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imagine-that-100 · 11 months

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Will We Talk? | Part 1 |

Description: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 13.2k

A/N: Well hello there besties! Alex stannies your time has come again because I’m back and this short series is going to be soooo much fun! This was inspired by a harry fic I read many moons ago and I just knew I needed to do a grumpy Alex fic. I started writing this fic on the 15th of December 2021 so it’s been a long time coming. That being said part 2 isn’t yet finished (blame @nriacc lol) but I felt we all needed a new Alex ficccc! Big thank you to the author of the harry fic for the inspiration, and to @red---moon and @alovesreading for helping me/ keeping me inspired for this one. I would loveeee to know what you all think so please give me your reactions! Just keep an eye out for the time jumps, it goes back and forth quite a bit but I hope it makes sense. Thanks a million for reading, hope you enjoy x

| My Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 29th June 2018 ~*~*~*~

Just do it Y/N. Be polite, stop being a child.

Internally, you’re debating pretending that you don’t need another drink and to go back to Katie and Kelly without a new one so you don’t have to suffer what’s bound to be another awful encounter. Alex is standing at the busy bar with his drink in his hand, and you’d think that after 8 years of knowing someone you’d feel comfortable enough to have a chat with them at their best mates birthday party. But no. Not with Alex.

He might just be the grumpiest person you’ve ever met. He’d never once started a conversation with you, it’s always been you making the effort with him since the day you met him.

Truthfully, your tendency to talk a lot more than you should when you’re nervous probably hasn’t helped that. You’d seen interviews of him over the years and it’s clear that he really didn’t like talking to anyone who he wasn’t close to. And you’re not stupid, just because Katie is your best friend doesn’t mean that you’re someone he has to converse with.

Of course over the years you’d seen each other a lot but you’d only had a handful of conversations with him. Frighteningly few of those conversations were just between the two of you, and you were happy with things staying like that.

But this time you’re going to have to brave it. You’d promised Katie you’d grab her another drink along with getting yourself a new one.

The bar is fairly busy with a few people standing around chatting as they wait for their drinks. A few people have been standing there for the majority of the evening in this decently sized function room.

Of course for Jamie’s birthday, and with the band being back off tour for a short break, Katie had thrown her husband an early birthday party because she’s the best wife possibly ever. You’d helped her plan it and sort everything out so she didn’t get too stressed like any best friend would do and you’re so glad everything has gone to plan and Jamie seems to be having a great night.

Equally, you’ve been having a great night too. Getting to see everyone again is fun. You’d not seen Miles for a while nor had you really seen any of the band because they’d been on tour but each time you saw them it was like no time had passed. Miles has always been your favourite to chat to, you think because the both of you are just as chatty as the other so you always feel at ease around him.

You’ve always had a tendency to talk someone's ear off and even more when you’re drinking or nervous. So tonight with you being both tipsy and nervous about seeing Alex standing at the bar, inconveniently for you the only free space being one beside him, you don’t want to go over.

But you need another drink.

Just fucking do it Y/N.

Taking a deep breath you bite the bullet and head over to the empty space at the bar. You’re hoping that you’ll get served immediately but by the looks of the bar staff looking around like headless chickens, you don’t think your prayers have been answered.

Reaching the bar, you put your empty glass back down on the sturdy wooden surface and wait patiently for the bartenders to serve you.

“Hey.” You greet Alex as you turn to face him.

You smile once his eyes meet yours and you see the flicker of recognition in them. You expect a smile or something along those lines from someone you’ve known for almost a decade but no.

All you get from Alex though is a quick, “Hi.” before he glances back towards the rest of the party.

After a second of silence, you have to ask, “How are you?”

“Yeah, good thanks.” Alex smiles before taking a sip of his drink and looking away from you as if he’s searching for someone else to talk to.

Wow, great chat. Why do you actually still bother Y/N?

You make eye contact again and you can feel the tightness in your chest building as if storing up all the shitty conversations you want to blurt out to get rid of the silence. But you also don’t want to annoy him. So you don’t mention anything about the goatee that he’s grown since the last time you saw him. You want to be nice and complement him but you seriously don’t think you can survive the awkwardness of you doing that.

Thankfully you don’t have to think about it for much longer because someone else caught his attention.

Alex’s eyes flicked from yours to someone coming up behind you and you hear a male voice excitedly saying, “Alex, hey!”

A grin comes to the singer's lips then and you watch him as he enthusiastically asks, “Hey man, you alright?”

You've never seen the guy who’s taken Alex's attention before but it seems like they are friends. From Alex’s smile and the way they just shook hands you assume they must be, “Yeah good thanks, where’ve you all come back from?”

“Middle of the month we were in the States, then we went Germany, and we flew back from Denmark yesterday.” Alex explains enthusiastically and you can only imagine him ever being that engaged in a conversation you had with him.

“Christ, and you’re here now.” The guy shakes his head in disbelief, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You tune out of their conversation then and glance back at the bar. You really want your drinks so you can leave before the guy leaves and it gets awkward again.

It’s not that you want to be his best mate or anything close to that, you’d just love not to feel nervous around him all the time. In the beginning the nerves were probably due to you being a fan of the music and you’d never met him before.

Jamie was the most normal person so you didn’t quite believe Katie when she first told you that her boyfriend at the time was in Arctic Monkeys. But then you met him and clearly found she was telling the truth.

You’d met all the band by the end of the year and you got on well with them at various after parties that Katie had dragged you along to in your mid twenties. But Alex has always been quiet and marginally grumpy with you since day one.

Probably your nervous chatter that did it the first time considering he said ‘hi’ to you and nothing else. He just listened to you rambling on until he was pulled away by someone much more important than yourself.

But over the years you got to know him, even if it wasn’t directly through him.

Katie fed you all of her gossip as she thinks of you as her most trusted confidant so when someone in the band annoys her and she can’t show how annoyed she is to Jamie, she’ll have you over for a wine night. So you’re aware of everything that’s just happened between him and Taylor and a certain french bitch.

If he hadn’t have left the French bitch as what she was, a stupid fucking fling, you think Katie may have killed him. She was really close with Taylor and after finding out about the cheating she was round at your house for days trying to yell all her anger away. Obviously she didn’t want to make things more awkward by airing her current murderous feelings towards Alex to Jamie so you’re the one who heard it all.

Of course you disapprove of what he did too. But it’s not your place to have an opinion. You’re just there for Katie. But you have to admit, for Alex’s sake, you’re glad he just left the French girl. Katie would have murdered him if he started seeing her as something more.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the guy who was talking to Alex accidently bumping your shoulder as he was turning round to head back to whoever he was with. After he apologised and you promised him it was fine, back comes the uncomfortable silence that hangs between you and Alex.

He makes eye contact with you again as he sips on his drink, the smile previous on his lips now gone, and you can feel that you’re about to start nervously chatting to him. So you’re eternally grateful for the voice from behind the bar.

“Hi,” The bartender grabs your attention, “What can I get you?”

Thank you, God.

“Can I get two Amarettos on ice please?” You ask for two of your own drink because you don’t want to come back over if the grumpy fucker beside you is still over here.

The bartender preps the glasses and adds ice before he grabs the bottle of Disaronno and the double ended measure before asking, “Singles or doubles?”

“Doubles please.” You smile and watch as he pours them.

You’re glad he isn’t stingy with his measures because you don’t want to come back for a while, and after pushing the drinks towards you, the bartender asks, “Anything else?”

Smiling, you politely ask, “Can I get a large glass of Montepulciano please?”

“Yeah sure…” You watch as the guy looks around for a second and you know from his irritated expression what’s coming before he even says it. “I’m just going to grab another bottle from the cellar, I’ll be just a minute.”

You smile, “Okay, thank you.” as you can’t even change which wine you’re after because he’s already gone. You feel bad as the guy disappears off but you can feel the nerves bubbling back up inside you.

The silence falls once again, and despite the room being busy and there being a lot of people-watching you could do, you feel like because you’ve known Alex for so long you should be trying to converse with him. You really wish you didn’t care about uncomfortable atmospheres but you can’t really help but avoid it with Alex, you wish you could get over it.

Both of you are awkwardly standing beside each other once more with nothing to say and you can’t stand the stiff air between the both of you. So you end up doing what you do best when tipsy and nervous: You talk.

“I know you don’t like me very much, but I really rate your music and I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.” You begin to nervously digress looking Alex straight in the eye, needing to get rid of the silence between you. You hesitate before oversharing, “I say that, but it took me a long while to get into your new album but I like it now. Think it’s the one I listen to most actually.”

“Right, thanks.” Alex nods, before adding in a little confusion, “At least, I think that was a compliment.”

“Yeah it was.” You nod, your mouth unable to stop from rambling now. “I know my opinion means fuck all in the grand scheme of things but I just thought ‘give credit where it’s due’, right?”

Stop talking Y/N/N, you’re embarrassing yourself.

“Right.” Alex smiles at you, but you can’t help but feel a little stupid under his gaze.

You’ve told Jamie time and time again how you felt about his music, but never once have you felt this awkward about it. It really is just a reaction to Alex at this point because you could tell he just doesn't want to know.

However, just as he looks like he’s about to say something else, probably him finally telling you to leave him alone, you’re saved from whatever it was. Whilst your blundering conversation took place the bartender had returned and had poured Katie’s glass of red and it’s ready and waiting just in front of you.

“That comes to twenty-two all together, please.” The bar man asks and you happily give him your undivided attention as you take a £20 and a £5 note from your purse and hand it over.

