his coat pockets and shrugs.

“Dr. Altea! Sorry to keep you waiting!” Lance skids to a stop, just barely keeping a tray of coffees from tipping over. “I brought you a coffee--mocha, soy, just the way you like it.”

Altea looks slightly mollified as she plucks the coffee out of the tray. “Thank you, Lance, but next time, apologize by being on time,” she says dryly. “You’re on code team. Keith, take the trauma pager. Pidge, deliver the weekend lab results to their patients. Hunk, you’re on sutures.” She turns on her heels and starts to walk away.

“Dr. Altea!” Lance says, stopping her in her tracks. “I was wondering if I could assist you in the OR today? I think I’m ready. You know, for a minor procedure or something like that.”

“Hey! If he gets to cut, I want to cut, too!” Pidge says, elbowing Lance out of the way.

“Me too!” Keith interjects.

Hunk gulps. “Yeah, I guess,” he adds lamely.

“Okay, stop.” Altea puts her hands on her hips, eyes blue steel. “Every intern wants a chance to perform their first surgery. But that’s not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make me happy. Do I look happy? No, because my interns aren’t doing the jobs I told them to do. Nobody gets to even touch a cadaver until I think you’re ready, understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” the interns mumble collectively.

“Now move!” Altea makes a shooing motion with her hands, and the interns scatter off to their various jobs. “Vrepit Sal’s Dead Baby Bike Race starts in six hours and I need my weekend labs run and my code team staffed!”

Shiro was idly tapping on his phone when he spots Keith pressing the button for the elevator. Pocketing his phone, he saunters as casually as he can until he’s within an arm’s length of Keith’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you rode a bike,” he says in Keith’s ear, trying for casual.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Keith asks, not diverting his attention away from the ticker.

“No, I mean, a motorbike--a motorcycle,” Shiro backtracks with an internal grimace. The elevator dings, signalling its arrival. Ah, saved by the bell, he thinks to himself. “I have one, too. Never expected Nevada to be such a good place to go for a late night ride.”

Keith tries to suppress his smile as the elevator’s occupants file out. He and Shiro get on together and stand side by side as they wait for the doors to close. Shiro continues to ramble. “Now I have to like it here. I’m from Seattle. I’m not supposed to like how dry and deserted it is here. I have a thing for motorcycles,” he finishes lamely as the doors close and the serene elevator music starts up.

“I’m not going out with you,” Keith says to break the monotony of the music.

“Did I ask you do go out with me?” Shiro mentally palms himself in the face. Yes you did, you idiot, he chastises himself. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I’m not dating you,” Keith reiterates. “And I’m definitely not sleeping with you again. You’re my boss.”

“I’m your boss’ boss,” Shiro corrects before he can help himself. Idiot! That makes nothing better, his inner monologue whacks him over the head.

“Regardless, this is inappropriate,” Keith says firmly. “This is grounds for sexual harassment.”

Shiro turns to face him. “I’m riding an elevator,” he says mildly.

“Don’t come any closer,” Keith says, a flush riding high on his cheeks, clashing horribly with the orange scrubs.

“Red’s a good closer on you,” Shiro says, and closes the gap between them, tangling one hand in Keith’s hair, dislodging the little pony tail, and wrapping the other around his waist. Keith flips their positions and pushes Shiro against the elevator wall, smashing his charts haphazardly between their chests as he fights to get closer to Shiro’s mouth. He reaches up to tug Shiro down by the back of his neck, biting gently on his bottom lip, gasping softly at the feel of the cool metal of the prosthetic sliding lower and playing with the waistband of his thin scrubs.

Just as Shiro’s about to go for the full on ass grab, the elevator dings, and they hastily break apart, Keith’s files spilling onto the floor between the two of them.

“Oh fuck,” Keith rasps, gathering up the files as quickly as he can and marching off to see his patients. Shiro’s gaze follows him, dazed and forlorn as nurses and other hospital staff file in, none the wiser.

Keith walks into a room filled with nurses and PAs rushing around, a hand absentmindedly on his bottom lip, mind a million floors away with Dr. Shirogane.

“There you are!” A harried looking PA comes into his field of view. “We’ve got a rape victim. She came in with a GCS of six, BP eighty over sixty. Exam is significant for blunt head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated. We think she ran right into the bike race,” he rattles off. “She’s ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?”

Keith blankly surveys the room, taking in the blood on the body, the ruined shoes that haven’t yet been bagged, and--

“Hey!”

“Is that a penis?” Keith asks, peering into the kidney tray. It’s resting on ice, and definitely looking worse for wear. “Yeah/ Call ahead to CT. Let them know I’m coming. Load a portable monitor, and call Respiratory for a ventilator,” he orders, checking her eyes himself and her breathing tube. “I’ll do x-rays while I’m down there.”

The PA grunts in amusement. “Tough lady. Bit it right off. We found it in her mouth.”

“What a warrior,” Keith murmurs softly, checking her chart.

He takes responsibility over her and follows her from her scans into emergency surgery, where he and a couple of the less busy interns observe as Shirogane, Iverson, and Coran work to set her bones back in place and fix the internal bleeding. Shirogane lets out a low whistle as he works on setting her arm. “He really did a number on her. What is she? Five foot two, not even a hundred pounds?”

“Yeah, she’s going to spend a helluva time in recovery,” Coran says, jovial as always. “Really gave him a good walloping, though. Clearly a case of ‘You should see the other guy.’ I heard the rape kit came back negative.”

“She bit his penis off,” Keith offers. “It was in a kidney dish when I went to go get her for scans.”

The three attendings heads swivel to look at him, their hands never stopping their work. “What in tarnation?” Iverson says, incredulous.

“Jesus,” Coran says. “Well, if she can fight off the infection, she can fight off anything.”

They start to close on the patient, and before Keith can slip out to round, he hears Iverson call his name. Or, more accurately, his “designated Intern number assigned by the one-and-only Coran.”

“Intern number 3!” Keith pauses. “I need you to stay with the penis until the police arrive. Chain of custody rules, and all,” he barks.

Keith blanches. “Seriously?” he asks, looking at the small cooler they’d placed the severed body part in.

“That’s an order, intern!” Iverson says, pulling closed a stitch. Keith sighs and grabs the cooler before exiting.

Over at the HUB, Pidge sorts through the labs while Lance toys with his pager and gloats about his assignment.

“Code team rocks,” he says with a smug grin. “One minute I get to shock a heart back to life, and the next minute I have my arms full of grateful daughters and sisters.”

Pidge stacks a lab report a little harder than necessary on top of her growing stack. “You know, I have an MD/PhD from Stanford, and I’m delivering patient labs. This is going to take me all day,” she says, annoyed.

Altea whisks by briskly. “Better get started then!” she says, sipping daintily at her mocha latte. “Lance, with me!” she says. “I need as many hands as I can find, and since you’re not doing anything, you’re going to help me wade through this disaster coming in.” Lance’s expression brightens and he hurries after her, pager beeping.

“Oh! Uh, I wasn’t complaining,” Pidge says weakly, grabbing her stack of labs and hurrying off. If she's fast enough, she decides, she might be able to put staples in someone’s wound.

Cooler in hand, Keith runs into the ER just in time to see multiple stretchers being brought in. “Keith!” Altea says. “Excellent timing! I need you to help Hunk with some suturing and debridement in beds four through 8! What is that?” she asks, pointing at the the cooler.

“I’m babysitting a penis until the police get here,” Keith says, already moving towards bed four, where Hunk is dealing with a particularly rowdy bicyclist who didn’t seem particularly interested in staying for x-rays.

Along the way, he sees Shiro, sitting with his unconscious patient, flipping through her chart, though he chooses not to stop in favor of setting the cooler down and grabbing a suture kit.

“Sir, I highly recommend that you stay for X-rays,” Hunk says, a firm hand on the bicyclist’s shoulder.

“What? No! I need to get back to the race!”

“Sir, please,” Hunk says again. “You might have internal bleeding. I don’t feel comfortable taking those bike spokes out until you’ve had a thorough check up.”

His patient rolls his eyes. Then, he grits his teeth and, before Hunk and Keith can do any more than exclaim in alarm, grasps the bike spokes, pulling all four of them out with a grunt. “See?” he says, with a ta-dah wave of his hands. “No swooning, no fainting. I’m fine.”

Hunk shakes his head, holding a kidney tray for him to place the metal spikes. “Keith, this guy’s all yours. I’m going to move on to the next one.”

“Ah! Hunk!” Coran catches Hunk before he can check on the brain dead guy in bed 5. “Just the doctor I wanted to see! I’m going to be stuck in the OR all day today doing repairs, and I need someone I can rely on to check on my pre- and post-op patients. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh, yes sir!” Hunk says.

“Oh, and one of them, Mr. Mackie, is a good friend of mine. Make sure you get him everything he needs.”

“Got it,” Hunk says, leaving Keith behind to deal with the victims of the race.

Keith sutures Impatient Biker Dude closed and is smoothing the bandage over the area when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey, you’ve got a really nice touch, and you are a rockin’ babe. Why don’t you let me take you out sometime?”

“Excuse me?” Keith raises an eyebrow but otherwise tries not to let his annoyance show and turns to grab his patient’s chart. “I don’t date my patients. If you insist on leaving, you’ll be doing so against the doctor’s orders, so you’ll have to sign this form saying that you understand the consequences.”

“Darling, I will do what ever you want,” he purrs, taking the form. “I have to get back to the race.”

“Look,” Keith tries again. “One CT scan. You’ll be in and out in thirty minutes.”

“No can do, babe,” his patient says again, handing the form back. “I’ve got a race to finish.” He swings his legs over the side of the hospital bed and gets up. “There’s a party at the end, you know,” he says. “Maybe I’ll see you there?”

Keith rolls his eyes and turns away, only to feel a hand grab him by the waist and spin him around. He feels his patient’s lips meet his and pull him into a deep lip lock, and he freezes, indignation bubbling up behind his rib cage. “What the fuck?” he demands once his patient lets him go.

“One for luck,” he says with a jaunty wave and a wink. “You’ll be seeing me again soon.”

“For your sake, I hope you don’t!”

He whirls around, and accidentally makes eye contact with Shirogane, whose eyes look filled with hurt. Shiro gets up from his station near his comatose patient and intercepts Keith before he can get to Mr. Brain Dead in bed 5. With dismay, he watches as Lance and Altea start the next round of tests on him.

“What was that?” Shiro demands. “Are you kissing patients now?”

“For the record, he kissed me, and I definitely did not want to kiss that guy.” Keith tries to move onto bed 6, but Shiro blocks his way. “Oh come on! Dr. Shirogane, are you jealous? This is highly unprofessional.”

“I am not jealous!” The faint flush across the bridge of his nose bringing out his scar says otherwise. “Go out with me,” he says instead.

