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rune-writes · 18 days

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Sakura Kaleidoscope

Fandom: Persona 5

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Ren Amamiya/Ann Takamaki

Summary: The day before Ren is set to go flower-viewing with Ann, Sojiro gifts him an old camera he once had. Only, it seems the camera holds more memory than the old coffee master would like to admit.

Notes: it's been so long since i last wrote shuann. so here is a little something for the Week :) written for @shuannweek 2024 Day 2: Photography.

Read on AO3.

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Ren found a camera tucked in the corner of an old dusty box at the attic. He had been cleaning his room when he decided to look into the cardboard boxes he had left untouched the entire year he was there. A small black bag sat in the depths of one of them. When he took it out, he disturbed the layer of dust that had settled there, prompting him to cough.

“A DSLR?” he said to himself, taking the camera out for inspection. He turned it around and dusted it off. It still looked as pristine as new, as though it hadn’t seen much use before it was shelved inside the box. A shame, he thought. Ren didn’t know much about cameras but it seemed like a good model. He pressed down on the power button. It stayed dead.

Of course.

Rising to his feet, Ren climbed down the stairs into the coffee shop. Business was slow. Only the old couple were present, conversing about nothing in particular. Sojiro sat on the counter as he watched TV, a bored look on his face. He was in the middle of a yawn when Ren approached, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the camera in Ren’s hand.

“Now that’s something I haven’t seen in a while,” he murmured.

“I take it this is yours then?” Ren asked.

Sojiro grunted. “Was mine, I guess.” He took the camera from Ren and fumbled with it for a bit. He tried turning it on, only to chuckle wryly when it refused. “Of course. How many years has it been since I last used it?”

“I didn’t know you used to do photography.”

“I didn’t.” Sojiro huffed. He didn’t offer further elaboration.

“Oh come now!” came the old woman’s voice. Having heard their exchange, she countered, her husband nodding his affirmation. “Didn’t you used to bring a camera all the time whenever you went out with that young lady. What was her name again? Ishi… Ishikawa?”

“Isshiki, I think,” her husband offered.

“Right! Isshiki! She was such a lovely woman. Smart, too.”

Sojiro cleared his throat. “All right, all right! That will do! Any more and you’d expose all my embarrassing secrets.”

“My, So-chan, I would think you’re old enough not to be embarrassed by your own story.”

The old couple giggled, much to Sojiro’s affectionate vexation. Although, when Ren deigned to join in the fun—a little smirk and a half-breathy chuckle—his guardian hit him with an ice-cold glare.

“Sorry,” Ren mumbled.

“Anyway,” he went on, giving the camera back to Ren, “you can have it if you want. I don’t have much use for it any longer.”

“Really?”

Sojiro shrugged. “Better you than me, in any case. Don’t think she’d like it if it stayed cooped up in a box, collecting dust. I think you’d make a fine new master for it.” The old proprietor gave him a rare grin before his face twisted into consternation. “The problem is I can’t remember where I put the charger. It should be in the box along with the camera. But if not, I’ll take a look at my house.”

It wasn’t in the box, so later that day, Sojiro had Ren mind the shop as he went back to his house. It took a while, but after an hour or so, he returned with the charger, saying, “Sorry, got caught up in cleaning some stuff out.”

Ren brought the charger to his room, where he connected the cable into the camera, then plugged the other end into the socket behind the TV. A red light blinked back at him. Ren didn’t quite know how long it’d stayed dead, but at least the charger still worked. He only hoped that it was still functional.

He left it alone then to help Sojiro at the shop until near closing time. He washed the dishes and swept the floor, and when there was nothing left to do but close for the night, Sojiro let him retire to his room. So he climbed back up, intent upon checking on the camera, when he found Morgana pawing it on the TV table.

“Hey.” He reprimanded the cat, swiping the camera off the wooden surface.

“The light was blinking so I got curious,” the cat said defensively, as though that was reason enough to almost drop it off the table.

“The light was blinking ‘cause it was charging,” he said. It was now blinking green. He unplugged the cable, sat on the couch, and turned it on. The screen blinked to life.

This brought him back. He used to play around with his father’s cameras when he was small. Ren directed the lens to Morgana and, adjusting the lens, snapped a picture. The pupils in Morgana’s eyes slitted at the sudden flash of flight; he snarled and growled then hopped off the table. Ren snickered.

“Let’s see now…”

Maneuvering through the myriad of buttons and menus on the camera, Ren finally found the gallery, which showed him a photo of Morgana’s blank face. He stifled a laugh and asked the cat to come and see. Morgana wrinkled his nose, but came up to the back of the couch and propped himself on Ren’s shoulder. He hissed at his own picture.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Ren said with a half-smile.

“For you, maybe.” Morgana’s paw came to Ren’s cheek in what he assumed was an attempt at a playful swat, but the soft pads only softened the blow so it felt like a pat instead, albeit a forceful one. Ren chuckled under his breath as his eyes drifted to the number at the top right corner: 83. He cocked his head to the side.

Pressing the next button, a picture of an unfamiliar house suddenly filled the screen, somewhat blurry. “Huh,” came Morgana’s quiet comment. The next several images were of the same house but from different angles, then empty streets—a neighborhood.

“Are they Sojiro’s?” the cat wondered.

“Probably.”

The next photo, however, made him pause. Ren saw a sakura tree in what looked to be a sidewalk, but it was the figure dressed in black that froze him. He shut the camera off so quickly that Morgana meowed in protest. Just then, lights from the floor below disappeared, followed by the sound of a jingling bell and the jangle of keys. Sojiro had exited the store, clicking the lock into place.

Ren sighed in defeat. Perhaps, he could ask Sojiro about it tomorrow.

***

Ann’s message came early the next morning. 9 AM at the station? She asked.

Ren sent a quick reply then got ready. Sojiro had already prepared curry for breakfast by the time Ren came down from his attic.

“Hanami, huh,” he mused. “Where are you going? Inokashira?”

Ren shook his head. “Ueno. We decided to go a little farther.”

An awkward pause fell before Sojiro said, “I see.”

Ren quietly eyed the coffee master, but Sojiro quickly regained his bearing. He hoped Ren would get some pretty views. It wasn’t quite the season yet but the news had reported some already blooming in places. Ren nodded absently—that was the reason why he had proposed the idea to Ann. He only had a few days left in Tokyo before he had to return to his hometown. They might not have a chance to go flower viewing together. Ann had then decided where they would go.

Silence stretched, filled only by soft TV noises. Ren cleared his throat.

“Sojiro, is it really okay for me to have the camera?”

“I already told you. It’ll only collect dust if I keep it.” He hadn’t even missed a beat. As though sensing Ren’s reluctance, he added, “Just think of it as a farewell gift.”

“What about the photos?”

“I doubt there’s much of it.”

Sojiro grunted and shrugged, as though wanting to drive home that the camera really didn’t mean anything to him. But rather than being nonchalant about it, he seemed to be avoiding the subject altogether.

“Can I look at them, then?” Ren tried again.

There, just a quick stilling of his hands before Sojiro returned brewing his coffee, but it was enough. “Suit yourself.”

Ann was already waiting for him by the time he reached Shibuya Station. It was already a bit warm so she wore a simple loose floral shirt with a pair of jeans. Her hair was unusually undone: long luscious blonde flowing freely down her back, kept in place by a couple sakura-patterned pins near her temple. Ren couldn’t help but grin when their eyes met.

“W—what?” Pink tinged her cheeks in fluster, though he suspected she knew what he was thinking.

Still, Ren grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers together. “You look pretty.” It took all his self-control not to break into the biggest, most idiotic grin he would have made because the way Ann’s face went instantly red looked so adorable, it was hard to contain his affections to a bare minimum in such a public space. Instead, he settled with a smirk—albeit somewhat teasing—which apparently did more damage than he’d realized. Ann’s ears went scarlet, then she playfully slapped his arm, which he deftly dodged.

“Stop being sassy!”

“I’m not,” he responded with a laugh. She really was beautiful, now even more so when the hint of a smile slowly revealed itself beneath her pout. He tugged her hand. “Let’s get going.”

The station was unexpectedly crowded for a Sunday morning, though the sakura blooming had reached the news so perhaps Ren should have expected otherwise. As they headed towards the platform, Ann noticed the square black bag Ren was carrying on his shoulder.

“A camera,” she said when he showed it to her. She studied it, fumbled around with it. “Sojiro’s, did you say it was?”

Ren nodded. “He said I could have it.”

“Huh. I didn’t peg him to be into photography.”

“Neither did I—” The sound of a camera shutter cut him off and Ren looked up. Ann had turned the camera on and directed it at him, smirking. He frowned. “Hey. Delete that.”

“Why? You look good.” She giggled.

“Ann—”

She stepped away when he reached out to grab her hand. “Candid is best,” she said, still giggling. He tried to catch her but she stepped away again, and again, and again, always keeping herself just out of reach, until Ren sighed in half-exasperation and made to run for her—

When the intercom announced the arrival of their train.

“Ah! It's here!” Ann shut off the camera and took his hand. “C’mon, we don’t wanna miss it.”

They slipped into the crowd and managed to grab a seat inside the train. Ann returned the camera back to Ren, who turned it on again at the first chance he had. You look good, she’d said, when all the pictures she had taken were either in an odd angle, blurry, or even downright bad. What was even this shot of his close-up skin that he could almost see his pores? Ann giggled softly again when she noticed what he was frowning at.

“You know I’ll get back at you ten fold, right?” he said.

“You know I’ll be ready for it.”

She grinned, and he resisted the urge to bop her head or even kiss her cheek. Instead, he sighed, turned the camera off, then stashed it back inside his bag. He spotted her hand on her lap and inadvertently intertwined his fingers through hers.

“Ren—” She made to pull away, but he locked their hands together.

“That’s what you get for teasing me,” he said.

Her face twisted in such a way that usually bespoke of an upcoming counter, but eventually, Ann settled into his hand and into her seat.

“You started it,” came her quiet mumble.

This time Ren did bop her head. Albeit fondly.

***

Their destination was Ueno Park. It took only a few minutes to walk from the station. The news reported that the sakura blooms had been spotted in the park as early as two days ago. Indeed, as early as it was, a crowd was already trickling into the park. Not as much as peak season but already a hefty amount, according to Ann. They entered the gates, then followed the crowd, letting the sea of people carry them to where the heart of sakura blooms gathered.

Ren took out his camera again. Letting Ann walk ahead of him, he called Ann to a stop once she reached some distance away. He had already put his eye behind the camera by the time Ann half-turned towards him, and then he snapped the picture. Ann exclaimed in surprise when she realized what he’d just done. Ren, meanwhile, was half-smiling to himself as he checked the result of his work.

“Not bad,” he mused—it wasn't blurred at least—just as Ann stomped back towards him and said, “Don’t just take my picture like that.”

“Candid is best, as you said so yourself.” Ann fumed, made to snatch the camera away, but Ren held it out of reach. “I told you I’d get back at you ten fold.”

He grinned, to which Ann scowled. “Fine. But I’m taking your share of the crepe.” Because apparently that was where Ann had been heading: a crepe stall erected on the side of the wide central path flanked on each side by tall sakura trees now in bloom. Yes, it wasn’t peak season yet—not all the flowers had blossomed—but pretty dots of pink and white had decorated the boughs on either side, giving off a sweet scent that only came around once a year.

Ren could only chuckle and acquiesce at her request.

He followed behind her, capturing moments left and right: a family of three, the father carrying his little girl on his shoulders; the flowers on the trees, going as close as he could to capture the delicate petals in his camera; the tranquil moat, the crowded stalls, then a wide shot of the sakura-lined path leading deeper into the park.

Ann was still queuing at the crepe stall when Ren returned. Putting his eye to the camera, he zoomed in. He took a picture of her back, at the way she slipped a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, of how she noticed his presence not far behind her, then her frown at the realization of being photographed silently again, and finally her small smile, and a full-on grin. He often thought that Ann’s features were dynamic—expressive. He swore he’d seen her cry, get mad, and laugh all in the span of one minute. Seeing the pictures he’d just taken, Ren knew it wasn’t just his feelings.

Ren was just stashing his camera back inside his bag and meant to wait in the queue with Ann when Ann appeared behind him. She gave him a crepe—Banana and Lemon. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Let’s find somewhere to sit,” she said instead, then added with a glance, “and I’m gonna take a look at the pictures you've taken.” She didn’t leave any room to say no. Not that Ren would want to .

So they walked down the path, enjoying their crepes—hers was Double Chocolate & Almond. Farther into the park, they found a rather empty spot beneath a tree on the bank of the moat. Ann took a picnic mat from her bag and spread it out for them.

It was nice, he thought. The air was slightly warmer now, the sakura—while still early—was beautiful. Out on the still water, people rowed boats languidly.

Ren showed Ann the camera gallery after they finished their crepes. They started with the ultra-close skin-pore photo Ann had taken before, which made her laugh and him frown again. Then it cut into the park, and they saw pictures of families, children, and friends—all engaged in different forms of activities.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Ann said at the image of the general crowd amidst pink trees. “Have you ever learned photography before?”

“My father was a journalist so we had a camera at home,” Ren replied. “I used to mess around with it.”

Ann made a non-committal comment. Then she pressed next, and she paused. Ren looked over her shoulder and found that she had arrived at the first picture of her: her body half-turned, face set in inquiry, framed by the pink sakura blossoms on each side. The crowd almost drowned her, but her blonde hair and floral shirt was enough to make her stand out—at least to him.

He glanced at her, waited for her response, but Ann only clicked next, then next, and next again.

“You really meant it when you said you’d get back at me ten fold,” she said at last, but her voice was quiet. She’d arrived at her grinning face, zoomed in and angled. The sun almost made her gleam blindingly bright. Ren wouldn’t tell her but he planned to print that shot and slip it in his wallet.

“Aren’t I good?” he said in a forced smugness because Ann had become speechless.

“Really.”

Her honesty made him pause. She cleared her throat, shook herself, then clicked next again. Except, they’d gotten to the last of his pictures and were now back at the beginning. A shot of a house front looked back at them.

“Ah,” Ren said, reaching out to take the camera from her, “I think this is Sojiro’s. I haven’t taken much of a look.” A small lie, but it didn’t feel right to pry into another person’s memories.

Ann looked at him. “Sojiro gave it to you knowing he still had some photos in it?”

“He didn’t seem too keen about it. But…”

“But?”

He glanced at Ann, who was searching his face inquiringly. The camera was technically his now, and Sojiro did allow him to look through the gallery. He decided to show her the source of his hesitancy, skipped the next several images until they came to the one that had frozen him.

“Is that Futaba?” Ann said with a soft gasp.

A younger Futaba, barely twelve, they guessed. Her hair was still black, but there were no mistaking the big round eyes and glasses. Then the woman behind her could only be Wakaba Isshiki. They recognized the sleek black hair, sharp features, and neat dress.

Knowing the history between Sojiro and the Isshiki mother and daughter, there was no doubt the contents of the gallery would be private territory between Sojiro and his heart. And yet, the old coffee master had given him free rein on what to do with the camera as he saw fit.

“Did you tell Sojiro about this?” Ann asked.

“Couldn’t. He was avoiding it; wouldn’t even let his regulars tease him about it.”

Yet Ren was curious; he couldn’t deny that. Perhaps they really were nothing much, as Sojiro had claimed. He pressed the next button, then the next, and again.

What followed were a series of pictures of Wakaba and Futaba, sometimes together, other times alone. Feeding a stray cat, making curry, a trip to the park. The images felt warm, sincere. Even though Sojiro had claimed his feelings were one-sided, Ren could see how much the old man had meant to Wakaba. He doubted she would have been able to make such a bright smile had it been another person behind the camera.

Ren clicked next, and it seemed they arrived at a video.

“It’s so pretty!” A young Futaba ran across the screen; the camera desperately tried to follow her.

“Be careful, Futaba! You’ll trip!” a familiar voice appeared—Sojiro.

They spotted lanterns strung between sakura trees in full bloom. It was evening and the lanterns emitted a mesmerizing glow amidst the sea of flowers. Music echoed from the distance—drums. Laughter sounded nearby and the camera swiveled to the source.

“You’re such a worrywart, Sojiro. Futaba will be all right,” Wakaba said. “It’s not often she gets to have fun like this.”

“Yes, but—” The camera shifted again. Ren scowled inwardly at the haphazard movements.

Just then, Futaba fell, and Sojiro yelped. But Wakaba only laughed beside him. She rushed to the scene and helped her daughter stand up, murmured something to her, before both of them turned to the camera and Futaba called out with the biggest grin on her face, “Thanks for taking me here, Sojiro!”

They watched her run, watched as the camera trembled as it slowly, shakily, zoomed into Wakaba’s profile. She was watching her daughter frolic with the softest expression on her face. Then, as though she had just noticed the camera on her, she looked to her side and smiled.

The video ended, and silence fell.

Neither Ren nor Ann knew quite what to say. It felt like they had just glimpsed into the old man’s diary. Perhaps it was wrong of him to take the camera, but Sojiro clearly didn’t want it anymore.

A million things popped to Ren’s mind—things he would like to say to his guardian—but the words died before they could reach his mouth.

“This camera clearly holds important memories for Sojiro.” Ann broke the silence. “How could he throw it away?”

“He said that he doesn’t want it to collect dust.” Ren recalled what Sojiro had told him the night before. “That ‘she’ wouldn’t want it cooped up in a storage box.”

“She?” It clicked with her. “Did Wakaba give Sojiro this camera?”

“If that’s true, I can see why he doesn’t use it any longer.”

Ann pursed her lips in consternation. “Should you give it back?”

“Honestly, I’ve thought about it but I think he gave it to me as a way to respect Wakaba’s memory. So that the camera can be put to good use.” Sojiro might not remember just what this little box of memories contained, but from what Ren had seen, it was clearly important. The video dated five years ago. He could transfer them, save them somewhere, then give them to him before he left.

There were still several photos left before they’d reach his picture of Morgana from the night before, but Ren decided it was enough prying. He was about to shut it off when Ann spoke:

“That’s Ueno Park—those lanterns. It’s the Sakura Festival.”

Ann told him of the Sakura Festival that Ueno Park would hold every year in its grounds. They’d have lanterns strung between the trees and music to decorate the day. Sometimes parades would come down the central path. But it seemed right now the festival wouldn’t be until a few days yet when the sakura had fully blossomed.

She looked downcast, and Ren noted the melancholy in her tone as she said, “You would’ve been gone by then.” Now he knew why she had asked to visit Ueno Park today.

“It’s really pretty—” Ann perked up, “—especially at night when the lanterns are all lit up. We may not be able to see it today but I guess now you’ve seen how it would’ve looked like.”

Her smile was tight; her eyes hollow. She really was bad at hiding her emotions. He looked at his camera. Sojiro’s video was still displayed on the screen. A warm, eerie glow painted the trees; the lanterns all frozen in time. Beautiful, and alluring.

“Maybe we can see it someday.”

She looked up.

“I mean, we’ll be third-years next term,” he went on. “If I can get into a good uni in Tokyo next year, I should think we’ll be able to meet like this again. And perhaps hold a proper hanami, too.”

Her eyes lit up. She held up her pinky finger. “Promise?”

At that, Ren laughed. “What are we—kids?”

“I want you to promise me that we’ll go flower-viewing together again.”

She looked quite adamant, though the blue of her eyes glinted with delight. Seeing no other recourse, Ren chuckled under his breath, then twined his little finger with hers, locking the promise into place.

~ END ~

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A/N: the part about his father being a journalist is an old hc I had that I kinda explored in another fic of mine

#shuannweek2k24 #shuann #shuannweek #ann takamaki #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #persona #persona 5 #p5 #fanfiction #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic

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loveyhoneydovey · 3 years

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SFW Alphabet with Joaquín Torres

Note: I've been dying to write something like this so I decided to do it with my baby first. Might do Sam next

All my stories are written with a bisexual reader of colour in mind, but anyone else is more than welcome to read them

Joaquín Torres x GN!Reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s a very affectionate partner and especially shows his love through physical affection and acts of service. He wants to feel useful and do his best to make life easier and more enjoyable for you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’d be the type of best friend that’s not physically there often, due to the nature of his job. However, when you do get a chance to spend it feels like he’s never been gone. He completely focuses on you, asks for updates about your life and checks if you need anything. He’s so chill and he’s got the type of personality that has you at ease. You first met him at a mutual friend’s wedding, you both got a bit tipsy and decided to hang out with each other and that was the start of a beautiful friendship

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES!!! As I previously mentioned, he loves physical touch and cuddling is one of his favourite ways of showing affection. He loves being the small spoon and he’s not ashamed to say it. He says it’s because you make him feel safe and makes him feel like he has a home to go back to after all the shit he sees

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He wants to settle down for sure, eventually. Before meeting you, he thought that would come later, but you definitely made him rethink. I don’t think he’s the best cook, but I think he has a few of recipes of food his mom made him when he was younger. Those are the ones he learned to perfect. As for cleaning, because of how strict his life is at the army, I think he allows himself to be a bit messy at home. Definitely messy and not dirty. You both try to split house chores evenly.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I think he’d be honest and would do it in person. Ending a relationship that played such an important part in his life is definitely heartbreaking, but he thinks he owes it to himself and to you to put an end to it before it gets worse. He’d rather end things on semi good terms than letting it sour and go nowhere.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He always told himself, when it came to relationships, he’d go with the flow and see how he felt about long-term commitment. He’s a m*ilitary boy, so I think he kinda (unintentionally) follows the stereotype and proposes quickly. Although in his case he does it because he’s truly in love with you and doesn’t want to wait longer than he has to make you his. He’d propose after about a year and a half I’d say.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Have you seen him? He’s the gentlest sweetest baby in every way. I think the fact that he sees so much violence and horror during his deployment pushes him to be more gentle in other aspects of his life. More specifically with you and his family. He wants you to feel like you can come to him for anything whether it’s when you’re feeling down or when you’ve cut your finger on a piece of glass. Either way he’ll treat you with kindness, but not like you’re breakable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

omg he LOVES hugs. Again, due to the nature of his job, he doesn’t get a lot of physical affection, which drives him crazy. So when he’s home, you can expect him to attack you with hugs all day long. Doesn’t matter if you’re washing the dishes or brushing your teeth. He’ll come up from behind and wrap his arms around your waist, while putting his chin on your shoulder. If you’re facing him, he’s going to engulf you and wrap his arms around you. His hugs are warm and comforting and make you feel safe.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

oh real quick, but actually so do you. I actually headcanon that you two say it at the same time by accident. You both were probably nervous because it was after like two months, but end up laughing it off cause you were so in sync.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He understands the root of jealousy is mostly insecurity, so he doesn’t get jealous often, because he’s secure in his relationship with you and is actually pretty confident with himself. Of course, it happens occasionally, he’s only human. However, you both always thought that feeling jealous sometimes wasn’t bad, but what could lead to issues was the way one could act on it. So, whenever he feels jealous he takes a moment to collect his thoughts if he needs to, then you’d both talk about it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are often playful and sweet. He doesn’t like to take himself too seriously and neither do you, so you keep things light and playful, but that doesn’t mean it’s not passionate. On the contrary, you feel his love for you with every kiss he leaves on you skin. His favourite place to kiss you is on the nose, because of the way you scrunch it and giggle after he kisses it. As for where he liked to be kissed, soon after you started dating, you found out he loved being shirtless which allowed you to notice he had a beauty mark on the upper part of his right shoulder. From that moment, you developed a habit of kissing it and it made him melt, so it became his favourite place to be kissed.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Oh the BEST. For some reason he attracts them. You told him it was probably because he was a child himself and he flipped you off. You actually think it’s because he’s so cheerful and happy, and he treats them like they’re his friends. You’ve caught him having full on conversations with your friends’ babies who couldn’t even speak yet. And once you had kids, he did the same thing with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Whenever possible, you have lazy mornings where you alternate between sleeping, having lazy morning sex and snacking. If it’s a regular morning, he usually has to leave before you, and every time you’d try to distract him and make him stay a bit longer. He’s so used to your “five more minutes, please” that he started waking up five minutes earlier.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

This man has a whole skincare routine before going to sleep. If you also do, then you both complete your routines side by side in front of the bathroom mirror. He might read a bit before bed (and you try to sneakily take a pic of him in his glasses cause you think he looks so cute), or you’d both talk about your day and maybe cuddle a bit before turning off your lamps and getting some sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’d open up slowly, there was no pressure between the two of you and he took his time to share the more difficult parts of his life. Now if you open up to him about something defining or traumatic that happened in your life, he might open up faster to let you know you’re not alone, but also to reciprocate the trust you put in him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s pretty patient most of the time and tries to not let himself get angry over little things, however he’s still human. So depending on the gravity of the situation, he might get angered quickly if he sees something upsetting happening, however, he’s very careful with the way he reacts. He knows something done in anger can lead to regret and guilt, so he thinks before he acts and speaks.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I think he’d remember an important date like your birthday, he knows around what time your anniversary is, but I feel like he would forget which date it is exactly. He’d remember the most random facts about you, like the kind of stuff where you think he was paying attention, but he was listening subconsciously.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Cliché, but it was during your honeymoon. It was the first time you had referred to him as your husband and it made his heart swell with pride. The love you held for him was so obvious when you looked at him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s protective when he needs to be. He’s not overbearing and trusts that you’re capable of taking care of yourself most of the time. He will step in if he feels like a situation is escalating (let’s say if you’re getting physically or verbally harassed) and he will put himself physically between you and whoever’s trying to harm you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Omg listen this baby puts so much effort into making your dates enjoyable. He plans out full picnics with cute cakes and charcuterie boards and that doesn’t stop as your relationship progresses. Any gifts he gives you usually have a meaning behind them, and he doesn’t always buy them, sometimes he makes them himself. As I said, he is a bit messy in his daily life, but you two actually have a chart with who’s supposed to do what and that’s how you share your chores, and he does mostly follow it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a habit of leaving some important stuff until the last minute. It works out in the end, but it causes him an unnecessary amount of stress.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

… have you seen the amount shirtless selfies Danny takes? I think Torres is the exact same. So, he does like to take care of his looks, especially when he sees the effect it has on you. And he has to stay in shape either way, due to his job

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I think he’d be heartbroken and might feel incomplete for the first few months, but as time goes one, he begins to feel whole again and learns to feel self sufficient.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He wants to learn another language fluently someday. He wants to help people and he thinks there’s no better way than being able to understand their needs in their native language to be able to help

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think he doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes or smoke. He doesn’t mind if his partner’s a smoker, but he probably wouldn’t be around them while they’re smoking.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

This boy sleeps in the weirdest, funniest positions. Like you’d go to sleep in a normal position side by side, or with your back to him, then when you’d wake up you’d find him in a new position every time.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres #tfatws imagine #tfatws

140 notes · View notes

caffeinatedbraincell · 3 years

Note

Thank you so much for the wonderfully sweet andromaquynh story! 🥰💖 if I may request more since I saw the Touch sheet and uh I’m in love:

24. Whispering in their ear, lips touching their skin, either pairing

Thank you for this ask Shatters!!! And for encouraging me along the way<3 I know it took forever but I hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

The door of Dr. Shukla’s office rattled. Inside, Joe took a sharp breath. Nicky threaded their hands together beneath the table, murmuring reassuringly.