“Keep the change.” You smile at the bartender who looks pleased with the tip you’d just given and as you pick up your alcohol carefully you glance back to Alex who’s clearly only watching you because there’s no one else around taking up his time.

He probably wants you to get a move on so he can chat to someone who actually peaks his interest. You half smile at him as you politely say, “Can’t keep the birthday boy’s wife waiting for her drink any longer. See you later.”

“See ya Y/N.” He nods, sounding just as disinterested as when you started the conversation.

Christ. Get me out of here.

Thankfully for the rest of the night Alex is easily avoidable. Most people want his attention all the time so even if he joins a conversation that you’re involved in, he gets ripped away from it.

Miles keeps you entertained for a good portion of the evening, both of you chatting more as you drink more and more. Closer to the end of the night, Jamie gets up and does a speech thanking everyone for coming and that’s when Alex comes up beside you and Miles.

You just about hear him say to Miles that he’s just paid for a drink for him at the bar and for him to go and choose what he wants and then once again, Alex is left standing beside you with a full beer in his hand as you both listen to Jamie’s short and sweet speech.

Obviously, the guitarist brings up his lovely wife and thanks her for everything. Jamie gives Katie a stunning bunch of flowers which you can instantly tell that she loves, but as he hands the microphone over to her, Alex grabs your attention.

“Why do you think I don’t like you?” You're shocked as you hear that question fall from his lips, but you don’t hesitate to be honest with him.

You’re a little taken aback if you’re honest. He may as well have just shouted it at you because you’re genuinely that shocked by the question despite his voice being just above a whisper.

“Erm,” You swirl your drink around the glass before looking up into his brown eyes, “You never say more than a few words to me whenever I see you.”

Jesus, this is fucking awkward.

You see him frown a little then though, and after a second's thought, he asks, “That makes you think I don’t like you?”

“Well, it doesn’t make me think that you’re overly fond of having a conversation with me.” You say with a little chuckle of disbelief as to why you had to say it outloud. “And you’ve never tried to get to know me like the rest of your friends have and whenever I try with you, I don’t get much of a response.”

“Never intended for it to come across like that.” Alex tells you, and he does look like he feels bad, but it’s not like you’re holding it against him. So you don’t need his, “Sorry.”

All your brain is telling you right now is ‘Avoid confrontation at all costs’. You’re really not equipped to have that conversation with him drunk but you did tell him the truth.

“Don’t be.” You shake your head before looking back at Katie, “It is what it is.”

You can still feel his eyes on you and you’re half sure you hear him say the start of your name but your attention is clearly ripped away from him when Katie say’s your name down the microphone.

“Y/N,” She grins at you gesturing for you to come to her, and you see Jamie now holding a bunch of flowers that turns out to be for you, “Couldn’t have done this without you Hun. I had to get you these.”

You shake your head and go over to thank and hug her, leaving Alex watching after you. He just stays in his head and drinks his drink, silently processing your previous words.

~*~*~*~ January 26th 2018 ~*~*~*~

“Hey!” Jamie shouts as he runs through the front door and quickly starts routing around for whatever it is he’s looking for.

Katie says a surprised, “Hi?” and you can see and hear the distaste that he’s back so early.

Tonight Katie had invited you round once Forrest had gone to bed because Jamie was meant to be out for the evening with the lads. She needed a wind down after a long week of work and looking after her toddler whilst Jamie was away doing PR for the new album.

You’re both half way through your first bottle of red wine as Jamie now comes scurrying into the lounge, almost frantically searching around for something. You find it quite funny too because he definitely hadn’t noticed you sitting in his lounge.

That changes a second later when comes towards you and pulls out the messy drawer on the side table just near you. He smiles quickly, “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“And you Jamie” You grin, seeing his wife still waiting for him to announce why he’s intruded on your night in.

After scurrying around the lounge, clearly trying to find whatever it is he’s lost, she asks, “What are you doing back here?”

“I forgot my wallet.”

You’re desperately trying not to laugh at Katie’s silent sigh, or when she lets out an annoyed, “You left the door open J.”

You look towards their door and you can see it’s half open, letting all the precious heat inside their cosy house out. The winter air is absolutely freezing and it’s causing a draft that both you and Katie can feel without coats on.

“Al, you tosser!” Jamie shouts as he continues looking around for his wallet, “Don't wait outside come and help me find it, you prick!”

You can almost hear Alex’s sigh as he steps into the house, “Not my fault you left it here.”

“Alex, please come in and shut the door.” Katie waves him in from her seat, “It’s fucking freezing.”

He sighs a little as he says, “Yes, Miss Cook.” before closing the door and walking into the house with his coat wrapped tightly around him.

He looks like he doesn’t want to be out of his own space, let alone be here. He’s not smiling like he usually is when he sees Katie and he’s practically rolling his eyes watching Jamie run around like a headless chicken.

“Ignore him. He didn’t want to come out at all.” Jamie shakes his head as he walks around the lounge and back around the corner to the hall where he came in and heads past Alex and up the stairs.

Katie continues talking to you about your previous conversation and Alex just stands under the open arch between the hall and the lounge. Or that is until you all hear a loud bang come from upstairs.

A few seconds later all of you hear Jamie make another loud bang and Katie inhales sharply through her nose. Annoyance is bubbling through her system when you all hear him say “Shit.” from upstairs, clearly very loudly.

“He better shut the fuck up or he’s going to wake Forrest up.” Katie looks at you with a death glare that’s definitely meant for her husband.

Katie gets herself up from her seat opposite you and walks past Alex to half mute her voice as she yells, “Jamie!”

“Don’t mind me,” She looks from Alex back to you as she half smiles, “I'm just gonna go kill my husband.”

Alex chuckles at that and you let out a little giggle before taking another sip of your wine as you hear your best friend walk up the stairs. That leaves a silence between you and Alex and one that you’re itching to fill. You hate that it’s always awkward between you both.

After taking another sip of your wine, you politely ask, “How are you?”

“Good, thank you.” Alex nods, walking towards the wood burning fireplace that Katie was lighting when you arrived.

You debate mentioning that his hair is a lot longer since the last time you saw him, but you decide not to. The last thing you want is to make anything more awkward, so you go for something that he’s used to talking a bit more about.

“You enjoying the build up to the album release?” You ask, praying the conversation will being to flow a little easier.

But all you get is a half hearted, “Yeah. It’s been alright so far.” as he crouches by the fire and puts another piece of wood onto it.

“Good good.” You smile despite him not even looking your way.

… And nothing. No follow up question about you, not even a smile.

You’re sure he hates you. There’s absolutely no other possible explanation for why he would make things this uncomfortable for you both if he didn’t. You can’t stand uncomfortable silences which makes you more nervous and the need to chat takes over again.

You’d think that someone who does interviews for a living would know how to make people feel comfortable and you know for a fact that he does. You’ve seen a fair few in your time being their friend, and you’d seen Alex interact with his friends and his fans. You have no idea why he makes life so awkward for you.

You try again, hoping to ease your awkwardness by asking him about something he enjoys.

“How did you find writing this one?” Is the only thing you can come up with that you’re genuinely curious about, “I think Jamie mentioned that you got writer's block or something for a while, is that true or was he bullshitting me? Because you’ve always seemed to write and record really quickly from an outsider's perspective.”

“Yeah,” Alex nods with a sigh, still not even glancing at you, making you wish you never asked, “Was difficult at the beginning, got there in the end.”

Wow.

Amazing.

Enthralling story.

Taking another sip of your drink, the uncomfortable tension feels like it's suffocating you and you’ll do literally anything to ease it. Blabbing on about where they are going seems to be the direction you take.

“Where are you being dragged out tonight? Just to the George and Dragon,” which is about a 2 minute walk from here, “Or are you going into town?”

“Heading into town I think.” Alex stands himself back up and tucks his hands back into his pockets, glancing at you as he walks back to the centre of the lounge.

After taking a sip of your wine, you politely ask, “Anywhere nice?”

“No idea.” He shakes his head.

Smiling, you try to make light of the situation. “You really don’t wanna go, do you?”

“No,” Alex shakes his head, and says under his breath probably not meaning for you to hear, but you do, “I don’t even want to be here.”

To you that’s another way of saying shut the fuck up. Biting your tongue after that is difficult, but it's easier than letting him make you feel like shit again.

After drinking your last mouthful of wine, you get yourself up and out of this uncomfortable situation. You don’t bother telling him where you’re going as you doubt he cares but you’re just thankful that you don’t have to deal with him anymore.

Disappearing to the Cook’s downstairs toilet, you’re glad when you hear Jamie race down the stairs a minute or two later, shouting, “Right Al, come on. Let’s go.”

As you open the door and make your way back round to the hall, you hear Jamie say bye to Katie, followed by Alex politely saying goodbye to Katie. He gives her a hug and his eyes make contact with yours as he slips out, not even nodding a ‘bye’ as he leaves, closing the front door behind him.

“Hiding again?” Katie turns to grin at you, knowing just how uncomfortable you find interactions with Alex after years of the same behaviour.

“He’s so awkward.” You nod laughing, but you’ve got better things to be thinking about tonight. “Come on babes, I need another glass of wine.”

Thank fuck for that.

~*~*~*~ 21st September 2018 ~*~*~*~

“Y/N, Hey!”

“Jamieee.” You grin, walking towards his open arms so you can give him a hug.

You walk into his arms and you appreciate the tight hold he traps you in. As you give him a squeeze, the guitarist says, “Missed seeing you in my house.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little at that. After greeting Nick and Kelly as you walked in with Katie, you couldn’t wait to see Jamie backstage tonight. Matt unfortunately doesn’t seem to be around this communal area just yet but you're grateful for the lead singer's absence.