“No! You’re my boss! It’s against the rules.” Keith signs off on the chart. “We had sex once and we made out in an elevator once. That’s not going to happen again.” Keith tries again to move to bed 6, wanting the conversation to end.

Lance and Altea are debating over what they should do with Brain Dead.

“I think we should harvest his organs,” Altea says.

“What?” Lance exclaims. “He has a family!”

“Great!” Altea says cheerily. “Find them, and get their consent.”

“What? No! Come on, he’s got six hours.”

“Okay, fine,” Altea says decisively. “We’ll let the family make the decision.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “You just want a harvest surgery.”

“Don’t you?” Altea asks.

“I--” Lance throws his hands up, conflicted.

“Dr. Shirogane!” Altea motions for Shiro to come take a look.

“Just a minute!” he says normally, before lowering his voice again. “‘It’s against the rules?’ You don’t take me as a by-the-books kind of guy,” he says to Keith.

“Look, you’re an attending. I’m your intern. Unlike you, I still have something to prove. Now, I really need to get to Ms. Ho before she bleeds out.” Keith puts a hand on Shiro’s upper arm and pushes him towards Bed 5. “Go deal with Mr. Brain Dead.”

Pidge finishes with her lab deliveries just in time to watch as a car screeches into the front of the hospital, and a man stumble out of the driver’s side covered in blood from the waist down. She catches a nurse by the arm. “Get a stretcher--he’s hurt!” she orders, and motions two other nurses to come help her get him inside and onto the waiting stretcher. They get him hooked up to a heart rate monitor and a breathing tube before cutting him out of his clothes. “Oh my God!” she yelps, looking at the bloody mess of his groin. “Somebody call security!”

She ends up getting to observe the surgery that Iverson performs on the bloody John Doe.

“Medicine’s a funny business,” he comments as he cauterizes a blood vessel. “One minute you get to save the life of someone who fought off an attack, and the next, you’re trying to save the life of the attacker. Intern, why aren’t we trying to reattached this penis?” he barks at Pidge.

“Teeth tear, but reattachments need clean cuts. If she’d taken a knife to his penis, he might still be able to save it, but since she bit it off, plus the digestive enzymes in the mouth, there’s no way he’s ever going to get to pee like a normal person again,” she says, trying to keep the smugness out of her voice.

“Hmm, a moment of silence for this poor guy,” Iverson says, rolling his eyes unsympathetically, cauterizing the final blood vessel. Pidge can’t help but agree. Good riddance.

As Vrepit Sal’s Dead Baby Bike Race ends, so does the endless stream of injured bikers, and the interns finally get a chance to trudge wearily back to the locker rooms to freshen up and change into a fresh set of scrubs.

“I need a bed,” Pidge moans, lying on a bench in the locker rooms wearing just her sports bra. “Or a drink and a massage. Or a drunken massage on a bed.” She sits up with groan and starts wrestling her scrub top back over her head.

“I lost five patients today on the code team,” Lance moans at his reflection.

“Lance, ninety-five percent of code patients can’t be revived. They’re seriously dead before you even get there.”

“What?” Lance exclaims. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because,” Pidge says loftily. “I’m Pidge, and you’re Lance.”

Hunk trudges in, looking somewhat disgruntled. “Mr. Mackie won’t stop hitting on me, and I don’t know how to tell him I’m not interested. He’s Coran’s VIP, for crying out loud.” He sits down heavily next to Pidge. “At least we found a match for him.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Lance asks, splashing water onto his face.

“Oh, just some brain dead guy from earlier. When I told him, he cried and then tried to ask me out again.”

“Nice!” Lance gives Hunk a fist bump. “That was Allura and my’s first patient together!”

“Allura? Since when did she start letting you call her Allura?”

“Oh, she hasn’t. I just call her that in my head.”

“A patient kissed me today,” Keith announces, moodily playing with the handle of the cooler. “I wish I’d shown him the severed penis just to freak him out, but I didn’t think about that until it was too late. Plus, I don’t think it would have stopped him.”

Hunk makes a noise of sympathy. Lance, ever the incorrigible romantic, asks, “And what did Shiro think of that?”

“He asked me out again.”

Pidge groans. “Men,” she says. “They think they can just get away with anything.”

Lance, Hunk, and Keith all make indignant noises.

“I got to watch Iverson cauterize the penis of a rapist today,” she continues as if they hadn’t said anything. “Simultaneously the best and the worst thing I’ve seen today, and I had to endure twenty-seven patients’ family members hug me with joy.”

“Aw come on!” Lance interjects. “I should’ve gotten that job! I love hugs!”

“Does that mean I’m finally going to get to not babysit a penis anymore?” Keith asks, perking up at the thought.

“Keith, it’s 2AM. They’re not sending someone over at 2AM.”

Keith drops his head into his hands and groans. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“I mean, since you asked so nicely,” Lance starts. Pidge sticks her foot out and trips him.

“Thanks, Pidge.”

“Any time, bud.”

When Keith passes by the unconscious patient again in the morning, Shiro is still there and he looks like he hasn’t slept. He has, however, moved to the HUB, where he can simultaneously keep an eye on the patient and work on charting on the computer. Keith sets the penis cooler down on the counter. “Have you been here all night?”

“Yeah.” Shiro barely spares him a glance, and he rubs at the scar across the bridge of his nose. “You know, I grew in a family of all boys. All brothers. I can’t imagine what it’s like to not have anyone waiting for me when I wake up.”

“I can,” Keith says. Shiro looks up at him then, and stands to go make himself a cup of coffee, eyes soft.

“So,” he says, coming back with two paper cups of the hospital’s cheap free brew. “We’re kissing, but we’re not dating?”

Keith made a sound of annoyance. “I knew this would come up,” he says, accepting one of the cups.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. More kissing, any day, I say,” Shiro says.

Keith rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. “You sound like Coran,” he teases.

“I just want to know if this is going to happen again in the future. If it is, I’m gonna need to carry around breath mints. Maybe a,” Shiro lowers his voice, “condom in my wallet?”

“Shut up,” Keith whispers back, finishing off his coffee. Together, they stare at the patient in silence. All the monitors start beeping at once, and Keith and Shiro immediately move into action, calling for nurses and equipment.

“Prepare for an emergency craniotomy!” Shiro yells at a nearby nurse, who nods. Together, they mobilize the hospital bed into the OR, and Keith waits anxiously outside until Shiro’s done, looking more worn than ever.

“We had to leave the top of her skull flap off,” he tells Keith. “Until the swelling in her brain goes down.”

Keith sighs. “She’s not going to make it is she?” he asks.

“She’ll be fine,” Shiro replies, with a soft smile. “Come on. You have rounds. Don’t forget your penis.”

Keith sighs, shooting the cooler a look of distaste. “I just want the damn police to show up already,” he says in annoyance, heading back toward the HUB to catch up on some charting.

As soon as he reaches the HUB, however, a nurse motions him over. “The police have arrived to take custody of the evidence,” she tells him pointing over to where two uniformed men stand.

“Oh sweet! Thanks, Nyma,” he says, making his way over to the cops standing near the water cooler. “Hello sirs, I’m Dr. Kogane. I hear you’re here to collect my penis?”

The two cops look distinctly uncomfortable for a split second, before one of them notices the cooler in Keith’s hand. “Oh! Yeah, you just need to sign a couple of forms, and we’ll be out of your hair,” he says.

Keith gladly takes the paperwork and fills it out, handing both the forms and the cooler over to the cops. He runs into Pidge and Hunk halfway through rounds and they both give him high fives when they realize he’s no longer holding onto the penis cooler any more.

“Hey, so about those rooms,” Pidge says. “I’m in.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hunk adds. “I think I’m ready to give up my uncle’s couch.”

“Oh okay, cool,” Keith says. “I just need to get a few copies of my key made for you guys, and then you can move in whenever.”

Pidge and Hunk cheer loudly and get shushed by Mrs. Cobb in bed 9.

#sheith #voltron's anatomy #voltron #vld #grey's anatomy au #grey's anatomy #slow burn #fanfiction #allurance #multiship #everyone's going to sleep with everybody #let's be real #it's grey's anatomy

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besidemethewholedamntime · 6 years ago

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it was always me and you ch. 5

ahh chapter five is finally here and *whispers* I think it might be my favourite shhh* so I’m very excited about it! Also, I just saw Mamma Mia 2 and it was honestly amazing so I’m extremely happy right now! Thank you so much for all of the kind kudos and comments and love. You guys are amazing!

-x-

Summary:

"There had always been something about Fitz’s fiancée that she had never really admired, something off about the way she smiled with too much teeth and how she rarely blinked."

When Fitz’s fiancée runs off in the middle of the night leaving Fitz and their 4 year old daughter behind, Jemma is there immediately because she’s his best-friend and she’s been there through it all.

But as Fitz navigates single parenthood with Jemma every step on the way, maybe it’s something different than being a best-friend. Maybe it’s something more.

{Read chapter 5 on Ao3}

{Read Entire Work}

Or Read Chapter Five Below

It momentarily puzzles Jemma that, when she goes to answer her phone, Fitz’s picture flashes up. It doesn’t stun her, but it definitely makes her tilt her head in a brief confusion when she sees that Fitz is trying to get in touch with her, and only now does it hit her how seldom they have needed to speak on the phone nowadays.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jemma.” His voice is so familiar now, she knows it better than she knows her own. He sounds nervous but not terribly panicked and so she relaxes and loosens muscles she didn’t even realise she had clenched. “I have a favour.”

“Intriguing,” she laughs. “Alright, what is it?”

“Well, see Orla’s school has this kind of mum’s and dad’s dance thing next week and she wanted me to ask you if you’d uh, if you’d like to go. With me, that is.”

“But I’m not her mum,” Jemma blurts reflexively, a reaction to the sudden hammering of her heart.

“Yeah, I know that,” Fitz answers with a laugh but there’s a bit of a bruise in his voice. “It was Orla’s idea she just… it’s okay, Jemma.”

Feeling as though she must explain for her knee-jerk reaction, Jemma says, “I just don’t want her to think I’m replacing Annie or trying to take over from her.”

Orla’s a smart child, but as smart as she may be she is still only four years old and Jemma, not sure on the effects of absconding mothers on the psychology of a four year old, doesn’t want to do anything that could cause the child she loves so much any more pain.

“I thinks she just wanted you to be there when she dresses up in a pretty dress and so she can show you off to all her friends. You’re ‘scientist Auntie Jemma’ don’t you know?” Fitz chuckles but then seemingly sobers. “It’s fine, though, if you don’t want to. I get it. I’ll tell her that-”

“Fitz,” she interrupts, “don’t. I’ll come. With you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it sounds fun. And it rather seems like I have a sort of reputation to live up to.”

“Great!” And she wonders how she could have made him to happy simply by agreeing to go to what is essentially a primary school disco. “I’ll tell you more about it later. Orla just wanted me to phone and ask now. You’re still coming for dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Yes, sounds perfect. I’ll see you later.”