A second later, the doctor walked in, large yellow folder in hand and a stethoscope slung across her neck. Joe and Nicky stood to greet her.

“Please, be seated. It’s alright,” she said, voice low and steady. “I’m Dr. Shukla, a neurologist. I have some CTs and MRIs here of Mr. Yusuf Al-Kaysani’s brain that we’ll be discussing today.”

Joe exhaled shakily as they all sat down. Next to him, Nicky cleared his throat.

“How bad is it, doctor?”

“Good and bad aren’t diagnoses, Mr.…”

“Al-Kaysani. I’m his husband. But call me Nicky, please.”

“Of course, Nicky.” She extracted the prints from the folder. “There is no easy way to put this. The truth is, the symptoms Yusuf is presenting with, and these images from his scans, make it very likely that what we’re dealing with here is early-onset dementia. Possibly Alzheimer’s.”

In the silence that followed, Joe sighed in relief. Finally, someone had said the words. It wasn’t a vague suspicion hanging over his head anymore. It was reality. They could work with reality.

Next to him, Nicky was arguing with the doctor.

“…but how can you be sure? Scans are inconclusive when it comes to diagnosing-”

“I would not have brought this diagnosis to the table if there was any better explanation for what Yusuf is experiencing. Any at all.”

“But-”

“Nicolò.” Joe moved his hand to Nicky’s thigh. He looked at the doctor. “So where do we go from here?”

Dr. Shukla leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I will not mislead you, Yusuf. There is no cure. But there are treatments - therapies, medications, management strategies - that can slow the progression of the disease. You can still live a long and meaningful life.”

“Of course he’ll live a long and meaningful life!” Nicky exclaimed.

“Tesoro, please-”

“Look,” Dr. Shukla said. “I know this is extremely hard. For both of you. But what’s important in this moment is that you take your time to process this news and adapt to it. Be there for each other, and be patient with each other.” She stood and walked over to her computer. “I’m going to put in a prescription for something called Razelon; it’s a cholinesterase inhibitor that will reduce early behavioral symptoms and boost cognitive function.”

“Do we need to pick it up today?” Nicky asked.

“Yes. Yusuf, I’m starting you off on half a pill. We’ll see how you react to it. If it works for you, we can modify the dose as necessary going forward.”

As they stepped out of the clinic into the stinging wind, Joe pulled his coat tighter against his body. At his side, Nicky fumbled with his phone, pulling up the prescription.

“Razelon,” he muttered to himself, typing it into Google. “Look, Joe, it seems to be a fairly common and effective treatment. Actually, it’s good the doctors caught this early. I’m sure we can-”

“Nicky.”

“-make this work until something more effective comes out. Alzheimer’s research is at a revolutionary place right now and-”

“Nicky…”

“-there’s definitely going to be some new, highly effective treatments on the market in a few-”

“Nicolò!”

Nicky froze where he was reaching for his car keys, lips pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“My love, we’ve had over one thousand years together.” Joe stepped forward, gently taking his hands. “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

Nicky shoved him away lightly. “Stop it, Joe. That’s nothing to joke about.”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. I don’t care if it’s been a millennium. If you don’t think I’m going to fight tooth and nail for every second - every single second - we can possibly have together, then you’re wrong. You’re wrong.”

“I will fight with you, my love, I swear. But-”

“But what?”

“But I cannot watch you mourn me while I am still here. Promise me this changes nothing between us, Nicky. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m suddenly made of glass.”

“Says the person who tried to wrap me in literal bubble wrap when we discovered we were mortal.”

Joe snorted. “Touché.”

Nicky stared at him for a second. Then, he leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet. “Get in the car. I’ll buy you a caramel frappucino by the pharmacy, yeah?”

***

“Joe, don’t forget, Nile’s coming over at 8 tonight for dinner, so we’ll have to be back at least an hour before that.”

“I don’t know, tesoro, forgetting is kind of what I do best now,” Joe quipped from the couch.

Nicky stuck his head out of the kitchen testily. “Still not funny, you asshole.”

It has been several months since that fateful day at the clinic, and Joe could tell he was getting worse. He didn’t feel it, exactly; the Razelon was helping, and Dr. Shukla had added an antidepressant to his prescription to ward off the vague sense of dread and loss that sometimes settled in his chest.

No, Joe could tell he was getting worse because of Nicky. The way Nicky never let him make the same mistake twice. Joe had forgotten to take his medication one night, and ever since, Nicky made a ritual of bringing it to him with a glass of water after they brushed their teeth. A few mornings ago, Nicky had seen Joe walk away from the coffee machine without turning it on, and ever since, there would be a freshly brewed pot of coffee on the table before Joe woke up.

It was as if by covering for Joe enough, Nicky could pretend this wasn’t happening at all. Joe frowned deeply at the thought.

“Hey,” Nicky said, coming to sit next to Joe. “What’s wrong, hayati? Would you rather stay in today than go to the beach? I won’t mind, you know.”

Joe shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s…” He furrowed his brow, then sighed in defeat. “Nevermind. Let’s just go to… the place. What you said.”

“The beach?”

“Mhm. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Alright. I’ll get us a bag.” Nicky kissed Joe’s forehead gently and got up to leave.

“Nicky, wait.”

“Yes, love?”

“Is it- Am I getting a lot worse, do you think?” Joe blurted.

Nicky frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s just- You didn’t let me pay rent this month. Usually you remind me, but you did it yourself last week, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I don’t want to make things any harder for you than they already are. Let me be there for you in these little ways, ya qalbi.”

“You are. You’re always there for me. But you’re doing so much now, too much, and I feel like I’m not pulling my weight anymore. I don’t want to become a- a…”

“A burden?”

Joe was already shaking his head, having clocked the disappointment in Nicky’s eyes. “No! No, Nicky, that’s not what I-”

“Joe. I think we should move back to Malta.”

Joe paused, a little taken aback. “Back to Malta? Like, for good?”

“For good.”

“We’ll be far away from Nile and Booker, though.”

“They can come visit whenever they want. They’re still immortal, Joe. We’re not. I want to spend the time we have left in the place I married you one thousand years ago.”

Joe stood up and looped his arms around Nicky’s neck. He grinned as Nicky’s arms circled his waist, pulling him closer. “And you say I’m an incurable romantic.”

Nicky laughed. “So you’re okay with that, then?” he asked, hopeful eyes searching Joe’s.

“More than okay. I can’t wait, amore.”

***

Dinner with Nile was a lovely time, as always.

“How is Booker doing, sorellina?” Nicky asked as he dished second helpings of lasagne onto everyone’s plates.

“Fine,” Nile said with her mouth full. “His therapy group is taking a field trip to the Met tonight, so he couldn’t come. But he said to bring him back some food.”

Joe laughed, turning to Nicky with delight. “Sir, be sure to pack this young lady your restaurant’s finest lasagne, to-go.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “If Booker wants food, he can come get some himself,” he grumbled, nevertheless grabbing a clean tupperware from the counter. “It’s been ages since he’s shown his face around here.”

“He wants to come all the time, I promise,” Nile reassured him. “It’s just so busy now, between jobs and therapy-”

“I keep telling Nicky we can still work the jobs,” Joe cut in. “Just because we’re mortal doesn’t mean we can’t help with intel and stuff. Or Nicky can, at least.”

“And I keep telling you it’s not necessary,” Nile countered, gentle but firm. “It’s important that you two spend this time with each other. And anyway, Booker and I are managing just fine.”

“It can’t be easy, though.” Nicky popped open a bottle of wine. “Do you mind non-alcoholic, Nile? If so, I can pull up another-”

“No, no, non-alcoholic is great. And to tell you the truth, we are taking on less now. Choosing our battles more carefully. But the ones we choose, we’re fighting them better, I think.”

Joe sat back, smiling fondly. “Good. Good. I think we’ve all been prioritizing doing a better job of living. But the offer always stands, Nile. If you two ever need some extra hands, we’re here.”

Over lasagne and wine, the conversation ebbed and flowed late into the night. It was nearly 2AM when Joe stood up, yawning.

“Bed, habibi?” Nicky asked.

“Hmm. I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Let me get you your medicine. Nile, would you mind moving the dishes to the sink? I’ll be back in a minute to wash them.”

Nile stood up, piling the dishes together. Joe and Nicky walked towards the bedroom.

As Joe settled into bed, Nicky puttered around to arrange his pills and a glass of water.

“Nicky, we forgot to tell Nile about the plan. That we’re going to move back to, uh…” Joe’s eyes widened in mild horror as he struggled to remember. “Malta! Malta. We’re moving back to Malta.”

Nicky walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He lovingly cupped Joe’s face, leaning in to rest their foreheads together.

“I’ll tell her. Here. You take this medicine and rest. I should go-”

“Do you want to see what I drew at the beach?” Joe cut in. He didn’t want Nicky to leave just yet.

“Ya amar, of course I do. Where is your sketchbook, still in the bag? I’ll get it.”

Nicky handed him the book, and Joe flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.

“It would have been better if I had colors, but…”

He held out the book to Nicky, who promptly forgot how to breathe. Done in nothing but ordinary pencil graphite was his own profile, set against the background of a stunning black and white sunset. The fading rays of light gleamed on the ocean’s surface, and the waves looked, magically, like they could move.

“Do you like it?” Joe asked. Nicky realized he’d been staring in silence. He set the book on the nightstand and wrapped a hand behind Joe’s head, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love it,” he said, kissing him again. “I love you. It’s beautiful. Everything you make is beautiful, but this one especially so. And you’re beautiful.”

Joe giggled beneath the onslaught of kisses and praise. “You’re a sap. Now go, Nile is waiting for you.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“Come back soon.”

Nicky grinned. “It’s almost 3AM. I won’t be long; Nile is probably exhausted, too.”

“Tell her to stay the night,” Joe mumbled, already half asleep. “Too late to drive.”

“I’ll tell her, love. Sleep well.”

“Tell me what?” Nile asked as Nicky returned to the living room.

“To stay the night, it’s late.” He looked towards the kitchen. “Where are the dishes?”

“I washed them, they’re on the drying rack.”

“Sorellina! You are a guest!”

“I’m family. I can help with the dishes,” Nile argued, rolling her eyes.

Nicky smiled, settling down next to her on the couch. Nile shifted, curling up close to his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“How are you doing?” she asked after a beat.

“Fine, Joe’s been-”

“I said you, Nicky.”

Nicky hesitated. “I’m alright, I think. Life is not harder now, not really. It’s nice to spend our days enjoying each other’s company, without having to worry about jobs and stuff. But…”

“But?”

“I can’t shake this sense of… loss? Our every interaction is tinged with it. He is the one diagnosed, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who’s losing my sense of reality. I feel untethered.” Nicky broke off with a dry chuckle. “He gets upset if I’m too sad around him, so I try not to show it.”

“Oh.”

“Is it terribly greedy of me, Nile?”

“What?”

“That we’ve had over a thousand years together, more than anyone else in human history, and all I can think of is that it’s not enough. That I’m not ready. That I want more.”

“Love always wants more, Nicky. And no one is ever ready, no matter how much or how little time we have. Like, Andy and Quynh, right? You knew them for centuries, I knew them for a few years. But neither of us were ready to lose them.”

“I can’t do that again, Nile,” Nicky said wearily, feeling the full weight of his years. “I can’t mourn anyone else. I can’t mourn Joe.”

“You already are.”

Nicky’s eyes snapped to hers. “Wha- what do you mean by that? He said something like that, too.”

“You’re mourning the parts of him he’s already forgotten. You’re mourning the Joe who remembered his sisters’ names. The Joe who could differentiate San Paolo ‘34 from Berlin ‘27. The Joe who-”

“Stop.” Nicky squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s still here. My Joe is still here.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Nile said. “Think about the Joe you fell in love with outside of Jerusalem, Nicky. Now think of Joe sleeping inside. Everything has changed, but you still love him. What was it you fell in love with, the one thing that’s remained constant? His body? His mind?”

“His soul.”

“And can Alzheimer’s touch that? Can death?”

Nicky sniffled. He kissed the top of Nile’s head. “You’re far too wise for your age, you know.”

“I’ve had practice,” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Will you stay the night?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Nile ended up finding out about Malta the next morning, when Joe mentioned moving plans to Nicky over breakfast.

“You didn’t tell her last night, tesoro?”

“I meant to. But I guess we were all really tired.”

“I think it’s a great idea. When are you two planning to move?” Nile asked.

“As soon as possible. Joe and I were looking at flights for this weekend.”

Nile nodded. “Booker and I can help you pack. How’s tonight?”

“Fine, if a bit early. We don’t have that much stuff,” Joe said between sips of coffee. “At least not here. There are some things in the safehouses…”

“Sure. You and Nicky make a list whenever you’re free, and I’ll make a few trips with Booker and ship everything to the Malta address.”

“You’re an angel, sorellina,” Nicky said.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Joe looked back and forth between them, trying to memorize this moment. Nicolò di Genova is reading the paper, he thought. Nile Freeman is eating toast. Nile is married to Sebastien Le Livre, whom we call Booker. Booker isn’t here because he was- he had-

“Did Booker send you any pictures from the Met?” Nicky asked Nile.

Ah. He’d gone to the Met with his therapy group.

Nile shook her head. “A few cute ones they took outside, but I think the exhibit they went to see didn’t allow photography. He’ll probably have some brochure pictures to talk our ears off about later, though.” She smiled fondly. “It’s our turn to bring something over for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Absolutely not,” Nicky argued. “I love cooking for you guys. Let me make dinner. You’ll be stuck with your own cooking once we leave for Malta, anyway.”

Nile gasped in mock offense. “Well, someone has an inflated sense of their own abilities.”

“Habibi, listen, she’s disparaging my cooking,” Nicky complained.

“You insulted her first, my love. If you can dish it, you’d better take it.”

Nile laughed at the look of utter betrayal on Nicky’s face as she walked her empty plate to the sink.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said. “I’ll be back with Booker around 7. And fine, looks like dinner’s on you, Nicky.”

“I’m making poisoned mushroom risotto.”

“Suit yourself, I’m not the one who’s mortal.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nicky muttered around a grin as Nile and Joe high-fived. “See you later, Nile.”

***

Midnights were Nicky’s favorite part of Malta. The sky hung heavy like a black velvet blanket, and the sparkle of the stars reminded him of Joe’s eyes.

In the months since they’d arrived, Joe’s health had taken an undeniable turn for the worse. They’d talked to Dr. Shukla and doubled his dose of Razelon. Soon after, they’d doubled it again. But the disease progressed with a vengeance of lifetimes, as if it was trying to recompense Joe’s immortality by cutting his mortal life short.

Nowadays, Nicky almost never left Joe’s side, from waking him up in the morning, to bathing him, to feeding him, to taking him on long walks to visit their favorite places.

And truly, there was nowhere he’d rather be. But Nicky was wracked with guilt over the terrifying intensity with which he missed Joe. He found himself clinging fervently to Joe’s few and far-between moments of lucidity, dreading the day when Joe would look at him and no longer remember his name.

A tear startled Nicky as it slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, leaning over the balcony railing and breathing in the sleeping city.

“Nicky?”

Nicky whirled around. “Joe? You’re not asleep?”

“I woke up. I- I missed you.”

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d wake up. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

As they settled back under the covers together, Joe reached for Nicky’s hand and squeezed gently.

“What is it, hayati?”

“Nicky, I need to tell you something.”

Nicky turned to face him. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

There was a tense pause. Then-

“Do you know how much I look forward to this, Joe? These brief minutes when you’re present, fully alert and oriented? Tell me, have I waited for this moment only to hear you say those words?”

“I just- I want you to know that you can leave. This is only going to get worse, Nicky. You didn’t sign up to change my diapers.”

“I didn’t sign up for immortality, either. But I embraced over a thousand years of it, Joe. Because I was in it with you.”

Joe rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

Nicky groaned, propping himself up on an elbow. “Listen here, you idiot. I know I can leave. I could’ve left when you offered me your hand outside of Jerusalem. I could’ve left when we had our first fight. I could’ve left when we lost Quynh. I could’ve left after WWII, when we became so depressed that we could hardly stand the sight of each other.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you, Joe. I don’t ever want to leave you.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”

“And if I say I do want you to?”

“I’d tell you not to be a martyr.” Nicky sighed in frustration. “What would you do if it were me, Joe? Would you walk away?”

Joe’s breath hitched. He immediately shook his head.

“Why?” Nicky barrelled on. “Because of some twisted sense of morality? Because of some obligation-”

“Because I love you, amore. I would suffer a hundred deaths to spend just one hour more in your arms.”

Nicky slowly lay back down. He cupped Joe’s tear-stained cheek, tenderly guiding their lips together in a warm kiss.

“See? Can we drop this, now?”

Joe nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, ya qalbi.”

They drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, exchanging quiet kisses and hums of contentment. The next morning, Nicky realized he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It was their wedding anniversary. Their original wedding anniversary, the approximate date they’d gotten married in Malta over a thousand years ago.

Nicky had meant to be absolutely insufferable about it, to go on and on about it from at least three days prior. That way, Joe would remember. He wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of forgetting, or the reality that his dementia no longer afforded him keeping track of the date.

Instead, Nicky had all but forgotten as well, only to be jarringly reminded by the date flashing on his phone.

He cursed as he fiddled with the coffee machine, analyzing his options. First option, he could simply remind Joe that today was their anniversary. Slip it into casual conversation or something.

But then he imagined Joe’s eyes going wide with shock and sadness as it sunk in that this is where they were at, now. He imagined Joe apologizing profusely for not planning anything special for Nicky. He imagined the guilt that any further attempts to celebrate would be tinged with, and that just wouldn’t do.

Second option, Nicky decided. He would simply not say anything. They’d treat this just like any other day, and what Joe didn’t remember wouldn’t hurt him. Something ugly twisted in Nicky’s gut at the thought that this could be their last anniversary together, but he stubbornly shoved it down. He could do this for Joe.

“Nicky?” Joe’s voice echoed down the hall. Nicky quickly switched on the coffee machine and returned to their bedroom.

“You’re awake already, love. Did you sleep well?”

Joe nodded, looking a little dazed. Slowly, his eyes focused on Nicky. He smiled. “Can we go brush my teeth? I want to kiss you.”

Nicky laughed, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “How about a kiss first, beautiful?”

Joe’s smile went soft, his gaze drifting languidly to Nicky’s lips. “Okay.”

Nicky reached for Joe’s hand as they kissed, threading their fingers together. Joe made a small noise of happiness, draping his other arm over Nicky’s shoulder and pressing closer.

This is enough, Nicky realized with startling clarity. This is more than enough for celebrating today. If he’s happy, I’m happy.

***

Awareness was strange for Joe, these days. Dr. Shukla had told him that no two people experience Alzheimer’s the same way; it was better to observe what happens than to expect a specific process.

These days, life often felt like working on the corner of a painting, some zoomed-in fragment for his mind to get lost in. He would zone out and zone back in, switching between his immediate reality and some dark, floaty place deep inside his consciousness. Any concept of the “bigger picture” seemed uncannily absent.

It would be terrifying, he knew, if not for Nicky. My husband, Joe thought fondly. That, at least, he had not forgotten yet.

Joe’s body still remembered perfectly well what his mind could no longer articulate. Nicky’s hand in his hand, Nicky’s lips on his lips. The instinctive way he’d reach out for comfort and find Nicky there, calm eyes and steady arms and gentle smile.

“Joe?”

With tremendous effort, Joe pulled himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on the voice. “Hmm?”

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t strain yourself.” Nicky rested a hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he immediately relaxed. “I’m making pastizzi. You remember pastizzi?”

Joe furrowed his brow. He doubted the word alone would have meant anything to him, but combined with the savory smell wafting from the kitchen, a fuzzy memory clicked into place.

“Favorite.”

Nicky chuckled softly. “That’s right. It’s your favorite.”

“Special. It’s for special days. Is today something special?”

Nicky startled like a deer in headlights. “Uh, wha- Yes! Of course it is.” He leaned down to kiss Joe’s curls. “Every day with you is so, so special, my love. It goes without saying, does it not?”

Joe grinned guilelessly, taking Nicky’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “Is Andromache coming?”

“Andromache is not here, sweetheart.” Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe, swaying gently from side to side. “It’s just us, for now.”

“That sounds nice, too.”

“What do you want to do after breakfast today?”

“Draw. I want to draw you. But can we take a nap first?”

“Of course.” Nicky unwound his arms from Joe and walked into the kitchen. “You got up too early today, habibi. I told you, you should rest more. You’ll be tired all day, otherwise.”

“I only like to sleep with you, tesoro.”

Nicky barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Here, let’s eat. Then we’ll nap together.”

Joe enjoyed breakfast, taking comfort in the familiar, grounding taste of Nicky’s homemade pastizzi. And he definitely enjoyed falling asleep in his husband’s arms, head pillowed on Nicky’s chest, bathed in the late morning sunlight.

When Joe woke up, it was in one of those increasingly rare and precious moments of clarity. Nicky lay beside him, still fast asleep. Joe stared unabashedly, marveling at how Nicky managed to look even more soft and peaceful than usual in his sleep. He reached for his sketchbook and began drawing.

As the hours passed, portraits turned into poetry, and poetry into letters. Joe wondered, for a moment, if he should wake Nicky up for lunch, but he was loath to disrupt the little rest that Nicky managed to get these days.

Instead, Joe sat quietly by his side, taking advantage of his own lucidity to write a letter to Nile and Booker. He vaguely recalled Nicky mentioning that they would visit at some point, and he wanted to make sure he could convey what he wanted to say to them.

Just as Joe was wrapping up, Nicky stirred beside him.

“Joe?” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Sono qui.”

Nicky glanced at the bedside clock. He scrambled to sit up, gently taking Joe’s face in his hands.

“Hayati, why didn’t you wake me? It’s three in the afternoon! Oh my love, aren’t you hungry? Did you drink water today?”

Joe smiled, kissing Nicky softly. “I went and drank water. I accidentally dropped a glass, though-”

“That’s alright.”

“-and don’t worry, I’m not hungry yet. Breakfast was very filling. You looked so relaxed sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you for no reason.”

“I’m so sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to crash like that. How long have you been up?”

“Since noon. But please, amore, don’t apologize. You deserve to rest.” Nicky opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Joe pushed on. “Do you want to see what I drew? And I wrote you a poem, can I read it to you?”

Nicky’s expression softened, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. “Absolutely, Joe. Show me everything you’ve sketched and written. Then we can go out for a late lunch, okay?”

To Joe’s immense satisfaction, the mental fog largely stayed away for the rest of the day. There were moments, of course, when all he could do was hold Nicky’s hand and follow his footsteps, mind eerily blank except for the buzz of physical sensation right beneath the surface.

But for the most part, Joe was present. He recognized by name the café they stopped by for lunch and the restaurant they went to for dinner. In between, when they visited il-Moskea, Joe was able to pray properly for the first time in weeks. Nicky had prayed alongside him, and as Joe listened to the quiet recitation of Quran verses from his lips, peace had seemed so easy. So reachable.

“Lean forward, hayati,” Nicky murmured. The moment they’d come home, Nicky had started a hot bath for Joe. Joe complied, leaning forward until the lightly scented bubbles tickled his beard. “Feels good?” Nicky asked, swiping a washcloth over his back.

“So good. Ti amo, Nicky.”

“Ti amo tanto. Now lean back, let’s rinse.”

“Did we- did we used to do this before?”

“What, bathing?” Nicky teased.

“Shut up. I mean, bathing each other. It feels familiar. An ancient ritual from way before I got sick.”

“Hmm.”

“But I can’t remember, Nicky. I visit the place in my heart where I stored those memories, and it’s empty. Like they’ve been stolen.”

Joe heard the distress creep into his tone, and he was sure Nicky could hear it, too. Sure enough, Nicky set the washcloth down and cupped Joe’s face.

“Hey, shhh. Just breathe, my love. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I feel like I keep hurting you when I forget important things about us. I don’t want to make you sad. But I can’t help it, Nicky, I don’t know-”

“Joe, ya amar, this isn’t your fault. You never make me sad, do you hear me? And it’s okay if you can’t remember. Getting to be here with you, in this moment, is so much more important to me than anything that came before.”

Joe lowered his eyes, unconvinced.

Nicky sighed. “Hey. The water is getting cold. Let me get your towel from the dryer, I’ll just be a moment.”

Seconds after Nicky left, his phone buzzed, sliding from the toilet lid to the floor. Joe frowned, extending a shaky arm out of the tub to put it back.

But as he picked up the phone, Joe caught sight of the date. June 18th. His frown deepened. June 18th, June 18th, June 18th…

Joe had no idea how he did it, but somehow, he managed to put two and two together. The pastizzi for breakfast. Their favorite restaurants. The trip to the mosque. The way Nicky’s hands had been impossibly gentler today, the way his eyes shined even softer with love.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s our anniversary?” Joe demanded as soon as Nicky set foot in the bathroom.

Nicky froze. “Joe. How in God’s name did you remember that?”

“I figured it out.”

Nicky set the freshly washed towel on the toilet lid and knelt by the tub. “Joe-”

“You were celebrating it without telling me.” Joe sniffled, mortified to feel tears pooling in his eyes. Of all the things dementia had taken from him, this had to be the worst. He hadn’t even bought Nicky a present.

“Yusuf, please. Please let me explain?” Nicky begged, reaching into the tepid water to hold Joe’s hands.

Joe shook his head, feeling the tears slip loose. Nicky drew a shaky breath, leaning forward to kiss them away. He was crying, too, Joe realized with a start.

“Perdonami, my heart. Perdonami. I didn’t think you’d remember. I didn’t say anything because you would have been devastated that- that it’s gotten this bad. I couldn’t bear you blaming yourself for something so utterly out of your control.”