“Ahh well, I've been there more than you.” You tease him, his tour has been so long it feels like forever since you last saw him, “I’ll be sleeping in your bed next.”

“Surprised you don’t some nights,” Jamie laughs as he releases you from the embrace, “You’re both piss heads.”

You can’t help but laugh and nod. You just end up shrugging, “Well, red wine calls us both.”

Both you and Katie can’t help it. You’re just living your best lives and the wine nights you share are the highlight of your week.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You grin at Jamie.

You’re actually thrilled you’ve been invited to their gig tonight. Them being back home in Sheffield must be awesome for them and the fact that they have four shows back to back at the FlyDSA arena makes you happy too. It’s a proper homecoming. And after a stressful week this is definitely what you needed to let loose a bit.

“Oh, I’m not the one that you need to thank.” Jamie smiles and you think nothing of it, assuming Katie’s told him you have to come.

She usually does that when she’s invited somewhere anyway. She really likes taking you out with her and sometimes out of your comfort zone.

Katie calls you over to the fridge in the communal area where she asks you what you want to start the night off with. You’re shocked as to how much alcohol is in the fridge, there’s got to be at least 30 cans of beer and there’s also wine in there. Bottles of red are left on the side beside it too.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe they get this much stuff every night.” Your eyes go a little wide seeing the fridge.

Katie laughs at that, “I know they are greedy, I’ll have a route to see what there is.”

You watch her astounded at just how much alcohol is in there. But your attention moves to the scouser who’s just walked through the door.

“Y/N.” Miles calls your name from across the room and you grin when you turn to see him.

“Course they had you come for their home shows.” You laugh, throwing your arms around him.

You adore Miles. He’s been a good friend for a long time and you feel really comfortable around him. Unlike his best friend, Miles seems to listen to what you have to say and he’s interested in it.

It meant that you’d been close for a long while and he always makes an effort to check in with you every month which you love him for. He’s honestly such a good person and you think the world of him.

“I’ve been here the past two days and I’ve been asking for you.” Miles informs you, “I was going to text you but Katie said you were busy?”

“Yeah sorry, I’ve had some planning to do for work and had to see family the last few days.” You shake your head, not wanting to think about all that right now. You grin at Miles, clearing your head, “So glad to be here now.”

“Ooo Y/N/N,” Katie gets your attention and she has a big grin on her face as she tells you, “There's a full bottle of Amaretto in here. Not seen this before.”

“Oooo amazing.” You grin, selfishly loving the fact you won’t have to pay for your own drinks until the after party later.

Miles traps you in another conversation whilst Katie makes you your drink. Before she pours your drink though, she can’t help but wonder why the bottle is there in the first place.

“J?” Katie calls her husband over and when he’s standing beside her, she asks him, “When did you add this to your rider?”

“I didn’t know we did.” Jamie frowns in confusion looking at the bottle of Disaronno. He knows no one in the band drinks it so he asks his wife, “Why? Who drinks it?”

“Y/N does.” Katie tells him, ”It's her favourite.”

“Well, happy days then.” Jamie smiles and shrugs it off, thinking nothing of it.

Drinks flow for a while after that. Now you’ve had two glasses of your favourite, you really feel like it’s a Friday night and you can finally have a bit of fun.

That thought slowly dies though when Alex comes into the room with Matt in tow. You’d seen him a few times since the night you couldn’t get an Uber home from the Cook’s house and he walked you home but he still wasn’t all that chatty with you.

It was a little easier but you were still the one making all the effort and actively trying to make conversation with him. You can’t imagine anything different happening tonight, christ, you’ve still not mentioned to him that you like his new buzzcut.

In fact, you imagine he’ll be a little worse because he’s got everyone who he wants around him and you’re just Katie’s plus one. Thankfully you’re distracted for a minute by the bubbly man that is Matt Helders.

He’s a gooden too. You do love him but you can’t lie, he made a questionable decision with his love life. Why anyone would leave Breana you have no idea.

Like Katie’s rants about Alex doing the dirty on Taylor, you heard the same rants for her about Matt cheating on Breana. Once again, it wasn’t really your place to have an opinion so you just let her rant at you.

But Matt had always been lovely to you, so obviously you wouldn’t bring the things you heard about him into your dynamic. You chat to the drummer for a few minutes and he makes you laugh countless times at how tipsy he is.

You genuinely don’t know how he can perform for two hours when he’s like this before. But you can’t blame him, and he seems to be having fun and you know he’ll put on a good show.

Matt wonders off to grab himself another drink leaving you alone at the side of the now busy room. But you don’t mind people watching, it’s quite a good pass time for someone like you who doesn’t like awkward encounters. Anything to keep you from rambling on like you always do when you’re drunk and nervous.

Your eyes mostly roam over the people you don’t know, you find them more interesting to try and figure out. Guess which members of the band they know and how they’re friends.

But your people watching hobby fucks you over royally. As you eyes glance over at who Alex is chatting too, the singer's eyes connect with yours and you avert your gaze immediately.

You honestly just can’t deal with the awkwardness today. You need more alcohol to deal with that. Being drunk was the only reason you survived that walk home with him.

But turns out you’re not so lucky, because when you glance back, Alex is on his way over to you which almost makes you spit your drink out. What the fuck?

Miles, your absolute saviour, runs into his best friend though and wraps him into a hug which you can’t help but laugh at. He kisses his cheek which makes Alex laugh and the smile lingers on his face after Miles tells him whatever it is he needs to tell him.

They chat for a minute and you just find yourself watching them. They chat so easily. It really makes you wonder what you’ve done to piss Alex off so much that it seems like he couldn’t care less if you were in the room with him or not.

If you had to bet, it would be your nervous rambling. But that’s not your fault. That’s your shyness taking over and your hatred of awkward silences.

Your jaw almost falls open though when Alex smiles at you from over Miles shoulder, and even more so when he moves around his best mate as greets you, “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey,” You say, a little surprised that he’s stopped his conversation with Miles to come over.

“How’ve you been?” He asks, which makes you want to pinch yourself.

Did he really just ask me how I was before I asked him?

You just about manage to smile as you say, “Yeah I’m great, how are you?”

“Good thanks, excited for the gig.” The singer smiles, and you can’t help but find it unnerving that he’s giving you his undivided attention. Alex follows up like he’s curious, “I didn’t think you were coming to any shows?”

“Oh no.” You shake your head, thinking Katie must have forgotten to tell the lads she invited you. “What's better than a gig, right?”

“Right.” Alex smiles, and it shocks you because it actually seems genuine, “Glad you could make it.”

Is he drunk? Why is he talking to me? He’s glad I could make it????? What now?

You smile at each other then. But your brain is all too aware that after two seconds there’s nothing more to say. So as you try to stop yourself from getting skittish, or making it more awkward.

“You been enjoying the tour?” You ask him, but you don’t give him any time to reply because you start your nervous talking, “I’ve seen a few videos and they’ve been good. Four Out Of Five seems to really pop off. I like that one, might be my favourite off the new album actually. But I really like One Point Perspective too.”

“Good choices.” Alex chuckles and you can’t help but silently scorn yourself for being awkward.

God, you wish you could have one normal interaction with him.

“Oh,” Alex’s eyes seem to light up for a second before he tells you, “Follow me a second, got something for you.”

You frown at him, not believing what he said in the slightest. You ask in confusion, “Me?”

“Yeah.” Alex nods and turns with a gesture for you to follow him.

The shock of it is what actually makes you move. You can’t help but whisper a small, “Oh.” though.

He surely has to be drunk?

But what’s mind-boggling is that he really isn’t. On the way out Miles asked him if he wanted another drink and Alex responded yes and added ‘this is only my first, definitely need one more before I go on’.

He leads you out of the room everyone was in and around the corner to where a group of the crew guys are. There’s a quiet word exchanged with who you assume to be the main crew guy and you watch from behind Alex as the guy nods at him and a second later he hands the lead singer something.

You shake your head as soon as you see Alex turn back to you and hold up the AAA pass that’s hanging from the lanyard he’s trying to give you.

“Oh Alex, I don't need that.” You shake your head, “I like watching from the arena.”

Half of them in that room watch from a box which is where you expected to be watching from. It’s no issue to you where you are in the arena, it’s nice enough you were invited by Katie to come tonight for free. Christ knows you wouldn’t have been able to get a ticket on Ticketmaster.

“Come on,” Alex presses on, “I’ve never seen you back here.”

Because you really like watching from the arena. You’ve never been at the side of the stage and you’re not sure if you want to be. You’ll just feel like you’re in the way.

You try to argue your point, “But-”

“No buts,” Alex smiles as he puts the lanyard over your head so it falls around your neck like a necklace. The singer continues, “You can’t be leaving Katie on her own. She’s been missing you for the last two weeks. I’m sure Jamie will like you being at the side of the stage too.”

He gives your shoulders an encouraging squeeze and the smile on his face makes you believe that you’ve swapped bodies with Katie for a hot second. He’s never talked to you like this before.

“Thanks Alex.” You smile sheepishly, not really knowing what else to do other than accept in this situation, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

The singer shakes his head like he doesn’t need your thanks. He just smiles at you and says, “It's nice seeing you here.”

It goes silent for a second then between you and your mind scrambles for something to talk about so this surprisingly good interaction doesn’t take a turn for the worst. You’re thankful it’s not your rambling that ends the conversation though.