As they hang up, Jemma realises that there appears to be butterflies hovering around in her stomach and she can’t quite fathom why. After all, it’s just a disco with Fitz and Orla – her two favourite beings. It’s nothing new, nothing scary, nothing worth the nerves she feels now.

The only problem that she seems to come across is what exactly she’s going to wear.

-x-

“This is like the third outfit you’ve tried on,” Daisy remarks, leaning against the changing room wall. “I have papers to grade for tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you should have started your marking earlier then,” Jemma retorts, as she squeezes her way into dress number three. Looking at herself in the mirror, she’s met with almost immediate disappointment. This dress shows far too much cleavage than could ever be appropriate for a school dance. She sighs and begins the laborious process of un-squeezing herself from the fabric prison.

“Yeah, yeah. I think that’s your answer for everything; just start it earlier.” Daisy peeks her head around the curtain, causing Jemma to help for she’s currently only in her underwear. “Maybe you should have started dress shopping earlier.”

With the dance being in two days’ time, there is more pressure on Jemma than she would care to admit is comfortable. It’s not as though she’s been putting it off, exactly, but she’s had trouble finding a spare minute and then trying to decide on what exactly one should wear to an event such as this. Plus Daisy had to be free.

She starts to explain this but Daisy holds up one finger to cut her off. “Just admit it,” she says in a sing-song voice. “You’re nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” Jemma hisses, grabbing dress number four off the coat-hanger. “What do you even wear to something like this?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t done any research whatsoever into this?” Daisy raises one eyebrow in disbelief.

“I did try but…” a pause as she tries to slip number four over her head, before discovering that it’s actually the arm hole she’s attempting to strangulate herself with, “Fitz isn’t Facebook friends with anyone whose children have been in the years previously and there’s no other records of this dance I’ve been able to find.”

That’s not entirely true, but the one newspaper article on the dance was written in the 1970s and the pictures accompanying the article didn’t show outfits that would be suitable for one today.

“Look, it’s just a kid’s dance, right?” Daisy asks, clearly taking pity as she watches her friend shimmy out of dress number four with wouldn’t even be flattering on a string bean. “So you just need to wear something you’d wear to your brother’s graduation or something. Nice dress, nothing too smart, nothing too casual.”

“The specificities are outstanding,” Jemma says drily, looking with a critical eye at outfit number five. It’s a hot pink, too low in some places and too high in others and has a rather large bow on the back. Clearly she picked this up in the desperate hope that it would look better once she tried it on but now she isn’t even going to attempt it.

“I dunno why you’re getting so stressed over it. Fitz and Orla are just gonna be so excited you’re going. You could turn up in a garbage bag and they wouldn’t care.”

Jemma knows that, really, it doesn’t matter, but it’s a big event to them and it would be nice to look nice.

“If your hesitation is about Jack…” Daisy begins, arching her eyebrow once more but in a way that’s softer, and let’s Jemma know that she’s here to talk, whenever she’s ready. But there’s nothing to talk about.

“Of course it’s not,” she dismisses entirely, not letting thoughts of her ex-boyfriend cloud her looking forward to this event. “Let’s just go out and find some more outfits to try on.”

It takes another forty-five minutes of trying on several different styles and combinations and colours but eventually Jemma finds a dress that is pretty enough and appropriate enough.

As Jemma slides it off and back onto the hanger to take to the till to pay, Daisy from her spot on the floor says wearily, “You know what they say: seventeenth dress lucky.”

-x-

It feels a bit like she is going on a first date, as she stands at her front door, smoothing down non-existent creases on her dress as she waits for Fitz’s knock. He’s meant to pick her up at quarter past six and it’s only just gone five past, but nerves have her hovering anxiously.

Jemma checks her phone, checks her reflection, adds a touch more lipstick even though none has worn off in the five minutes since she last applied it. She dabs some perfume on the inside of her wrists and behind her eyes, the way her own mother taught her when she was four years old. She looks in the mirror again, biting her lip, hoping she looks alright.

Fitz knocks on the door at fourteen minutes past, and there’s a moment, when she opens it, that neither of them speak.

“Wow,” Fitz says softly, the first to break the silence.

“What is it?” Jemma worries that her dress isn’t sitting right, that it’s too fancy, not fancy enough. Her nerves go into overdrive. “Is something wrong?.”

“Uh, no.” Fitz clears his throat, smiling at her shyly. “Not at all. You look really nice.”

“Oh.” She smiles back, indescribably relieved. “Thank you. You clean up rather lovely yourself.”

Indeed, he does. It’s been a while since she’s seen Fitz in a suit, and she’d forgotten the effect it could have on her. The last time had been at their graduations, years ago, and, peering at it, Jemma realises that it’s the same one. Right down to the tie.

“Is that the same tie you’ve always had?” She teases, watching as he flushes red.

“Yeah,” he grins sheepishly. “Good job, though. It matches your dress.”

The royal blue tie does indeed match the flowers printed on her dress and looking down to affirm what she’s just realises covers the blush she feels on her face.

“You ready to escort me to the dance, Jemma Simmons?” Fitz asks, holding out an arm which she accepts with a laugh. How utterly right this feels.

“Lead the way, Leopold Fitz.”

-x-

The primary school have really outdone themselves for the mum’s and dad’s dance. They’ve transformed what Jemma assumes it usually a dinner hall into something out of a fairy-tale. Twinkly lights have been hung from the ceiling, the tables are covered in a soft confetti shaped like snowflakes. Jemma looks around, mouth hanging open slightly. Whatever she expected, it certainly wasn’t this.

Everybody has been given certain tables to sit at, each place setting clearly written by the child related to said adult. The folded-over piece of cardboard bears the full name of the designated person, along with a clip art sticker of some sort. Jemma reads hers to say ‘Auntie Jemma’ along with a microscope sticker. As she sits down she makes sure to slip it into her bag discreetly, knowing she could never leave it behind.

The children are off being children as the adults are left to socialise. At first it’s a little bit awkward; many of the adults at this table have never met either Fitz or Annie before and so they assume that she is Orla’s mother. Fitz takes the lead of explaining the situation; no, Annie’s not here anymore. No, Jemma’s not Orla’s stepmother. No, she’s not biologically related.

“She’s my best friend,” Fitz says, turning to grin at her. Her belly tingles pleasantly. “The best of best-friends really.”

“It’s so wonderful you came along,” one of the other mothers comments. “So selfless really.”

“Definitely,” a father chimes in. “Really selfless.”

Jemma feels herself blushing fiercely, knowing she doesn’t deserve these compliments. It’s not selfless, not really. It’s just natural, just normal to be with Fitz and Orla. It makes her happy to be with them.

Orla comes running up her, tugging her friend behind her. Her curls are flying out of their already precariously arranged updo (she did teach Fitz how to do it – but she knew he’d end up forgetting the hairpin arrangement).

“Auntie Jemma!” She careens into Jemma’s chair, her poor friend looking very much bewildered.

“There you are. Are you having fun?”

Jemma watches her face light up and nod fervently. “Oh, yes! We’re having so much fun!” She turns to her poor bewildered friend. “Aren’t we Mina?”

Mina looks up at Jemma with some kind of wonder on her face and nods slowly, mouth hanging open. In a not-so-subtle whisper she asks Orla, “Is this her?”

Orla shoots her a play it cool look. Turns back to Jemma with a sheepish grin that is so much like her father’s. “This is my Auntie Jemma” she says proudly, puffing out her chest. “And she’s a scientist!”

“Wow,” Mina breathes. “That is so cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” Orla frowns, seemingly unhappy with how enraptured her friend is. “But she’s my Auntie Jemma, Not yours.” She turns back to Jemma. “I think we’re going to go dance now, okay? Bye!” And she drags Mina away (who looks more than a little crestfallen at being reminded that Jemma wasn’t her auntie) , her purple party dress swishing around her ankles as she runs.

“Orla seems in very high spirits,” Jemma remarks to Fitz, who sits next to her trying to engage in polite if slightly mundane conversation with the other parents at the table. He turns to her with relief evident on his face.

“Yeah, she’s been so excited for this for ages now.” Jemma watches his eyes follow to where his daughter is playing kick about with a balloon and some friends. She hears him sigh. “It took me hours to figure out her hair as well.”

Orla’s hair is now loose and streaming across her face. “Oh dear,” Jemma giggles into her hand. “At least we got some pictures at the start of the night.”

There is a myriad of pictures now in Fitz’s phone, some that have already been sent to her so she can frame them. Her favourite is the one of Fitz and Orla, Orla on Fitz’s shoulders, both of them looking at the camera with the same ridiculous grin on their faces. She’s already asked Fitz for a copy, knows that it will live in the photo wallet of her purse forever.

Orla looks back to them both and waves excitedly. Jemma and Fitz both wave back at the same time which only makes Orla laugh loudly before she runs off to do something else.

“How does she still have so much energy?” Jemma asks Fitz.

“Honestly? No idea. Mum says she must get it from me?”

“Really?” Jemma asks him, shocked. “It took me ages to get you up some days when we were at university. There was that day you didn’t surface until five pm and I thought you’d run off.”

He turns to her with such an odd look on his face; a half smile, half contemplative look that gives her a pleasant ache in her chest.

“What?” She asks.

“Nah, nothing,” he dismisses, and although it’s clearly something, her head holds her back from asking about it.

They sit together in a companionable silence for a bit, letting the evening just wash over them. This is what she’s always enjoyed about her relationship with Fitz. It’s easy, effortless really. There’s no forcing of anything, no compulsion to force anything. They’re quite content with just being together. In fact, there’s nobody else she’s ever felt like this with. There’s nobody else she’d want to.

“Alright guys,” the DJ interrupts. “Here’s a slow one. Everyone up on the dance floor now. Parents included.”

Jemma, assuming that this doesn’t apply to her, leans back in her chair and laughs at the grumbles of parents begrudgingly making their way up out of their chairs. She’s absorbed in watching them all take their places, all of the children finding partners to dance with, also, that she doesn’t notice that Fitz is standing in front of her with an arm outstretched until he clears his throat.

“Dance with me?” His voice is a little bit nervous, but his smile is bright and genuine and her heart flutters in her chest in the most unexpected way.

She accepts his hand and lets him lead her to the last empty space in the dance floor. She’s never dances with Fitz before, or at least not that she remembers, but they fit together so naturally that she wonders if her memory is going. Her arms loop around his neck, both his hands burn her lower back and they sway together in time with the music in an uncanny synchronicity, the kind she’s only ever seemed to have with him.

The mood of the night making her brave, she steps closer to him, closing whatever little gap there had been. Fitz’s breath hitches, only minutely, but he says nothing and his hands on her waist become more sure.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into her hair, “for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course I was going to come, Fitz. What else was I going to do?”

This, right here, feels like exactly where she is meant to be.