Joe didn’t reply.

“Joe, listen to me. It’s just a date on the calendar, my love.”

“I don’t want to forget you,” Joe whispered.

A sob caught in Nicky’s throat. He pulled off his shirt and stepped into the tub, wrapping Joe in his arms. Joe tucked his face into Nicky’s neck and cried like a baby.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Nicky croaked, rocking them back and forth. “Everything will be okay.”

It was late by the time they dried off and made it to bed, not bothering with clothes. Joe watched as Nicky put a second comforter at the foot of their bed, in case it got cold during the night. When they were finally snuggled together beneath the covers, Joe spoke.

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“If- when I forget you, will you forgive me?”

Nicky pulled him closer, inhaling deeply as he tangled a hand in Joe’s hair. “There will be nothing to forgive, hayati.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose-”

“I know, Yusuf. I know. You never need to explain yourself to me.”

“Nicolò, promise me that- promise me that you won’t forget. Please don’t forget me.” Joe muffled a whimper, pressing closer until he could feel Nicky’s heart beating against his chest.

There was a long silence. When Nicky spoke, his voice was the steadiest Joe had ever heard.

“My beloved, I promise you that I will not forget. Whether or not you remember, whether or not you can even tell I’m there, I will be at your side for as long as we have together. I will take care of you in every way I know how. And when there is nothing left to do, I will honor your memory until my dying breath. I promise.”

Joe couldn’t reply, couldn’t breathe, as he felt his eyes well up again. His husband rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back, and gradually, the moment of terror passed. Joe relaxed into the sensation, falling asleep to the rhythm of Nicky’s heart and the echo of his magnanimous words.

***

“He doesn’t speak much, now,” Nicky briefed Nile and Booker as he helped carry their overnight bags in. “You’ll have to introduce yourselves.”

Months had passed since their anniversary, and Nicky was adjusting to this new life right alongside Joe. Their dynamic had changed, but their love had not.

Joe no longer walked up behind Nicky and hugged him while he cooked. Nicky no longer woke up at 2AM to find Joe hunched over his sketchbook, struck by some untimely inspiration. They’d never had much need for words, but now, verbal conversation was even rarer.

Instead, they spoke the well-loved language of gentle touches, of midday naps wrapped in each other’s arms. A spontaneous kiss never failed to make Joe smile, and Joe’s smile was enough to make Nicky’s entire day. Their interactions fell back on a bedrock of trust one thousand years in the making. Of course there were bad days - days colored with grief and sickness and loneliness - but far more often, Nicky found his heart flooded with quiet gratitude.

“Hello, Joe,” Nile said, kneeling in front of Joe’s chair and taking his hand. “I’m Nile. It’s lovely to see you.”

Joe said nothing, but his lips curved up in a tentative smile. Booker came forward and knelt next to Nile.

“Hey, buddy. It’s Booker. Long time no see. I don’t know how much of this you understand, Joe, but I hope you know that we love you. So, so much.”

“Hmm,” Joe grunted softly. He turned his other palm over in his lap, as if in invitation. Booker wrapped his hands around Joe’s, eyes shining as he brought it to his lips with reverence.

“I think he knows, Booker,” Nicky smiled fondly. “Come on, I made rice. You two must be hungry from the long plane ride.”

It was later that night, after everyone had eaten and napped, that Nicky remembered about the letters. Joe sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, watching with interest as Nicky, Nile, and Booker played Snakes & Ladders on the coffee table.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Nicky exclaimed.

“What?” Nile asked.

“No, no, no - stop trying to distract us,” Booker said shrewdly. “You’re about to land on that snake and you know it. No cheating.”

Nile laughed. “He’s right. Take the fall, old man. You’re back to square five. Come on.”

Nicky scowled, sliding his piece all the way down the board. He’d been so close to winning.

From the couch, Joe snickered. Nile and Booker looked at him in surprise.

“He understands what’s going on?” Booker asked incredulously.

“Just enough to know when to laugh at me.” Nicky rolled his eyes, stopping to kiss Joe’s forehead as he walked away. A soft smile melted across Joe’s face, and he snuggled deeper into his blanket.

“I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but here we are,” Nile commented. “Joe, you’re a sap, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” Nicky countered as he returned with the envelopes. “Remind me again what you gave Booker for your last anniversary?”

“A five-page poem comparing our love to the heavens from five different religious traditions,” Booker bragged. “It was the best thing I’ve ever read.”

Nile blushed furiously. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Hey, what are those?”

Nicky held up the envelopes. “Joe wrote us letters a few months back. One is for you two, and the other one is for me. But he said I couldn’t open mine until I gave you guys yours.”

Nicky handed Nile one of the envelopes and slipped the other into the pocket of his hoodie. Joe watched with mild curiosity, clearly not recognizing the letters.

“Should we call it a night?” Booker asked. “It’s nearly 1AM.”

“Quitting while you’re in the lead, Book?” Nicky teased. “But no, I think that’s a great idea. Joe would normally have slept hours ago.”

“He doesn’t look tired,” Nile observed.

“That’s because he’s entertained. He loves when people visit.”

The four of them walked towards the bedrooms. Nile and Booker waved goodbye to Joe as Nicky guided him into their room, before continuing down the hallway to the guest room.

“Nicky’s set everything up for us,” Nile appreciated. “These sheets are so soft.”

“That man works too hard. I worry about him.” Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know, Nile, I feel like we should hang around here more. Help Nicky out, spend more time with Joe.”

Nile stepped out of her clothes and curled up under the covers. Booker followed suit.

“We could,” she agreed. “I would appreciate the change of pace. And of course, having the family together will be nice.”

“But you would get restless.”

“Me and you both, Book.” Nile turned to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I know, I know the point of immortality isn’t to fight all the time. But when we’re not fighting, I feel like we’re wasting this gift.”

“Yeah. I’ve had centuries longer to get used to immortality, and I still feel that way.”

“Maybe we could visit more often?”

“Hmm,” Booker smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Hey. Should we open Joe’s letter?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.” Booker propped himself up against the headboard, holding out an arm to Nile. She snuggled up next to him, carefully opening the envelope.

“Here we go.”

***

There were good days, and there were bad days. Nicky had spent centuries caring for the world, and now, he savored the years he’d been given to care for his world.

Nile and Booker visited more now, and Nicky sensed, deep down, that something had changed. Late-stage Alzheimer’s had not been easy on Joe - the darkness that came with cognitive decline was an extremely unpleasant experience for someone who preferred putting their emotions into words. And then, as Joe’s motor skills wore down, he’d found himself increasingly cut off from his art. Nicky had ached for him, helpless to provide much relief.

But these days, there was a calmness about Joe that hadn’t been there before. The anxiety gave way to an aura of peace, especially when Joe could see or hear Nicky nearby. Often, Nicky would stop whatever he was doing to just come sit with Joe, trying to absorb some of his serenity. It was like being in the presence of someone deep in meditation.

One night, Nicky returned to their bedroom after doing the dishes to find Joe sitting up against the headboard.

“Still awake, hayati?” He shook out the sheets as he undressed for bed, not expecting a response.

“Nicolò.”

Nicky froze. Surely he’d hallucinated that; it had been over a year since Joe was able to recognize him by name. He didn’t dare look up.

“Nicolò, my beloved,” Joe repeated, voice hoarse with disuse. Nicky closed his eyes, clamping down on a sob. He tossed the sheets aside and crawled into bed, reaching for Joe.

“What is it?” Nicky asked as he took Joe’s hands in his own, kissing his cold knuckles. “Tell me.”

“It’s time.”

“No,” Nicky shook his head, wrapping his arms around Joe. He was utterly unprepared for this. “No, no, please God, please, no…”

Nicky clung to Joe, sobbing unrestrainedly into his shoulder. This couldn’t be happening. This was madness. A nightmare, Nicky decided - a particularly torturous nightmare that he would soon wake up from. And Joe would be next to him, perfectly fine, their lives untouched by this ugly monster of a disease.

When he finally calmed down enough to pull back, Nicky found Joe watching him, eyes round with unshed tears. The moment of lucidity had passed, Nicky realized. All Joe could see now was his seemingly causeless distress.

Joe tightened his grip on Nicky’s arm minutely in a silent question, and Nicky almost wanted to laugh. Even now, Joe was still checking in with him.

“It’s nothing, love.” Nicky wiped his eyes quickly. “Let’s sleep, yeah? You must be tired.”

Nicky helped Joe lie down on his back before lying down next to him. He pulled Joe closer, gently kissing the shell of his ear.

“I love you,” Nicky murmured, the words feeling like too much and not enough. “I’m going to tell you a story tonight, okay?”

Joe grunted his assent, already half asleep. Nicky closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. He thought back to Joe’s letter, to the words he’d memorized the very night he read them.

When the time comes, amore mio, I ask that you hold me close. And speak to me, please. I want to hear everything - how we met in Jerusalem, our adventures with Andy and Quynh, all the bets you lost to Booker, the delight on Nile’s face when you let her use the paints you’d preserved from the 1500s. I want to hear about all the times we got married, and all the anniversaries we celebrated. Most of all, Nicky, I want to hear your voice. I want to move on from this world surrounded by you, your beautiful voice, your loving hands.

And in case I can’t tell you then, I love you. Deep down, I think I’ve always loved you, even before we made peace. And I know I will always love you, be it in this world or the next. Please never doubt this, my all. I love you so much.

Nicky struggled for a moment to regain control, overwhelmed at the memory. Then, lips touching Joe’s ear, he began to speak. He held Joe in his arms as he whispered their story into the silence of the night. Joe sighed deeply in his sleep, pliant in Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky had no idea how long he continued on - hours, at least. There was so much to say. He talked and talked until he fell asleep next to Joe, right where he belonged.

***

“Abort mission,” Nile hissed into the comms. “Code Red. Meet me at the checkpoint ASAP.”

Minutes later, Booker jogged up to the checkpoint. “What happened? Are you okay? I’d almost gotten through-” Booker stopped, noticing Nile’s tear-streaked face. His tone softened immediately. “Mon amour, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Nile sniffled. “Joe’s gone, Book. He’s gone.”

Booker staggered backwards like he’d been slapped. “Gone?! What the fuck do you mean, gone?”

Nile pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Voicemail.” She held out her phone.

Booker put the phone to his ear and listened. He heard Nicky’s voice, quiet and anguished, but felt oddly removed from the whole situation. What language was Nicky speaking? It sounded like Italian, so why wasn’t it making sense?

“Hey, Book? Talk to me, love. Hey.”

Nile’s voice, Booker thought. It sounded like she was talking to him through a very long cardboard tube. His vision swam. Everything seemed so distorted.

“Booker!”

The next thing he knew, Booker was blinking up at Nile from the ground, head half in her lap.

“Do not pass out on me,” Nile muttered through gritted teeth. “Get up, Book, please. I can’t do this. Not alone. Please.”

Booker felt an itch on his cheek, but when he reached up to scratch it, his hand came away wet with tears. Nicky’s words, tinny and wrecked with sorrow, floated back into his head.

It suddenly struck him that Nicky was an ocean away, alone with his grief. Booker pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to Nile.

“Come on. We have to go to Malta.”

They fought on the trip, during a two-hour layover in Spain. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, it was no surprise their tempers ran unusually short.

“What do you mean, let him be?” Nile assuredly did not yell. She was simply disagreeing loudly. “He’s lost his life partner of a thousand years, Book! He needs support - he needs family.”

“And what makes you think we can be that for him? What makes you think we can even start to fill the void left by Joe’s absence?!”

“It’s not about filling the damn void-”

“You don’t know what it’s like! When I lost my mortal wife, I felt like I’d lost everything! Even though I had Andy, and Joe, and Nicky, and- and you.”

“You were entitled to your grief, Book. So is Nicky. But I lost people too, so don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what it’s like. I’m immortal, too. I’ve lost my parents. It’s not just you.”

“No, that’s not- Listen! It took me centuries, centuries, to overcome that grief. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have done it if I had a choice. All I’m saying is… Nicky has a choice, Nile. He’s mortal.”

Nile’s eyes went wide. “So you’re saying we just- let him take his own life?!”

“I’m saying it’s not our decision to make! And it’s not… morally wrong or something if he chooses that. Look, chronic pain is real, Nile, whether it’s physical or emotional. Everyone who can has a right to opt out.”

“This isn’t the same thing as euthenasia, Book.”

“It’s not so different either, is it?”

There was a minute of silence as they stared daggers at each other across the terminal bench. Then Booker sighed.

“They’re closer than we could ever imagine, Nile. They’re one soul, two bodies. If he wants to go, we have to let him go.”

Nile sat down, running a hand down her face in devastation. “What about the letter?”

“What letter?”

“You know what letter. Joe’s letter. He asked us for one thing, Booker. One thing only. And that was that we don’t let Nicky die of a broken heart.”

“It doesn’t matter. Joe’s not here. Nicky is.”

“How could you dismiss his last wishes like that?”

“Nile, look at me. What do you think Joe wants above all else? What’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted?”

“For Nicky to be happy,” Nile whispered after a beat. “Love, can’t we at least try? Can’t we just… be there for him?”

“Of course,” Booker said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “Of course. But we cannot choose for him, amour. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Nile sniffled, not entirely convinced. “Okay. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m just really…” Booker waved a hand in the air, trying to find the words. “Broken. I feel broken. Like I’m not myself.”

“I understand. I feel like that, too.”

“Hey. We don’t board for another 20 minutes. Can I get you a coffee?”

Nile managed a tired half-smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

***

In the end, it took four days of sleeping on Nicky’s couch for them to convince Nicky to drink water. It was another two days before he could keep down any food.

On the ninth day, Nicky broke down in front of them for the first time, crying his heart out as Booker and Nile just held him, murmuring gentle nothings and waiting out the tears.

They decided, at length, to take the year off from missions. They stayed with Nicky in the large house, trying to make it feel less empty. The grief would hit each of them at different times, and when it did, the other two would be there, always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on.

Within a year, the depression was slowly starting to lift. None of them had quite moved on, but they were very deliberately trying to make peace with this new reality.

Nicky fell back on simple rituals. Across from his bed, where he could see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he pinned up one of Joe’s charcoal self-portraits. Nicky loved it for how raw and alive it was in its beauty; not simply an image of Joe, but one that still carried traces of his fingertips in the sweeping strokes, the perspective of his eyes in the lighting.

Every morning, Nicky would kiss the tips of his fingers and press them to the bottom of the portrait in benediction. Then, he would close his eyes, letting the love and sorrow flow freely in his chest for a few minutes.

“I will see you again, hayati,” he would say. “Wait for me by the gates of Heaven, just as you did by the gates of Jerusalem. I will be with you again soon.”

It was a ritual that Nile and Booker supported wholeheartedly.

“Tell Joe to say hi to Andy for me,” Booker would add.

“Tell Joe I miss him. No one else will geek out with me over the Impressionist Movement,” Nile would grumble.

Sometimes, Nicky thought, it was like Joe was simply away on a mission. Like he would walk back through the door at any moment.

“Maybe he never left,” Nile mused once when Nicky voiced this thought. The three of them were sitting on the veranda, sipping hot tea and watching people mull about on the street.

Nicky frowned. “I want his soul to be at peace, Nile. Not wandering around like a ghost.”

“You know what they say. Not all who wander are lost.”

“I do feel like he’s here, sometimes,” Nicky confessed. “People say that your loved ones never truly leave you, that they stay alive in your heart, but I always figured it was a metaphor. I never imagined it could feel so real.”

“Can I ask you something, Nicky?” Booker’s voice shook slightly with hesitation.

“Hmm, go ahead.”

“How- how did you survive?”

Nicky rubbed his eyes. “Joe would never forgive me if I didn’t. That was the main reason. But I also believe that this is my penance.”

“For what?”

“For how we met. For what I did to him, to his people, his family. All this pain - being without him, mourning him - this is what finally cleanses me of my actions. It hurts, every day it hurts, but I can’t bring myself to run from it.” He stared down into his tea for a long moment. “I will continue on until it is my time, because it’s what my Joe would have wanted.”

***

Three years after Joe’s passing, Nicky finally gathered the courage to sort through his things. As he carried a stack of notebooks from the closet to the bed, one slipped to the ground and fell open.

Nicky set the others down and picked it up, running his fingertips over the page. It was a poem, written in Joe’s familiar cursive.

Empires rise and fall In a blink of God’s eye, The laws of nature bend As what’s mortal becomes divine. And the realization dawns When I see I’m left behind, Humankind’s greatest inheritance Is losing something to time.

As Nicky contemplated this, his cell phone blared to life on the nightstand. He reached for it distractedly.

“Hello?”

“Nicky,” Nile gasped on the other end.

“Nile? Dio, isn’t it like 3AM there?”

“Yeah, I woke up. How fast can you get to Medina?”

“Uh… I could book a flight for a few hours out?”

“Great, do that. Booker and I are already on the way to the airport.”

“Wha- Nile, slow down. What’s going on?”

There was a brief pause. Then-

“We had this dream. There’s a new one.”

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

Text

Beach Waves and Happiness

a little self-indulgent something i was hoarding in my documents and decided to share. maybe or maybe not bc i felt bad bc of all the angst i was posting. i hope you all enjoy it :)

A/N: In my mind, I imagine that Bakugo and his spouse would certainly have a bumpy marriage. I headcanon that his spouse is as headstrong as he is, if not stronger. They need to be in order to handle all that is Bakugo Katsuki lmao. But they grow with each day and are their strongest together. He’s also matured by then, so it’ll always work out in the end.

A little context. You and Katsuki have been married for a couple of years and have kids. Koji and Eva. Twins. Not much else to say but enjoy this sweet, sugary, domestic fic.

Warnings: Mentions of intimacy, cursing

Beach Waves and Happiness (Bakugo X Reader)

When the twins were old enough to walk and (mostly) potty-trained, that’s when you started taking trips. You were so excited to spend time as a family apart from dinner and bath time. Katsuki was excited to see you in a swimsuit again.

And family time as well!

Their first international trip was to Hawaii. Your husband had been a couple times and thought it would be a good and family-friendly vacation spot. You grew up on the beach so being on the island was perfect for you. Katsuki saw how you flourished under the sun, with the salty wind tousling your braids and the white sand on your feet. As you took your children to the waves, smiling like the sun as they squealed from the water, he felt heart swell with pride.

He never wanted to take for granted what he had been given.

“It tickles!” Eva, the eldest twin, giggled.

Koji was a bit hesitant to touch the water but gained confidence when he felt his sister grab his hand. When the waves began to roll in, they screamed with excitement and ran the other way. They continued their game of chase whiles their mother watched them with a smile.

Feeling eyes on yourself, you caught your husband’s adoring gaze and goofily posed. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” you joked.

And moment ruined. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he walked by your side. Katsuki placed his hand on your waist, inviting you to lean on his shoulder. You two stood there for a moment, letting the sound of your children’s laughter and waves settle between them.

“Don’t you wish we could just stay here forever?” you suddenly said.

“All the time, but money doesn’t grow on trees. You actually have to work for stuff.”

“Imagine that.” You raised your head catching Katsuki’s eyes. He hummed for your thoughts. “Nothing. Just kind of taking in everything. I feel at peace. More than I have in a long time.”

It was meant to be happy words, but it made the blonde hero deflate just a bit. A thought had been gnawing at his heart for a while and he found he could no longer hold in his question.

“[Y/N], are you happy?”

That got you to pause. You turned to hold his waist with your arms. “The short answer is yes, but what do you mean?” you said, eyeing how contemplative he looked.

Katsuki felt himself absent-mindedly play with your hair as he stared where the sand met the waves. He was never good with his words but damn it. He needed to know. Even if it could hurt him.

“It’s just…I know being with me isn’t the easiest.”

“Katsuki, if this is about our fight, I told you—”

“No. I mean yes, but not entirely. Let me just get this out.” You sighed but nodded. “When I asked you to move in with me, I half expected you to say no. But you did. And I know being thousands of miles away from your friends and family is shitty. Especially in Japan where you might feel alone. I mean, I know you made friends with Deku, Cheeks, Pinky, and all those idiots but it’s different. It’s not your home. But you never complain. You always adjust. Even after we got married and had children, and you felt like you were suffocating under all the responsibility when I was being a shit ass husband and father, you never said anything until you were at your breaking point.”

It pained him to remember how he didn’t know you were going through postpartum depression until it got so bad, he’d wake up to find you sobbing in the living room by yourself. Or when your mother called him five months into the marriage and nearly cussed him dead for her daughter feeling like she couldn’t even tell him she was going through a hard time. Sternly reminding him that you dropped everything to move to Japan for his career. That’s when she accidentally slipped that you were pregnant.

He was still young at the time and in the midst of a stressful time in his career. When he confronted you about it, he admitted he did more yelling than he should have. You took your ring off and he felt his heartbreak for the first time. You said you’d stay at a hotel, but he begged you to stay in the house and he left for his parent’s house. It was a tough week. One of the toughest weeks in your relationship. However, you preserved. As always.

Although, Katsuki still saw how exhausted you were. Even when he gave more than 100%, you were still tired, and he had a feeling it wasn’t physical exhaustion.

Your husband tucked a braid behind your ear and the look he gave you made your chest pinch. “I just don’t want you to get to your breaking point with me and before I can help it, lose you and the twins,” he said, voice barely above the sound of the sea.

There was only a small amount of times you’d see him so open about his feelings. Sometimes you’d admit you didn’t handle it well. Thus, the fights. You and your husband weren’t good at expressing your emotions properly and learning to do so was a journey. However, you always appreciated his willingness to grow—whether it was before or after the matter.

“Baby,” you cooed, softly kissing the corner of his lips. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’d have to be the coldest, most heartless, bitch on the planet to keep you away from Eva and Koji. No matter what happens to us, you’re still their father. A good one at that, and I would never separate you three. Besides, my mom and yours would hang me before I could.”

He chuckled. He knew you were only half-joking. Your parents were alike in more ways than one. It was kind of scary, but good for family gatherings.

“And, if I’m going to be honest, it was really hard at first. Sometimes, I thought I made the wrong decision, but then you’d come home, and we’d spend hours talking and every day I was reminded why I did it. The way your eyes would light up every time you’d talk about work made my heart flutter. Then you’d turn around, look at me, and tell me how being at your side made everything better. When I couldn’t tell you how useless I felt, you’d just know and make me feel on top of the world. When I’m hard on myself, you’re there to bully the insecurities out. I see the little things you do like buy more tampons and pads, without me having to ask, when I run low, wash the dishes as soon as you come home because you know I hate doing them, or turn the fan off in the middle of the night when I shiver, even when you’re hot.

We butt heads. We fight for sure. And we kind of suck ass at dealing with our feelings. But not for one moment did I stop loving you any less. Maybe I didn’t like you all the time,” she snickered and Katsuki snorted. “But I loved you. I love you. And I know you love me all the same.”

Katsuki didn’t know why he had been blessed, especially since he wasn’t the best person in his past. However, he never questioned it. He just cherished.

With no other way to properly express his gratitude, he pulled you closer and he pressed a heart-stopping kiss to your lips. You moaned, gripping his bicep, as he tilted your head, one hand under your chin and the other on the small of your back. Katsuki pulled back, your bottom lip between his teeth, to gaze at you in a way that warmed your body.

“Till death do us part, huh?” he smiled.

“You’re kinda stuck with me even after that.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Who knew you could be so corny?” you chuckled.

A hand came down on your ass and you gasped, laughing at his antics. “Don’t ruin the moment, dumbass.”

You continued your kissing, smirking between them. “You’re lucky you have a big dic—”

A tug at your skirt brought you two out of your…conversation.

It was Koji.

“Momma! We build castle!” he cheerfully smiled. Then he dropped his smile in 0.3 seconds and frowned at his father. “N’ you! Daddy no eat momma. We talk about dis.”

You snickered behind your hands as Katsuki’s eye twitched. Your son was at the age where he was forming an Oedipus complex. He and Katsuki had a thirty-minute conversation about him trying to “eat you” and “killing you” at night. It was endearing for you and annoying for him.

“Fine, you little brat. We’re watching your dumb castle,” he grumbled.

“You dumb!” Eva retaliated for her brother. Koji hmphed in agreement before running back to his sister.

You were openly cracking up and Katsuki was steaming.

“I’m glad you find this funny, jerk,” he mumbled.

“Hilarious actually.”

There was a moment of comforting silence.

“What was that about my big—”

“Koji! Your daddy’s tryna kill me again!”

“What the—? No I’m not!”

“DADDY!”

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #mha scenarios #mha fanfiction #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #katsuki x black!reader #mha domestic #katsuki domestic #he's domestic af #mha children #one-shot

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brianc521 · 5 years

Text

Overheard

Marriage.

They always say the first year is the hardest.

There is a lot of compromising, and learning new things about the other that you might not like very much.

Maybe your wife leaves her wet towel on the bed. Or your husband just kicks his shoes off wherever he is.

In Shawn and Y/n’s case? Things went much deeper than laundry and clutter.

Shawn was on tour for 9 months of their first year. He’s just recently returned home.

Now the long distance thing, him constantly on the move, time zones interfering with facetime dates, it’s nothing new to these newlyweds.

They’ve been together for 4 years now, they’ve survived 2 world tours.

It’s just, when Shawn returned home this time, something was off. For the first few days it was constant; ‘I love you’s and heaps of cuddles. To be truthful, they never really left the bedroom until his third official day when they really needed to get food.

But now it’s been almost 3 weeks since he’s come home, and it’s been 2 weeks of constant fighting. It’s almost become unbearable for them to be in the same room as each other.

With brave faces on they went to Karen and Manny’s for Sunday family dinner. But the tension is high, you could practically cut it with a knife. Shawn didn’t dish up Y/n’s plate, she didn’t offer to get him a drink when she went to get hers, they aren’t all over each other like normal, and what really caught his parents attention is the fact that he hasn’t told her that he loves her since he arrived.

Shawn is a very affectionate person, always has been, always will be. With his job, it takes him away from those he loves most, so when he is around them he makes sure they know that he absolutely adores them. Y/n is the one he tells the most.

It’s very unusual to go longer than an hour with Shawn not telling her that he loves her.

Karen gave her Mom code to Manny, letting him know he’s in charge of speaking to Shawn while she sought out Y/n.

While she helped her in the kitchen, finishing up the dinner dishes Y/n let a shaky breath slip and Karen was on her in a hot minute.

“Let’s go talk.”

“About?”

Karen gave her the Mom look and Y/n sighed, nodding as she reached for her coffee cup.