Someone from the crew a bit further down the hall shouts Alex’s name then which makes the both of you turn to look at where the voice came from. You both see someone wave and then they tap their ear at the same time they almost do the Asda Price bum tap thing.

Whatever it is goes straight over your head. But Alex seems to understand because he nods and holds up a finger telling him one minute.

“Sorry to be a pain,” Alex says as he turns back to you, “They are shouting me for something about my mic pack.”

“It’s okay.” You smile.

Alex smiles back at you, and he says, “See ya in a bit Y/N, hope you enjoy the show.”

“Always do.” You smile and as you turn back around, you say, “Break a leg.”

The singer just smiles at you and you head your separate ways.

Great. Now you just sound like a fucking suck up. Go and get another drink Y/N/N. For fucks sake.

~*~*~*~

Surprisingly, that isn’t your only interaction with Alex tonight. During the short interval between the encore, when they came off stage both Alex and Matt came over and talked to you whilst Nick and Jamie spoke to their wives.

You were tipsy at that point so you started chatting their ear off like you usually did and Matt of course entertained you, but what surprised you most is that Alex was actually smiling. He actually seemed interested in what you had to say - even if it was just nervous bullshit - and he didn’t try to look for someone else to talk to which was very surprising to you. But that was probably just because Matt was there though.

Expecting that to be it, you didn’t give the singer much thought other than that. Knowing that you’re all going into town after this with quite a lot of people settles your nervous energy. You’ll probably have Katie and Kelly to yourself for most of the night because of their men interacting with everyone who wants to speak to them.

And for the most part you’re right about that. Katie gets you drunk, to the point where you’ve had to stop drinking for about an hour so you don’t throw up in the toilets. But the party is still in full swing and you - along with everyone else - have had a nice night.

You’ve just come back from the toilet and you’re looking around for Katie who has now disappeared from the table you were previously at. Kelly had gone home a little earlier, leaving Nick here to have his fun, so you and Katie had been chatting the night away and you’ll be getting a taxi with her back home because you live a 10 minute walk away from her house.

You just take your seat back at the table you were previously sitting on and pull your phone out. The last thing you wanted to do was interrupt anyone else's conversation so you were happy waiting for Katie to find her way back to you.

Sitting there, your still tipsy mind is paying no real attention to what you’re seeing on Instagram. You do find yourself singing along to the Tame Impala song that's playing in the room which you can just about hear over the noise of the busy chattering.

“Hey,” Alex's voice startles you out of your thoughts as he comes and sits himself down next to you with a smile on his face as he asks, “You enjoy the show?”

“Hey, yeah,” You nod, taking a deep breath to stop your shocked heart from giving out. Smiling, you tell him, “Well done.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Alex grins back at you, and he places a glass down in front of you, “Got you a drink.”

“Oh,” Your eyes go a little wide looking at the whisky glass he’s put down in front of you, “Thank you.”

You pick it up and swirl the liquid around the two ice cubes and initially you thought it was whisky like he’s currently drinking, but you notice the liquid is lighter and a little thicker. Is this your favourite liqueur?

And the singer confirms that it is your favourite drink when he must notice you glancing at your drink. He brings you out of your thoughts and you look back at him as he speaks.

“You drink Amaretto on the rocks when you’re out, right?” Alex nods down to your drink like he’s worried he got it wrong.

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod, completely baffled that he knew that about you, but you smile nonetheless, “Thank you, you didn’t have to get me that.”

Christ, what a good guess on his part.

Alex smiles, “Least I can do.”

You take a sip of the drink and you can’t help but love the taste of it. And after not drinking for an hour or so, the taste is lovely and refreshing on your tongue.

“Did you enjoy your show?” You ask to fill the silence between you.

Granted the noise in the busy room makes his absence of conversation not as bad, but you hate the awkward feeling in your chest. Talking always makes it feel better and your tipsy self can’t control what you say anyway.

“I bet you don’t hear that a lot, or I guess you might.” You ramble, “But I imagine, with performing like that, you just get a lot of people telling you that they enjoyed themselves despite you maybe not feeling it was your best or whatever.”

You notice his lip twitch up at that and you feel like you’ve just shot yourself in the foot. “Sorry, that made it sound like I’m saying you were shit. I’m not. You weren’t. I’m just saying, bet you don’t really get asked a lot. So yeah, um, sorry.”

After the singer takes another sip of his drink, he smiles, “You don’t need to apologise… Yeah, I enjoyed myself. It was probably the best night this week.”

You nod at that, taking another sip of your Amaretto before you open your mouth again, “That’s good. I guess it makes the home shows more special. Has anywhere ever beaten home shows? I imagine all the UK ones are pretty special with you all literally travelling around the world.”

“God, big question.” Alex chuckles a little, before looking at the ceiling as if the answer was written up there. He comes back with, “I think home shows are the rowdiest and loudest which is fun. I think the best ever was Glastonbury though.”

You grin, “Which one? First or second time?”

“Full of good questions.” Alex smiles before he swirls his glass around as he thinks which reminds you of something else entirely.

“Oh,” You practically giggle, which brings his attention back to you, “You make me laugh when you do that ‘losing your train of thought’ thing on stage. Wasn’t aware that an Arctic Monkeys show is actually shitty stand up comedy these days.”

“Offended you think it's shit.” Alex scoffs which makes you drunkenly giggle.

As you finish laughing you shrug and tell him, “Was better in the days that you did the kung fu fighting thing still.”

“Damn,” Alex shakes his head, “Need to step my game back up. Any other suggestions?”

You think about it for a second and you’re just about to give him a long spiel of awkward suggestions that probably should never leave your mouth. But they thankfully don’t because the most gorgeous wife in the world comes back over and grabs your attention.

“Hey Y/N,” Katie grins at you with her coat folded over her arm and she asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” You nod, grabbing your coat from just beside you, “Yeah.”

As you slip your coat on and finish your drink in a quick mouthful, Alex keeps Katie entertained.

“Mrs Cook.” Alex grins, taking a sip of his beer after calling her out, “You lightweight.”

You have an amused grin on your face as she frowns at him, “Some of us have kids to look after in the morning, Turner.”

“I’m so glad I'm not you right now.” You laugh honestly.

The last thing you’d want was to be hungover and then have to get up early to deal with kids in the morning. Definitely not happening any time in your near future.

“You and me both.” Alex chuckles before he glances back at Katie. “Did you have a good night Mrs Cook.”

“Stop calling me Mrs Cook, you make me feel old.” She playfully scorns him.

“You are old.” Alex fires back just as cocky as she was, pointing out some fair points, “You’ve been married for half a decade and you have a child.”

Katie scowls at the singer then, and she fires back, “Well at least I don’t have a fucking ugly orange settee where I choose to live.”

You have to laugh at that. You’ve heard about how weird and wonderful this sofa is. You know she’s hated it ever since she’d seen it when he moved in, but Alex apparently likes how his furnished flat came. So he’s not changing it.

Alex argues back, with a look of determination, “It matches the blue walls.”

“Your flat looks like a pop art painting.” Katie fires back, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous because you can’t have pretty things like that because your kid will draw on it.” Alex defends himself with a grin, before adding his final joking remarks, “And you’re boring because you have your Mum brain on all the time.”

“At least she’s a milf.” You grin at her, “It’s very lucky Jamie is away so much. Get her all to myself.”

Katie burst out laughing at that and you hear Alex chuckle at you too. Not that you’ll remember any of this tomorrow, you can practically feel the memories already leaving your mind.

Christ, that one extra drink has really done you over. You feel just as drunk again. God you already don’t want the hangover tomorrow.

Katie tells you that she’s going to go and find a few people to say goodbye to and that she’ll meet you over by the door in a few minutes. So you politely ask Alex to let you up from the booth you’re in and he does so without any argument.

As you stand in front of him, the singer wonders aloud, “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“Oh I, um,” You don’t really know what to say other than, “I didn’t know I was invited?”

The last thing you wanted to do was be in the way again. Because god knows at some points tonight when the crew was running around you, Katie, and Kelly you felt like you were in the way. And you never want to outstay your welcome anyway.

“Course you are,” Alex tells you, and he says as if it’s obvious, “You’ve been on the guestlist all week, Y/N.”

“Oh.” You say, a little dumbfounded because you really didn’t know and his gaze still makes you feel a little uneasy.

Well if Katie had told you she’d done that for you you might have been able to come a few dates earlier. Or maybe not considering it’s still been a little awkward tonight with Alex, you’re grateful for the conversations you’ve had though.

But you won’t remember your discussions with him because you’ve had so much to drink. And tomorrow you’ll blame your hangover on Katie for more than likely asking Jamie to put the Disaronno in his rider.

“You don’t have to,” Alex backtracks a little, but it’s nonchalant and you think nothing of it anyway. He follows it up with, “Just thought that you usually spend your saturday nights with Katie and she's here anyway. You’re welcome to come again.”

How kind of him. He must have been abducted by aliens and this is a nicer clone. There's absolutely no other explanation to your tipsy mind.

“Thanks, yeah,” You nod and the singer smiles at you when you confirm, “I’ll be there.”

Because you won’t be turning down free live music or alcohol any time soon.

You glance at the door and notice Katie giving Jamie a kiss so you figure it’s time to get going yourself. You look back at Alex and he smiles knowing what you must already be thinking.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N/N.” Alex grins and you give him a smile and a small ‘bye’ as you turn to leave.

But the singer shouts your name after you take a few steps away, so when you turn back to him, he answers your earlier question, “First time. First Glastonbury blew my mind.”