“I know this all hasn’t been easy for you either and I’m – I’m so grateful, Jemma.”

There’s a sudden lump in her throat and she buries her face into the soft fabric of Fitz’s suit. It smells like home. He holds her tighter, says nothing else, and they sway together as if they were one. The twinkly lights and the soft guitar music make it all feel very dreamlike. If only there had been drinking permitted at this event, and then she could blame the alcohol for the reason it appears that there’s nobody else in the room, only them

She closes her eyes and lets herself pretend. Maybe, just maybe, if she doesn’t open them, then this moment will last forever.

-x-

The dance finishes at ten but it might as well be one in the morning for Orla almost falls asleep standing up and Fitz has to carry her to the car otherwise she’s in danger of falling over. Once they arrive back home, Jemma helps him get her out of the car and opens the front door for him, helping him get his daughter into her pyjamas and into bed.

Once they’re done, he turns to her, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling and asks, “Stay?”

She clears her throat, perfectly aware of the tension in the air that surrounds them. “Yes,” she agrees, voice barely above a whisper.

They end up watching movies together on the sofa and, the excitement of the night making them a bit more relaxed than they usually are, they end up cuddling on the sofa in a way that neither of them ever have before. Their arms are around each other, Jemma’s head rests on Fitz’s chest while his chin rests on her hair and they breathe at exactly the same time. Jemma can hear his heartbeat under her ear; it’s not fast, not like she thought it might be, but slow and steady and sure.

Like this, in absolute comfort and serenity, does she fall asleep, thinking of nothing except home.

Waking up, however, is a different story.

She awakens first, woken by the bright morning summer sun flooding through the curtains that they didn’t shut last night. Without the haziness of the night before, without the dream-like edges, she’s suddenly very aware of the position they’ve maintained throughout the night. It feels as though someone’s thrown a bucket of cold water over her, and she disentangles herself from Fitz immediately, feeling something akin to shame burn her skin and set it alight.

Fitz awakens with a moan, squinting at her in confusion before it settles on him. He doesn’t look as uncomfortable as she feels. It only makes her feel worse.

“I should be going,” she says hurriedly, looking at her watch. It’s only just gone five. There’s still plenty of time. It terrifies her.

He blinks at her resignedly, says nothing as she stands up and fumbles for her bag, her phone.

“I have to get to work early,” she offers as an explanation to his eyes.

Fitz nods, rubs at his stubble, his face with two hands. “Yup. ‘Course you do.”

Jemma deflates. “I do, Fitz.” Why can’t he be fair to her now? Why can’t he see?

“Yeah, no, I believe you.” He makes no move to get up and stays watching her from his spot on the sofa.

“There’s new equipment arriving at the lab today and-”

“I know,” he tells her, smiling softly if a little wearily. “It’s fine, really. Do you need me to drive you or-?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

His smile is weak. “Alright then. Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, before grabbing her things and all but fleeing.

There is new lab equipment coming today, she wasn’t lying. She just hadn’t told him yet, didn’t figure she’d ever need the excuse. She’s left Fitz’s house plenty of times in the early morning but never like this. Never because every cell in her body wanted her to stay so badly that it ached.

-x-

It’s midnight when she finally drags herself home from work. It’s been a trying day, and she’s purposely stayed so long in the hopes to avoid her empty flat for as long as she was able. It’s not the same as it once was. Nothing is.

She puts the kettle on to boil and half heartedly puts on her pyjamas, washing her face with a lack of enthusiasm that she doesn’t even have the energy to be surprised at. A cup of peppermint tea in hand, tea a cure for all ills, she softly makes her way to bed, hoping that maybe tomorrow will be brighter.

Jemma’s just settled under the duvet, just taken her first sip, when her phone buzzes with a call. Her heart stops when Fitz’s picture flashes up but still she doesn’t hesitate to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Fitz’s unsure voice breathes into her ear. “I’m sorry this is so late but I – I wanted to say sorry, for earlier. I was out of line, being like that. Guess I was a bit spooked as well and I took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

Jemma’s heart constricts in her chest, but she feels so much lighter. “I’m sorry, too,” she confesses quietly. It feels good to say it. “For the same reasons as you. I was a little bit disoriented and I ran away without thinking things through properly. I’m sorry.”

There’s a soft chuckle in her ear. “Felt really rotten all day. It was so strange – going so many hours with us being not okay.”

“I know,” she hums, recalling how today she had most certainly felt off-kilter. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

“No, it wasn’t. I think after last night we were just caught up in the mood and, well, I don’t know, I suppose what was alright last night looked kind of wrong in the morning.”

“Yes,” she says carefully, feeling a tell tale burning of frustration behind her eyes. “I suppose.”

“I’ll let you go,” Fitz tells her. She hears him yawn. “I just wanted to say sorry before I went to bed.”

“I should have phoned earlier to apologise as well.” Because she should have. She left it all day, stewing, afraid of what would happen. But this is Fitz. There is no need to be afraid of him.

“Goodnight, Jemma,” he says sleepily, and she responds in kind before hanging up.

Placing her phone on the bedside table a little harder then absolutely necessary, tea forgotten, Jemma throws herself back onto the pillows, longing to tell Fitz that the reason she ran away wasn’t because anything felt wrong, but because it felt absolutely right.

#fanfic by moi #fitzsimmons #aos #fitzsimmons fanfic #gosh this is so long i'm so sorry #but in case you can only read on tumblr #i know you're not meant to have favourite chapters because it's like having favourite children #but i do have a soft spot for this one #and also the dance scene is maybe a little bit inspired by booth and brennan from bones #perhaps just a smidge #enjoy!!

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shreyamistry · 7 years ago

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Request For HSS Characters Reacting To A Promise Ring: Julian, Payton, Autumn, and NIshan Part 1 here, Nishan cont., Sakura, Wes, Mia Part 2

❤️ Julian ❤️

Julian smiles at MC from across the classroom, who waves in response. Julian was still a little upset that the teacher moved them for being disruptive, but it was their own fault. The teacher walks in to start her lecture, excitedly going on about physics. The final bell rings as the teacher reminds them to finish their homework before dismissing them.

MC casually walks over to Julian’s desk after class, “Funny seeing you here.” MC and Julian share a soft laugh, he ruffles MC’s hair with a smirk. “jerk.”

Julian slings his backpack over his shoulder lacing his fingers with MC’s walking towards Julian’s car.

It’s quite for a few moments, enjoying the comforting of holding one another’s hand. “I can’t wait for tonight. Sports, stadium food, and you. It’ll be perfect.” Julian exclaims excitedly, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m just as excited to be with you, handsome.” MC replies, throwing Julian’s arm over their shoulder moving closer to Julian.

“You’re such a flirt.” Julian laughs kissing MC’s temple.

After an hour long car ride they pull up to the stadium parking lot. Julian parks in a space closest to the stadium, which means at the very end.

“Hope you don’t mind walking.” Julian laughs.

“I don’t if you don’t.” MC smiles, climbing out of the car. “Maybe your team will win.”

“If they don’t I’ll be mad.” Julian laughs, linking his arm with MC’s. “But it doesn’t matter, at least I’m with you.”

“And I’m the flirt.” MC raises his eyebrow at Julian.

“Shut up.” Julian mumbles, smiling. He leads MC to the ticket booth, explaining the stats for his favorite team. MC listens intently, even if they didn’t care too much, but they knew how much it’d mean to Julian. They get to their seats easily, as soon as they both sit down, Julian puts his arms around MC’s shoulder as the game begins.

“You ready to see some sport domination?” Julian questions.

“Yeah, there’s no way we’re not gonna win. Especially with those stats.” MC replies, leaning into him, crossing their legs. Players begin to storm the field as Julian talks about who each player is.

The game goes on until the seventh inning stretch, as the mascot race begins. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

“Nah, I’m good. Why do you?” Julian asks, looking into MC’s eyes enjoying the way they look into him. He stands up stretching his leg, MC following suit, cracking their neck.

“No, but I wanted to have another conversation with you. More like give you something.” MC explains. “You know how you gave me your class ring as a symbol of our love?”

“Are you giving it back?” Julian instantly asks, his brows furrowing.

“God no,” MC reaches into their shirt pulling out the ring connected to a necklace, Julian drags a finger over the ring smiling at MC. His hands moving to rest of their hips. “It’s....I wanted to give you a ring from me. This ring means so much to us, and wearing it everyday makes me so happy, so I wanted to give you one. You know, your own promise ring.” MC reveals a red and white ring from a small black box.

Julian takes it from their outstretched hand rolling it over his fingers genuinely shocked, his mouth slightly a gap. He pushes the ring onto his finger, and smiles at MC. “Yes, I promise to be yours, MC.”

He pulls MC into arms pressing his lips against MC’s kissing them roughly, MC’s hands running through his hair. Julian’s resting on their lower back. They both pull away taking a moment to catch their breath, their foreheads touching. MC looks towards the field to see the both them and Julian on the kiss cam screen.

“Guess we put on a show.” MC laughs, blushing profusely, as the crowd cheers for them, Julian’s caresses their cheek.

“Better end it with a bang.” Julian smirk, grabbing MC by the waist lifting them up, their lips colliding, as they wrap their legs around his waist.

“I love you.” Julian whispers, his hot breath against MC’s lips, who grins at Julian. “I love you more Julian.”

💜 Payton 💜

MC lounges around on a couch in Payton’s house, sinking into the plush blue fabric. Music pulses within the room, their ears thudding trying to adjust to the noise. This is a little much... MC thinks to themselves, looking around for Payton from the couch.

“Eeek! You made it!” Payton smiles walking up to MC. She stops a few feet away spinning in a circle her skirt twirling with her. “What do you think? Cute?” She yells over the music, brushing her mustard skirt down, then pulling on her olive green crop to straighten it out.

“Simply stunning Payton.” MC smiles, standing from the couch grabbing one of her hands. They twirl Payton again making her giggle. They rest their hands on her hips, using their fingers to trace over her exposed skin. “Let’s go talk somewhere quieter.” MC whispers in her ear.

“What about?” She whispers back, playfully tugging on MC’s ear with her fingers, chewing on the inside of her.

“For starters, oh good you look in this outfit.” Payton giggles again, leading MC to her patio, the quiet of the night filling the air as she closes the door behind her. “This quiet enough for you?” She questions innocently, batting her eye lashes at MC.

“Yeah, you know what, I think I can truly appreciate how immaculate you look.” MC smiles, standing extremely close to Payton, twisting a loose strand of Payton’s curled hair around their finger as Payton chews on her lower lip. MC’s free hand moving to Payton’s jaw running the back of their hand against it.

“You look beautiful tonight. So fucking beautiful.” MC smiles.

Payton smiles shyly, pushing MC’s shoulder. “Stop.”

“It’s true. Happy birthday, Payton.” MC flicks a finger under her chin, tilting her head up meeting her lips. Payton pulls away slightly breathless.