“Let’s head out to the back porch.”

“Shawn,” Manny spoke up, leaning against the door frame of the old playroom Shawn and Aaliyah shared. “Let’s have a quick chat.”

“About?” Shawn inquired, watching his Dad open the balcony door and step out.

“Just come talk to me.”

Shawn sighed, hanging his head and groaning as he followed his Dad outside.

21, married, and living on his own and he was still getting in trouble with his Dad.

Manny’s just about to take a deep breath to start this conversation when he hears Y/n’s voice.

“What’d you wanna talk about?”

“Oh Honey,” Karen coos.

Shawn’s brows furrow and at the same time both boys lean over the balcony rail to see Y/n and Karen leaning against the porch fence. Karen is rubbing Y/n’s shoulder as she bury’s her face in her hands.

“It’s been so rough since he got home.” She cries. “I don’t know how to fix it. I really don’t know what’s wrong, or what I did to make him so upset with me.”

Shawn’s breath catches in his throat, training his ears to listen intently.

“What do you mean?” Karen asks.

“I don’t know what happened? I mean I’m utterly in love with him. Nothing changed for me. He got home and we were really good for like a week and then everything, I don’t know, everything just shifted.”

“Shifted how?”

“He stopped coming to bed with me at night, and then he stopped coming to bed at all. I’ve woken up and found him asleep on his office couch,” A strained cry choking it’s way through her throat, “He’s even gone as far as the guest room.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” Shawn mutters.

“He won’t talk to me anymore, we only scream at each other. It’s like we’re roommates and not husband and wife.”

Manny’s shaking his head, looking at his son with a touch of disappointment in his eyes.

Shawn starts to crumble, he can’t believe he’s ever made her feel this way. He brings his left hand to his forehead, rubbing away at the stress. The cold of his ring shocking his skin.

“Have you talked to him about it?” Karen ponders.

“No, she hasn’t.” Shawn answers to himself.

“I try to everyday,” She looks over to her mother-in-law. “But I chicken out every time because I’m so scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That he’s gonna leave me.” She sobs, breaking Shawn’s heart completely at the sound. “I’m scared that I don’t make him happy anymore. That I’m not enough for him. I warned him that I thought this was gonna happen. That he was going to wake up one morning and realize that he settled for me. That he wasn’t gonna want to do this life anymore, that he was going to want so much more.”

“You are more than enough.” Karen tells her sternly, hates to hear her daughter-in-law speak of herself in such a way.

“Really I’m not Karen.” She shrugs.

“Yes you are!” Shawn tugs at his curls.

“I can’t go on tour with him, or travel at all with him like he wants me to.” She starts explaining the reason why she feels the way she does, and Shawn’s head lolls back because he’s never listened to her reasons. “And I never feel like my feedback is enough when he asks for it. He’ll have me listen to something, and I’ll tell him what I think but all I can hear in the back of my head is that I don’t know the first thing when it comes to creating music, so how the hell am I supposed to help him? He asks my opinion, I give it, and he does the exact opposite of what I’ve just said, so what’s the point in trying?”

“I want your feedback! That’s why I ask! If you don’t like it then it’s not the right fit for me!” Shawn hisses.

“And have you seen him? Like Karen to do you know that you birthed a Greek god?”

Karen snorts, shaking her head a little.

“Compared to me? The poor ratty peasant he picked up on the side of the street?”

“Hey,” Karen says.

Shawn turns around, whipping the balcony door open and stomping down the stairs, grumbling the whole way about how you always say stuff like that and it drives him insane.

He just about rips the back porch door off it’s hinges when he opens it.

Y/n and Karen jump, turning to look at the fuming Shawn coming their way.

“Call yourself the ‘poor ratty peasant’ one more time.” He growls. “I dare you.”

“Shawn,” She sighs, realizing he’s heard everything she’s had to say.

“You are not,” He shakes his head, trying to calm down and gather his thoughts. “You are not just someone I’ve picked up on the side of the street. You are the angel that was sent in my direction to show what it’s like to want to live for something. You’re the calm to my chaos, and the chaos to my calm.”

Karen excuses herself back inside where she meets Manny in the kitchen.

“Shawn,”

“No!” He says, stopping her from interrupting him. “We’ve got things to work on, I know that. We both do. I’m sorry that I’m not that easy to live with, I’m sorry I’m not easy to be married to. But if I ever hear you say that you’re afraid that I’m gonna leave you again I think my heart will physically break in half. I can’t believe that I got us into a place where you were afraid to speak your feelings because you thought I would leave you.”

“Shawn, you’re, what? Not easy to be married to? Marrying you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, because it was like finding my missing puzzle piece.”

“The night I fell asleep in my office? I honestly fell asleep in my office, I didn’t mean to. You went to bed, I kissed you goodnight when you came to tell me, I told you I’d be in shortly, you were wearing my favorite Eddie Vedder shirt, your hair was in a messy bun and you hadn’t taken your make up off. I remember thinking that you’d probably fall asleep with it on and that I should find your wipes so I could take it off for you.”

She gasps as he recalls the night, “You remember?”

“Of course I do, looking at you in my shirt, with your hair and mess and face sleep swollen I remembered why I married you, and I fell in love all over again.” He smiles sadly, “I was writing my new song, I wanted to get the lyrics right and when I saw you looking like that it was like a light bulb went off, so I got to writing and the next thing I knew you were leaving for work after kissing my forehead goodbye.”

“So you meant to come to bed?”

“Of course I meant to come to bed!”

“Then what about the guest room?”

“That was the night I went out with Brian and Matt, remember, it was guys night, the first one since I had been back from tour. Brian was determined to get shitfaced, and while I didn’t get as wasted as he did, I did get pretty sloshed. When I got home you were already in bed, and I knew you had just washed the sheets that day, and would be so upset with me if I went to bed smelling like a bar. I was so tired, and drunk that I wasn’t in the mood for a shower, so I decided to sleep in the guest room so I wouldn’t make your sheets smell bad. My drunk brain thought it was the greatest idea I’d ever had.”

She smiles at his dumb tactics.

“Quite honestly my sober brain thinks it’s pretty smart as well. You had literally just washed the sheets. I smelt like tequila and cigarettes. What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have told me the next morning so I didn’t spend the next 2 weeks thinking that you didn’t want to sleep next to me anymore.”

His shoulders sag and he reaches out for her.

“I can barely sleep without you next to me.” He mutters into her hair.

“It feels so good to talk to you again.” She sighs.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for it to seem like I was pushing you away.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you so much lately, I just, I can’t cope with the thought of not being enough for you.”

“Stop saying that! You’re more than enough. You’re everything and then some.”

“Can you just take me home and hold me tonight?”

“Of course I can Honey, let’s go.”

They walk back inside, where Karen and Manny are sipping their coffee as the couple slips their jackets on.

Shawn looks to his parents and gives them a nod, “Thank you.” He says, arm holding his wife close. “I love you both.”

“We love you.” They murmur together.

“Y/n,” He hums as he walks her to the front door.

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much Baby.”

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80s-roger · 4 years

Text

Not On My Watch (pt 5)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

check: masterlist // dialogue prompts

If you haven't read the previous chapters, here they are: part one // part two // part three // part four

note: it wasn’t supposed to be this specific plot, but I promise you the good one is at next one ;)

warnings: flashback scenes, angst, fluff

words: 2,849

taglist: @madeinheavxn @namelesslosers @stacymaytaylor (send me an ask or a message if you want to be tagged)

You set the table, eating like a proper family for the first time in two and a half years. Laura was extremely happy seeing her family reunited. You were telling her stories from the past, which she found intriguing and interesting. You didn't forget mentioning about Roger taking you with him on tour in the United States, a year after started dating. It was the first time you went abroad. You fell for Roger hard. Losing him made you lose yourself too.

"Wow mum, you never told me stories with dad. Fairytales are boring." She gasped after hearing your US experience.

"Why didn't you tell her stories about us?" Roger curiously asked.

"Because at the time, our marriage was going downhill. You know, so I tried to not think of you." You answered.

"Oh.." he didn't have to say something. "So Laura, do you want to hear another story of mum and me?" He asked. Meanwhile, you prepared the dishes for the washing machine. Laura nodded, waiting for the narration.

Flashback

"So you're going out with Kath's friend?" Brian asked Roger.

"Yes," Roger answered while fixing himself at the mirror. "So Kath is your new girlfriend? I thought she was a groupie." He joked.

"Haha, very funny." Brian mocked him. "She's a nice company." He added.

"What about the bone zone?" The blond drummer pondered with a naughty smile on his face.

"That's good too, I don't complain." He shared a laugh with his friend. "So where will you meet her?" He questioned.

"Outside of the pub we met." He answered. "Where should I take her?" Roger nervously asked as if he never went on a date.

"Where do you take most of the girls you like?" Brian asked trying to help him think rationally.

"Bed?" He said back and gained an eye roll from Brian. "But Y/N is so hard to get, I don't know. I'm afraid if I say something wrong she'll lose interest in any second." He mumbled.

"Easy Rog.." Brian tried to calm his friend down. "She agreed to go on a date with you, that's progress, right?" He continued. Roger nodded. "Which means she finds you cute or hot or I don't know how girls describe us." He chuckled at the end making the blond drummer laugh.

"Alright, maybe if I take her to some other pub where we can talk?" Roger thought again.

"Excellent. She's not like the other girls you date, Roger. She's, you know, -" Brian tried to explain what type of girl you are.

"The I-want-the-man-to-chase-me. She's screaming that." Roger described what girl you are and he was right. "It was so hard for me to get to talk with her after our gig ended, I'm even surprised she finally agreed." He added, now wearing his perfume, ready to meet you.

"She likes you, pal. Good luck!" Brian hugged his friend and Roger was on his way to meet you.

You were nervous too. You didn't want to be late. You were used to never arriving on time, but this time, it was a date with a man you liked from the first moment, as much as you denied it. There wouldn't be any other second chance with him, he'd become a famous rockstar.

"There you are!" Roger spotted you coming faster to his place.

"Shit, am I late?" You asked, checking your watch.

"No, no, I just arrived." He was waiting for you, for about ten minutes. But he came at the checkpoint a little earlier due to impatience seeing you.

"Alright then." You stopped a little to catch your breath. Your high heels hurt your feet by walking so fast. But you wanted to look beautiful. The blue dress you were wearing had Roger staring at it and you all the time.

"You look so beautiful Y/N." He gasped as he was checking you out. "Nice dress, nice heels, nice hair, nice you." He ended the compliment with a hand kiss. He really wanted you to catch feelings for him.

"Thank you, Roger." You smiled after receiving his kiss and his compliments. "Where can we go?" You asked.

"There's another pub downtown that plays jazz music and we can talk without shouting." He joked and gently grabbed your hand, opened the door for you and placed you inside.

"Oh, I like jazz." You were surprised that he was probably into jazz. You waited for him to get into his red Renault car.

"Perfect, let's go." He started the engine and nervousness hit your body. You were shaking, feeling like throwing up. A handsome guy next to you, an upcoming legend wants to go on a date with you. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked after stopping at the red traffic light. He checked your hands trembling and gently placed his on yours. "You're not cold, are you?" He asked. You can't be cold on a May night.

"No, I'm just a little nervous." You tried to keep smiling. You're not the tough girl he met a couple of days ago, but a vulnerable nineteen-year-old girl trying to find love.

Roger was feeling split: He had two options in his head. Should he take you to the pub you both agreed or somewhere isolated to talk with no one seeing. That would make you feel more uncomfortable.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked waiting for any answer. "You want me to keep driving or stop somewhere? I promise I won't do anything." He shared his ideas with you. You looked at him confused.

"Could you stop somewhere, please?" You politely asked trying to not sound bitter after your sudden mood.

"Sure, are you alright?" He asked again, trying to find any isolated place for you two.

"Yes, it happens a lot when I'm feeling nervous." You explained.

He didn't say a word. Until he found that place, behind a church, with no soul around. It seemed creepy if you consider you are on the car with a man you met a week ago. But you liked him.

"Listen, if you are feeling nervous, we can call it off." He showed empathy at you feeling awkward.

"No, I won't have another chance with you if we call it off." You got out of the car, trying to get some air. Roger followed your moves, now standing behind you.

"What do you mean?" He asked raising his hands.

"I mean you'll become famous and everything that goes with it and you'll forget about me anyways." You tried to explain.

"Why would I forget you? I like you." He straightforwardly said, sending you shivers.

"I like you too, but I don't want me to love you." You are a person full of emotions, throwing that to Roger made him feel weird.

"Why are you talking about love? This is a date, not a wedding." He objected.

"Exactly, I'm afraid if we become a girlfriend-boyfriend thing, I'll eventually love you and then things will get nasty." You could look years away. Look at you now.

"Are you nuts? I wanted to get to know you, I want to know you well, be my girlfriend, how do we call these things?" He questioned.

"Relationship." You answered turning around, to face him. "Would you like that? I wanted that for years." You asked trying to hide your desperation. But you couldn't.

"Hold on, you never had a relationship?" He asked confused, coming closer to you.

"Don't make fun of that, I never liked the boys who approached me." You admitted. You could see his eyes, sparkling from excitement because he knew now how inexperienced you were on that part. A hopeless romantic with huge fantasy.

"Well, I'd like to be the one." He smirked and grabbed his hands around your waist, pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips. Your first kiss ever. His lips harmoniously moved onto yours giving them what they needed all this time. Tenderness. "How was that?" He asked, his eyes now focused on yours.

"Amazing." You licked your lips and smiled, not feeling nervous anymore.

"Is the pub still a plan?" He asked.

"Yes." You were so hyped after your kiss you couldn't focus on anything besides Roger. His hand caught yours leading you back to his car.

Flashback ended.

"Wow, mum!" She turned to your place. "Dad was your first kiss?" She asked fully awed by the narration.

"Yes, he was." You blushed as you both looked at each other. He was fluttered by your current reaction. Your first everything.

"Oh dad, tell me more!" She begged for more stories, but it was time to leave.

"No young lady, I need to have some other memories between your mum and me." He playfully berated her. "Besides, we have to take you to Laura." You stood up from the chairs and moved towards the hall, wearing your shoes.

"Mum, will you tell me these stories instead of fairytales?' She asked while Roger helped her once more with tying her shoes.

"Yes, I will." You answered. You wanted to tell her stories about you and her father, but most of these are explicit. Not special for children.

-------------------------------------

Roger drove off to John's house to leave Laura. "I'll take her inside." He declared and you stayed in the car to wait.

"Daddy, what about my stuff?" She asked.

"We're going to mum's place now to take your stuff. We'll come again." He rubbed her head before knocking the door.

"Hey Roger, I was waiting for you now." He smiled at his bandmate and turned his gaze to Laura. "Hello, Laura! The other Laura waits for you inside! Come in!" He kissed her head.

"Bye, daddy!" She hugged him and walked inside the house.

"I'll come back again to bring her clothes and tomorrow's books for school," Roger said.

"Sure. I'm waiting for the details tomorrow." John winked.

"Ah, I see where you're getting with that." Roger laughed. "Just the abstract." He joked and left the grand house to come back to you.

"You have the keys to your apartment?" Roger asked you.

"Yes. And a piper spray for any case." You showed him that, referring to R/N who could wait for you around the corner.

"He won't harm you, over my dead body." He reassured you and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Shall we go?" He asked and you nodded.

There wasn't any talk during the car drive, but that didn't make it awkward. It was a peaceful silence you used to have before the dark days arrived. You couldn't hide your fear though, it was visible. Your hands were rubbing your thighs nervously. Roger, noticed your behaviour and placed his hand on yours. "It's going to be alright. That's why I'm here, with you." He placed his head on yours, giving you a reassuring kiss. You hugged him in return, feeling his scent against your senses. He smelled amazing. His perfume combined with nicotine was what you could characterize him.

You opened your apartment's door, seeing the inside of the house upside down. You knew he would fuck it up. All you could think of was who's going to clean this mess?

"Oh God-" you gasped and closed the door behind you.

"Y/N, don't worry we'll fix this mess together." He reassured you. "Do you think he did it on purpose?" He asked trying to figure out what was R/N's intent.

"Shit." You gasped again, looking at your ex-husband horrified.

"What?" He asked after seeing you turning pale.

"FUCK." You yelled, running to Laura's bedroom, looking for your diary. He knew about it.

You searched for it at the place you're hiding it and thanked your lucky stars it was up there inside the pillows you keep at the closet. "Oh God, oh God, thank you!" You stared above, kicking out all your angst while holding your huge notebook. It was clever of you to hide something personal at your daughter's room, in a cupboard she never uses. Roger followed you and sat next to you.

"Y/N, you alright?" He asked placing his hand at your back. His eyes fell at the notebook you were tightly holding. "What's this?" He curiously asked and tried to hold it but you politely refused. "Oh. Is it personal?" He questioned.

"I was keeping a diary all this time." You confessed.

"A diary? How long?" He asked as he was checking all these used pages.

"Before you." You smiled and scrolled a few of your pages.

"Wow, that's a lot..." he was amused. "So I guess I'm in there, aren't I?" He asked checking for assurance.

"Don't guess. Be sure." You smiled.

"Can I see just one page please?" He politely asked.

"I'll show you my favourite." You seemed too excited to get to a specific page.

Roger next to you was smiling through the entire process, trying to read while pages were fastly zapping, until you stopped somewhere from the first twenty pages. He focused on your point of view, trying to understand what you were writing about.

"Oh, your first time." He awed. After reading the sentence: my heart was beating so fast at the moment he was inside me, even my soul could see his, from our eyes. "I didn't know you were so sentimental about it." His cheeks blushed from everything you wrote.

"Of course I was, it was my first time. I loved you, Roger." You opened your heart to him for one more time. His eyes were wide opened. It was the first time he got to hear from you how you really felt about your first time. He continued reading to the next day, how you behaved after your first time.

It had to happen right? Or not? My parents are going to kill me. It should have happened after marriage. That's what they've been saying all my life. I love Roger but he would never settle for a wedding. He's a rockstar now, he would probably abandon me if I ask him to marry me. I have to keep it a secret.

"Y/N, you never told me that your parents are against sex before the wedding." He was shocked at what you were writing.

"I know, I had to do it, otherwise you'd break up with me. I didn't want that at the time." You said feeling secure now that he's still by your side.

"Oh, baby..." he whispered and kept you in his arms. "Was it too important to your family to keep your virginity?" He asked.

"It was for them to keep it until my wedding night." You started. "But you know? I only wanted to give it to the man I loved so bad one summer night. And it was special for me, you made it all about me." You continued and stayed in his arms for a couple of minutes. "They always believed my first time was at our wedding."

"I think you have to take this with you. It's not safe on its own. We should grab Laura's stuff and drive them off to John's." You both stood up and put your daughter's stuff in a bag.

You got in the car again, still silent. You were just reading random pages from your diary, getting all emotional. From you meeting him, dating him, marrying him, giving birth to his child, divorcing him... You wrote many things in there. It has an emotional value. You knew by now that Roger was the only person you wouldn't bother reading it, after your permission of course, because almost every page has his name on it.

---------------------

After giving Laura her stuff, you went back to Roger's fancy house. You were getting used to getting there. He looked like wanting to stay with you again, without including the disagreements. He opened the door and you both walked upstairs, leading to his bedroom.

"Do you think you should stay here now?" He asked.

"Why?" You returned as you placed your diary at the nightstand.

"That asshole could come to your place, any moment. You're not safe." He explained. "Maybe you should stay here. With me." He came closer to you, his face inches away from yours. You didn't say anything. Just let him do all the work for you.

His kiss was deep and his hands couldn't restrict themselves from touching your waist. These couple of days, you are much closer than you were when your marriage went downhill. You wanted to give it a chance.

"Tonight, I want you to be loud. I missed that." He stated, looking you into your eyes.

"Loud?" You asked, trying to understand his motives.

"Really loud. This is why Laura isn't here." He winked and left his room, going to the bathroom to take a shower.

"You're the filthiest man I know!" You playfully yelled at him.

"Oh, I know love!" He loudly answered from the bathroom and so on, you went downstairs to fix two glasses of red wine. Chilling situations like these, haven't happened since Laura was a baby.

#roger taylor #Roger Meddows Taylor #roger taylor fic #queen fic #queen band #queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x female reader #roger taylor x Y/N #john deacon #freddie mercury #brian may

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bittysvalentines · 4 years

Photo

To @mia-wiah

From @wrathofthestag

Message: Happy Bitty Valentine’s! A little domestic future Zimbits that revolves around snow. I hope you like it, @mia-wiah <3

“Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person” ― Sylvia Plath

“Jack... Jack”

“Hmm?”

“It's snowing.”

“Yeah.”

“A lot.”

“Right on.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean like a lot.”

Jack, who still had his eyes closed, reached over to Bitty's side of the bed and pouted when he felt it was empty. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up as he stretched while he loudly yawned.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked over to Bitty, who peered out their bedroom windows.

“Look at this,” he said as he pointed at the windows.

Jack pulled on his jogging pants and padded over toward Bitty. Sure enough, everything was white. Fluffy snow blanketed everything as far as the eye could see. Their backyard grill was almost completely covered, and it was still coming down.

"This is a lot more than what the news predicted," Bitty said, shaking his head.

"Guess it's a good thing we don't have to be anywhere. Come back to bed, Bits."

“Look at it,” Bitty said in disbelief.

Jack draped himself over Bitty and brought him in tight for a hug, chest to back.

“Come back to bed,” he accentuated each word with a kiss to BItty’s neck, then padded back to the bed.

Bitty took one more look at the snow, then back at his sleepy grinning husband and figured there were definitely worse ways to weather the storm.

Bitty started the coffee brewing, and Jack entered the room in full-on lumberjack gear with a flannel shirt, some long underwear, thick wool socks, and what Jack liked to refer to as his “favorite toque.”

Bitty’s heart fluttered as he took Jack in with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you looking like a winter wonderland?”

Jack laughed and took the mug Bitty offered him.

“Bits, that was terrible―like, even for us, that was bad.”

Bitty chuckled. “Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“So, I’m going to go shovel, and then do we want to make some waffles and bacon?”

Bitty smiled. “I love how you say ‘we’ when what you’re really saying is ‘Can you please make some waffles and bacon.’”

Jack kissed Bitty.

“Can you please make some waffles and bacon?” he said sweetly.

“Get outta here, you schmoozer, and go shovel.”

Jack laughed as he returned to the bedroom to finish getting dressed.

They weren’t looking to buy a house, not yet. Jack’s contract was up soon, and they didn’t feel it would be wise to buy a place if they were going to end up moving. Providence loved Jack, but he wasn’t naive. He knew it didn’t mean anything when it came time for contracts and potential trades.

Once his contract had been renewed (“Seriously, Jack. The only way you’d ever leave the Falconers is by your own choice,” George had said afterward), Jack and Bitty let themselves start looking. Just a little bit…

One day, Bitty was perusing real estate online, and there it was, a quiet, unassuming home in Fox Point. It was a sunny historic cottage built in the late 1800s. The realtor had charmed them with the open floor plan and two-story addition. The fireplaced living room, vaulted ceilings, and gourmet kitchen only sweetened the deal.

“You can walk to everything from here,” their realtor, Melissa, had said, “but it still has a small neighborhood feel.”

The history buff in Jack fell in love with the home’s past and Bitty, well, he fell in love with its future, picturing themselves growing old together in that home.

“Do you like it?” Jack asked quietly as they stood in the kitchen while Melissa gave them some privacy.

“Do you?”

“Bits,” Jack asked again, “do you like it?”

“Jack, I love it. It has a red door!”

“Then I guess it’s ours,” Jack said as he grinned while Bitty jumped into his arms.

They moved in a few months later, after a couple of final renovations.

“How did we have this much stuff in the apartment?” Jack asked. “How?”

“Mama finally had the rest of my stuff shipped here. The trophies, books, old clothes, baby clothes, costumes, everything,” Bitty said as he polished MooMaw’s silver platter and gently placed it on the counter.

“Was she in cahoots with maman? I just got some boxes of stuff, too,” Jack said, bewildered, as he unpacked old hockey gear from his pee wee days. “I don’t need this,” he said as he held up an old skate with broken laces. “Do I?”

Bitty laughed. “Aw, what about our kids?”

Jack looked at his skate and smiled. “We’ll get them new ones.”

He tossed it aside and pulled out some more books from the box. “Also, I like that subtle segue into the topic of parenthood.”

“It’s not subtle or unsubtle; it’s just practical talk, Mr. Zimmermann. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to have kids tomorrow. Maybe in a couple years we’ll see.”

Jack looked at his husband, who unpacked various kitchen odds and ends and smiled as he did. They had talked about children in the past, peripherally, but they had talked about it. Now, being married with a house of their own and feeling settled… it seemed like a real possibility.

“Soon, Bits. Soon.”

Once every dish was finally in place, every book, every cushion, every trophy just so, the very first snowfall of the year began.

“We’re home,” Bitty said as they sat in the window seat, eating pizza, and quietly watching the snow come down.

“Yeah, we are,” Jack said as he smiled and watched Bitty admire the newly fallen snow.

That was two years ago.

“What are you doing out here?”

Jack stopped shoveling when he saw Bitty approaching. He was dressed in his full winter wear, which included an enormous down parka―which Jack continuously chirped him about―a thick knitted cap, and a scarf which wrapped around his neck twice.

“I came to help,” he said.

“But you hate shoveling,” Jack said. A huff of frosty air came from his mouth.

“But I love you, so,” Bitty shrugged, “it all evens out.”

“The salt is still in the garage. Wanna get it?”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Bitty said with a salute.

After a while, Bitty seemed to get in the groove, salting their walkway when all of a sudden, he screamed as a colossal snowball landed right in his face.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann! I’m going to kill you!”

Jack laughed as Bitty began to chase him around their backyard, still wiping snow out of his eyes. His scarf flapped in the wind behind him.

“You’ll make an adorable widower!”

When Bitty finally caught up to him, he jumped onto Jack’s back and pulled him down onto a massive pile of snow.

“You are such a stinker!”

“You should have seen the look on your face, Bittle,” Jack said.

“Was it anything like this?” Bitty asked as he threw a mound of snow onto Jack’s face.

The two laughed and wrestled, each one turning them both to pin the other down, until Jack finally pulled a dirty move and licked Bitty’s face.

When Bitty rolled off him, swearing up a storm, Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Half an hour later, they came back inside. Jack and Bitty shook the snow off their boots and bodies, in the back mudroom, and hung up their coats.