All you seem to be able to do in response to that is grin. You nod a little before saying, “See you tomorrow Alex.”

~*~*~*~ 20th August 2018 ~*~*~*~

“I want to cry, the Uber cancelled again.” Katie whines, pouting slightly as she looks out of the window at the rain.

“Just our luck for not booking a proper taxi in advance.” Jamie sighs, scorning himself for not thinking better of it earlier.

Tonight you, Katie, Jamie, and Alex had been out separately but you’d all convened back together at the Cook household so Jamie’s parents could be relieved of babysitting duties. You and Katie shared another bottle of wine and gossiped for another 2 hours whilst the boys drank their beer and chipped into the conversation now and again.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Alex tells them, “We don’t live that far away.”

“Yeah, I’ll just brave the cold.” You assure Katie, and add in a little jest using air quotes, “At least it’s ‘summer’ and not snowing.”

“But the rain.” Katie points to the window.

Yeah walking home at the end of the night in the rain can be a little shit. But it was nothing you’d not done before. Granted you were like 21 the last time you’d done that but it’s really not the end of the world.

“It’s not heavy, I'll be okay.” You promise her to try and ease her worries, “At least I’ll go home looking like a drowned rat and not the other way around.”

You grab your coat from near the door and Katie follows you saying, “You can’t walk home on your own at three am, Y/N.”

“I’ll be fine.” You tell her as you slip your shoes back on.

Alex shocks both you and Katie to your cores when he says, “I’ll walk her home.”

Katie mustn’t be able to believe her ears because she asks, “What?”

You almost laugh, because she sounds like she’s as shocked as she was when Alex walked in on your wine night with Jamie and Nick the other month and she first saw his buzzed hair cut.

“We live the same way with about five minutes between us.” Alex points out, and he looks at you and nods, “I’ll walk you home.”

So that is how you’re currently walking from the Cook’s house to your own with Alex by your side.

Since Jamie’s party when he came up to you and asked why you didn’t think he liked you, the singer had surprisingly been a little better with you. He said hello to you and he seemed to engage a little more.

He’s still quiet around you, but you’ve noticed now that he goes like that around most people he doesn’t really know that well. You guess you can’t really change that though considering whenever you start asking him questions he doesn’t really give you much of an answer.

You’ve come to terms with that thought which is why you’re biting your tongue as you walk beside him. The urge to start asking him a bunch of questions is really strong but you’d rather not have the sinking feeling in your chest when you just receive one word answers back.

To occupy yourself as you’ve been walking the past few minutes, you’ve been running over the lyrics of your favourite song in your head. Alex seems to be in his head as it is so you don’t feel too bad as you walk despite the strong urge to rid yourself of the awful silence between you.

All you really focus on is making sure the umbrella that Katie lent you keeps you dry. Alex had a coat with a hood and even when you offered to share the umbrella with him he told you it was fine and that was the last thing you said to each other.

Or that was until Alex speaks up and asks you, “Am I right in thinking you were married?”

“Yeah for four years.” You nod, glancing over at him, and chuckling a little, “If you can believe it.”

Thank fuck he spoke up. The silence was eating away at you.

Alex’s eyes go a little wide, “Really?”

The poor man probably shouldn’t have asked, because the floodgates you were holding shut have just burst open and your nervous chatter just comes out. And considering you’re drunk, there is no chance you can stop it.

“Yeah, together since we were sixteen. Married at twenty one and stayed together for four years. But we just didn’t love each other anymore. Well, not in the way that qualifies you still be married to someone.” You ramble on before continuing, “Don’t get me wrong I would be devastated if something happened to him. Touch wood nothing does. But we just lived separate lives, went to work, came back home, and went to bed. Half the time he did shifts so I never saw him.”

You carry on to explain, “My life was just boring and I thought to myself I shouldn’t be feeling bored aged twenty-five. I wanted to travel and see the world but I just got a mortgage straight away so the only travelling we ever did was when we went to Vegas and got married.”

“So I got divorced, and how sad is it that I've got to tell people I'm a thirty one year old divorcee.” You finish off with.

But then you realise who you’ve said all of that to. And that he doesn’t like chatting to you at the best of times. So he probably didn’t care about anything you just told him, or appreciated the amount of rambling you just did.

You feel the need to say, “Sorry.” and you glance at Alex as you sheepishly say, “You didn’t really ask that, did you?”

For fucks sake Y/N. A ‘yes’ would have done!

“It’s okay.” Alex assures you with a small smile.

“No, it's just me rambling when I'm drunk and nervous.” You scorn yourself, hating the uneasy feeling in your chest. Unable to understand why you do it, you still end up saying, “I’m sorry. I’m a chatty person in general and getting alcohol into my system just makes me worse. Not to mention if I'm nervous too… Can never stop me going then.”

You guess getting it off your chest and him knowing that about you may make you easier to understand. Maybe he won’t find you as annoying because the last thing you want is to annoy him. You’re close with Katie and Jamie so you’re bound to run into each other more now he’s going to be living in Sheffield.

The singer frowns a little then before looking back to you to curiously ask, “Why are you nervous?”

Because you’re the most awkward man to talk to possibly ever?!!??!??!?

Course you can’t say that though. So you give the other true reason.

“I don’t like walking home in the dark usually.” You tell him sincerely, because it does freak you out. “I don’t know, bit of an irrational fear at this point but someone followed me home when I was younger and it really freaked me out. So um yeah… Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s really not a problem Y/N/N,” He smiles at you in what seems like a genuine way then, “I wasn’t going to let you walk home alone.”

You can’t help but think that’s really kind of him considering he really doesn’t know you very well. You tell him, “You’re a gooden, Alex.”

The singer just smiles a little at that, but you can see he’s being completely genuine when he says, “Sorry that happened to you.”

You give him a small smile then, appreciating how sincerely he said it. But you don’t really want to dwell on that whilst you’re walking in the dark so you change the subject.

“Do you prefer being back in Sheffield after all your time away?”

Alex wonders in what context you’re on about, so he questions, “You mean like over tour?”

“No, I mean like from living in different places because you were in New York when I first met you. Then you were in LA and you’ve got a place over there, right?” You double check, looking to him for assurance.

Alex nods and you continue, “Then you were to and from LA and London, right? And now you decided to come and stay back home? Or do you not plan on staying now?”

And you’re pleasantly surprised at the lengthy answer he gives you.

“Oh I'm definitely staying in Sheffield now… At least for a little while after the tour is finished.” He explains, “I think I just need time back where everything is normal and familiar again. Like Miles goes and stays back home quite often and I’ve not been back here for more than two months maybe since I was twenty two… It’s a long time away and it's quite nice to just come back and feel normal.”

You understand what he’s saying completely, but you can’t help but jokingly add, “Well… As normal as you can, being the front man of Sheffield's pride and joy.”

Alex laughs a little at that which shocks you because you never expected to make him laugh. But he does remind you, “You’re forgetting about Pulp.”

“You’re forgetting Pulp haven’t released anything since 2012.” You raise your eyebrows at him as your defence.

“Fair dos,” Alex laughs a little and you take what joy you can out of the fact that you made that happen. “But yeah, I like being myself back here and I like that I’m with most of my good friends and I get to be a proper uncle to the kids over here now.”

“They talk about you all the time. It's funny.” You can’t help but grin at the thought of your little god children, “Katie blames Jamie for being gone on you so when Katie has Kelly and Nick’s kids round too they complain like ‘Why has Uncle Alex taken Dad away again?’” You mimic in a whiney voice that again makes Alex laugh.

Alex chuckles, “I need to have a word with that Mrs Cook. She’ll get me into trouble with them.”

You promise him, “It’s nothing a chocolate bar wouldn’t solve.”

“I must owe them so much chocolate.” Alex grins.

You nod and begin to slow your walking down because you’re about to reach your house, “Oh yeah, you definitely do.”

“I’ll get Katie to invoice me.” The singer says as he notices you glance to the houses just beside you both and you slow down.

Matching your speed, you both come to a stop just in front of your house and you smile at the singer, “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Not a problem, Y/N.” Alex smiles back and you’re really glad that

You start slowly moving closer to your house as you say, “I hope the next leg of your tour goes well.”

“Thank you.” He says as he watches you get closer to your house.

“See you soon Alex.” You say with a smile as you unlock your door and push it open. “Thanks again.”

Alex smiles, “Bye Y/N.”

~*~*~*~ 24th November 2018 ~*~*~*~

Chaos. That is the only word to describe the current situation that you’re in.

The Cook household is manic, Forrest is running round like a mad man as any toddler who’s just been given sweets by his uncle would be doing.

Toys are everywhere and Jamie is running around too as he’s been tasked with tidying them before the grandparents get here to babysit. Katie scolded Alex for giving Forrest sweets before they were due to go out before she went upstairs to get ready.

Katie’s Mum wasn’t here yet to babysit Forrest for the night whilst you were all going out and that added to the stress because the taxi was due in about 25 minutes. So you’re trying your best to be the good Auntie that you are and calm your godchild down before you all go out, but your good nature results in a causality.

Alex catches your arm as you almost fall over a mountain of toys Forrest decided to pull you through, but as you tried to salvage your footing you must have caught the leg of the table your shin smacked into as well. It didn’t hurt too much, the initial shock of it got you and the fact you almost fell over, but then you hear the awful sound of fabric ripping, it makes you wince. You know what's happened before you even look down to check.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” You mutter under your breath before you quickly glance at Alex and say a small, “Thanks.” as he stopped you from going arse over tit.

Alex asks slightly concerned, “Are you okay?” and that’s the first interaction with him since you walked in the door ten minutes ago.