“Wow. That was amazeballs.” Payton giggles. She drags her fingertips down MC’s arms, before letting them fall into MC’s hands. “I’m really happy we’re together for tonight.”

“I got you something special.” MC declares, with a smile. They bring Payton’s hand to their lips kissing her hand softly, before letting them go. They dig into their pocket, their free hand tucking the loose strand of hair behind Payton’s ear, and caressing her cheek before pulling away. Dropping to their knee, Payton looks around shocked, her jaw falling open.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” She all but screams, smiling sheepishly as MC takes her hand in their own. MC presents the promise ring to her, it’s simple and a deep violet color.

She gasps, as MC pushes it up her finger. MC stops for a moment, smiling looking at the ring on her finger, how did I get so lucky.

“Payton, these last two years of dating you has been amazing. You’re the only girl I could see myself with forever. With this ring, I promise myself to be yours and yours only, I hope you can promise the same back.”

Her eyes gaze into MC’s before looking at the ring again, she wipes at her eyes with her friend hands, eyelashes wet with forming tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You could say something quirky like awesomeness.” MC smiles, she chuckles softly, sniffling.

“Awesomeness. I promise MC, you make me the happiest girl alive. I love you and only you.” She pulls MC off their knee, as they pick up Payton twirling her around in their arms. She giggles as they set her down.

“I love you too, Payton.” MC grins, pulling her back in for a passionate kiss.

💛 Autumn 💛

“I love this painting MC, the realism and color palette is simply stunning. Her use of the blue tones and opposing colors are simply gorgeous. Wouldn’t you agree?” Autumn marvels at a painting in her favorite museum.

“It’s definitely stunning, Autumn.” MC replies, running their thumb back and forth against her hand.

“This must have taken years, the intricate beauty the different types of pastels and oils. If only I was that good.” She goes quiet after the words leave her lips.

“Hey.” MC whispers soothingly pulling Autumn to a bench nearby sitting in front of her. “You’re good enough to get into this museum. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten here yet.”

“They only put good paintings in museums MC, my art can’t compare to hers. She has a gift for art.” Autumn says, as MC notices an envelope peaking through in her jacket pocket.

“What’s this?” MC asks, fishing it out before Autumn can stop them. She tries to protest climbing onto MC’s lap as they hold the envelope over their head. “Your art school?” MC finally says, as Autumn snatches the letter back, looking at the floor. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear with a deep sigh. She climbs off MC’s lap sitting rejectly on the bench next to them, her legs hanging over MC’s lap. MC begins massaging her calfs softly, as Autumn summons the courage to speak.

“I got the letter yesterday.” Autumn finally confessed after some silence. “I wanted the artist to know before me, maybe so she could know that she’ll be able to live without my art plaguing these halls.”

“You were going to read to the art?” MC asks, in a soft teasing voice, their hands moving to her thighs, tracing shapes into the fabric of her jeans. Autumn rolls her eyes.

“You know what I mean.” Her voice comes out stern, but MC can hear the laughter hidden in the pitch.

“I know but I love seeing you pretend to be annoyed with me.” MC laughs as Autumn cracks a smile at them. She playfully punches their shoulder, smoothing out the letter on her lap.

“Whatever, jerk.” She hands MC the letter. “Open it.”

“Are you sure you want me to?” MC asks, starting to open the envelope, sliding a finger under the sticky tab.

“If you don’t I won’t for at least 3 months.” Autumn laughs unhumorously. “It’s like my whole life is in your hands.”

“This is your dream Autumn, you have to read it yourself,” MC pushes the letter towards her, “you might regret me opening it for you.”

“If it’s a rejection it’ll sound nicer coming from you.” Autumn admits casually, but MC can see the pain in her eyes, as she looks away towards the painting.

MC unfolds the letter, taking a deep breath, admiring the fancy print and flowery borders. They begin to read the letter aloud to Autumn, holding her hand tightly. “Ms. Brooks, we are delighted to inform you that you’ve been selected to be one of 2,000 students attending our school this semester!”

Autumn’s mouth drops open as she jumps up from the bench, throwing her hands into the air and starts yelling. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGOD. I DID IT. I REALLY DID IT.”

MC scoops Autumn into their arms twirling her around while she laughs. “YOU GOT INTO ART SCHOOL.”

“I GOT INTO ART SCHOOL.” She screams grabbing MC’s hands, as they set her back down onto her feet.

“Congratulations, now please quiet down before I have to ask you to leave.” A security guard yells from the corridor.

“sorry.” MC calls after him, turning back to Autumn grinning. “You did it.”

“I did it. Thanks to you.” She pulls MC into a quick kiss. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” She kisses MC again pulling away hearing a thud. She crotches down snatching the ring box off the floor looking to meet MC’s eyes. MC tries to snatch it from her as she holds it above her head this time. “What’s this?”

MC reaches for it, bumping their body against Autumn’s making her blush. MC sucks in a deep breath, looking at anything, but Autumn. “A promise ring.” MC replies, softly. “I didn’t want to take away from your night so I wasn’t going to ask until later, but it fell out of my jacket.”

“I promise.” Autumn smiles. “I promise to be yours, you’re the only significant other I need.”

“You won’t replace me for an attractive artist?” MC asks playfully.

“I wouldn’t ever dream of it.” She pulls MC into another kiss, before sliding the ring onto her finger, looking at the engraving spelling out artist. “I love you so much, MC.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

💚 Nishan 💚

MC is sitting through another cartoon binging with Nishan. Their head on his chest listening to his heartbeat over watching the boring show. Although they’d been trying their hardest to never admit that they didn’t like this show, it was starting to become too much for their sanity.

“I was thinking Nish-“ Nishan shushes MC before they can finish their thought.

“We’re at the climax, aren’t you even paying attention?” Nishan asks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

MC sits up turning towards Nishan. “I’m bored. This show isn’t as good as the others.”

“You don’t like it?” Nishan asks, pausing the show turning to face MC. “But there’s action and romance and-“

“No plot. It’s so bland. The characters are hard to relate to and aren’t even interesting. They’re so badly 2D.” MC complains.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“No I should have read the signs more, I almost put you to sleep. I’m such a bad boyfriend. I should have thought more and done better.”

“It’s not like that Nish. I’m happy just spending time with you, but you’re spending more time with the tv than me tonight. And I usually don’t mind, but this show is so bad.”

“I must confess, I’m not that much of a fan either.” He laughs. “I thought you liked it and didn’t want to change it.”

“Oh god no. That robot magically gaining superpowers mid fight? The dinosaurs? The damned reaper bringing dead people back to life isn’t my cup of tea.” MC laughs with Nishan.

“Very unrealistic and unintelligent.” Nishan nods.

“Oh well. Come the night is still young and I have a surprise for you.” MC smirks, Nishan tilts his head to the side looking at MC confused. “Surprise?”

“Yes, you’re about to be leaving soon and I wanted to give you a goodbye gift.”

“I’m not leaving forever MC. I’ll be home weekends.” He says assuringly.

“That’s not the point. Come on to the roof with me.”

“What if we fall? We’ll be dead, flat as pancakes.” Nishan protests.

“I’ll hold you so you don’t fall. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, besides the apartment roof is flat. And realistically you won’t turn into a pancake.” MC points out. Reluctantly Nishan follow MC out to the cool summer night, a slight breeze wafting through. They walk a blanket already laid out, a bottle of sparkling cider and some of Nishan’s favorite snacks lay spread out across the blanket.

“Wow...” was all he could manage, MC sits across from him on the blanket, picking at the lint while he marvels over everything. “You did all this for me. How can I ever thank you.”

#high school story #hss #choices hss #choices high school story #julian castillo #julian #hss julian #payton saunders #payton #hss payton #autumn brooks #autumn #hss autumn #nishan khandaar #nishan #hss nishan

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shorthaircutsmodels · 5 years ago