“I’m going to change because my husband is a hooligan, and then I’m going to make myself some waffles and bacon.”

Jack smirked, a piece of snow still clung to his beard, “Guess I’ll just sit sadly and watch you eat.”

Bitty winked. “I guess you will.”

Jack pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it on the couch as he went straight to the kitchen. He took out the eggs, milk, bacon, and the giant glass mixing bowl. He turned on the oven to 400° and washed his hands.

“Should I make all the bacon?” Jack called out.

“Yeah,” Bitty replied as he entered the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

“More coffee?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” Bitty said as he took out the waffle maker.

The two worked in quiet unison, each one familiar with the other’s breakfast dance. Jack paused to admire the snowfall, still going, then paused once again to admire Bitty. He wore an old Falconer’s t-shirt and his well-worn Samwell joggers. The back of his hair stuck up in a million little pieces.

Jack looked at Bitty’s bare feet and smiled.

“It doesn’t seem like the snow is going to stop anytime soon, does it?” Bitty said. He cracked

two eggs into the bowl and stilled when he saw Jack watching him closely. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jack put down the coffee filter and walked over to Bitty in two long strides. He took him in his arms and smiled.

“Look at you, in your pajamas, always making our house feel like a home even in the coldest, wintry days…”

“Yeah?”

“I think we should do it, Bits.”

“Do what?”

“Should we finally start a family?”

“Really?” Bitty asked so quietly, Jack barely heard him.

“Yes. I mean, if you’re ready. If you’re ready, I’m ready, and if you’re not, we can wait… but...”

Bitty looked at Jack, then jumped onto his back like he did outside in the snow, and began laughing. “I cannot believe you! You spring this on me when I look like this?”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

“It has everything to do with it, you moose!”

The two began to laugh some more, already dreaming of small bare feet running in their kitchen, as snow falls outside all around them.

#bv2020 #bitty's valentines #bittyjack #omg check please!#check please fandom

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

Text

Thank U, Next | Poe Dameron x Reader (2/2)

Prompt: Joy

Fandom: Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy)

Words: 6049 (idk what happened)

Warning: Minor swearing? Mentions of bullying. Some chonks of dialogue here and there.

A/N: So this became longer than expected, but I wanted to make sure I wrapped up everything. I hadn’t written this much for a fic in a long time and I hope a coherent story came out of it.

You dropped off a container of beef stew at Finn’s house and was dragged into a long conversation by his parents on what you’ve been up to. It was always the same spiel that you told the others. You had a cozy apartment in New York, you had work published, and now you’re waiting for your big break. Half an hour before lunch, you excused yourself, giving yourself time to calm down before you reached the diner.

You were the first to arrive, picking a booth near the corner and a window. When the waiter came by, you debated whether you should order for Poe, assuming that his taste buds are the same, then thought better of it. You simply ordered two waters and said you were expecting someone else.

Poe’s truck pulled into the parking lot eight minutes later. He spotted you through the window and waved. You offered a smile, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as he made his way inside the diner. The waiter came by just as Poe sat down. He flipped through the menu and gave his order, saying exactly what you thought he’d order. He hadn’t changed. The waiter left after you gave him your order.

“So, how are things?” Poe asked.

You shrugged. “They’re good,” you said, “You?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just good?”

“Yeah, you know. What else can I say? Nothing eventful had happened lately. Everything’s just routine at this point.”

He hummed, not buying it. “What happened to the story you wrote our senior year? I would have thought that you’d do some revisions before getting published.”

“Oh, that thing,” you said, feigning indifference as you wiped the side of your cup with a finger, “It’s… I kind of gave up on that one, you know?”

“Why? It was so good!”

You shrugged again. You wanted to believe him, but this nagging feeling in your brain, telling you that he was lying, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking, wouldn’t stop every time he complimented your story. It was like a sensory alarm that went off every time he touched a certain subject. You had hoped that you’d get over this feeling, but it was something that was more recent than your time with Poe was, and it affected you more deeply and painfully.

“Didn’t think it’d be something that I wanted to be known for. I wanted to try different writing styles and genres to find where I fit. Besides, I didn't think you’d remember that one. It was so long ago.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved that story. There were moments that made me laugh, made me cry, and it was just so relatable and interesting. I really think you should revisit that one.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Maybe it’ll help my writer’s block.”

The rest of the day was spent on eating and talking about high school. He brought up the time when someone tried to pull a prank on the soccer team by spiking their watercooler during an important game, but got caught because the cooler fell over them. Then, that time when he was performing with his band and one of his fangirls ran on stage to try and kiss him.

“There were so many people that hated me when we were together,” you said, shaking your head.

“Aw, come on. I don’t think it was that bad,” he said.

You scoffed. “Poe, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without girls following me, sneering at me and telling me that I wasn’t good enough for you. That one day you were going to leave me for someone else once you got bored of me and that you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. Remember the time we went to Rose’s house when her parents were away and some asshole invited a bunch of people? We got separated and your fangirls decided to team up and dunk me into the pool and hold me there. If Finn, Snap, and Kare weren't there, I would have drowned.”

Poe frowned, sitting back. “I… I didn’t know that happened. (Y/n/n), why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, scratching your head in frustration, memories of your arguments over it resurfacing. “I did, but you dismissed it. You said that they were drunk and didn’t mean it to go that far.”

“(Y/n/n), I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know. I just thought… I don’t know why, but I thought you were exaggerating. I should have known better. I should have known that you wouldn’t lie about these kinds of stuff.”

“Yeah… which was one of the reasons why I thought we wouldn’t have lasted long after we graduated,” you said softly. “All kinds of problems when it comes to long distance relationships.”

“We could have at least tried.”

“And if it came to the point where someone tells you that, I don’t know, that I was cheating on you, which has happened to many couples that are involved in the military, what would you have done? Or if something happened while you were away? Were you just going to brush it off, or get angry if I want to talk about it?”

“Well, we'll never know, now, will we?” he countered.

You let out a heavy sigh, gathering your things. “I’m sorry. I’m instigating again,” you said, taking out some bills to pay for the meal, “It really was nice to talk to you again, Poe, really. I think it’s best if I get going.”

Poe’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “No, you’re not running away again. Please, let’s just take this conversation elsewhere, okay? I’ve got the check. Meet me by the docks?”

He pleaded with his warm brown eyes, his grip on you loosening. He grabbed your money and gave it back to you, taking out his own wallet to pay. You reluctantly let him, shoving the money back in your bag.

“Fine. The docks at eight.”

“Thank you.”

You stopped by the house before meeting Poe, helping your mother with some chores around the house. Your mother was acting weird, glancing at you every now and then with a weird look. You asked her what was wrong, but she simply shrugged it off.

“So, I heard that you and Poe were hanging out today,” she said casually as she washed the dishes.

“Really?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s a small town, kid,” she said with a shrug, “Besides, I like him. Good kid. Stubborn, though, wanting to follow his parents’ footsteps in the military. A bit oblivious, too. I remember you coming home upset because he got carried away when talking with his friends and he didn’t realize that there were girls flirting with him. Besides all of that, you guys were good together. Not like that guy from New York-”

“Is that what this is all about?” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms.

Your mother turned the faucet off and wiped her hands. “Sweetie, I heard from Armitage that Ben was in town-”

“He’s telling everyone, has he? What a rat.”

She shook her head. “Millicent was in the garden again and Armitage came by to get her. It just sort of came up about Ben. Armitage was just concerned for you, that’s all.”

“If he’s so concerned, then he should have told his friend to stop being an asshole.”

“Armitage said they stopped talking after he heard about what happened between the two of you.”

You walked away, sitting at the dining table without a word. Your mother sighed, taking a seat next to you. She took your hands into her own, but you refused to look at her.

“I’m sensing that there are things that you have not told me about what happened between you and Ben. I’m not forcing you to tell me, just that I’m always here to talk, okay?” You nodded. She leaned forward, pecking your forehead, before patting your shoulders. “Right, you’re going to meet your pilot boy. Tell him I said hi, alright?”

“Okay.”

The bed of Poe’s truck was facing the docks, the tailgate open with a lamp sitting on it. Poe was taking out a cooler and a blanket when you arrived. He took out a beer bottle from the cooler and handed one to you before hopping onto the tailgate. You followed suit, grabbing the bottle opener while you stared out at the water.

“Excited for the reunion?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Probably just going to stick to my people the whole night.”

Poe nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I lost touch with a lot of people when I left. Gonna be weird to see my old friends from school.”

“And your fangirls?” you teased.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “They’re probably all married anyways.”

“They’ll probably leave their husbands’ sides to follow you. I mean, look at you. You’re still quite a catch, Poe.”

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I only want one person to catch me, though. If they want me.”

“Can’t imagine why anyone would want to be caught by… that person. They seemed to only mess things up.”

“Hey, that’s not true. A relationship isn’t just one person, (Y/n). I’ve messed some stuff up, too. Hell, I haven’t been able to maintain a long relationship for a while. People break up for one reason or another. But, sometimes, that doesn’t mean they can’t try again.”

You took a swig of your beer and leaned back, feeling his eyes following your every movement. You shifted in your spot, turning back to the water in front of you. Light from the docks and the town reflected off its inky black surface, a sliver of the moon peeking out from the clouds, illuminating everything else.

“You’re saying you wanna try ‘us’ again? Poe, you’re up in the air most of the time.”

“That’s true, but your work can be done anywhere, right? You’ve always said that you wanted to travel and it would help your writing. Maybe this time, you can come with me.”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“Would it be crazy to say that I never stopped thinking about you?”

“It’s pretty crazy, actually.”

A long time ago, those sweet words would have heated your cheeks and made you feel giddy. Now you take each word with hesitation and skepticism, as if those sugar cubes were actually salt blocks. It’s one thing to say sweet things, it’s another to act on them.

“Besides,” you said, the bottle inches from your lips, “We’re not the same people from high school anymore.”

“Then, we’ll start over.”

You sighed. “Can we just drop it for now and enjoy the view?”

“Okay,” he relented, shifting around to get comfortable, “We can do that.”

You stayed like that until it was late. It was nice to sit in silence. It wasn’t awkward between you two, just two people enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Such a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of New York with an active nightlife.

When it was time to head home, Poe pulled you into a long hug, the heat from his body radiating off of him and shielding you from the cold breeze. You slowly raised your arms, wrapping them around him. You missed this. You missed him. So much. You wished you could stop pulling away from him, but you had scars that you weren’t ready for him to see.

One more day until your class reunion. You weren’t exactly jumping for joy, but it wasn’t like you were going to be alone, either. You met up with Finn and Rey at the mini golf course, taking turns while you talked. Even though you met Rey recently, it was like talking to an old friend. You would tell her about the time Finn claimed to have asthma so he’d be excused from running laps in PE and she’d tell you how they met and how they felt like they were going to die on one of their dates when the elevator stopped working.

After the last round and almost getting smacked by Rey’s bicep, the three of you went to go and get pizza. It was under new owners from the last time you’ve been there, but they kept the retro charm with the brick and mortar walls and arcade games in the corner.

“So,” Finn said, sipping his soda as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I heard you were hanging around with Dameron.”

You groaned, taking a big bite of your pizza. Finn smirked, unfazed by your glare.

“Who’s Dameron, again?” Rey asked.

“Poe. One of (Y/n)’s exes,” he said, “Pretty cool dude, too. They broke up because he wanted to go join the military.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling everyone about my love life, friend,” you said.

“Understandable,” Rey, looking at you sympathetically, “I heard it’s hard to maintain a relationship when your significant other is in the military.”

“Thank you.”

“I shipped you two so hard,” Finn continued, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Well, life… you know?”

Finn nodded, raising his soda. You and Rey clinked your glasses with his and drank.

“I can tell you one thing, though, I’ve heard about our classmates, and less than half of them ended up in the same career path that they had set out to do when we graduated. Man, so much for pressuring us to pick our college major in Freshman year, right? Why couldn’t they have taught us budgeting and work ethic in different work environments?”

You hummed. “Maybe you should be a teacher, Finn.”

“See?” Rey said excitedly, pointing at her fiance, “That’s what I’ve been telling him!”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve been concentrating on more fitness. Maybe be a PT? Rey’s the one getting her doctorates, so when I go to her high school reunion, I can be the trophy husband to a successful doctor.”

“Aw, Finnie.” Rey leaned her head on his shoulder.

You sighed, drinking your soda as if it was alcohol. The price you pay for hanging out with your friends who are a couple, becoming the third wheel. You looked down at your tray of pizza. Maybe you could try and finish it all by yourself. Sometimes when they’re wrapped up in each other, it’ll take a while for them to snap out of it, which means you might be there for a while.

You couldn’t sleep that night, knowing that Ben was going to be there. So far, you hadn’t ran into him, which was saying a lot because you ran into a lot of old classmates and teachers the past few days. Unless he was actively avoiding you.

Your mother found you sitting at the kitchen table slouching over two chocolate pudding cups. She wordlessly got her own cup and sat next to you, waiting. You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Where to begin?

“The reason why I haven’t written my book is… because I had been writing scripts for Ben,” you said, staring down at your spoon, “Scripts that Ben had taken and put under his name, and his name alone. I didn’t know until I went to visit him on one of his sets that he had done that. He said that he took my idea and changed some of the major points of the story, so he technically wrote it. Then, I went to the film festival with him and saw that it was almost exactly the same script that I wrote. I foolishly did it again and again, believing him when he said that he’ll have me more involved in his movies and… he didn’t.”

You shook your head, opening another pudding cup. Your mother waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

“When I confronted him about it, he confessed that he made some deal with an indie film studio and that it would be more profitable and more exposure for him to take the credit. After all, I only write simple little stories that even a high schooler could write,” you added the last bit bitterly, “I’m scraping by while doubting my life choices of doing something I love instead doing something where I won’t gamble whether I’d earn enough money to pay for food and rent. Meanwhile, Ben’s having a field day winning awards for his directing and screenwriting at film festivals, not that he ever lived uncomfortably, being the mayor’s son and all.

“I just,” you sighed in frustration, your eyes beginning to sting as the exhaustion and anger took over you, “I’ve been told so many times how I’m not good enough, how writing won’t pay the bills, how writing doesn’t even take any skills or effort. I’ve been talked down to because of my choices, as if I was stupid or lazy. I’ve been trying to use spite to get me through this, reminding myself that this is what I’ve always wanted to do, no matter how many times the publishers tell me to change my stories into another cliche, but it’s tiring. It’s not enough. And I was stubborn to try and stick to my guns instead of compromising, because that would mean that everyone was right and that whole thing with Ben… I thought I could finally be with someone without giving up my dreams, but being with him made me question whether they should just stay as dreams and not a reality.”

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother said softly, pulling you in as you furiously wiped the tears that just kept falling.

“I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know if I want to write anymore. I tried and… nothing seemed to stick. Nothing felt right.”

“And you think if you were to take a job in, I don’t know, accounting, would you be happy? Even if it paid your bills and helped you buy that nice apartment?”

“No, of course not, but at least it’s something. It’s not like anyone is impressed with a writer unless they’re New York Times’ bestseller and become a movie franchise. It’s so frustrating. I want to do what I love, but I want to live comfortably while doing it.”

“And you will,” your mother assured you, rubbing your back soothingly, “I can feel that you’re close, so close to making it. You just have to keep pressing on. You’ll get there and it wouldn’t be to prove people wrong or show Ben up, it’ll be for you. Go back and find that drive you had when you began writing, everything else will follow. You are talented, (Y/n), and you have people that love you and care for you. If things are meant to be, if you feel it in your heart that it’s right, then it will work out.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“There better be a dedication for me at the front of the book.”

You both laughed. “Yeah, it might take a whole page.”

Talking with your mother helped ease your nerves a bit and Finn and Rey had texted you, offering to carpool with them. You accepted, being reassured once again that they’ll have your back.

You dressed casual, not expecting anything too fancy for the reunion. On your way towards campus, Finn began to play music that was popular from your time at school and you discovered that Rey had an amazing voice.

“You think that they’ll make a slideshow?” Finn asked.

“God, I hope not,” you groaned, “I looked terrible.”

“No, you didn’t! You dated two of the hottest guys in school, me and Dameron,” he said confidently.

“Nice compliment while tooting your own horn there, friend.”

“Hey, and also, you can tell that looks don’t matter to you ‘cause you had a crush on Hux, too.”

“Hey, I thought he was cute. Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, is he the ginger one that we saw the other day walking his cat?” Rey asked. Finn nodded. “I… I can kind of see it. Yeah.”

“You don’t sound convincing. Anyways! You guys were talking about visiting New York sometime this year?”

There was a new gym on your old high school campus, topped with solar panels and an air condition unit. The parking lot was gradually filling up, a trickle of a line leading into the new gym, the front double doors wide open with streamers and balloons in the school’s colors bordering them.

Finn pulled up next to a familiar truck, making you roll your eyes. He flashed you a cheeky grin before climbing out, rushing around to hold Rey’s door open. You stared at the campus, at the newly painted walls, cleaner drinking water fountains, neatly trimmed grass, and the large banner that ran across the front of the main office welcoming your alumni class. You could see your younger self hanging out by the old gym with your friends, or waiting outside of the bandroom for Poe, or setting up a booth for your school club.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Poe asked from behind you.

“You have to stop doing that,” you scolded him, smacking his arm.

He winced, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “At least you’re slowly treating me like how you used to.”

“Hey, Dameron!” Finn called out, tackling him into a hug.

Poe grunted before hugging him back. “Hey, you act like we haven’t drank together earlier this week. This must be Rey, right?”

Rey smiled, coming over to give him a more gentle hug. “Nice to meet you, Poe. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said.

While the two of them conversed about flying vehicles, you pulled Finn on the side, looking around cautiously. “I forgot to tell you before we came here…,” you started in a hushed tone, “So, there’s this thing with Ben-”

“Ben Solo?”

“Yes, him, I want to pretty much avoid him if possible and I need your help with that.”

Finn frowned in concern, cracking his knuckles. “Did he hurt you?”

“He never hit me,” you said quickly, “Just… it just really affected me mentally and emotionally, you know? I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“When did this happen?”

“We ran into each other in New York at a book signing. We caught up with each other, got coffee, then we started dating, so… that was a while ago, though.”

Finn nodded, patting your shoulder. “Don’t worry. We got your back, remember? Does Poe know?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Great, ‘cause him and Solo had some beef in high school.”

“Of course he does. Poe thinks he’s some kind of resistance leader or something.”

All four of you made your way towards the gym, signing in and writing out your name tags. Finn looped his arm with Rey and dragged her towards the punch bowl, leaving you trailing behind with Poe. He slowly offered his arm for you to take. You stared at it for a while as he nudged you with it. You thought back to what your mother had told you. You had people that love and care about you. Despite what happened between you two, despite the years apart, Poe Dameron still cared. Even if you weren’t able to move your relationship forward to more than friends, he would at least still be in your life.

You wrapped your arms around his bicep, the corner of Poe’s lips turning up as you did so, and the two of you made your way over to where Finn was talking to one of your former teachers, Lando Calrissian. He turned and broke into a wide smile as he greeted the two of you.

Throughout the day, the four of you made your rounds with the teachers and your fellow classmates. Just as you predicted, some of the women that had a crush on Poe briefly left their husbands’ side to greet him and linger around, finding any form of small talk as an excuse to stick around.

“I heard the two of you broke up after graduation,” one of them said, “Did you two get back together?”

“Not yet,” Poe answered before you could say anything, “Still tryna win (Y/n) over again. Worth it, though, right?” He bumped his forehead onto your head in an act of displaying affection.

She forced a smile on her face. “Aw, that’s so sweet,” she said before walking away.

“I should have bet money on that happening,” you muttered.

“Man, did you see her face?” Poe chuckled, turning to face you, “Besides, betting only works if I wanted to oppose you on that, and I’m tired of doing that with you. I was serious, though. I really want us to try again, but if you don’t want to, then fine. If you want to just stay friends, good. One word from you shall silence me forever, (Y/n), I’m serious.”

“Slow down, there, Mister Darcy,” you said, “It’s not even the end of the night yet.”

Your little group grew with the added Janna, Rose, Armitage, Snap, Kare, Jessika, and more came by to talk. Living in New York, you didn’t have much friends. A few writing buddies, a few college classmates, a neighbor, the nice couple that ran the restaurant downstairs, and your editor. Coming here, that uneasy feeling that you had, you realized, was vulnerability. It wasn’t something you’d normally do living in New York, even around friends. But, with these people, the ones that you grew up with, it was easy to let your guard down and enjoy the moment.

You were having fun and you were glad that you decided to come. Though as time went on, you felt your throat tighten and your eyes stinging. It was starting again. You excused yourself, walking out of the gym for some air. Poe watched you leave, concern written all over his face. Rose nudged him, assuring that you were fine and needed air.

You sat down on one of the benches overlooking the basketball and tennis courts. Leaning back, you inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. Whenever you felt overwhelming happiness, dread was always there waiting to ruin it. You couldn’t even remember when it started, but you became better at dealing with it.

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

You froze, not wanting to turn to face the source of that voice. Out of all times that he would try to approach you, he chose the time where you were alone away from everyone else. You sensed him sit down next to you. For a while, you sat in silence. It was a different silence than with Poe. With Poe, it was comforting and relaxing, with no words needed to be said. By the end of it, you would feel refreshed like you had come out of meditation. With Ben, it was like sitting with an energy vampire, and by the end of it, you felt tired and drained.

“I didn’t think you’d come, either,” you said, your voice breaking the silence. You tried to raise your chin, preparing for battle.

Ben sighed, shifting around. You heard crumpling, then something nudging your hand. You looked down and saw a thick manila envelope. You dared to look up at him for the first time in a year. He looked tired.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“It’s… I’m sorry that I took your work, took everything that you could have used as evidence to prove that they’re your work,” he said, looking down, “I’ve gathered all of them and put it in your envelope so you could submit it for copyright. If you want to take legal actions, I’ll happily allow it.”

Allow it. Sure. As if he was giving me permission. He’s probably patting his back for this one good deal he’s doing. You took the envelope, feeling the weight of it, picturing all the scripts that you had written in the past. Writing came easy to you back then. Then you remembered all the lies he had told you. When you were no longer willing to do what he wanted, you were no longer useful. There was this heavy feeling in your chest, something wanting to come out unless you’ll explode. The sad thing was that he wasn’t always like this, and it was probably why you foolishly kept overlooking or denying his bad behavior.

“We could have worked together,” you said, “And you had to go and pull that shit?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” It was hard to tell if he was being genuine. You could no longer trust your instincts when it came to him.

“You would dare criticize my writing when you couldn’t even write anything for yourself? And you just know that I would believe all of it, and you still kept at it. Do you know how hard it was to write anything after what you put me through? Being told my writing is not complex or sophisticated enough, being told that my own scripts aren’t even my own, watching you keep those awards for screenwriting while no one else would want to even look at my work? Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Ben Solo.”

Ben inhaled sharply. “Then, what the hell do you want me to do, huh? All your stuff is there. Go and copyright it, sue me for plagiarism, and I’ll pay you the fees.”

“Fees that you could easily pay off,” you said, standing up, “But when I do speak to my lawyer, I’ll see what else I can do to you.”

“Yeah, would you be happy then?”

You glared down at him. “After all of that, I’ll finally be free of you, so maybe I will be,” you said, then added in a low voice, “It’s a shame, though. I thought we worked well together, but sharing wasn’t exactly your thing. You hurt me, Ben. I don’t think we could even be friends after this.”

“Right, like how your close friends with Armitage, Finn, and Poe, right? Just friends?” Ben snapped.

You shook your head at him. “You are utterly ridiculous, Solo. Just be glad I hadn’t told your mom about what you did.”

You let out another slow exhale as you walked away, your work in hand, and a heavy weight left behind. It wasn’t completely over, but the burden of it hanging over your shoulders was gone. All that was left was tying loose ends. Then after, you can start again.

In the gym, they had already set up the small stage with chairs scattered about. Poe sat on stage with a guitar in hand. He shifted on the stool that was clearly too small for him, tuning the guitar as he looked around. You found an empty seat between Rey and Rose at the front and sat down. Poe smiled as you met his eyes and he began to play.

At the end of the night, you and the girls decided to hang out for the rest of the week before you and Rey had to fly back home. You exchanged numbers and looked up movies playing. A few of you had different choices of movies, but Rose suggested that they should time it so we could watch all of them. After parting with the others, Poe jogged up to you.

“Hey,” he said, “I really enjoyed the past few days. It was nice to hang out again. I’m, uh, I actually have to leave tomorrow night. One of the pilots got sick, so… I was wondering, ‘cause I know you’re spending time with the girls and I don’t want to take too much of your time, but if you could see me off? Even if just for a few minutes.”

You sighed, looking down at your shoes, then back at Rose and Rey who had paused their conversation to give you a thumbs up. You shook your head and turned back to Poe. He waited patiently with pleading eyes, chipping away at your remaining walls.

“Okay. Just text me what time and I’ll try to be there before you go,” you said, taking out your phone.

You handed your phone over and watched as Poe excitedly inputted his number before texting himself. “Okay, all set,” he said.

“This doesn’t mean anything more than it has to be,” you reminded him.

“I know. We’ll take it one step at a time. Restart.”

“Thank you, Poe,” you said softly, stepping forward and catching him by surprise as you pulled him into a hug.

Poe returned the hug, engulfing you fully. “Don’t mention it, (Y/n/n). I’m one call away if you need me.”

The next day, you drive to the airport an hour before Poe heads off to his gate. As a pilot, he could pass the gruelling standard TSA checks and flash his ID, but he waited for you in his pilot uniform. Jessika had given you all a ride and offered to drive you to the airport. They girls had gone to Starbucks while you made your way over to his airlines.

He spotted you, giving you a long salute, which you returned, then grabbed his luggage, making his way towards the escalators up. He turned around one last time and waved. Raising your hand to wave back, you couldn’t help but see his military uniform instead of his pilot uniform, thinking what if you had at least been there when he was first shipped off. When he was out of sight, you turned and slowly made your way towards the others.

Coming back to your hometown, you didn’t expect much to happen. You expected nostalgia, of course, like looking at an old doll house you used to play with. The bittersweet feeling in your stomach as you flipped through photo albums with your mother, as you drive by your old hang out spots, and seeing your classmates for the first time in ten years. You expected to feel distant from them. These were all familiar things, but you were not the same person that left this town, and neither is everyone else.