You could blame that on the fact the Cook’s household was fucking mental, but it’s more than likely just normal that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You’re just glad he caught you if nothing else, the last thing you need is to fall and bruise yourself.

“Yeah, thanks,” You nod, letting go of his arm you were still grasping to perch on the back of the settee so you can get a look at the damage done to your tights, “Can’t say the same about them, for fucks sake.”

They are beyond salvageable. There’s a massive hole in the calf which is that big it almost fully reaches round to your shin. Theres now a massive fucking ladder up the side of them which makes them more transparent and you can feel it’s gone right up to your arse too.

“I can’t go out like this.” You sigh, wondering what you can do but it also pisses you off because you literally arrived a matter of minutes ago in your taxi feeling really good about yourself for a hot second, but now that’s all fucking disipated.

Jamie shrugs, suggesting, “Take them off.” as he watches Forrest play with some toys across the room.

“Oh yeah,” You roll your eyes, and your sarcasm rings clear telling him that you’re not in the mood for such a simple comment like that. You wore them for a reason, and that reason is because it’s fucking freezing outside, “And get fucking hypothermia because I’m shivering all night? I don’t think so Jamie.”

You’re only wearing a skirt tonight because Katie asked you to anyway. She wanted you to wear the skirt version of the dress that she had which you were fine with doing.

Katie was wearing a really cute red tartan dress with a long sleeve black top underneath whereas you opted to buy the dark green high waisted tartan skirt and you paired that with a white long sleeve top and you had your tights and ankle boots on.

You’re bloody freezing as it is, the last thing you want or need is to be taking your tights off. It’s a strong no from you.

“I mean you wanted a quick fix.” Jamie holds his hands up in innocence and you just ignore him for a second before walking out of the lounge and to the bottom of the stairs after hearing your best friend begin to walk down them.

“Katie, do you have tights I could borrow?” You ask her as she gets to the bottom of the stairs.

“I binned all mine the other day and ordered more but they haven't arrived yet.” She tells you and your once jolly mood plummets further, “They all had holes in them… How come?”

You show her your right leg and you turn slightly to pull your skirt up a little, making sure the lads don’t see but Katie can see just how high the ladder runs up.

“Oh.” Katie winces at that, feeling bad she can’t help you.

“I’ve got stockings you could wear?” She offers as the both of you walk back into the lounge, “They’d come up to your thigh?”

You almost want to slap her. You know exactly where those items of her clothing have been, which is why you give her a disgusted look as you say, “I’m not wearing stockings that you’ve been wearing whilst Jamie’s railed you.”

“They’ve been washed.” She scoffs.

“Thanks, but no. I can’t wear these though.” You sigh as you both walk into the lounge. You stick by the arched frame though and after a second of deliberation, you say, “Whilst you're sorting yourself out, I’ll walk home and change.”

Katie looks at you with concern filled eyes, “But the taxi is due in twenty minutes.”

“Exactly, and you don't have the time to be messing about.” You say as she’s clearly still got things to sort out. She’s only just now plugging her straighteners in and she doesn’t have her shoes on yet either. You continue with, “And your Mum isn’t here yet to look after Forrest. If you can pick me up on the way out, that’d be grand.”

Katie nods at you through the mirror as she starts parting her hair so she can style it, “Yeah that’s fine.”

“Right, I’ll go now then.” You tell the room before turning to grab your coat from the bannister.

But you almost stop dead when you hear Alex say, “I’ll walk with you.”

Did those words really just leave Alex Turner’s mouth?

They clearly did because he’s pulling his jacket back on and taking a step towards you. Not wanting to be a burden, you shake your head, “You don’t have to, it’s not that late.”

“It’s okay, I’ll walk with you.” Alex insists, giving you a look that’s assuring but he makes it lighthearted by saying, “Gives them more incentive to come and pick the both of us up from yours then, right?”

You assume he must remember from your walk home a few months ago that you didn’t like walking home in the dark. You see no other reason for him as to be so kind to offer. So you don’t argue with him further, even though you already feel nervous to have to spend time with him alone.

“Right.” You nod and avert your gaze from his. You look back to Katie and Jamie and say, “See you in a bit.”

~*~*~*~

The walk home was uncomfortable to say the least. Despite your speed walking, it really did seem to take forever to get back to your house with silence between you and the singer.

You’ve got past the point of trying to start a full conversation with him at this point, so you just opted to repeat the lyrics to your favourite song, Not fair by Lily Allen, to yourself three times knowing that by the time you finish the song in full for the third time you should be home. And when you’re correct, you’re very thankful.

Unlocking and getting into your house leaves a new sense of anxiety in your stomach though. You’ve left the place a fucking mess and you hate that when someone new walks in. Especially someone like Alex who hasn’t always been the nicest to you in the past, so you start rambling again as you let the both of you in.

“My house is a tip so sorry about this.” You tell him as you quickly slip your boots off so you can change your tights when you get a second. “Please ignore everything you see. I’ve really not had any time to clean up today. I was out this morning and then by the time I got back katie was mithering me to get ready for tonight which is fucking comical because she wasn’t ready even before we left.”

Alex closes the door behind and walks into your home and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s already looking around at your possessions. Most people do when they walk in anyway considering the back wall of your lounge displays your ever growing record collection.

You’re unsurprised when you hear him say, “Christ, that’s a lot of records.”

“I know right,” You smile and walk the both of you further into your home.

And because you can’t handle silence as you start searching your shopping bags for a new pair of tights, you give him another anecdote, “My Dad gave me all of his from back in the day. Couldn’t believe it when he said I could have them all. I’d only just started my collection at the time and I probably had about twenty of my own and then he gave me all of his because he said it was old technology and he’ll never have any use for them anymore. And then my grandparents followed suit and they gave me all theirs too. Couldn’t believe my luck.”

“Three generations worth of collectors then?” Alex smiles and you nod.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You nod, not bothering with the bag you were currently routing through anymore because you’re a little bit taken aback by the fact he’s pulled your favourite Gorillaz album out.

Abandoning your search for replacement tights for the moment, you carry on your story as you watch him, “Been fun adding to the big collection though. I love just putting on a record to pass the time. It’s why my Spotify unwrapped is always so shit because I always listen to my LPs and not on my phone so at the end of the year it’s like ‘you listened to two thousand minutes of music this year’ and it’s bullshit because I just listen to so much more but it’s all on my turntable unless I'm walking to work.”

Alex hums with a smile on his face as he continues searching for more records. He’s pleased to see all of his own up there, including his EP, the TLSP albums, and the Submarine soundtrack. And when he pulls out Miles’ latest album Coup De Grace, he can’t help but chuckle seeing that Miles had signed it and written a message to you saying, ‘Y/N/N, my biggest fan in the world. Love you loads and I hope you enjoy the new tunes. All my love, Miles x’.

When you notice the singer looking at that, you laugh and tell him how Miles had given you a lovely message on the front of all his LPs.

“Bless Miles, he always writes me a nice message on each album I get sent.” You start to ramble as you search for new tights. “I don’t really remember when he started doing it… Oh yeah I do, I think it may have been when I mentioned when I first met him how much I liked Age of the Understatement and we were talking about it for ages. And then like a month later I get the record in the post and he’s signed it and it had the sweetest message on the front to go with it and he’s never stopped. He’s a gem.”

You stop talking about Miles when you get baffled for a moment how your tights weren’t in the shopping bag from the shop you thought you bought them from. So your search persists as you carry on routing in other bags you’ve yet to take upstairs.

As you do though, your nervous chatter persists. You really hate that you can’t stop it, and you’re sure you’re annoying your guest but he doesn’t stop you, and thankfully he doesn’t look annoyed by them today. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take you by surprise today by actively starting a conversation with you.

Just as you’re about to run upstairs to your room, you hear Alex ask, “Can I ask you a question?”

If Katie would have asked you that, you’d have said ‘You just did’ but because it’s Alex and you’re certain he doesn’t get your humour, nor would he tolerate it, you just say, “Yeah, of course you can.”

And you walk back into your lounge so you’re not being rude as you wait for his question. Alex looks as relaxed as possible as you feel like your heart is going to start beating out of your chest despite him still plucking records from your shelves.

His brown eyes linger on you as he asks, “Do I make you nervous?”

You certainly weren't expecting that question.

“What do you mean?” You find yourself asking, not understanding where that’s come from and you feel like you’re frozen in your spot.

Alex seems to think about his words before they leave his mouth next. And your heart that's thudding ten to the dozen in your chest doesn’t feel like it’s able to cope for much longer so you’re very thankful when he says what's on his mind.

“Well when I walked you home in the summer, you said that you ramble when you're drunk or nervous. And yes, on a few occasions we've seen each other lately we’ve been drunk, but you’re not now and you’re exactly the same.” Alex points out as he looks between you and the track listing on the back of your Brian Eno LP.

“You’re really chatty and jumpy when I come near you and it's like you’re flustered and jittery... Like the way a fan usually is but you’ve known me for too long for it to be that, so that’s why I'm asking,” Alex repeats himself, “Do I make you nervous?”

“Erm, yeah.” You nod, unable to say much else, “I guess you do.”

“In what way?” The singer asks you as he puts the record back where he found it before giving you his full attention and starts making his way over to you.

“I’m not scared of you or anything… You just really stress me out. I can never read you, never read what mood you’re in or even whether you like me as a person or you just think I’m Katie’s annoying friend that never shuts up.” You struggle for your words because you truly don’t know how to tell him without offending him. The last thing you’d want is for him to dislike you anymore.