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Miranda Kerr's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts - 15+ - https://shorthaircutsmodels.com/miranda-kerrs-short-hairstyles-and-haircuts/ - Miranda Kerr's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, Already last month we've seen brand new cuts by Sarah Hyland Julianne Hough and Isla Fisher. And we anticipate that we will see more of these dramatic changes as we continue to warm up. We still confirm who has the Clippers behind this spectacular transformation but we will update as soon as we get all the details. Anyway we know you want to see the good stuff so cut it out. Miranda Kerr's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts Miranda Kerr's Short Hairstyles and Haircuts, We took a look at how the new style was shaped in two different ways and the gradual process it took in this short period of time. It's no secret that Miranda Kerr has an incredible head of hair. Healthy shiny fluffy after all hair that helps provide a lucrative campaign with racy hair and scalp treatment. 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As she spent almost all day on the beach giving her hair a breezy windy texture tweak and refine before going straight to a world class hairdresser. We still confirm who has the Clippers behind this spectacular transformation but we will update as soon as we get all the details. Top 23 Miranda Kerr Hairstyles Anyway we know you want to see the good stuff so stop it. We took a look at how the new style was shaped in two different ways and the gradual process it took in this short period of time. This is just Miranda Kerr debuted a new Chin. What is Miranda Kerr having? Long haircut today and very short just a month ago I think we would be used to seeing the model without thinking about it despite how much we shake shoulders went in the midlength waves. At the time he said he had been itching to go. How to Style Short Hair Like Miranda Kerr Shorter and shorter for more than a year so that's on par with the trend which gained a ton of momentum this spring. Already last month we've seen brand new cuts by Sarah Hyland Julianne Hough and Isla Fisher. And we anticipate that we will see more of these dramatic changes as we continue to warm up. Okay we'll start by rolling the list back to 2020-2021. Does Miranda Kerr still model? Do you remember that year. When Twilight hit theaters Kim Kardashian West made her debut and Miranda Kerr's face graced nearly every Victoria's Secret ad campaign. Looks like it was only yesterday. Here a baby-faced Miranda Kerr wore a 70s-inspired hairdo at the Victoria's Secret event. It's reminiscent of Farrah Fawcett's iconic hairstyle. Miranda Kerr Chopped Off Her Hair All women want to have an angelic face and a cool figure. Miranda takes them both making all the women and men obsessed with her. Along with her dimples supermodel Miranda Kerr's glossy hair is one of her instantly recognisable features. What does Kylie Jenner's natural hair look like? After an initial chop a few weeks ago there are fewer of them now. We saw the new do film in pictures at an event in Tokyo. Yes Kerr's hair is her signature shiny caramel brund. But now it's just hanging under his chin. But is it a bob or a lob. How does Kendall Jenner style her hair? The Glow team left so we went and called it a blob. The shortest hair we've ever seen the founder of kora Organics. I often dreamed about it but I couldn't because of the contracts I had but now I have permission from all the clients I work for so I said. Why is Miranda Kerr so popular? Let's do it. he told Harpers Bazaar at the time. Watch. Mia Freedman gets sliding doors-period Gwyneth Paltrow haircut. The message continues after the video. Somehow Miranda's take on the voluminous bouncy bob sets the trend much more than mumsy-we think it's down to this glorious deep side part and the height at the roots. Miranda Kerr regrets her haircut Check out our roundup of Miranda Kerr's amazing hair through the years. See how the famous Victoria's Secret model styled her glossy fluffy brunette locks which complemented her angelic face and sexy figure. Miranda Kerr is a famous model and she has worked for a number of high-profile brands. His styles are definitely something worth pursuing. Miranda Kerr hair 2020 - 2021 Over the years she has been seen with medium-length hair. Sometimes she had straight hair sometimes wavy and layers. A medium-length haircut fits well into his round face. Miranda Kerr updo She has often kept her hair on the side to show off her beautiful soft curls. The colors of her hair vary from brunette shades to Brown. How many times has he gone. How do I get Miranda Kerr hair? She tried out a messy look for a more casual look. Recently she has drastically changed her hairstyle. Her hair is shortened. Her new look proves that you can also look good and sexy in short haircuts. 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Office ladies will be super stylish with this simple but voguish curly hairstyle. he certainly knows how versatile short hair can be. Miranda Kerr short hair style First we collected Kendall Jenner's best hairstyles because let's be honest the girl has great hair. Now we move on to another supermodel this time Victoria's Secret Angel Miranda Kerr. The Australian model is one of our favourite people for her. What color is Kylie Jenner's hair? Hair makeup and skincare inspiration she quickly became a favourite especially after launching beauty brand Kora Organics. At least that's how we imagine it. So our friends that's why we've compiled the top 20 hairstyles of all time so we can be inspired to look beachy and polished throughout the summer season. Miranda Kerr light brown hair Last month the supermodel styled her trademark layers into a chin-skimming bob and has since been on a roll with one enviable hairdo after another. The gorgeous retro waves she wore to the Oscars after party stand out as one of our favourite looks so far. Miranda Kerr straight hair Alongside this classic red lip the slim volume around her tiara paired with loose touch curls gave her some serious vibes. Scroll down to see four more times Miranda Kerr's gorgeous bob was the definition of #HairGoals. Miranda Kerr ponytail Miranda Kerr has debuted a new chin length haircut today and. About her in midlength waves a month ago it just. Went too short on shoulders just how stuck it is. Miranda Kerr hairstyle At the time he said he had been itching to go shorter and shorter for more than a year so that's on par with the trend which gained a ton of momentum this spring. Miranda Kerr 32 cut a few inches from her long wavy hair into a long sleek bob look with hair. Miranda Kerr hair products We also provide easy on how to style by reporting tips on which hair can match face shape hair texture and hair density. and she revealed it was the shortest length she had tried since she was a little girl. She looked great in the red dress she was wearing. Miranda Kerr hair highlights For casual meetings or just walking down the road Kerr chooses a simple ponytail. Sometimes there are soft highlights in her hair. Her curls and waves are what makes her different from other models. She likes to keep her hair simple. Miranda Kerr hair care Color allows her to match her skin tone no matter what she chooses for her hair. Miranda Kerr has been in the glamour industry for years. She became famous after becoming an Australian model and Victoria's Secret Angel. Miranda Kerr long hair It is the first Australian model to work with such a famous brand. She entered the modelling industry after winning Dolly magazine's Model Search contest. Miranda Kerr black hair New hair shades and different make-up looks but she shocked us all by cutting her signature long waves in favour of just one lob. She documented the change on instagram and later pulled her hair out for her first red carpet appearances at. Miranda Kerr brown hair Two Grammy events. Celebrity hairstylist David Keough the talented man behind his new mane commented MK is gorgeous forever on his gram after chops and we have to agree. The shoulder grazing length which is shorter at the back is strikingly similar to Kylie Jenner's short cut. Miranda Kerr dark hair Miranda also went out with a shorter bob style in Tokyo and I think we love it more. We're big fans of the Aussie model and we love that she's experimenting with her look. Take a look at her new 'scroll from all angles. Short cropped and cute is this Miranda's best look to date.

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abadoodlesss · 7 years ago

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Sometimes the Job’s Worth It - Chapter 2

Looks like I did turn it into a series!

Read other chapters here

Next chapter

Summary: The next installment of Jane’s story. She rides away from her hometown with the Winchesters. While on the road, the boys take on a new case and get to know Jane.

Jane was sitting at the dinner table in her home with both her family and Mia’s joining her at the table. The group sat before a delicious meal, each person’s face plastered with a genuine smile as they chatted.

Jane reached for her fork to dig in but her arm wouldn’t move. Looking down in a panic she found both of her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair. She struggled for a few moments, trying to call out but her no sound would come out of her mouth. Mia stood, clinking her glass with her fork ready to give a toast.

“I just want to thank the Owens’s for helping me these past few days and offering me such hospitality and kindness in a time where I feel completely lost.” She started, earning a grateful smile from both Mr. and Mrs. Owens.

Mia stopped to close her eyes to collect herself, taking a breath. When her eyes opened again they were pitch black.

“I would also like to thank you two for bringing little Janie right to me.” Mia said with a wicked smirk, pulling out a blade and slashing the throat of her own father seated next to her.

Jane continued to struggle uselessly, as Mia’s mother jumped out of her chair to help her husband but Mia drove the blade into her shoulder.

Tears were running down Jane’s face as she thrashed in the chair, praying and hoping she’d be able to break free of her binds, to do anything but sit uselessly in the chair.

Jane’s chair fell back from all her flailing, crashing on the ground, the force knocking the wind out of her. Everything started fading away as she heard screams coming from her family.

Jane jolted awake from her nightmare, smacking her head against the side of the Impala in the process.

“And sleeping beauty awakens.” Dean called. “Morning, kiddo.”

“Sleep well?” Sam asked, turning to face a disheveled looking Jane. Her hair was tangled from all her tossing and turning during the night.

“As well as someone can for sleeping in the back of a car.” She said, stretching her arms with a groan.

Sam chuckled at her comment but knew she was hiding something. She had whined in her sleep and thrashed around in the backseat, almost falling onto the floor of the car several times. It was evident to Sam that she must have been having a nightmare but he didn’t push her for any information.

“How long was I out?” Jane asked as she raked her fingers through her hair.

“Five hours or so.” Sam replied.

Jane hummed in response, not sure what else to really say. Silence fell over the car, an uncomfortable, suffocating silence. It was starting to occur to Jane how weird the situation was; she was driving across the country with two strange men who she agreed to live with after they saved her from a demon that had possessed someone she loved, even though she only knew them for a total of about two hours.

“So, uh, where are we now?”

“Lewisburg, Pennsylvania.” Dean responded, the conversation again leaving the three in an awkward silence.

Suddenly Jane’s stomach let out a loud growl. She clutched her stomach, trying to quell the monstrous sound coming from her stomach.

“Hungry?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I could definitely stop for some breakfast.” Sam added.

“Well then, time for a pitstop.”

Sitting across from the Winchester brothers, Jane skimmed the menu. The three had yet to speak.

A young, blonde waitress came to the table, notepad in hand ready to take down their orders. Jotting down Sam and Jane’s orders, she turned to Dean.

“Now, what can I get for you?” She asked.

Dean looked the girl up and down, throwing a charming smile on his face. “I can think of a few things.” He said suggestively.

“Excuse me, sir? I don’t think that’s very appropriate.” The waitress said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“Right, uh, just pancakes with a side of bacon for me then.” Dean said, grabbing his coffee mug and taking a long swig before he could embarrass himself further.

As the waitress took her leave, Jane and Sam made eye contact and burst into hysterical laughter.

“Can it, you two.” Dean said in a gruff voice, but his menacing voice didn’t stop them.

“I can think of a few things?” Jane said mocking Dean’s low and flirtatious tone. “Really?”

“That’s nothing! One time Dean-”

“That’s enough, Sammy.” Dean said shooting a glare his brother’s way. “And I don’t need advice on how to pick up chicks from a child, so don’t go judging my ways.”

“Not a child and I think getting a female perspective would be beneficial for you.” Jane reasoned.

“I don’t need girl advice from a young lady? Is that better?”

“Yes.” Jane said with a smile. “But you better get used to hearing my input, I love to speak my mind.”

“Noted.” Dean said.

Smiles came and went from the group’s faces. Once more the group was left in an awkward silence that lingered until the waitress came back minutes later with their meals, dropping Dean’s in front of him without much of a care if all the food stayed on the plate in the process. Jane had to bite her lip to suppress the laugh threatening to bubble up.

They continued to eat, Sam making a casual comment about how good Jane’s breakfast looked while Dean teased his brother for opting for a smoothie rather than the delicious, sugary breakfasts.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick, be right back.” Jane said after a while, sliding out of the booth.

Sam immediately turned to Dean, smacking him on the arm.

“Can I help you?” Dean replied with a mouth full of pancakes.

“Yes, we have to make more of an effort to talk to Jane. Sitting in these awkward silences is…. Awkward.” Sam finished.

“I’m not, not making an effort.” Dean argued weakly.

“Dean, we’re practically adopting her and we don’t know the first thing about her.”

“What do you want me to do, sit here and interrogate her? Besides, we know plenty. Her name is Jane and she’s… she’s around sixteen probably and her dad likes good music. ”

“You just gave me her name, a guess on her age and a fact about her dad, not her.” Sam said giving Dean the trademarked Sam Winchester Bitch Face. “You’ve talked to hundreds of girls, how do you get to know them?”

“The tactics I use on girls I want to take home aren’t what you want to use on Jane, trust me, it would be weirder than the awkward silence.”

“Fine, but we have to do something.”

In the surprisingly clean diner bathroom, Jane stood in front of the sink, waiting for the water to run cold before splashing it on her face. Reaching over blindly to the paper towel dispenser she grabbed one and dabbed her face. She inspected her face in the mirror, noticing the dark bags under her eyes with a groan. She slept so restlessly last night it was as if she didn’t sleep at all.

Bringing her face closer to the mirror she saw a dark figure behind her. Jane saw the reflection of Mia, clad in black clothes that matched her demon eyes.

Jane spun around, only to find no one there.

Her heart raced a million miles an hour as she tried controlling her frightened breaths.

Clenching her eyes and shaking her head, Jane tried to compose herself, but the unsettling thought that she was either hallucinating or being followed by a disappearing demon kept her from being calm.

A few moments later Jane exited the bathroom. Sam smacked Dean on the chest to get his attention, nodding his head in Jane’s direction.

Sliding back into the booth, Jane kept her head down. The brothers shared a look. Sam darted his eyes to Jane then back to Dean, looking at his older brother expectantly.

Dean cleared his throat. “You sure you’re going to be able to eat all that, kid?” He asked, pointing to her plate full of eggs, toast, bacon and a chocolate chip pancake.

Jane perked up at the sound of Dean’s voice. “You, sir, are underestimating my love for

food and my determination.”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you manage to eat all of it.”