You didn’t expect to be pulled into a warm embrace, to be fully welcomed back, to be seen and treated as yourself as you are now and not expected to be yourself from ten years ago. You didn’t expect this much confrontation, of the past coming back and making you face them head on to set things straight. You didn’t expect to feel lighter and stronger and more confident, acknowledging everything that you had gone through and their effects on you, that they were things that you were capable of overcoming.

On your last day in your hometown, until next time, you had a teary goodbye with your friends and your mother. You promised to be in more touch with them this time and that they were free to visit you in New York any time.

Taking your window seat and settling in, you took out your journal and flipped through all the scribbles of ideas you had done. You turned to a blank page and began to write. You ignored any grammatical mistakes you made and kept going, knowing that once your flow is going, you had to go with it or get stuck. The only thing that stopped you was a familiar voice.

“Good morning, passengers, and thank you for choosing our airlines-” Poe announced.

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. After talking to your mother about what you were going to do once you got back to New York, you decided that you weren’t going to worry about things too far in the future. You were going to focus on the present and set up long and short time goals. You could still work on that novel, but you could also put together anthologies for a start. Maybe go back into script writing. Maybe even revisit that story you wrote in high school.

It’s just like what Poe said, life was funny. You plan something, you end up doing something else, but if it was meant to be, you somehow end up where you had always wanted to go from the start.

And you feel that it’s finally happening for you.

#WritersMonth2020 #poe dameron x reader #past Finn x Reader #background Finn x Rey #poe dameron #past ben solo x reader #star wars imagine #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars #High school reunion au #high school au

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2-fast-2-curious · 5 years

Text

‘Cause Good Ones Never Wait

I think he knows His hands around a cold glass Make me wanna know that Body like it's mine

Summary: Because we all know vacation Laurent is the best Laurent

Words: 1355

Warnings: Daddy Kink, smut

Requests:

Hello, hey hi! I just wanted to say THANKS FOR THE LAURENT STUFF omg there is literally nothing on him here and I’m SO DAMN THIRSTY!! Can I request something along the lines of morning sex or sleepy sex??? Thanks love!

OMG PLEASE GIVE ME MORE BROSSOIT!!! Like literally anything lol.

You were lying on your tummy, soft snores coming from your mouth as you snuggled further into the blankets, a slight smile on your face as you dreamed about Laurent. You weren’t quite sure why you bothered sleeping when your reality was even better. You and your boyfriend were on vacation, your home for the week was a beautiful villa on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Adriatic sea. Last night had exhausted you, you and Laurent had made love outdoors while watching the moonlight dance on the water. The two of you had fallen asleep on the cabana by the pool, your skin still damp. Sometime during the night, Laurent must’ve gone inside and brought blankets and pillows from the living room based on the plushness that surrounded you.

Speaking of Laurent, he was currently sitting on top of the covers giving you kisses on the side of your face, it kind of tickled and you shifted a bit. One of his large hands went to palm your butt and keep you in place.

"Mmm?" You replied slightly groggily.

"Sorry babe, did I wake you?" He asked, pressing himself against you through the blankets. You were both naked from last night and you could feel his erection through the blankets.

You wiggled your butt, grinding yourself against him. “Yeah, but I’ll allow it. What does daddy want?”

Laurent groaned at your pet name for him, pulling the blanket off your bottom, leaving your core fully exposed to the cool morning air. A single digit parted your folds and you could hear his chest hum in appreciation when he felt how wet you were. His digits rubbed you, your wetness audible. “You’re dripping princess, such a good girl, did you make yourself wet thinking about daddy’s cock in your sleep?”

You let out a noise that was a cross between a mew and a moan. You knew if you were going to get what you needed, you had to use your words. “Oh daddy, I got so wet thinking about last night. Thinking about how you ate my pussy last night.”

You signed, thinking back to how Laurent was in the pool while you sat on the edge, your legs spread as his strong tongue massaged your pussy. His strong arms were initially keeping your cunt pressed to his lips but they ended up supporting you and keeping you upright as your body went limp due to his actions. When he was finally finished, you had lost count of how many times you had come. Laurent had to lift you off the pool deck and onto his cock as he carried you to the cabana. Your weak body ended up riding him until he finished inside of you.

Recalling last night only made you wetter, as you felt his fingers stretch your entrance you wondered if he could feel last night’s cum with his fingers. “Looks like you’re ready for daddy’s cock, wouldn’t you say babygirl?”

“Yes, daddy.” You gasped as the rest of the covers are thrown off of you. Laurent’s hands reached down your sides and caressed the sides of your breasts causing you to shiver. He grabbed your thighs and spread them as wide as they would go, giving a swat to both of your jiggling ass cheeks. He kneeled between them, positioning his hard length between your dripping slit. You moaned you felt that familiar stretch that left you gasping for air, he was deep.

If you were at home with neighbours, you might have bit into a pillow to muffle your noises but you didn’t have to worry about this at the villa. His hands were on your hip bones, guiding your silky walls on his cock, drilling into you in a way that found that well-hidden spongy spot inside of your canal. Your bottom half was slightly elevated, due to resting on his thighs and Laurent used that to his advantage, bringing one of his hands to your stomach, near your belly button.

“Do you feel how deep daddy is, princess?” Laurent growled into your ear.

“Oh...oh, so deep.” You replied through the sounds of his hips against your butt.

“I think baby’s gonna cum soon, hmm?” Laurent’s hand left your stomach to travel lower, pushing past your mound to circle your swollen clit. “Do you want daddy to cum with you.”

“Yes, daddy! Please, I want you to cum with me. Fill me with your hot cum.” You felt absolutely euphoric as Laurent continued fucking you into the cabana bed. Your whole body was shaking including your legs but having Laurent’s hips between them kept them spread as he pumped his release into you. Laurent kissed your shoulder blades and across your back as he softened inside you.

Your boyfriend helped you inside and brought you a fresh change of clothes as you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom. Despite the beautiful kitchen you saw on Airbnb, you and Laurent really hadn't made much use of it. Except when he wanted to fuck you on the countertop. Your vacation diet was mostly whatever the small cafe in the village served that day.

You scolded yourself when you felt your panties dampen after seeing Laurent wearing a shirt that showed off his tattoos. You were seriously running low on clean panties. He wrapped his tattooed arm around you as you guys walked down the meandering stone steps to the village. It was partially to be romantic but mostly for safety, the steps were rustic and kind of dangerous but that just added to the charm of being tourists.

Your brunch today was fresh-caught octopus with grilled vegetables and a loaf of bread washed down with some coffee.

"I was thinking we could fish today." Laurent said as he paid the bill.

You and Laurent had rented a boat as part of your vacation for day trips to other nearby islands but you were skeptical. This was the first time you had ever heard him mention anything about fishing in all your years of dating him.

"You mean you could fish." You told him, luckily for you, you had picked up tons of magazines to read during your layover at the airport.

Laurent chuckled. "Yes, I'll fish. We'll be back by late afternoon so we can pick up groceries to go with what we caught."

You were still unconvinced but you and Laurent walked to the marina anyway. "What if you don't catch anything?"

"Then we'll go back to that place we went to the other day with that polenta dish you liked." Laurent helped you into the boat and started the boat.

You watched as the people along the shore got smaller and smaller until the entire island was nothing but a dot on the horizon.

Laurent finally decided that this was the spot and lowered the line into the water. You sat on Laurent lap and read magazines with him. He actually seemed kind of nervous, wasn’t fishing supposed to be relaxing?

Laurent must’ve decided that he needed a new strategy if he was going to catch anything.

"Babe, can you grab me a new hook." He asked, trying to pretend his hand wasn’t tangled up in fish line.

You opened the tackle box and shifted through the hooks, careful not to poke yourself. All of a sudden something sparkly caught your eye, you pulled it out, laying it against your palm.

Laurent picked up the ring from your hand and got down on one knee, the ring looked absolutely doll-sized in his giant hands. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

“Yes, yes, yes!” You pounced on Laurent, the boat rocking slightly from the force.

Laurent slipped the ring onto your finger. It was perfect. Every time a teammate or friend got engaged, he always asked you what you thought of the ring. The ring on your finger was a perfect amalgamation of every one of those discussions. You twisted your hand, admiring how it looked in different light. “I don’t know if I will like calling you daddy or husband better.”

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lassluna · 4 years

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CSJJ 2020 Day 1: Good Times, Bad Decisions

Emma Swan was supposed to go to a Halloween party. It was a set up and she knew it. Honestly, the last thing she wanted to do was go to this party. She was not supposed to end up sleeping with a pirate.

AN: This is my contribution for @csjanuaryjoy 2020! I'm so happy to be apart of this event for the third year in a row. I can't wait to see all the amazing creations this fandom can create! (Title from Bastille, Quarter Past Midnight)

Ao3 FFN

The last thing Emma expected to do was spend Halloween with a pirate she met at a bar.

It had begun with a simple idea, get a drink and text Mary Margret with a quick excuse as to why she wouldn’t be going to her Halloween party. It certainly had nothing to do with the neighbor her childhood friend invited that would supposedly be perfect for Emma.

No not at all.

But it wasn't the first time she'd done so, and Mary Margret had pretty bad taste in men when it came to Emma. Emma had initially reasoned that enough of their friends were going to act as a buffer for whatever low life she'd invited.

But honestly, the last thing she wants to do is spend her evening engaging in small talk and finding delicate ways to let both the guy and her best friend down easy when it came to romance.

Emma didn’t even want a relationship. She'd tried it. Once. It didn't take.

Her plan was going well. She'd gotten her drink, so she was halfway there, but the text message wasn’t going so well. She kept seeing her ecstatic face, how excited she’d been at the prospect and- well she didn’t have a good reason.

Emma had just caught her last skip yesterday, so she had the money to relax for a few days, a fact she'd mistakenly told her friend’s husband, David. She couldn’t help it. He was the cop she handed all her skips to.

So she got another drink, then another, the third purchased by a hot pirate who also seemed to be avoiding something.

(She distantly remembered his phone going off a few times)

By the fourth and fifth, well Emma Swan did have a good reason. She was too busy making out with the hot british pirate in the corner of the bar.

Not that she told Mary Margret that. By that point the keyboard was just a blur. She’d tried sending something, but she knew that whatever garble of a message she concocted was terrible and she deleted it.

"Want to get out of here, love?" He'd whispered in her ear after he'd made her see stars just by sucking at that spot below her collarbone."A nightcap perhaps?" She saw his eyes, blue and absolutely staring right into her soul.

She'd nodded and gone with the pirate to his apartment just down the block.

Sleeping with the pirate on Halloween was one thing she did not regret.

It was filled with more searing kisses and probably was the best sex she’d ever had.

Waking up the next morning with said pirate in his bed was absolutely not the plan. Like, not even remotely in the plan. She didn’t remember how she planned to get home last night, but sleeping over is never the plan. She usually makes plans to avoid that option.

So, in typical Emma Swan fashion, she grabs her clothes, thrown around the room at drink six or seven.

Emma barely takes a glance at the sleeping man in the bed, eye liner running over his face, and still somehow looking too fucking good, before heading towards the exit of the apartment.

She was well prepared to do the walk of shame back to her car, then back to her apartment where she would beg her friend’s forgiveness for completely standing her up.

But well, that was not in the cards because Emma got blasted in the face by gusting winds and snow.

"Fuck." Emma cursed, pulling the door closed as fast as she can. The storm threatened to rip the door off the freaking hinges with its howling.

There was no way in hell Emma was going out in that.

Which led her to her current situation sitting on the bottom of the steps, still in her jeans and hoodie. Clothes not at all appropriate for an absolute blizzard.

Who the hell heard of a blizzard in freaking october?

Climate Change!

The news articles announce as the cause, which honestly more people should pay attention to, but that doesn't at all help Emma's current predicament.

Staying the night was bad enough, but being trapped here was beyond bad. It was terrible. What the hell was she going to say to a man that she'd just slept with and had planned to run out of without a word?

Her phone buzzed in her hand from all the unread text messages.

Emma can you pick up beer?

Don't worry, got some.

Are you coming?

What time are you arriving?

He's here if you're wondering. I promise he's a good guy.

All from Mary Margret. Emma sighs; feeling guilty for not responding.

If you're on your way, don't bother, there's a freak snow storm coming in. We're snowed in, everyone is crashing on the couch, or in our spare bedroom.

This was from David. Emma sighs, knowing that if she was half the friend they were she wouldn't be in this situation.

But at least I'm not bunking with the rando Mary Margret found. Emma thinks.

She's a terrible friend. Absolutely terrible.

"Bloody hell." Says a voice behind her. Emma turns around, and the pirate is there on the bottom level of his apartment bleary eyed and in skull and crossbone boxers. The smeared makeup is mostly gone, as is his shirt.

(even like this, he was absolutely as attractive this morning as last night)

Emma raises a brow. "Seriously taking the pirate thing all the way don't you think?" She asks.

He smirks at her. "I pride myself on my commitment." He tells her. "And I assume you got the same weather alert as I did." Emma nods. "18 inches of snow, who'd a thought?" He asks.

Definitely not her.

"Then let's go back to my apartment to ride it out." He offers. "According to the news, it won't be clear until tomorrow; which means a whole day in the home of a stranger.

Emma hesitates.

"I promise love; I'm still a gentleman, even without the leather." He says with a teasing tilt of his brows.

Emma sighs, because she honestly doesn't have a better option. So, she makes her way back to the apartment she woke up in.

Silently, and still without putting more clothes than his boxers, he proceeds to his kitchen and puts on a pot of coffee.

Next, he goes to his fridge and pulls out a carton of eggs. Emma watches in silence as he methodically makes them both scrambled eggs and toast.

"Cheese?" He asks like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"I typically don't do this you know." Emma blurts out.

"The one night stand?" He asks, glancing back at him.

"The staying the morning after." Emma clarifies. "So don't think that this." She gestures between them and at the eggs for good measure. "Means anything. I would've been gone if it there wasn't a blizzard outside." She assures him. “This is just a one time thing.”

The last thing Emma needs is him getting the wrong idea.

He nods, looking her solemnly. "Of course." He says. Even without the alcohol, Emma swears his blue eyes can still see into her soul. Emma wonders what he sees.

"But that doesnt tell me if you like cheese in your eggs love." He's smirking now. Emma rolls her eyes.

"Who doesn't love cheese?" She asks. Putting her stuff down on the couch nearby. "Now where are your mugs, I think the coffee is ready."

Breakfast is surprisingly easy, the eggs taste good, he has a varied collection of jellies for the toast, and the coffee is already doing its job to combat the hangover induced headache she had woken up with.

"So love." He asks as she stuffs a fork full of eggs in her mouth. "I regretfully have forgotten your name." He says, scratching behind the ear. Emma can already tell that the guy does that when he's embarrassed.

Not that it matters of course.

"Emma." She replies. "And I probably didn't give you my name, or ask yours, I think we had better things on our mind..." She trails off. God she'd been so drunk.

“Or bigger.” He says with another waggle of eyebrows; it makes Emma flush brightly.

“Oh my God.” She moans at his joke. “Do I have to call you Captain Innuendo now?” She says.

"Killian will do just fine." He says with a laugh, standing up to clear their plates. A silence takes over the room, because of course it does.

Because what does one say to a stranger you met in a bar and properly slept with?

"What made you dress like a pirate?" Emma blurts out watching him wash the dishes.

She instantly regrets her question when she sees some serious scarring over his left hand. She vaguely recalls that one of his hands had a hook. It feels insensitive all of a sudden.

It catches him off guard, but that might just be the fact that he’d caught her staring at his hand. He instantly hides it from sight. "I was supposed to go to a costume party." Killian says,

"But soon after I arrived, I learned the hostess was trying to set me up with someone and well..." he says trailing off. "I’d prefer not to have others interfere with my life so much." he reasons, another sheepish smile.

Emma nods in agreement. "I feel the same way. Would you believe my friends were doing the same thing?”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“I’ve always been a bit of an outsider, I’m a glass half empty kind of person. But my friend is convinced that there’s someone out there perfect for me, that I should open my heart to love and romance and all that stuff she loves but...” She trails off.

“Love has been all too rare in your life hasn’t it?” Killian asks. He’s doing it again, that looking-into-your-soul thing. It makes Emma feel a bit exposed. But at the same time, she sees something reflected back to her. A familiar gaze she’s seen all too often.

He laughs, breaking the odd tension.

"Bloody hell, looks like we both dodged a bullet then." He says. "Because as odd as this current situation is, I’d much prefer this than rebuffing the attention of someone while also not insulting my friend..." he says trailing off.

His phone buzzes on the counter. He reaches for it.

"If you excuse me." He says disappearing into the bedroom with his phone. She can hear him talking with his friend, it seems a bit tense if Emmas honest, but thats none of her business.

Rather than eavesdropping Emma surveys the room. Considering Emmas been in Bail Bonds as long as she has, she can tell quite a bit about a man by the condition of his apartment.

Its neat. That’s the first thing she notices; neat and organized. Everything has a place, and everything is returned to its place. His bookcase is full, she notices most of his books are worn from frequent use.

They had eaten on a kitchen island with three chairs, not a dining room in sight.

His couch is of moderate size, but the reclining armchair has more use.

Emma takes him for an orderly person who reads quite frequently; he must even reread his favorites when he’s stressed, cooks for himself but not often for a group. He’s a loner. But not alone.

"Turns out the girl didn’t show either." It makes Emma jump in surprise to see him standing behind her as she snoops. "Sorry love, didn’t mean to spook you." Killian says with another sheepish expression.

It makes Emma wonder about the swagger he had last night. She chalked it up to the rum.

"Wanna watch something?" Killian asks, gesturing to the Tv. Emma nods her head.

“Do you have Netflix?”

They put on a rom-com. Something light and funny, How to lose a guy in 10 days, one of Emma’s favorites.

“Honestly.” Emma says. “They’re both trying so hard to be people they’re not. She’s trying to be terrible, and he’s trying to be perfect.”

Killian shrugs. “It’s definitely funny.”

Once it ends, Killian makes them a frozen pizza while they put on the next movie. Stardust. Emma had never seen it so Killian had insisted.

It was about a boy who was alone, an outcast and a girl desperate to get home, hunted by absolute nutjobs but risk it all for each other.

Honestly, Emma kinda loves it. It also definitely confirms what Emma thought she’d seen in him.

“You were alone too weren’t you?” She asks. He’s not surprised by her comment. Not in the slightest.

“Lost sees lost. That’s what my brother always says.” He murmurs. “My mother died when I was six, our father walked out on us soon after and my brother and I were put in the system until we aged out.”

Emma nods. She understands his lack of details. It’s not someone anyone wants to talk about. “I was abandoned as an infant, maybe hours old.” She replies. “Love’s been all too rare in your life hasn’t it?” Emma repeats. It brings a sad smile to his face. “What are the odds that we’d meet last night?” She asks.

“Perhaps we saw something in each other?” He wonders.

“I’m pretty sure you just thought I was hot.”

“Still think you’re hot.”

Emma laughs, easing back into his couch. It’s comfortable, both the couch and hanging out with this man. It was nice in a way Emma didn’t expect.

They move on from movies to books and he had a lot of books. Emma had fallen a bit behind on reading lately, but considering she had nothing but time today and Killian’s massive library, it felt like a good use of her time.

“How do you have time to read all these books?” Emma asks, flipping through a few to try to decide what to read first. She had Pride and Prejudice in her hand currently.

“I’m a librarian.” He replies with a smile. “So being well read comes with the job.”

She nods. A librarian makes sense for him, considering his books, his quiet sheepish expressions, and his way with words.

(But it didn’t explain the scar on his hand, that was not from a papercut, not that it was any of her business.)

She ends up reading Pride and Prejudice for a bit. She’s definitely beginning to enjoy it, when her phone buzzes in her lap.

Emma, are you alright? The snow is clearing and David’s heading over to you’re apartment. Considering the drunk text you sent me last night, I have a feeling they’re not finding you there...

Emma grimaces. She didn’t remember sending Ruby a text... She scrolls up to see it.

sLeepin wt pirates no paty don be ma.

Yup. Pretty bad.

Instead of replying, she decides to call her friend.

“Well the dead arose.” Ruby snickers as she answers the phone.

“Ha ha.” She says standing up to go to Killian’s bedroom for privacy. “Was Mary Margret mad?” She asks. “I honestly was going to come but...” She says trailing off.

“Nah. You know how she is, forgiving as always. David was a little peeved, the guy left a few minutes in but damn Emma, he was hot with a capital H.” Ruby says. Emma can practically hear the wolfish smirk that was characteristically her. “But what about you? Spend the night with a hot pirate?”

She hums in agreement. “I’m still at his place.” She says. “Got snowed in.”

“Dang! You never stay the night.”

“I never get that drunk. But honestly Ruby, I’m having a good time. It’s strange.” She says. “Like really strange.”

“Oooh.” Ruby says. “What his name? Tell me everything.” She says. But Emma’s not sure. She’s scared that voicing her thoughts into the universe would ruin whatever it was.

She thinks maybe that this isn’t a one time thing.

Then of course, she sees something that ruins everything. Because on Killian’s nightstand was a photo. A beautiful woman with Killian. She was in a wedding dress, he in a tux.

It was a wedding photo.

“Ruby. I have to call you back.”

“You’re not married right?” Emma blurts out. Because there’s no point beating around the bush.

Emma refuses to even consider fantasising about a married man, not that she was fantasizing of course.

She would rather walk back home, than be here another minute if he truly was-

“I was.” He states, not looking up from his book. “She died.” He responds. “Which is why I don’t want my friends to set me up with anyone. Because I know that I won’t find her. The perfect person they want me to find. Because she’s gone.” He’s looking at her now.

All the anger fades from Emma at his words. Because of course he’s not married, or cheating. Of course this good man wouldn’t do that. Not to her, not to the woman that he obviously loved so very much.

“I’m sorry.” she says softly. All of a sudden feeling like the biggest ass in existence.

“Car accident, if you’re wondering, that’s how I got this.” He says lifting his hand, showing off the jagged scar that starts at his wrist and goes up his arm. “I was lucky.”

He says lucky like he doesn’t believe it. “Tell me, have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.” She says softly.

“Then you know that I was anything but lucky that day.”

“I do.” She replies. Because she knows that pain, knows a pain so very similar it hurts just to think about. Like touching an old scab that still stings.

“I was in love once.” She says. “He was everything to me, but it wasn’t-it wasn’t real. He didn’t-” She loses the words. “He didn’t love me like that, he left me and I was...”

Broken

“It’s not the same thing. I know that.” She says. “I know my friends mean well but I can never let anyone hurt me like that again. Ever. But they’re so sure that there’s someone out there, someone who will never leave me, not like everyone else has.”

“But you’re not so sure.” Killian says, he’s standing now and Emma’s not sure when he did that. “I assure you Emma, take it from someone who’s known you only a short time. You are not someone who deserves to be left behind.”

She bites back a gasp at his words.

“And maybe there’s hope for us yet?” Emma responds. He reaches out and hugs her. Then he kisses her and well...

They end up in bed together once more.

The storm stops and reality settles in. It’s time for Emma to go home.

“I never did get to finish this.” She says, putting the book back in his shelf.

Killian smirks at her, he’s in real clothes now, she has on a band T-shirt and sweats. It’s a size too big on her, but it’s a lot warmer. “Keep it.” He assures her. “Keep it as a reminder, that if we can cohabitat for a day, then perhaps...perhaps someday...our friends will no longer need to play matchmaker.”

She smirks at that.

He looks at her for a moment and Emma thinks he's going to ask for more. He's going to ask for something stupid and romantic like an actual date or a kiss in the rain, or any of those chic flic things.

But after everything, a part of Emma wants him to. She wants him to want her to stay, to tell her it wasn't just her, that he felt it too.

The spark, the connection, a kindred spirit in her that just wanted something. That it wasn’t just drunk sex, that it wasn’t just two ships in the night.

And yet, all Killian does is put on a smile, offer out his hand and shake hers.

"It was nice riding out a blizzard with you."

Emma smiles back.

Because of course he doesn't say any of those things. Emma had said herself, that this was a one time thing.

Emma Swan doesn’t do relationships. She'd tried it once and it didn’t take.

It wouldn’t take here either. Not that Emma thought it would.

She walks away from Killian Jones, prepared to never see his smiling face.

The last thing she expects is to see him again on New Years Eve.

Part Two to be released January 30th

#csjj #CS fanfics #captain swan january joy #csjj 2020 #Good Times Bad Decisions

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coneygoil · 4 years

Text

Walking Wounded, part 3

Caryl AU. The waitress at a diner Daryl decides to start frequenting catches his eye, but things are complicated. Now, Daryl is the only thing standing between her and her abusive husband.

Part 1 | Part 2

A pot of grits and some links of deer sausage awaited Carol and her daughter as they emerged from the bedroom the next morning. Daryl gestured to the small, round kitchen table for them to sit and he served them breakfast. Carol sat planted there, wringing her hands in her lap and not knowing how to act. She’d never – not once – had been served breakfast by Ed. Not even on Mother’s Day or her birthday. It felt all kinds of wrong to be the one being served, and she almost couldn’t bare to watch.

“Ran out for a little while to pick up some milk from the Dollar General,” he told her as he pulled out the mix-matched chair across from her. “And some other things you and Sophia may need.” He gestured to the yellow bags on the kitchen counter. “Damn DGs are everywhere these days. Surprised there ain’t one in every yard.”

“Thank you,” Carol gazed at the food like she didn’t know what to do with it, “You didn’t have to. I mean, I don’t have any money to pay you back. Ed never lets me—”

Daryl held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t worry about it. I got enough cash squirreled away to spare some. You and your little girl need things and I’m gonna make sure you have them.”

Daryl switched his attention to Sophia sitting next to him. She hadn’t uttered a word in his presence. Not at the diner nor this morning. She watched him cautiously when he wasn’t looking, but as soon as Daryl turned his attention to her, she’d stiffen and avert her eyes to whatever was below her. Even at 5 years old, she’d learned to not make eye contact with her father, and in doing so, learned to not make contact with any man either. Ed would take it the wrong way – like he thought she was ignoring him -- and whip his belt out. Said she had to learn early how to act properly. All it was doing was training her to be a good whipping post for a man just like her daddy.

“How you this morning, Sophia?” Daryl tried. He was just as gentle with her as he was with Carol. “You sleep good?” When she didn’t respond or look at him, he nodded his head. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk. I ain’t gonna make you.” He pointed to the deer sausage on her plate. “You need to eat. That some good deer. I shot it a couple weeks back. Helps keep my belly full every morning.”

“You said your brother lives here too?” Carol asked. Daryl hummed in reply as he chewed up a piece of sausage. “What’s his name? I can’t remember it.”