But Alex’s gaze and increasing proximity makes you say more, “I don’t really know why you make me nervous after all this time. But you definitely unsettle me.”

You want to curl up into a ball and hide. You feel fidgety with the closer he gets and you want to avoid his gaze. But because he’s pointed it out, you don’t allow yourself. You stay strong and keep his eye contact despite his teasing.

“When you’re around me you talk like you- I don’t know how to describe it… You almost act like someone who's addicted to the E-numbers in sweets.” Alex grins, almost like it’s a little inside joke with himself. You try to keep yourself calm when he reaches his point, as he stops a few feet in front of you. “So that's why I’m curious if I made you nervous or not.”

“Well I guess the simple answer is yes.” You nod, but now with him so close, you try to look anywhere but at him.

This is far too awkward for your liking. Alex hums in response to that and he plucks another record that you recognise to be Histoire de Melody Nelson from your shelf that’s just beside you.

You think you’ve escaped the conversation now and you pray you can just go back to being awkwardly silent with each other and never relive that again. But apparently that’s not the plan.

Just as you were turning yourself around again to head upstairs, Alex leaves you shell shocked when he asks, “Do you want to fuck me?”

Instantly your eyes are the widest they could possibly get and you’re sure your jaw falls open. Looking at him intently to try and make sure you’re not dreaming this, you deadpan, “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Alex asks, putting the record back like it's the most casual thing to ask someone he barely speaks to, “Is that why I make you nervous?”

This should be the easiest response you’ve ever given him.

“I-”

But your words fail you. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

Wait… Do I want to fuck him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: So... What did you think??? What do you think is going to happen next??? Did you enjoy it? I really hope you did!

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist x

Taglist: @alovesreading @kennedy-brooke @ohladymoon @hazskillerqueen @more-multifandom-of-maddness @thereisaplaceintheheart

808 notes · View notes

bitchinbarzal · 5 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/bitchinbarzal/736733295226896384/do-it-lets-fuck-some-shit-up-cole-anon

At this point she was already pregnant (baby Luca) but she didn't know it

Mama Hischier was ready to raise this baby alone and in secret, i need drama

😮‍💨 oh bestie the angst. I know this doesn’t really fit with the original storyline but I’m going to make it because it’s too good.

Nico was in Switzerland for the summer with Naomi. You were supposed to fly Iris over half way through the off season before joining your girlfriends on a beach vacation in Greece then coming home to jersey.

However, plans change. You were sick, so severely sick.

You’d ended up calling Nico three weeks into the off season

“I need you to come back to jersey and get iris”

“What?! She’s not supposed to be here for another-“

“Nico, I can’t get into this with you can you do it or not? I can’t bring her there anymore”

You had it out on the phone, him accusing you of being difficult assuming it had something to do with Naomi being there or what he’d told you before he left.

It wasn’t, there was someone else you were too focused on.

Luckily, Timo’s girlfriend had shows in California so they were still in the states and they’d agreed to come to jersey after the shows were finished to get Iris and take her back to Switzerland with them.

You thought it best to let her go to her dads before it got bad.

Iris however was constantly watching you throw up, scared something was wrong. She was so worried.

You knew you were pregnant. Mom's intuition. And you were terrified.

You were scared, the fear from before was coming back up. Everything you’d been through four years ago was sitting at the forefront of your mind.

You were pregnant with Nico’s baby and he was trying to have a baby with someone else.

You hadn’t told him, after your conversations about him and Naomi you decided very selfishly, you’d do this alone.

In Switzerland, Iris was lapping up the love from her auntie, uncle, oma and opa.

All of them had watched her over the week and how Naomi interacted with her.

About a week into her trip, Iris was in bed ready to sleep when her grandma headed up to say goodnight. She stopped when she heard the little girl speak

“Is daddy coming to read to me?”

“No, your dad is busy. He doesn’t want to see you” Naomi snapped and his mom frowned listening to her tone “and Iris, I know your mommy sent you here to ruin our summer but please sweetheart just leave me and your daddy alone this week ok? You’re really bothering us”

She could hear the quiver in Iris’ voice “but mommy’s si-“

“I don’t care. she’s a pain in my side and so are yo-“

“Enough!” Iris scrambled out of bed to her grandma’s arms while Naomi tried to stumble out an excuse for what she’d clearly said.

“I think it’s best you leave Naomi, you’re not welcome in our house any longer”

They made off downstairs, Iris sniffling and Naomi yelling behind them about how they couldn’t kick her out, this wasn’t fair.

“Woah, what’s happening?” Nina asked, stopping the conversations she was having with her brothers and dad in the living room to focus solely on her distraught little niece.

Nico’s mom stared at him in a way she hadn’t since he was a child

“I want her out of our house, now”

He nodded, up out of his seat and straight towards Iris who shifted her head so she wasn’t looking at her father. Nico’s heart broke, he had no idea what was going on.

He left the house with Naomi and didn’t arrive back for almost two hours, by this time Iris was fast asleep in her uncles lap.

When he did come in the family were all waiting for him just as he’d left. He didn’t care about them, or what they had to say. He cared about Iris.

He approached her sleeping form and crouched down infront of her, kissing her cheek before lifting her up into his arms and taking her up to his bed.

He held her all night, still fully dressed in his clothes he’d worn all day. He just had to hold his girl.

When the morning came and Iris woke up she had to gather her surroundings before she saw Nico and cuddled into him some more

“Morning princess”

“Hi daddy”

He sucked in a breath before saying “You want to talk?”

Iris contemplated it for a minute before she said

“Are you and mommy fighting because mommy’s sick? Is that why Naomi doesn’t like mommy?”

Nico frowned “Mommy’s sick?”

Iris nodded "We went to the doctors home and she was crying" now Nico is internally panicking, a million thoughts running through his mind of what could be wrong with you.

"But the doctor lady gave mommy a present to take home and she was smiling after”

“What did she get?” He asks and Iris jumps out of bed, leaving the room momentarily before coming back in holding something.

He takes it from her hand and he is instantly relieved, it's just her sonogram. It takes him a moment before he quirks his head. That's not Iris. He knows her picture, it's in his stall, he sees it everyday.

Then he sees the name and date at the top.

You were pregnant.

Nico has a wave of emotions fall over him for a moment, anger, jealousy, hurt before he turns to Iris

“Mommy’s gonna be okay, ‘ris I promise”

She hums, still stuck into his side before she says

“Daddy?”

“Yeah squish?”

“I wanna go home to mommy”

“Yeah, me too”

So they travelled back to Jersey that night, the two of them needing your comfort.

You were in the middle of watching a movie when they came through the door, startling you

“Mama I’m home!” Iris shouted, jumping up onto the couch and into your arms

“Hi babygirl, what on earth are you guys doing back here?”you were looking at Nico to answer that.

He sat down next to you, pulling the blanket you had over him too then put down the sonogram on the coffee table infront of you both.

The smile on your face dropped and you looked at him, panicked.

“I hope it’s a boy” is all he says before grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

He knew. He knew it was his baby.

You squeezed his hand back “Not the baby mom you’d hoped for-“

“Hey” he grumbled “You’re the best mom and if I get the choice you’ll be the only mom to all of my kids”

“Neeks…”

“We’ll talk when she’s in bed ok?”

You nod, letting it go for now while watching Iris cuddle into your side to watch the movie and Nico’s hand spreads out across your belly.

He had everything he ever wanted under that roof

#life of Iris #Nico and mama

203 notes · View notes

mountttmase · 1 year

Note

reader purposely getting ex!mason jealous and him reminding her who she belongs too! a little bit of everything angst, fluffy, smut ;))

Let Me Try Again

Note - hope you all enjoy 💙 feedback would be lovely as usual 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4.5k

Warnings - fluff, smut and angst

Today was not supposed to be like this. You shouldn’t of been sat in the car next to your cousin’s best friend, you should of been sat next to Mason, in his car, before he opened your door for you to help you out. Leaving a kiss on your knuckles before he lead you by the hand up to the church where your cousin was about to tie the knot.

Instead your older cousin’s friend Ryan sat besides you, texting his mum to see where she and your mum we’re as you didn’t want to go into the church without them being there first.

‘They’re about five minutes away, we’ll get out in a sec’ he told you, looking over to see you staring out the window blankly. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah’ you sighed, giving him a smile

Today was meant to me the day Mason finally met your family. Yes maybe at a wedding with everyone was a bit unconventional but it seemed the easiest way. You’d been together 8 months and the pair of you hadn’t managed to sort out a time to meet with your family due to his busy schedule and whenever he was free, your family seemed to be busy. It’s not even like you lived far from each other but for some reason it just never worked out.

It had been bubbling for a few weeks but everything blew up when you asked him to attend the wedding a few months ago. You’d had it all figured out however he had his own plans, telling you he wanted you to come with him to a wedding of an old family friend and wasn’t taking no for answer.

You’d argued about it for hours, in the end telling him that he never listened to you and you were done with his attitude. He always got his own way and the one time you asked him for something he couldn’t seem to do it for you.

He didn’t put up a fight, telling you to leave if that’s what you wanted and you left his house in a puddle of tears whilst he carried on life normally. You checked in with his instagram and whilst you knew it wasn’t a total reflection of him, he seemed happier with you gone. You thought you were happier too, but you knew deep down you missed him. Yes you had things you needed to work on but you were both too stubborn to be the first one to break it seemed.