“Be prepared to lose that bet.” Jane said, digging to her pancakes.

“I’m going to have to take Dean’s side on this, there’s no way you can fit all that food in you, you’ll explode.”

“Watch me.” Jane said grabbing the mug closest to her and taking a huge swig to wash down the mix of toast and eggs in her mouth. Swallowing with a disgusted face, Jane slammed the mug back down onto the table. “Oh gross, coffee.” She said, sliding the mug back towards Dean and grabbing her actual mug instead.

“You don’t like coffee? What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked in genuine surprise.

“What’s wrong with you, coffee’s so gross.” Jane replied, unoffended, going to washing her mouth out with the orange juice she ordered.

“Suit yourself.” Dean said with a shrug, taking a sip from his mug.

A child at the table beside them yanked a bowl away from his father. “Trix are for kids dad, you can’t have any!” He cried.

Jane audibly groaned.

“You alright?” Dean asked, a little concerned at her small outburst.

“Yeah, I just cringe everytime someone mentions Trix.” She said, shaking as if she could shimmy away the thought. “I did acting when I was younger. I always wanted to do bigger and better things but, acting never really worked out, except for the one Trix commercial I did when I was seven. It’s so embarrassing.”

“I had no idea I was in the presence of a celebrity.” Dean joked. Jane gave a giggle. “You know, Sammy was a theater kid, you should have seen him in Our Town when he was younger.”

“Sorry I had to miss the performance, but it was hard to make it because I don’t think I even existed way back then.”

“It wasn’t that long ago. We aren’t that old, you know.”

“Well I’m sixteen and you guys are, what, in your forties?

“Excuse me, I am only thirty-three.” Dean said in mock offense.

“Oh, do forgive me.” Jane said.

Sam opened his mouth, ready to keep the conversation going before the group delved into silence again, but the doors to the diner burst open. A man, with a rifle in hand, dressed in a distasteful amount of camo, looking out of breath and shaken, stumbled in. A few members of the staff made their way over to see why he had just made such a scene. He pushed them all away, speaking frantically in fragments of sentences.

“It came at me- Bill he- I thought- eyes- I swear- these fangs-” The man managed to get out words in between his heavy breaths.

“Jeff, you aren’t making any sense.” The cook yelled from the back of the kitchen, making his way into the diner’s front.

“Bill- Oh god, Bill- it- his- I watched- and- oh god Bill.” The man cried, collapsing to the ground.

“Jeff what are you talking about.” A waitress asked, coming to his side to help him onto his feet.

Taking a few breaths, Jeff managed to calm down enough to get out a coherent sentence. “It- it killed Bill..”

Dean pushed through the crowd that formed around Jeff, pulling out his fake FBI badge.

“Everybody, please, back away.” Sam said in an authoritative voice, joining his brother.

“Agent Hetfield, sir. Could my partner and I speak with you?”

Sam and Dean brought Jeff outside of the diner to further question him on what he saw.

“Sir, could you please tell us what happened.” Dean asked.

“I was up in the mountains hunting with my buddy, Bill, and last night, I woke up in the middle of the night and I saw this thing huddled over him. I loaded my gun as fast as I could but it was already running away by the time I made it out of my tent. I fired at it anyways but it kept running.” Jeff took a pause, almost shuddering as he recalled more details. “Bill was a bloody mess, and-” Jeff’s voice broke, forcing him to take a moment. “His heart was ripped out of his body.”

“Did you get a good look at what attacked Bill?”

“It was dark, I- I couldn’t really tell.”

Sam and Dean finished up their interrogation with Jeff, not getting much more information out of the man. Jeff went back inside, the diner offering him a free meal as well as calling the local police.

“So werewolf?” Sam said.

“Seems like it, but last time we were sure it was a shifter so who’s to say this is exactly a cut and dry case.”

“Alright, well we could head to a motel, do some research and take it from there.” Sam suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean said, climbing into the driver’s seat when the diner doors flew open with the sound of a little bell.

“Excuse me, agents.” A waitress called, holding the bill in her hand with Jane by her side. “Seems you’re forgetting your daughter and the fact people usually pay after a meal.”

Dean mentally facepalmed. “No, of course, we didn’t- we were only going to the car to-”

“Sure.” The waitress deadpanned. Dean fished a few bills out of his pocket, handing them over to the waitress. She handed Jane a styrofoam box and sent them on their way.

“You two are the worst dads ever.” Jane said, her tone playful but it didn’t stop Sam and Dean from feeling terribly guilty.

Doing what Dean does best, however, he ignored his pestering feelings of guilt and decided to match Jane’s joking tone. “Excuse me but we are not dads, we’re like cool uncles; super fun and less strict and-

“Less responsible?” Jane added.

“Oh, you’re still on the almost forgetting you thing? That was like a whole two minutes ago, way to hold a grudge.” Dean said, causing Jane to giggle.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Uncle Dean.” Sam interjected, mocking his brother. “But I still think I’m young enough to qualify as an older brother.”

“I’ve always wanted an older brother!” Jane exclaimed, taking a liking to the idea. Her mind quickly turned to thinking of Mia and Daniel. They were practically family, acting as the older siblings she always wished she had.

“You’re in luck,” Dean said, distracting Jane from her thoughts. “We happen to be two big brothers and you’re just in time for the buy one get one free sale.”

“How lucky am I?” Jane said, a smile gracing her lips.

Dean smiled at Jane’s happy tone but continued to joke anyways. “Well, actually not that lucky, because you Miss, did not finish your entire breakfast. I’ll be expecting my twenty bucks.”

“Not fair! You made us leave the diner!”

“A deal is a deal.” Sam said.

“No one asked you.” Jane joked.

Sam put his hands up in defeat, distancing himself from Jane and Dean’s fake argument as they continued bickering.

The three had found a motel and decided to start researching. Sam found that there had been bodies found in the same woods that Bill had been killed in. The victims were killed a month apart starting about a year ago, on the night of the full moon, each one with their hearts ripped out of their chests.

“So what do we do now? Wait a month until it attacks again?” Sam asked.

“We could try to figure out who’s transforming.”

“Wouldn’t that be more difficult than waiting?” Jane piped in. “I mean, because regular werewolves don’t remember what happens while they’re transformed, it would be pretty hard to question someone about something they don’t remember doing.” She added. The brothers looked at her strangely, confused as to how she was so knowledgeable about the supernatural. Noticing the boy’s confusion as to what she meant or how she knew it, Jane turned around the laptop to reveal a website she found about werewolves,

“You’re right, but we can’t just wait a month.” Sam said, bending down to read the laptop screen she presented to him.

“Well, maybe we don’t have to.” Jane began, taking back the laptop, typing away. Sam came to sit beside her on the motel bed as Dean came around the back of the two, reading over their shoulders.

“See, Sam, you were looking for deaths similar to Bill’s that happened on nights of the full moon but,” Jane said, opening the website Sam had used to research the deaths. “If you don’t limit it to just nights when there was a full moon, you get,” She said, typing for a moment as she spoke and smacking the search button. “This.”

The list of eleven was now a list of thirty, with deaths occurring at any and all times of the month, becoming more and more frequent as time progressed.

“So we’re not dealing with a werewolf?” Dean asked.

“No,” Sam started, taking the laptop from Jane. “We’re dealing with a pureblood werewolf.” Sam finished, showing his brother and Jane the screen. “They can transform whenever they want.”

“They can feed on animal hearts but once given a taste of human hearts, they cannot resist the urge to eat more of them.” Jane said, reading the article Sam found. “Which explains the frequency of the deaths in the last couple of months.”

“Alright then, let’s suit up.” Dean said, smacking Sam on the back. “Nice work by the way, Jane.”

The boys began packing a bag, loading their handguns with silver bullets. Jane went for her luggage, trying to find dark clothing so she wouldn’t be easily spotted. Throwing on a black sweatshirt, she reached for one of the handguns on the table.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asked, quickly grabbing it out of her hands.

“Sorry, I just wanted to test it out.”

“First, no ‘testing out’ guns when you’re inside. Second, you don’t need this, you aren’t coming with us.” Dean said, checking the safety on the gun before tucking it into his waistband.

“What? Why not?” Jane asked, almost genuinely offended. She was part of the group now, surely she would be able to help.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t a hunter and believe me, you don’t want to be. It’s dangerous and I won’t voluntarily put you in a dangerous situation.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here?” Jane complained, following Dean as he made his way to the door with Sam.

“Yes.” Dean said, going to leave the motel room but Sam pulled him back in, sending him a glare. “We’ll be back before you know it. Watch some TV in the meantime. If you get hungry you can order whatever, just don’t leave this room or let anyone in unless it is absolutely necessary, okay?” Dean said, a lot less crudely, leaving two twenty dollar bills on the table.

“Roger that.” Jane said, swiping the money from the table, already looking up the closest pizza place.

The boys made their way out of the room when Jane called out, “Oh and uh, be safe.”

A half eaten pizza lay on the table, the other half in Jane’s stomach as she sprawled out on the bed, watching TV.

The Winchesters had been gone for three hours and Jane was growing a bit bored; TV could only keep her occupied for so long.

Toying with her hair, trying to invent a new hairstyle, Jane found her hair was greasy. She hadn’t showered since two days ago. Two days ago. Everything in Jane’s life had changed so abruptly, she was almost living an entirely different life than she was 24 hours ago.

Her mind was brought back to the horrendous night when she last saw her family, the blood, the screams, it was all too much. Suddenly, Jane found the urge to scrub her whole body clean, as if the memories would wash away as easily as the dirt.

She walked into the small bathroom, peeling off the clothes she’d been wearing for the past two days. Hearing a door close, she assumed the Winchesters were back. Covered in a towel, Jane closed and locked the bathroom door, turning back towards the shower to come face to face with Mia, just as she and in the diner’s bathroom.

Jane stood in shock as demon Mia came closer. “Miss me, Janie?” She taunted, beginning to circle Jane. Jane couldn’t even form a response. Her eyes darted around the bathroom, looking for something to defend herself with.

She lunged for the plunger next to the toilet while Mia stalked behind her. Admittedly, not the best choice of weapon but maybe the disgusting smell coming off the plunger would be enough to ward off Mia long enough for Jane to run.

Raising the plunger, ready to strike, Jane found no one was there. The door was still shut and locked, no sign of anyone. Jane spun around, trying to find where Mia was hiding, dropping the plunger when she found herself alone.

Clutching her head Jane spoke aloud to herself, “I- I couldn’t- I didn’t imagine that.” She said, trying to assure herself but still feeling crazy.

She could get past thinking she saw Mia in the mirror at the diner but Mia just spoke to her, Jane heard her voice, saw her in front of her. She had watched Mia die, she was certain of it. Jane felt a sense of relief, there was no demon trying to kill her. There was no other explanation besides that Jane had imagined her, but that realization wasn’t comforting.