“Merle,” Daryl sat back, hoping his brother’s sabbatical would be longer than usual. Merle was going to give him hell for bringing a married woman and her kid into their Dixon boys’ abode. “He’s my older brother. 8 years older. We’ve lived on and off with each other our whole lives. He’s really all I got.”

“He won’t mind us being here?” Carol’s concern was written all over her face. She’d met Merle three or four times, but judging by how he talked, Merle didn’t seem like the most pleasant person to be around.

“Whether he minds or not, he’s not gonna have a say. He’s the one always gone off doing his own thing while I’m here. I think I have more a say so than him. You and your little girl need a place to stay more than he does anyways.”

Carol bristled. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You’re not. Don’t think you are.”

All the reassurance Daryl had given her in the last several hours hadn’t soaked in. Carol had been conditioned to think herself a burden and his words weren’t penetrating that steel wall. She still felt like bolting right out the door.

Sophia had finally begun to move in her spot. She sipped at her glass of milk before taking a merger spoonful of grits. Carol worried most for her daughter. The child had witnessed more violence in her short 5 years than one person did in a lifetime. Their sudden departure was only going to fuel Ed’s anger like gasoline on fire. How would they survive this?

***

After breakfast, Daryl drove them to pick up Carol’s car to bring back to the trailer. Carol was close to spilling tears when she heard her car had been towed away by Ed. He was a lazy son of gun, but when it came to spite, he had all the energy in the world. The loss of Carol’s car was a huge blow. As they made their way back to the trailer, Daryl could tell she was trying to hold back tears as she squashed Sophia to her side.

She didn’t have a vehicle. Not even a car seat for Sophia. No clothes. Possessions. Money. Nothing. It visibly crushed her like a 1000-pound weight.

When they arrived back at the trailer, Daryl quietly asked Carol to talk with him in the bedroom while Sophia watched tv in the living room. Sophia’s eyes widen as big as saucers in alarm, but Carol assured her that Daryl wasn’t like her daddy. Mommy is safe with him. Daryl had to take a deep breath at the very thought that this poor girl had to be told that.

Carol followed him into his bedroom after getting Sophia settled. Her skittishness had come back tenfold as he shut the door behind them.

“Have you thought about going to a women’s shelter?” Daryl regretted the question the moment the words tumbled from his mouth.

A deep frown line creased Carol’s brow. “I did. Several months back. They couldn’t do much more than give me housing. A few necessary items. Ed found us.” Her voice cracked, and Daryl could see a slew of memories playing out behind her eyes. “He caught us on the street. He brought us back home. He did this to me.” Carol pulled up her sleeve to reveal a burn mark just below the back of her left shoulder. “Made me swear I’d never leave like that again. I was his and had no right to go. I swore, because if I didn’t, I knew he would go after Sophia. He never threatened to, but I knew he would.”

Daryl’s chest tightened like a bow sting with every new horrifying reality that she shared. Behind his own eyes, memories of childhood played out. He shook himself free before he could dive too deep within them. This wasn’t about his past life. This was about the gentle, soft-spoken woman standing in front of him that didn’t have a damn person on her side in the entire world.

If he thought about it – really made himself think – he didn’t have anyone either. Merle was all he had, and Daryl didn’t even have him more than half the time. Carol and her daughter needed somebody on their side. Who the hell cared if he would make it his mission to save her? Maybe in the process, she’d somehow save him too. But, that wasn’t anything to think about right now. She was still married to a bastard that needed to be eliminated from her life.

“Then, it’s settled.” Daryl nodded his point. “You and Sophia are staying here.”

“Daryl—” she wanted to protest again. Claim she was a burden. He didn’t want to hear that bull from her.

“You’re staying and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Crossing arms across her chest like a shield, Carol could only nod in agreement. Daryl’s fight depleted somewhat at the sight of her, realizing what he may sound like to her, no matter how softly he spoke his words.

“But,” he feared for what his next statement would bring, “if you want to go, you can go. Not gonna keep you here.” Daryl’s eyes fixed upon hers. He shook his head. “Not like him.”

Carol offered him a small but genuine smile. “I know.”

***

There was a war raging in Carol’s head. Part of it was trying desperately to convince her to return to Ed. She’d take the beating he’d dish out. She’d end up with a busted face and a broken bone or two. Maybe another burn mark to decorate her shoulder. She’d promise to never leave him again. She’d sob and paw at his legs like the pathetic creature he claimed she was. If she begged enough, threw herself at his mercy, maybe he wouldn’t lay a hand on Sophia.

The other part of her was screaming to keep as far away as possible. Daryl was only a customer at a greasy spoon of a diner she worked at. To most, he was plainly a redneck with not much education behind him. Carol saw that he was remarkably so much more than his outward appearance. Every visit to the diner, he’d treated her with the utmost respect and kindness. He proved to her that there were good men out there. She craved more of that goodness.

When he told Carol she could go if she wanted to – back to Ed in her mind-- she fought with the overwhelming need of what she’d been conditioned to do for the last 10 years of her life. She kept her gaze steady on Daryl, fought the secret battle, and won. She would stay with him. She would accept the protection of his wings and care that he generously gave.

They spent most of the day in the trailer. Sophia seemed content to watch tv and color in her coloring book when she was tired of the screen. Carol couldn’t sit still for long. She felt awkward cleaning up another person’s home, but she had to do something to keep her hands busy and her mind off things. While Daryl was out on the small front porch smoking, she dove into cleaning the kitchen. She paused when he walked back in and questioned silently if it was okay when she made eye contact with him. Daryl shrugged a shoulder giving the okay and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I don’t think it’d be smart to stop by your old man’s house for your things right now,” Daryl voiced his concern.

Carol felt absolutely gross in the clothes she’d worn for 24 hours. She needed a good showering and fresh clothing. Thankfully, she had been able to wipe off the night before. Sophia needed to be clean as well. The girl would develop a yeast infection if she didn’t change her underwear soon.

“We can go to the thrift store up on Pearl St. Been there before. They got decent stuff. Nothin’ stained or torn. Stop by the DG on the way back. Get you and Sophia some underclothes.”

Carol paused from wiping the counter. She’d already scrubbed the stove, wiped down the outside of the refrigerator, and washed and tucked away the dishes and pots from breakfast and lunch. Daryl hadn’t commented about her tidying up his home. She had his unspoken blessing to do what she wanted to do, she guessed.

“Daryl—” She had to question it again. She had to hear his explanation once more to convince her. “Why are you doing this for us? Why do you care so much? I mean, you don’t even know me.”

Daryl fixed her with his narrow gaze. “I know you’re someone that needs help. Let me ask you this, Carol—”

A flutter climbed in her chest at the sound of her name across his lips.

“Has anybody helped you before? Has anybody bothered to ask you if you were okay when there was a shiner blinding like the sun on your face?”

She averted her eyes to the floor and swallowed before answering. “No.”

He pushed off the chair and stepped up to her. “That’s why I’m helping you.” He swallowed loudly, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. “That’s why I care. It’s up to you what you do with it. Take it or leave it.”

Carol mulled over his words. It was nearly impossible to believe someone could possibly care for her. She had to chip away the wall Ed erected so strongly inside her head. She had to start today if her and Sophia were to ever have a future. She drew in a deep breath and laid the dishrag over the sink to dry, hoping her words would be answer enough. “Whenever you’re ready to go to the thrift store.”

#caryl #twd: caryl #twd fanfiction #caryl fanfiction #daryl x carol #walking wounded

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mrs-geuse · 5 years

Text

Patience (Hank Anderson x Reader)

@hot-and-spiceyyy requested: “Oh your writing is amazing! Can you maybe do a little fluffy but slightly steamy imagine of Reader trying to get some alone time with Hank after taking care of their son so Connor comes to take Sumo and the son on a little play date with Alice and Kara and then reader taking this opportunity to get some with her husband( shes 4 months preggo and has a high libido). I’m sorry if that’s a lot but I’m not so creative to write such an idea so definitely here for ideas and support for your writing!❤️””

Pairing: Hank Anderson x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, soft NSFW.

The waiting was driving you crazy. Don’t take it wrong – you loved afternoons making lunch together: your son’s ridiculous outbursts, watching Hank’s greedy fingers swiping food from the plate to munch on while he waited, Sumo’s constant need for attention. But today was the first day in the last sixteen – yes, sixteen – that you and Hank would get to be alone.

Connor had offered to take your son and Sumo out to meet with Alice and Kara for a little play date. You and Hank jumped at the offer. Connor planned to come pick him up after lunch and you found yourself hurrying to get food ready in time.

“You still want the crust cut off?” you asked.

“Yes, mom!” your son replied, popping a green grape into his mouth and making a face. “This stuff’s gross!” he spit it in his napkin.

“Yeah, I know, but your mom’s trying to set you with good habits, son. You don’t wanna end up like your dad,” Hank grabbed his paunch.

You inhaled sharply at the look of him, fingers gripping his belly, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. You shot him a glance and Hank’s face went from humor to curiosity to a knowing look. You bit your lip, eyes tracing over his body.

Placing the plate in front of your son you watched him waste no time biting into the sandwich, completely ignoring the fruits.

“And for you, big guy?” you eyed Hank.

“Oh, nothin’…” he looked up. “I’ll just have a bit of you!” Hank reached out to grab around your waist, pulling you into him and peppering kisses on your neck. You laughed, pressing your forehead against his as he placed a hand on your belly. “What’s this? You’ve brought a guest?”

“You’re awful,” you shushed him away.

“What’s that, little one?” Hank leaned down to press his ear to your belly. “You think Daddy should have chips?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, humored by the laughter coming from your son; completely egging on Hank’s antics.

“Chips and what else?” you sigh, smiling at your son watching the whole scene play out.

Suddenly Hank sat up, expression blank. “The baby just said ‘chips’. Guess I’ll take the whole bag, baby’s orders…”

Your eyes widened as he scooted the chair back, lifting you off his lap to squeeze passed you to run for the chip bag. Your son’s boisterous laughter got Sumo’s attention and he came in to bark at the two of you running around the kitchen.

“You snot!” you grabbed him around the middle, pressing yourself against him in a rueful attempt at getting the chip bag back. You knew he’d eat the whole thing. “I’ll make you a sub!” you suggested.

“Oh?” his voice was quiet against your ear, voice deep and tantalizing. Your breath caught in your throat. “That would be…interesting…”

His tone made you suddenly see the double entendre he picked up on. You found yourself leaning into him more, a flutter in your core igniting a deep need in you.

The doorbell rang then and your son announced “I’ll get it!” as he took off to greet your guest: Connor more than likely.

“I thought we’d just sleep tonight…put on a movie…but I see that you have other plans, Mrs. Anderson.” You felt the need to clench your thighs together at the deep voice, the seductive way he was speaking to you. Hank kissed your cheek then turned to the living room. “Connor! How are ya?”

You breathed shakily, hand coming to your belly as you glanced down. Lately these pregnancy hormones were overwhelming. Just a few nights ago you’d woken Hank up at 3 am because you needed him.

“Connor’s gonna take me to the park and I get to see Alice!” your son ran back in the room, scarfing down the rest of his sandwich before wiping his face off and dropping the napkin.

He ran to grab his shoes from the foyer.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” you asked before he ran toward Connor.

“Oh! Right. Bye mom,” he came over to kiss your cheek. “Bye baby,” he kissed your belly.

You followed him into the living room to greet Connor and hand over Sumo’s harness and leash.

“Y/n, good to see you. You’re absolutely glowing,” he acknowledged.

“Hey, stop flirting with my wife,” Hank teased.

“Kara plans on making dinner for us so we may be back closer to 7. Is…that alright, Mrs. Anderson?”

You nodded. “Thanks for taking them, Connor. Call if they get to be too much and we’ll come get them.”

“I am certain we’ll be fine.” Connor struggled with Sumo’s harness so Hank stepped in to help. Watching his hands work was distracting.

When they were ready, they said their goodbyes and Hank stepped out onto the front porch. He stood there, watching as they made their way down the street. You noticed his forearm flexing as he held onto the open door.

“Hank…” you hummed, excited to be alone.

“Patience…” Hank responded softly, unmoving, and you knew he was fucking with you.

“Hank!” you almost whined, feeling needy. He pretended to be paying attention outside still, a smirk plastered on his face. “Hank Anderson if you don’t get in here right now and-” he cut you off by slamming the door, locking it, taking two long strides toward you, and firmly pressing his mouth to yours. You melted.

“Couldn’t wait any longer, hm?” he chuckled. You shook your head, working on lifting off his shirt. “Shit, babe, take a breath.” You playfully glared before removing his shirt. “Or not.”

He shrugged, smirking as you pulled him toward your bedroom, closing the door out of habit.

Hank had you naked in seconds and you ogled as he fidgeted with his pants. You were practically shaking at how excited you were as he kicked off his pants and climbed on top of you, hand tracing up your bare thigh.

Gasping, you felt his beard on your skin as he kissed your belly then up between your breasts. Your fingers snuck beneath the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down in an awkward movement. He smiled against you, kicking the clothing off.

“God damn, woman…” he groaned before pressing his tip to your wet entrance.

When he filled you completely you wanted to weep. Grasping at his shoulders, you kissed him fervently as he started a slow pace into you.

The afternoon progressed like this, both of you enjoying each other and for once getting to take your time in the bedroom. You napped in between rounds one and two. Post round two, laying there holding each other for a half hour was necessary; his strong, rough hands stroking your shoulder as he clasped your body close to him. The rumble of his voice almost lulled you to sleep as he talked about your son's t-ball game that morning. Once you heard his stomach growl you knew Hank needed to eat or he would never get it up for round three.

Standing in the kitchen wearing one of his Detroit Police shirts you couldn’t help but laugh at the exhausted man leaning in the doorway, boxers hung low on his hips.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Some elaborate scheme you and Connor concocted? He becomes surrogate dad to my children once I croak from too many orgasms? Do you know how old I am?”

You licked dressing off your fingers from the subs you promised you’d make.

“I dunno, big boy, you seem to be handling yourself pretty well.”

He simply stared at you, eyelids heavy, sweet smile on his lips. He looked so handsome happy.

“You really expect more from me?” he pushed off from the wall, lazily coming to the table to sit beside you.

Nodding, you swallowed the first bite of your dinner. “Hour nap and you were ready to go last time. Food’ll do you some good.”

Hank raised a brow at you then shook his head.

“Am I dreaming this or is it really happening?” at his question you just shook your head and bit into the sub again. “You mean I didn’t get dropped into some fuckin’ porno?”

“Most vanilla porno I’ve ever seen,” you commented.

After you ate you realized how tired you actually were. Your knees were sore, your elbows rug burned, yet you still had this hunger for your husband that wasn’t satisfied.

Hank looked up from his last bite, mouth full. You wondered how you got so lucky.

Standing from the table you took both plates to the sink to wash, mind focused on something else for the first time in hours.

When you felt Hank’s arms wrap around you, you smiled. His large hands rest on your bump beneath his Detroit Police shirt. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, rubbing his hands over your bump then up to your breasts. The few quiet moans that left you made Hank groan against your skin, his facial hair adding a nice sensation.

You felt Hank press his hips against you.

“See?” you whipped around when you were done with dishes, drying your hands with the towel before running your fingers down his torso to his hardened dick.

Hank shook his head then moaned at the sensation of your hands on him again. “Miracles do happen, y/n.” his deep chuckle made you feel heated. “We haven’t had this much sex since we were trying for this little one,” he nodded toward your belly. “Now, shall we proceed to the bedroom, m’lady, so we can continue fucking until we’re interrupted?”

You loved his dirty mouth when it was just the two of you.

“Patience,” you joked, quoting him from earlier.

He lightly smacked your ass. “Get yer ass in that bedroom, Mrs. Anderson, or I’ll grab that bag of chips and eat the whole fuckin’ thing.”

Laughing, you kissed him deeply before making your way back to the bedroom to hopefully satisfy your needs until you could be alone again.

#hank anderson x reader #hank anderson dbh fic #hank anderson dbh #detroit become human #detroit become human connor #hank anderson #hank anderson reader insert

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lovelyirony · 5 years

Text

Dads Not Required

where it all started

Maria Stark hated writing her name. Maria Stark. Maria Stark. Maria Stark. It was everywhere. It was suffocating. It reminded her of a life that she hates living. Being the wife of Howard Stark. Wrapped up in the latest fashions, pointiest shoes, the sharpest lipstick. The kind smiles, graceful and unfeeling. The cold she felt when looking at her son, who she knew deserved better. Call it mother’s intuition. Call it common sense.

Dinner was always silent. Well, not completely silent. The murmuring of Howard on the phone talking to business associates from the far end of the table. Maria’s utensils clinking against the plate. A sip of water. Tony asking to be excused. The same thing. Over. And over. Maria stares up at the stars and wonder why she sacrificed everything for a man who never loved her. It was so that she could move up in the chain. She had wanted more, but that—that was a mistake. She wanted to get away from her family. Because of everything. Mainly because of something Howard never knew.

She liked women. She did. Knew about it since she was eighteen, but was scared of it. Her father was a dangerous man. He would have kicked her out of the house. Everyone she knew would have stopped talking to her. So she stayed quiet, smiled about boys, and married Howard Stark. “You can’t do better than him,” her mother said. She looks sad. As if she knows why her daughter is not smiling while she slips on a blue garter and stares solemnly into the mirror.

Tony is made out of desperation. Maria has to make a baby.

But she loves him so much after he’s born. She loves him so much that she finally understands why she would stay with Howard if it meant she was never in love. For Tony, she will stay. For her bambino, she would stay. He had her eyes and her hair and her laugh and the only thing he had that wasn’t hers was his nose. Thank god.

Maria doesn’t sleep with her husband. Ever. She has her own room where she hangs up paintings of flowers and Howard scoffs at the jeans in her closet. “Ladies don’t wear that shit,” he says. “Throw it out.”

She doesn’t. She stuffs it farther in the closet, tries not to cry because she’s a lady, and makes sure that her mascara is as Fine as She Is. Because Everything is Fine.

Tony jumps grades. He’s in eighth grade and he’s barely eight. Maria argues with Howard about it, but he says that genius is put to waste. She knows that. They could get him some tutors or something. Have him take advanced classes while still being in the same grade. Tony doesn’t make friends easily. It takes time, and Howard acts like there’s no time at all for this. Tony sits in his classes all alone, and Maria goes to the parent-teacher conferences. They look at her with pity. They think she doesn’t get it. But she does.

Howard drinks. More and more. He builds up a tolerance for alcohol, and he hates it. He says things to Maria. Awful things that she will never repeat or want to think about.

She buys concealer. Tries to find a brand to endorse. They all work about the same in shade coverage. She dabs more of it on. Washes her brushes at the end. Stares in the mirror and reminds herself why it’s all worth it when she sees one of Tony’s fingerprints on her vanity.

She wears her hair in a braid once around the house. It’s a French braid, mainly to make sure that she keeps her hair out of her face while she’s baking. Howard tells her that it looks stupid. She puts her hair in barrettes and smiles and bakes a cake that ends up half-burnt. “We have staff for a reason,” Howard says. “You’d think I don’t pay a chef to do things like this so you don’t ruin things.”

“Of course,” Maria responds.

The cake never gets done. She sits in her bedroom with her hands around her knees and wonders how life would go if she just left. Tony is growing up, learning that family isn’t a word that he knows at all. Just two older people, one being his mother and the other being a man who is supposed to be his dad. But god, there is nothing fatherly about Howard Stark.

Tony’s the one who suggests it. Howard had been a shit father and a shit husband. “Don’t use the word ‘shit,’” Maria says.

“You were thinking it.”

“I know.”

She thinks about it. They would have so much legal trouble. Howard would want to keep Antonio like he was a prize. Make sure his precious heir could never leave and would stay with the company. Maria refuses to stand for it.

Maria Stark smears on make-up as if it’s war paint. She makes sure her eyeliner stays sharp, lips poised for pity. She keeps the concealer thin to highlight the impressionist painting on her skin. Maria Stark walks into court.

Maria Carbonell walks out into the sunshine with mascara slightly smudged and hair in a ponytail. Howard Stark is left behind seething. No custody. Nothing besides child support and maybe a birthday card if he remembers. Howard is never good at remembering personal details. He always forgot her birthday. She celebrated with a glass of wine and her son. She is thirty-eight, and she is independent for one of the first times in her life.

Moving is scary. But she finds an apartment in Brooklyn, a place Howard won’t touch with a hundred-foot-pole. He hates Brooklyn, can’t stand being anywhere besides Manhattan. Maria carries boxes up with Tony and fits a key into a door that looks like it could do with a bit of retouching. Tony promises to work on it even though she doesn’t exactly say anything about it.

She cries in her bedroom. It’s all…clear now. What a terrible person Howard was. How lucky she is that the court let her take Tony with her. How quickly Howard would ruin her if he ever got it into his mind while sober.

Tony suggests it first. He had heard about some of his classmates going to thrift shops for clothes, and Tony had even done it as well, although not with the same frequency. He had money, he could buy clothes that he liked. Now though, it might be a good idea. His mom needed new clothes; the dresses, the pearls, the fancy diamonds were all Howard. Tony knew her jeans were in the back of the closet at home. She had taken them with her.

She finds sweatshirts that are obviously from the eighties with teddy bears on them and flowers and she loves them. She finds t-shirts at other stores that she thinks are funny. Tony sneaks in a purchase that she doesn’t notice and waits.

For dinner, she fixes pasta. “I haven’t cooked in years,” Maria says. “We had ‘staff’ to do that.” Tony nods. He’s moving schools tomorrow, at both his and Maria’s request; high school. He would have been in college perhaps, if he had been with Howard. But he needs to be around people his own age. Besides, it’ll be better to go to school as Tony Carbonell. The last name sounds much softer on the tongue than the last one.

The pasta tastes better than any Michelin-rated restaurant could fix. Tony grins at his mother as they both forgo eating the noodles properly and instead just use their fork and get sauce on their chins. Tony talks to Maria. The dinner is not silent. It’s filled with laughter and smiles and conversation, finally. Maria feels as if she’s on top of the world as she does the dishes and Tony cleans up the table that’s a little rickety. Maria plans to go shopping for placemats tomorrow and make this home her own.

“Hey mom?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“I, um, I got you something.” It’s wrapped in newspaper, the comics section. Maria smiles at her son as she carefully unwraps it.

It’s a pair of smiley face earrings. They were obviously used, not bought new at all. They look so happy, and the pair is something Maria Stark would never be caught dead wearing. But Maria Carbonell likes being happy and wearing fun things, like sweaters with teddy bears on them and flowers. So she smiles at her son and hugs him. “Thank you, Antonio.”

Sarah Rogers knew that greeting new neighbors was imperative because a.) She liked making new friends, and b.) Sarah knew how hard it was on a move. She had moved to the apartment when Joseph had died, and had had no one besides her son for a couple months until Winnie Barnes moved in with Bucky. Bucky and Steve were now thicker than thieves, even if Bucky was away at college now.

She visits at noon exactly with a plate of cookies in her hand. The plate has a nice blue decoration on it. She’s pretty sure that the new neighbor, by the looks of her, will return the plate. She had come into her apartment in a dress and sweater and nice shoes.

The woman who greets her is wearing Keds, jeans, and an oversized sweatshirt that has birds all over it. It’s a nice look. “Hello, I’m Sarah Rogers,” Sarah says. “And I wanted to welcome you into our building. Mind if I set these down?” New neighbor looks nervous.

An hour later, they’re laughing so hard their sides hurt about their boys. “So Tony—he wasn’t allowed to be out of his room past eight on school nights—is peeking out at the dinner party with one toe in his room and a grin on his face, and oh, I was so embarrassed about it!” Maria exclaims. “He always bends the rules.”

“Have I told you about the time that Steve nearly fell from the window because he was so stubborn?” Maria cracks up.

Sarah and Maria leave to pick up their sons from high school. They walk together, still talking and laughing about their children.

Steve walks out to see his mom standing next to a woman who is wearing an old sweater and has her hair in a low ponytail. He smiles as he comes up to them. “Hey mom,” he says. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Maria Carbonell, our new neighbor,” Sarah says. “Her son Tony is in your class.” Steve nods. There are always a few new people in class, so he’ll have to see if he recognizes Tony. Maria smiles warmly at Steve.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says.

“Likewise,” Steve responds in kind. “You liking the apartment so far?” She beams.

“We’re loving it. I think I’m getting plants to put near the window tomorrow.” They stand around a bit more; Steve checks the message from Bucky. It’s just a meme about college life, so Steve rolls his eyes and sends back “lmao” and puts his phone away to meet the eyes of the most gorgeous guy he’s seen.

He’s wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, his hair is the slightest bit curly, and he has a smile that looks like sunshine. “Hey mom,” he says. “School was good.” So. That’s Tony. How interesting. Sarah shares a look between Maria and Tony. It looks like their boys might want to get to know each other better.

The walk is pleasant. Tony has a lot to talk about. Steve thinks the way that Tony articulates his stories with his hands. He’s talking about his engineering class, and how he’s going to be building a type of robot for his final. Steve talks about his art, and Tony is enraptured in noticing how Steve has paint stains on his hand and what to looks to be a hastily-covered up rendition of a dick on his arm.

“That’s Clint,” Steve says. “He’s funny.” Tony nods. He hasn’t really made any friends yet, so he hopes that Steve counts as one. The boys talk about other interests. Steve really likes listening to his mom’s old records that have scratchy rhythms and clear vocals. Tony likes a lot of classic rock music and can’t stand classical music.

“I like words with my music,” Tony says. Steve nods. (He may or may not write that down while he’s sketching a messy-looking Tony in a sweatshirt with a small smile on his face later.) Steve says that if he had to choose his favorite genre, then it’s probably music that they play at coffee shops. Tony laughs at that, and Steve feels a little bit lighter for it.

Maria smiles as she sees the boys talking and laughing. “When’s the last time you went on a date?” Sarah asks. “Like a real date?” Maria thinks. Thinks some more. Then answers after a minute:

“Never.” Sarah blinks. She decides not to question this, because that’s opening a can of worms that she shouldn’t have access to this early in the friendship.

“Wow, okay. Here I thought I was going to win the competition with me not dating in ten, but it’s clear that you came to conquer.” Maria laughs, blush settling on her cheeks.

“My husband and I just…were. I guess. I was supposed to marry, so I did. But I’ve never really dated anyone.”

“Any guy you ever wanted to date?” Sarah asks.

“Girl,” Maria murmurs. “There were girls I wanted to date.” Sarah blinks.

“Cool. What was her name?”

“Caroline. She was in my freshman class in high school and she always had the prettiest eyes.” Sarah smiles at her new neighbor, who already deserves more than the world has given her thus far. Maria is relieved that Sarah doesn’t say anything. That she isn’t judgmental, and Maria goes to the bathroom to dab at her eyes a little bit before going back to sit with Sarah and ask her what she thinks of trying new recipes out that they have no idea how to cook.

Time passes. Sarah and Maria become fast friends. School passes. By the time they get to November, Sarah and Maria have a glass of wine together, put a sitcom on TV for ambience, and talk about their lives. They know more about each other; Sarah’s husband died while serving, and they never got him back. Just the medals. Sarah wonders if it would be worth it to date a man again. Maria tells about how she always liked girls, but could never date a girl because she would have been killed for it. She married Howard because she thought it was her best option. It wasn’t. But they’re stronger and wiser now, and they have a bond that cannot be broken.

“I have a bet for you,” Sarah says, slightly buzzed. “I have not been on a date in a decade. You haven’t been on a date in, like, ever. So. We’re in a competition now.” Maria raises an eyebrow.

“The stakes?” Sarah grins.

“My waffle maker.”

Sarah Rogers had the best waffle maker this side of New York. She had stolen it from a hipster on a subway station after he had tried to steal some old lady’s purse. Sarah didn’t have a problem with confrontation, or not returning items to owners who were less-than-deserving. Point is, the waffle maker had made the waffles golden brown always, crisp on the outside, and was easier to clean than some of the other ones.

Maria loved the waffle maker, and had been researching the make and model online only to find that there was a limited run and finding one that’s under one hundred dollars is impossible. (But Sarah and Maria have an open-door policy for their apartments, so it’s not like it makes a difference.)

“Deal,” Maria says, shaking Sarah’s hand. “If you get a date before me, you keep it. But if I get a date, then I get the waffle maker.” Sarah snorts.

Steve and Tony can hear the conversation over their algebra homework. “They’re such nerds,” Tony says with a laugh. “My mom has cried about that waffle maker.”

“My mom cried over a picture of a dog. I guess they’re both just weird.” Steve smiles as Tony laughs. His laugh sounds nice, actually. Better than some.

It turns out that if Maria would just look around, she would notice that there are plenty of women who are giving her looks and stares and open-mouthed-gazes-of-awe, but Maria Carbonell is one oblivious son of a bitch. Sarah groans as she sees Maria pass yet another possible candidate. She sighs as she realizes that she’s going to have to do this herself which is daunting. But not as bad as working retail on Black Friday, so it’s manageable.

#so tumblr fucking ate this because i can't find it #but they can't kill me yet #lovelyirony writes #dads not required #this is the first part of it #i love them!!!!#maria carbonell #sarah rogers #tony stark #steve rogers #dnr #listen: i love them

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thelostandforgottenangel · 5 years

Text

Happy Birthday Ashley

I love you sis and hope you adore this as much as I did writing it - really wanted this to be an RP with us but time got away from me and I got to feeling unwell so instead here is your own B-Day story from me and Donatello with a present from both of us

Before the sun had even come up Donatello pulled himself out of bed begrudgingly wanting to stay beside his beautiful wife for the rest of the morning having been at the cabin for months he had spoiled himself in getting to sleep in and cuddle with her on the days he didn't have to be up for training; this was one of those weeks but for her special day he needed to get a head start.

After gently kissing her head he silently stepped over checking on his daughters who were still fast asleep after wanting to play all night with Daddy, they had passed out while he was reading them one of their favorite stories so for the first night in a while he had been able to sleep in his bed comfortably with his love in his arms, a soft kiss to both of their tiny heads he finally accepted he had to get going before getting dressed to finish his present to her

Her birthday was one of the most important days he was happy to overdue and spoil her for, of course this year hasn't gone as planned having strategically set into motion a surprise birthday party he had been doing his best to hide what he was plotting even out right lying to her into thinking he had forgotten her birthday and a few days prior to his dismay she had wound up in tears crying her eyes out thinking he could have possibly forgotten the one day he thanked god for

As if he would ever forget

But despite the tiny setback he had gone all out getting up extra early to finish his secret project out in the barn where he had kept her away from religiously telling her it was too dusty and dangerous for her and their unborn son, it had become piled up since the family had got their months ago after fleeing from New York

Two hours later Casey had made his way into the barn looking half asleep carrying his shirt along with a giant thermos of coffee for Donatello and his own cup of steaming brew in what looked like the teenagers favorite mug to help out his friend with his wife's big present

Already he could sense there was going to be a fight when she realized it was gone

Casey could get on his nerves and tended to be a pain in the butt when he was bored but on the limited things he could trust the human man with this was the most important, had not only gone searching for the perfect specimen for this project he had helped Donnie scour the junk yards in town miles away until they had everything they would need and had been helping him either repair and put together his surprise or distracting the woman it was for while he worked

Twenty minutes after he had hooked up everything checked the fluids and did a triple checked for all the parts it was finally done and ready for later tonight recovering it with a tarp before daring to head inside the house

His next step had been to go in and clean up quickly before heading to the kitchen making his wife's favorite breakfast with a cup of her favorite tea. To top it off he had even gone so far as to go out in the yard and pick a beautiful bouquet of fresh morning wildflowers just for her arranging them in order then placing them in a vase of water to keep them from weathering

Hearings the girls fussing made him hurry picking up the tray of hot food making sure to only put a good portion knowing how she could be in the mornings and not wanting to make her sick before hurrying back to their room almost bumping into the angel who was heading to her room with both of the twins cuddled against her still looking sleepy, she turned giving him a wink silently letting him know she had them before he went to his love

The wildflowers were placed on her side in the center of the nightstand and the food safely placed upon his before he climbed back in bed curling against her his arms found their way around her waist

He didn't hesitate to nuzzle and kiss along her neck and cheek as he snuggled in closer pressing their bodies close "Ashy~ Happy Birthday my Queen it's time to get up" his soft-spoken words into her neck only received a irritated groan as the redheaded woman tried to move away from him wanting to sleep longer. It didn't work, he was quick in holding her tight continuing to be affectionate by kissing and lovingly nipping at her soft skin, one hand rubbing her belly while the other played with her hair "So stubborn~"

He had known there was usually little that could get her up nowadays having been so tired and the baby wearing her out further, he gently turned the woman’s body over pulling her against his chest plate before kissing her lips softly, a groan leaving her as he deepened the kiss

His hands traveled over her curves and caressing or squeezing anywhere they stopped before he had to break away leaving her breathing fast as he moved to her neck his teeth scraping the smooth skin before he was teasing the top of her shirt gently kissing her chest "Come on - get up or your breakfast is going to get cold"

Her tiny hands grabbing the top of his chest plate and pulling him forward again lead to a heated needy make-out session where he had been moments from giving her an early present before getting himself under control panting out his frustration loving how this woman could get him going without trying

He finally just pulled her up into his lap before placing the food in front of her playing with her neck as she ate her breakfast for once surprised she had eaten every bit, but once the tray of dishes was moved to the side it was quick to be noticed her hunger didn't end with food.

He chuckled and she turned around giving him that irresistible smile and she straddled his lap being pulled forward into a deep kiss by the genius turtle who couldn’t get enough of her churring softly under his breath as he cradled her to him

He had planned the day out, every single moment was supposed to be set in stone but as always his wife knew how to fluster him and get her way

God he loved that about her

In the next second his arm was around her waist resting against her back and his fingers were tangled in her wild red curls pulling her fully against him but being gentle of her belly, Donatello seized her lips under his kissing her hard and heatedly deciding instantly she needed a little something extra to her morning

Ever so carefully the turtle started pulling her clothes from her gently breaking the kiss as he pulled her night shirt off but she brought him back giggling at how willing he was being, she was going to have to get dressed in a moment so why not help her out of them, a grin forming on his lips the moments his Queen was bare to his eyes in all of her beauty

His movements were slow and focused keeping her pleasure over his as he kissed his way over her body, she was in charge and her soft mews was his direction going slow and gentle in first bringing her pleasure with his mouth then with his body, slowly the turtle made love to his woman adoring the soft sounds she was making as she begged for more, his thrust gentle yet powerful hitting all her spots easily marking her, claiming her fully as they both came undone taking her completely as she had pleaded both moaning out their finish until they laid on the bed together breathing hard and thoroughly sated for now

He pulled her against him once he was laid on the bed where they stayed like that together for what felt like ever and a day, sharing sweet words and kisses in the tangled up covers that surrounded them until Donatello slowly removed himself from her arms, her cute groans told him she wanted him to stay but a sweet kiss to her lips silenced her dispute seeing her eyeing him as he pulled his pants back on and wrapping her beautiful body in one of their sheets, gently lifting her into his arms carrying her to the bathroom where he ran her a relaxing hot bath adding in some bath salts and soothing therapy oils Leonardo had given his mate for Christmas only joining her in the oversized tub upon her repeated request wanting her husband to hold her while he was gently washing away the overpowering smell of sweat, sex, and him leaving in its wake the sweet scent of apples from her body wash floating in the air, his favorite part was carefully washing and untangling her soft hair before he was marking her with his scent once more worshipping his love

His rough yet gentle hands drifted over her thighs and up to her belly cradling it while she soaked in the water that soft giggle mixed with her moan making his heart flutter as his lips teased her neck and shoulders with tiny kisses and nibbles until he could tell she was ready to get out. He had dried them off being sure to put her hair in a clip so it would dry before the genius wrapped her in the fluffiest towel they owned truly treating her like royalty as he took her back to their room

Although she protested his over spoiling today and put up an argument that she was still capable of doing stuff herself he couldn’t help but go to their closet while she looked for her stuff getting out a comfortable outfit for Ashley setting it out on the bed letting her do as she wanted while he dressed himself skipping his usual clothes for once having no plans in being anywhere but at her side he put on his loose worn out jeans and a large purple hoodie she seemed to love wearing wanting to go for comfort, her disapproving grumbling caught his attention turning to make sure she was okay only to find her in what had to be the cutest sight as she struggled, her glare did little and Donnie just smiled as he had to kneel down to help put on her shoes kissing her knee when she had pouted at him but it faded into a loving grin as he leaned forward nuzzling her stomach, laying on her lap as he talked to their son while making sure his wife knew he loved helping her

A soft kiss and her taking his hand started the rest of the day, from there it had went mostly to his plans…

They had spent the rest of the morning with their family after the others had eaten breakfast they had gathered in the living area to play a board game April had gotten them and he was sure Mikey had cheated at when he kept winning having to fix the coffee table after Raphael had broke it in thinking the youngest brother had done the same it never stood a chance against the massive turtles fist, it would have upset him had he not had a blast watching his wife helping him getting her to hand him tools as he tried to reinforce the table for next time

An hour later they were cuddled on the couch to watch a new movie he had managed to get on his computer days before hooking it up to view on their TV sadly it had turned out not all that interesting as the trailers had promised and was forgotten halfway through when he had started tickling Ash mercilessly when she had started rubbing against him to tease his actions ending with his wife dumping the full bowl of popcorn over his head and laughing hysterically as he sat there covered in popcorn his mouth wide open in shock, moments later a food fight broke out between the competitive males in the room along with their mates surprisingly being started by Leo after he had thrown his own bag of popcorn at Raph for talking after being asked to shut up laughing so hard as it covered both him and Angel in the fluffy kernels, after the laughter dies away and Splinter had come to get onto them chuckling at the sight Don had to help clean up the mess still laughing as Ashley would throw more at him that were in the cushions beside her

They had gone out to play with their daughters in the yard full of bloomed flowers taking several pictures of them and his wife playing to keep for later while Raven and Mikey made lunch for the family, when the twins had gotten cranky he let her go put them down for their nap stepping into the kitchen packing up the trays already prepared for him in a basket taking her for a romantic picnic down by the lake laying back enjoying the cool breeze with her - which ended up being interrupted when the guys had come down to go swimming

It wasn’t at all like he planned but seeing her so happy and laughing told him it was better then ever

Donnie spent the entire day with her making sure she was the center of his attention showering her in affection while he had his brothers setting up the final surprise of the day to give Ashley his full time

As the sky started to grow dark he had given her a beautiful dress he had Raven and Angel go to town to get for him helping her put on her shoes when she couldn’t reach once again peppering her cute belly in several kisses moving upward until her flushed cheeks were given several pecks telling her they were going for a walk under the stars since everyone had turned in early holding her tight to his side as they walked down the trail under the moon with the small flashes of fireflies leaving a mystical feel to the night

They made it to a dark clearing where the small family loved to go camping walking slowly out towards the center heading for the continued trail but he stopped stooping down to capture her lips his hands cupping her face deepening their kiss as she wrapped her arms around his waist before several strands of fairy lights hung from the trees came on lighting up the entire area around them making the woman pull away in shock revealing a few tables sat up with food and drinks, several beautifully wrapped packages and balloons and a homemade cake he had helped the girls make the night before after she had gone to bed early

“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHLEY!!!”

From the shadows their family all dressed up in nice clothes which was more than unusual emerged shouting out excitedly, confetti and glitter were thrown by a bunch of small poppers everyone held officially surprising her giving the redhead tons of hugs and kisses after Raph placed a birthday crown on her head laughing at her still shocked expression

The rest of the night was spent having fun together and eating several different delicious foods they had prepared, they all gathered around once Leo had placed the cake on the table singing her birthday song the best they could as she blew out the candles making her wish, he had pulled his love close a few times and danced with her to the radio they had rigged up, and finally they all enjoyed her favorite ice cream with the cake while they watched her opening her presents

The head to a perfect night for the perfect woman

As the night wore on and the children started getting tired and cranky the others had retired to the cabin after they had kissed their girls goodnight taking the leftovers and all her stuff home with them leaving the two lovers for some more alone time where they sat on the grass watching the fireflies dance around them in the cool night and stars twinkling overhead brought a close to her special day

He looked over as she leaned on his shoulder chuckling when he saw the day has officially wiped all of her energy kissing her forehead as she started to dose off before lifting her into his arms leaving the tables were they were deciding he would come remove everything tomorrow morning while she was still resting sharing several deep kisses with her as they walk back home hearing a loud rustle through the underbrush made him look over to see they were being followed by his baby sisters wolf.

It followed Ashley everywhere watching over her and the kids so he wasn't all that shocked to see it had relinquished its guard on the teenager to follow them through the woods at night

As they came through the trees Lady growled then took off towards the house making both of them look over spotting a dark-colored car on the grass a few feet from the door where the house was now dark, he could feel Ashley tensing up in his arms obviously on guard having thought something was wrong

Even after this long of knowing they were safe he still adored how cautious she had become overtime.

He chuckled kissing her head before continuing to walk forward his free hand already digging through his pocket before setting her down on the grass tilting her head upward and kissing her lips so softly as he pressed the button at the top of the controller in his hands making the car roar to life purring like a kitten grinning at her questioning look before he placed the keys into her palm

It had taken a lot of work but since he had started planning her surprise party he had rebuilt the car from the ground up with Casey's help to get it done fast. The engine was completely new and improved like all of the inside, he had gotten the seats out and redone them better than ever with some new padding and seat covers, wiped down and polished the dash and center console, had spent the most time with the body having to bump out dents and repair several damaged spots then buff away the old top coat priming the entire outside before repainting it a gorgeous shade of purple he knew she adored making it look like he had just bought it from a car lot

After, he had modified the inside fixing the air vents and taking the old radio out putting in one he had built for the truck which had an FM radio setting and a radio connection to all of their gear so she could talk to them if she went to town or - as he was hoping for when they had leave the girls here to return to New York to finish the clones this would be a way for her to keep in radio contact with him

They have been here for months and usually April and Casey were the only ones who left the safety of the property running for supplies and doing the errands when needed, Ashley like Raven hadn't been able to leave due to both of their mates along with the rest of the family had a hard time letting them go anywhere without someone there to protect them if needed, between being pregnant and the danger of somebody finding them they were not willing to risk their mates safety or that of their unborn sons. Angel, against Raphael's protest tended to disobey and leave without anyone noticing even if she had been asked not to but it was hard to stop her when she needed to go somewhere since her powers had kicked back in but after everything Ashley had done for them he decided that needed to change

She had given up her freedom to go out, her job in the city, and everyone who she used to get to see before the Foot had set their sights on her or the Clones had crashed into their lives, everything that had lead up to the day they realized that because of them her leaving the sewers became a risk to her life, after the twins were born he noticed she no longer went to do stuff for herself or with the others and that for him was unacceptable

It was very hard to go anywhere in a giant trash truck and Casey didn't allow anyone to use his car willingly

He didn't have to say a word watching anxiously as her face went from being confused to the sudden realization of what he had done, his reward was getting to see the beautiful smile and her excitement as she looked at the car then back to him with a gasp, not even getting a chance to speak or to explained that as long as she was safe he had thought she would need a car of her own before Ashley had turned and jumped into his arms kissing him hard giggling and trembling from excitement as she showed her appreciation even as he fell backwards caught off balance holding her back as his family laughed from the porch

His lips met her in a sweeter caress laughing with her as he nuzzled her cheek

"Happy Birthday my love~"

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pixieungerstories · 5 years

Text

Housemate - 9

As always the inspiration board for this story can be seen here. Patreon readers are ten chapters ahead, plus I’m running a orc story and a werewolf story. I update three times a week.

Tristan was washing breakfast dishes as Vinny and Derick went out on their regularly scheduled run. “Fuck, I miss having sex!” He wasn’t expecting to have anyone listening to him so the chorus of agreement came as a surprise. He looked over his shoulder to find pretty much everyone else looking out the window, watching Vinny’s ass as she jogged away from the house.

Kogan cleared his throat, “You have no idea how good she smells, how good she feels all rubbed up against my back on the bike. What it’s like being between those legs and knowing they aren’t for me.”

Kevin shrugged, “Derick’s a werewolf. He would share.”

Kogan and Bazur glared at him. Bazur said, “that isn’t his call, it’s hers.”

Kevin shrugged again, “He would be ok with it though.”

Tristan pulled his hands out of the dish water and wiped them on the towel so that he could face Thea. “Did you figure out how to talk to her yet?”

Thea looked around nervously, “I say hi. She says hi. I asked her how her day was. She tells me. She asked me how I’m doing and I panic. Then I run away like ninety percent of the time.”

“That’s a no then,” Kogan said flatly.

Tristan considered how ashamed Thea looked, “I don’t know. It sounds like progress to me.”

Thea was glaring at Kogan, “Look! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep from dropping webbing around her? Women don’t look at me! Mostly they scream and run away. It’s not like I have experience with this sort of thing!”

Now Tristan snorted, “Trust me, experience is overrated. I had some random woman ‘accidentally’ grab my balls in the produce aisle yesterday. I like the having enough money to be retired part, but the world knowing what I did to get it isn’t that great.”

They were all staring at him in horror. Thea asked, “How does someone accidentally grab your balls?” at the exact same time as Kevin asked, “Was she cute?” Which was mere seconds before Bazur kicked Kevin.

Tristan decided to just ignore that whole exchange and said, “I wish they would just fuck and get it over with. All this dancing around the idea is driving me nuts.”

Kogan shook his head, “You say that now, but what do you think it will be like listening to the bedsprings squeak and having to smell them on each other? ”

There was a long moment of silence while they all considered this.

Kevin grumbled, “At least when you get horny, you can pick some woman up in the produce aisle. The only person rubbing my duck is me.”

Dren snorted, “That’s a personality issue more that any thing.”

Tristan went back to washing the dishes, blocking out the scuffle behind him.

——

Kogan was right about the listening in. From what he could tell, Vinny’s bed was more or less right over his. He was looking at seed catalogs and plotting out some planting options for a client when her phone rang. He could only hear her side of the conversation, but it was apparent that she was picking up an extra shift at work tomorrow. Moments later she came bounding down the stairs.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he teased.

Vinny grinned, “I got offered an extra shift at work tomorrow! I can even take it, as long as I buy the stuff for supper tomorrow now.”

Tristan nodded. There were enough of them that even the new fridge pretty much only held a day’s worth of food. “I’ll drive you.”

Vinny looked torn. “I don’t want to bother you when you are working.”

Tristan nodded. “Yeah, but it’s always a hell of a lot of groceries for you to juggle on the bus.”

Now she just looked embarrassed. She started to say something, then stopped, blushed and nodded.

Tristan stood up. “Trucks out back.”

It was a cliche, but Tristan drove a dually three quarter ton with the lift kit to make it a good height for him to work with. He wasn’t the lightest guy around, plus he used it to haul trees and rocks for work. He needed the payload. In his case, the truck was painted the matte black of primer. It suffered enough graffiti that he needed to be able to do his own touch ups.

He followed Vinny out to the garage that was accessible through the back alley. She was able to get the door open on her own but was then stuck trying to figure out how to climb into the seat when he didn’t have running boards. He hadn’t ever thought about that before. He watched as she tried to find something to hang onto to pull herself up. “Need a boost?”

“Um…” she had one hand on the interior door handle and one foot up on the truck floor but an experimental bounce showed she wasn’t going to be able to pull herself up. She put her foot down and looked at him, “Yes, please.”

He suppressed a snort of laughter. “Ok, butt towards the seat. I’ll grab your waist, you grab my shoulders. I will lift and set you on the seat, then you can swing your feet in, got it?”

“Yup.”

He had to do a fairly deep squat for her to reach his shoulders, but it went fairly smoothly. He hadn’t ever been that close to her before. She might be grinning at him, but her hands were shaking a little. After she was seated, she reached for the door. He caught her before she fell out. “You just worry about your seat belt. I’ll be a gentleman and get the door.”

Now she laughed, “Thank you, kind sir.”

She was fidgeting awkwardly as he pulled out of the garage, so he asked, “What’s on the menu for tomorrow?”

“I was going to do a stir fry, because it’s fast and I won’t have a lot of time when I get home.”

Tristan nodded. When Vinny made stir fry she used every burner on the stove. One for a massive pot of rice and three for woks. Then people to serve themselves meat, if they wanted it and veg from each of the two woks. One for crispy like carrots and pea pods and the other for soft like mushrooms and bok choy. It was always delicious.

Tristan parked a little way from the door. Before he turned the engine off he put a hand on Vinny’s arm. “Let me help you out. It’s a long way down and you won’t be working with a sprained ankle.”

Vinny chuckled, “Oh, come on! That is such a cliche!” Then she opened the door and looked down. “Um. I take that back. I would take the help.” As Tristan walked around to the other side she asked, “Don’t these things usually come with a step?”

“Yup. It’s an optional add on, but this is fine for me and makes it harder to steal.” The guys were right, she smelled good. She was oblivious to the people watching them walk in to the store together. Tristan wasn’t. People always associated Minotaurs with either teamsters or porn. He could feel them looking between Vinny and him trying to figure out which he was. What she was. Fuck. He should have gotten one of the others to drive her.

Once in the store, Vinny ripped the list in half and gave him the smaller half. He looked at it. She had taken the part with the meat and sauces on it and left him the vegetable section. Which was fine until he was inspecting the onions and felt a hand on his ass.

It was followed immediately by Vinny saying in a loud voice, “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”

Tristan turned to face the heavily made up fifty year old from last time staring at Vinny in shock.

“Excuse me? How dare you talk to me like that, young lady!”

“I won’t excuse you! You were sexually assaulting my friend!”

Now the woman smirked, “Oh, he’s your ‘friend’ is he?” She even did the air quotes.

Vinny was ignoring her. She was looking at Tristan. “This store has closed circuit cameras. Do you want to press charges? You would have an excellent case.”

Tristan looked at her, then down at the woman who was suddenly pale under her makeup. “Not if she leaves,” he rumbled.

The woman bolted. Vinny looked at him in concern, “Are you OK?”

Tristan nodded.

“God! That was terrible! The nerve of some people! I swear the last time some asshole did that to me I turned and punched him! Afterwards, I wished I would have just pressed charges.”

He considered that. “Does it happen to you very often?”

Vinny shrugged and started bagging some red onions, “Too often. A couple of times a year. Cat calling a few times a week. Jackass stalker that doesn’t get that I don’t want to date him at least one a semester.”

Tristan nodded. “I don’t really get the stalker thing, but cat calls are pretty much a daily thing. Groping…” he shrugged, “I dunno. Couple of times a week.”

Vinny frowned, “That’s horrible!”

Tristan shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. If I pushed her away from me the judge wouldn’t side with the big guy who shoved a small human housewife.”

Vinny just looked sad. “Let’s go pay for this stuff and get home. People suck.”

Tristan nodded, “Most of them, yeah.”

After they paid, he helped her back into the truck, then sat in silence for a moment before saying, “Thank you for standing up for me. That woman never even considered that I could press charges until you spoke up.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Tristan started the truck. “Derick is a lucky guy.”

Vinny laughed, “People keep saying that, but he hasn’t gotten lucky yet.”

Tristan was concentrating on driving but he still said, “He gets to spend time with you. That’s pretty damn lucky.”

——

The next day he went to go bid on a job and the husband showed him around the yard, talking about all the work his wife wanted. Tristan nodded and took notes. Then they went into the kitchen to discuss. The wife was there. He was shocked to see it was the woman from the grocery store. He immediately tripled the amount he was going to quote to the husband.

She agreed.

“And I won’t be able to start until spring,” he added.

She nodded amicably.

The husband hesitated, “We’ll get back to you.”

——

He didn’t say much getting supper ready. That wasn’t unusual for him. He was regularly pissed off at how the world worked. Vinny’s grumpiness was unexpected.

Derick was at work. Bazur came down to eat, took one look at Vinny’s black expression and went back to his room to get pants.

Tristan nodded to her as he set the table, “What’s wrong?”

Vinny tensed, “Some neck beard slapped my ass when I brought him his food. It put a crimp in my whole day, especially since it was Barry working as the manager today and he didn’t even ask the guy to leave.”

Tristan considered this, “Need me to beat him up for you?”

Vinny snorted, “Who? Barry or the customer?”

Tristan shrugged.

After food was cleared and the dishes were watched, Tristan went to the TV room and to watch Big Dreams Small Space on Netflix. He was just settling in with a mug of tea and his notebook when he heard Vinny come in.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.”

He wasn’t expecting for her to sit right next to him and have a little cry, but he was fully prepared to put an arm around her shoulders and pull his lap blanket over to cover her legs as well.

#monster #monster boyfriend #gargoyle #drider #werewolf #minotaur #mimic #orc #slime #gelatinous

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