“I’m going crazy, I am literally losing my mind.” Jane whispered to herself, voice hoarse.

Jane heard keys turning in the lock of the motel room door. Grabbing the plunger again, Jane peaked her head out. Sam and Dean walked in, covered in sweat and dirt, mixed with a fair amount of blood.

“You’re back.” Jane said, exiting the bathroom. “Did everything go well?”

“Yep, we ganked that son of a bitch.” Dean said, plopping down on the bed closest to him.

“Language.” Sam warned. “Are you alright Jane?” Sam asked, noticing Jane’s heavy breathing.

“Yeah, sorry, I just watched a scary movie while you guys were out. Maybe not the best idea.” Jane said with a forced laugh. “Anyways I was about to hop in the shower, but you two could definitely use one more than I could.”

“That’s alright, kid, ladies first.” Dean said, not bothering to get up from his face plant position.

“How gentlemanly of you, but how can I be both a kid and a lady?” Jane joked.

“Don’t question me or I will revoke your showering-first rights.”

“Yes, sir.” Jane saluted before closing the bathroom door.

Jane sat with her legs crossed, wet hair dripping slowly onto the bed she sat on, watching the small motel TV. Sam sat on his bed as Dean showered, enjoying the old movie being played with Jane.

Dean came out of the bathroom, already dressed in his pajamas with his hair towel dried. He grabbed a pillow from Sam’s bed, earning a protest but he wasn’t phased. He started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Jane asked.

“Sleeping in the car tonight, we couldn’t get three beds.” Dean answered.

Jane scooted over in her bed, patting the space next to her. “There’s plenty of room in here.”

“Nah, kid, it’s fine I-”

Jane sprung off the bed, taking another pillow from Sam’s bed, gaining yet another protest. Ignoring Sam, she plopped it in the center of her bed, as a divider.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have Great Wall of Pillow separating us.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t care either way, just thought a bed would be more comfortable than a back seat of some car.”

“Oh no, you didn’t.” Sam interrupted, sounding shocked. Jane whirled around, facing the youngest Winchester, fearful she had somehow said something awful.

“Did you just call my Baby ‘some car’?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised high and arms crossed. “Get out, you are hereby banished from my presence.” Dean said, pointing to the door.

“Dean no, I’m sorry!” Jane fake pleaded.

“That won’t cut it, you’re going to apologize to my Baby.”

“You’ll never take me alive!” Jane cried, throwing herself under the covers, earning a laugh from both boys. “Sam, save me!” She called from under the covers.

“I would, but you disrespected Baby, I can’t be fighting for the wrong side here.”

“How dare you abandon me at a time like this!” Jane called.

“You’re lucky I’m tired, I would so kick your ass right now, but sleep sounds more satisfying.” Dean said, jumping into the bed

Jane peaked just her face out of the covers. “Excuses, excuses.” Quickly diving back under her protective shield of cotton.

The Winchesters passed out rather quickly, leaving Jane by herself in the silent, dark motel room to think.

Her visions of Mia were concerning to her but her mind was clouded with sadder thoughts. The Winchesters were all she had now. Though she was extremely lucky and grateful, she couldn’t help but let a few tears escape her eyes.

Her whole family was gone. They were murdered while Jane cowered in the bathroom, begging Sam and Dean to save the day. She could have done something, she could have tried something, anything. But she didn’t, and she could never change that now. And now, she was alone.

Jane took in a shaky breath as Dean turned in his sleep, now facing her. Seeing Dean’s face reminded her for a moment that she wasn’t alone, she had a new family - of sorts.

With a warm feeling in her chest, Jane wiped her tears away and closed her eyes, slipping off into sleep, listening to the steady breathing of her two saviors.

#supernatural fanfiction #SPN #supernatural imagine #reader #OC #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #winchester sister #winchester imagine #destiel #haha jk

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c-jacksonn · 8 years ago

Text

Lovin’ Ya

request ; Okay oaky okay cause like I need a Soony fic where he just APPRECIATES the FUCK outta you, and he just follows you around and tell you you look amazing and looks just giving you cuddles but as soon and Usnavi tells him to ask you out and he just like tells him to go away because no no no he will not. But he does anyway.

requested by anonymous

pairing ; sonny x reader

words ; 1400 (exactly !)

warnings ; none!

note ; this is semi-edited, so sorry if there are minor mistakes that i missed. also, i didn’t add the cuddles part, probably because i wrote this while sleep-deprived and over the span of a few hours so, and i just didn’t remember it.

Sonny de la Vega. The boy you'd come to cherish as not only a good friend, but also as a bearer of your heart. Everyday, at various times, he would come over to the small café you worked at, order a drink, and depending on if you had the time, would wait until you took a five minute break to talk to you and shower you in compliments (and if you couldn’t take a break, he would wait until the line was gone and just talk to you at the counter.)

Sonny was such a regular, that the shift manager, Selena, had come to adore him, and tried to give you as much time as possible with him. And it was frequent that your coworkers made comment on how cute the two of you would be together, and how Sonny was the kind of guy they wanted and hoped for in life.

Truly, you loved having Sonny be there, unknowingly helping you through insecurity with his words. And the best part is, the praise and the kind words and the appreciation wasn’t confined to the café. If you walked into the bodega, and Sonny was there, he would slide over the counter and follow you around the small grocery store, reminding you that you looked good, and then telling you about his day and his favorite things.

He once told you that if he ever got a million dollars, he would spend some on you, and donate the rest to bettering the New York educational system, as well as everyone in the barrio. After telling him that you thought that was extremely selfless of him, he wiped his upper lip with his right thumb, smiled cockily, and said, “I know.”

Sonny had repeatedly told you his favorite things about you, as well. From the way he said it so often, you were aware that he really liked your hair and your eyes, claiming that “your hair is super silky and your eyes – oh man, y/n, your eyes are beautiful.” But he also loved your hands when he would be able to hold them to take you somewhere, or just feeling you play with his fingers while he talked to you.

The only reason you knew that was because, once again, he always talked about it. What you didn’t know, though, was that Usnavi, Sonny’s older cousin and a good friend of yours, had told Sonny that he had to ask you out soon, or you were gonna be off the market and Sonny would just be a “nice friend to have around.”

And what Sonny didn’t know is that Benny, another friend from around Washington Heights, had been talking to you when he was off work, telling you all about Sonny’s crush on you, and how, whenever Usnavi and him got into a conversation about Nina and Vanessa, Sonny would join in and talk about you like they talked about their girlfriends – like he was completely and utterly in love.

Usnavi had felt the need to change the whole “back and forth” thing, and, as much as he loved his cousin, he knew that Sonny was absolutely helpless when it came to you, and that the only reason he was able to compliment you so smoothly was because he constantly gave himself pep talks, or acted the scene out in his mirror, then again in his mind.

So, as the younger boy walked through the bodega, checking the inventory, Usnavi called, “Asked her out yet?”

Sonny stopped in his tracks and glared at his cousin from the opposite side of the store, “No. What’s it to you?”

“Woah-ho,” Usnavi laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “just asking, ‘cuz. You’re practically dating already, why not make it official?”

The other side of the shop was quiet for a moment before a small voice said, “She’d never go for a guy like me, Usnavi. She’s way out of my league.”

A burst of laughter came from the man at the counter, “You think Vanessa isn’t outta mine? And Nina outta Benny’s? No girl is in any guy’s league if you ask me.”

Sonny walked back to the front counter, shrugging at his cousin, “Dunno. If she says no, it could ruin what I have, and I don’t– I don’t wanna do that, y’know?”

“All I’m sayin’ is, don’t be afraid to get the girl. I can guarantee she feels the same way, kid.”

Just then, the little bell on the top of the door chimed and the day started. But this time, Sonny had a little more on his mind than just his favorite things about you. As the day drug on, he thought, and had no clue, about what he’d even say to start the conversation with you, let alone the words he’d use to ask you to be his.

Meanwhile, you began to think that maybe the boy with the big smile and the confident aura would be MIA. You weren’t particularly worried, considering you’d probably stop by the bodega later that day, anyway. If you didn't see him there, then you’d be slightly worried.

Sure enough, right as the café was about to close, Sonny had still been a no-show. Wiping the tables one last time, making sure the coffee makers were clean, and then checking and counting the money you’d earned that day, you closed up shop, waving bye to Selena. While walking the block it took to get to Usnavi's grocery store, you noticed The Heights were a bit livelier that day, what with kids playing on the bikes and scooters in the streets, and joggers all about – smiles on almost all of their faces.

Once you got to the bodega, you fixed your hair a little and smoothed down your shirt before walking in and greeting the older cousin, “Hey, U.S. Navy!” It had been a running gag between the two of you at first – Usnavi would say something about you and Sonny, or your job, and you would retaliate with his name’s origin (in the most derogatory way, of course – and giggling a little bit, too).

At first, he took offense, making a pun on your name, but after a while, it had just become what you called him when you were having a good day. “Hey, y/n. Sonny’s been lookin’ for you.”

“Sonny’s been what?” The younger boy came out, his hat turned back in its usual backward flat bill style, and his muscle tee dawning a graphic of TMNT, a box in his hands.

“U.S. here says you’ve been looking for me?”

“Usnavi!” Sonny whisper-shouted, furrowing his dark eyebrows at the one clad in a red shirt and brown cap.

Usnavi took the box from Sonny’s hands, smiled smugly, and shrugged, “Honesty is apart of America – kinda.”

Laughing with raised eyebrows you watched their silent facial-expression-conversation, and then Usnavi started whistling (trying to be casual and failing) and walked off with a saunter.

“So, what’s up?” You asked, grabbing Sonny’s attention.

“O-Oh, uh,” Sonny stuttered, taking a deep breath and swallowing a little, “I-I’ve been, uh, meanin’ to ask if you, uh, if you would be interested, possibly, in I don’t know, being– being my girlfriend?” He smiled awkwardly, tucking his hands in his pockets while raising his shoulders, and looking at you with both hopeful and helpless brown eyes.

Smiling, you closed the gap between the two of you, grabbed his warm, red-tinted face and brought him in for a kiss. He sort of missed your lips at first, kissing the corner of your mouth, got a little closer to the center on the second try, and finally kissed you right on the third.

By then, you were smiling, and when he pulled away, you sarcastically commented, “Third time’s a charm, huh, Sonny?”

He turned a darker shade of red than before, and let out a laugh, looking down at his feet with an embarrassed gaze, “S-Sorry,” he muttered, “got nervous.”

You smiled once more, giggling softly, “It’s okay, Sonny. And to answer your question, yes. I will be your girlfriend.

Needless to say, he didn’t miss the fourth time, and you’d never seen such a wide smile on Sonny de la Vega’s face. He definitely had your heart in his hands, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#sonny de la vega x reader #ith #in the heights #in the heights x reader #in the heights imagines #sonny de la vega

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