‘I’m just gonna get out and stand for a minute, I don’t want my dress to crease too much’ you told Ryan, hopping out of the car so you could smooth down the silk skirt of the dress you were in. You felt good in it, wanting to look better than usual today in hopes it would lift your mood but it didn’t seem to be working.

‘Y/n?’ You heard, turning around to be faced with the last person you thought you’d see.

‘Debbie? What are you doing here?’ You questioned. Trying to play it cool and make out that you were happy to see her when inside you felt your heart drop to your tummy. You’d met Masons family a few times at games and when they’d popped round to his house sometimes. She was always sweet to you, making sure to question Mason on why he wasn’t putting effort into your family and he always promised he’d get better but never did.

‘The groom lived next door to us growing up, we know the family and him and Mase were little besties when they were growing up’ she smiled and you felt your face flush at the mention of his name. ‘What about you?’

‘The brides my cousin’ you confirmed, suddenly noticing his brother and father come over to see you and you let out a breath of relief as you noticed Mason was nowhere to be seen. ‘Well I guess I’ll see you in there? Maybe we can have a catch up later on?’ You smiled but your face soon dropped, watching Mason emerge from the drivers seat of a car that was parked opposite yours and he looked over to you instantly.

He looked good. Better than good, dressed in a grey suit that fitted him perfectly with his hair how you always loved it, short on the sides and long on top with his facial hair growing in longer than you’d ever seen it. You felt your knees weaken at the sight of him as your eyes dropped to the floor.

The next thing you felt was a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see Ryan peering down at you with a sympathetic smile.

‘You ready to go in?’ He asked and you nodded up to him with a smile. You got how it must of looked to the rest of them, like Ryan was your date and you were half thankful he was here with you now but you noticed how Debbie’s face had dropped a little bit.

‘I’ll see you guys later’ you nodded before linking your arm though Ryans so he could lead you up towards the church. ‘Thanks Ry’ you huffed as you finally got out of earshot from them.

‘You alright?’ He asked, knowing that it was Mason standing across the car park giving you daggers. Your family knew you had been seeing someone but only Ryan knew who Mason actually was.

‘I’m fine, I knew today would be hard but now he’s here anyway? What the fuck’ you sulked and you pouted up at Ryan as he let out a little laugh. ‘I had no idea they knew each other’ you explained as you made your way to your seats, saying a quick hello to your family and putting on your brave face.

Today wasn’t about you, so you pushed the thought of Mason to the back of your mind, thankfully he was sitting on the other side of the aisle and a row behind you so you could forget about him for a little bit, focusing on the ceremony until you had to make your way outside to mingle. After 15 minutes or so you took yourself off, walking along by the little lake so you could gather your thoughts but a cough made you look up into the nervous face of Mason.

‘Hey, y/n’ he smiled but you were unsure of what to do, your eyes falling to the floor and he rubbed the back of his neck like he always did when he was uncomfortable. ‘Sorry, I just didn’t want things to be weird so I thought we could talk? But I get it, I’m sorry I’ll go’ he half smiled before turning to walk away but he didn’t get very far.

‘Wait’ you called quietly and he was quick to turn around and face you. ‘It’s fine. It was just a bit of a shock to see you here. I’m guessing this is the wedding you wanted me to go to?’ You asked, rolling your eyes with a smile, making him laugh a little bit.

‘It is yeah. And I take it this is the one you asked me to come to?’

‘Yeah’ you breathed and you shook your head with a smile. ‘That’s just great’ you laughed, covering your face with your hands as you shook your head. ‘Just proves everything I said. We never did really know how to communicate properly did we’ you sighed, crossing yours arms over you body and you caught the upset look on Masons face.

‘Well I don’t know about that’ he told you with furrowed brows but you didn’t want to get into all that with him right now, looking over to all the other guests to see Ryan looking at you with raised eyebrows.

‘I should get going’

‘Why? Don’t want your date seeing us together?’

‘Are you jealous?’ You laughed, but he just scoffed at you, his cocky side now coming out to play but you were ready to give it right back to him.

‘Jealous? Of him?’ He smiled, nodding his head in Ryan’s direction. ‘Don’t make me laugh y/n. Why on earth would I be jealous of him?’ He asked and your confidence melted away a tiny bit until his hand found its way to your hip, his lips coming to your ear. ‘I’m jealous that he’s got you on his arm, yeah. You look amazing and I wish you were with me. But I’m not jealous of him in the slightest’ he told you confidently and you felt your legs turn to jelly.

‘I need to go’ you whispered, detaching yourself from him and rushing over to Ryan. He was quick to put his arm around your shoulder and bring him into your side, trying to comfort you and you tucked yourself into him.

‘You alright?’ He whispered and you nodded lightly.

‘He thinks you’re my date’ you told him, rolling your eyes and Ryan laughed out loud, causing your auntie to slap him on the arm to get him to be quiet.

‘Well I hope you set him straight’

‘I was sort of hoping you’d play along for a bit’ you laughed, but he looked horrified.

‘That’s so gross I can’t believe you’d even ask that’

‘Hey! I’m not that bad and I’m desperate here, Ry. Please just help me out’

‘What on earth are you expecting me to do?’

‘Nothing, just carry on as we have been. We’ve already fooled him as it is we don’t need to do anything more’

‘Fine, but you owe me’ he winked before holding his elbow out for you to link which you did quickly, following the rest of your family inside so you could grab a needed drink.

‘Who’s that boy you were talking too?’ Your auntie asked as you got inside, picking up a glass of champagne and passing you one. You didn’t like the stuff at all but it was free and you were hoping it might loosen you up and take your mind off of Mason, but he seemed to be everywhere you looked.

‘Just an old friend’ you shrugged, hoping that would satisfy her enough to leave the subject alone but luck seemingly wasn’t on your side today and she carried on.

‘You should get in there, he’s gorgeous’ she winked but you just rolled your eyes with a smile before going to speak to your grandparents, hoping they wouldn’t tease you about your love life too.

Mason was sat on the other side of the room thankfully when it was finally time to eat and you could only see the top of his head moving if you turned to face him so you put it to the back of your mind for a few hours, finally let your hair down and enjoy yourself a bit.

After the speeches, you were stood outside on the decking with Ryan, nursing your third glass of free champagne when you decided you were off to the bar for some something different. You hadn’t had anything to actually hydrate you for most of the day and you could feel your legs wobble as you made your way inside. Unfortunately the queue was pretty long but soon enough you felt a hand around your waist and a body press up against your back. You knew who it was instantly, the aftershave he had on was always your favourite and you unconsciously relaxed into his body before he held out a bottle of water in front of you.

‘What’s this’ you laughed, taking it from him and you felt his lips on your ear soon after.

‘It’s just water’ Mason murmured ‘don’t worry I haven’t done anything to it, the seals still intact’ he joked and you quickly inspected the lid before opening it and taking a sip. ‘See? All I’ve seen you drinking is champagne and you don’t even like the stuff’ he commented, your heart racing at the fact he’d been so observant with you and you were about to speak but your thirst took over you and you started gluging the water down.

Masons name was suddenly called from the end of the bar, and when you looked over there was an empty section that wasn’t in use where the bar manager seemed to be waving him over. He pulled you with him by the waist and the man gave the pair of you a smile.

‘Thought id save you queuing, what can I get you?’ He smiled and Mason looked slightly uncomfortable but smiled back at him.

‘Just a bottle of water please mate, and an apple juice’ he told him and with a quick nod he was off.

‘Trust you to get special treatment’ you laughed, turning to him but he looked a little embarrassed.

‘It’s not like I asked for it, I was happy waiting’ he told you, dragging you closer to him a bit and for some reason you didn’t fight him. It felt nice to be back in his company and sort of be on good terms. You kept your hands to yourself though, not wanting to give him any sort of weird impression but he didn’t seems to mind, his eyes flickering all over your face as you stood in front of him.

‘Here you go, you want it on your tab?’ He asked, setting the drinks down and Mason nodded before the guy walked off, leaving the pair of you alone again. He pushed the glass of apple juice over to you slowly and you looked up at him with curious eyes.

‘For me?’ You questioned and he nodded liked it was obvious.

‘It’s your favourite, right?’

‘Well yeah…’

‘I know your arms get weird if you drink too much. I’m just looking out for you’ He laughed, grabbing you a straw as you looked up at him through your lashes.

It was endearing how much he remembered, even silly things like how alcohol affected your body or how you liked to drink with a straw. You weren’t sure what to say or do though, frowning and becoming more confused when he turned you so your back was pressed against the bar and he stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whole room.

‘So what’s his name?’

‘What?’

‘This guy, what’s his name?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘I’m just curious. He seems really close with all your family’

‘Well that’s what happens when you all spend time together’

‘How long have you been together?’ He asked but you caught onto what he was insinuating right away.

‘Are you accusing me of cheating?’ You laughed but his face remained the same blank expression.

‘Not at all, I just think it’s weird how close you all are and we only broke up two months ago. It doesn’t make sense’ he commented and you were furious that he’d even mentioned it however you had been lying to him all day.

You scoffed, looking to the left of you where you caught sight of Ryan coming back inside, scanning the room, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pair of you.

‘I should go’ you told Mason, pushing your way out of his grip and surprisingly he let you go. ’Thanks for the drink’ you whispered before stalking off to Ryan who tucked you under his arm.

‘Do I wanna know?’ He asked

‘He practically accused me of cheating’ you huffed ‘said you look too close to my family’

‘That’s because I am, this is so fucking weird, y/n just tell him’ he joked and you laughed along with him.

‘I will, I will. I just wanna make him suffer a little bit first’

You kept away from Ryan, but your eyes were fixed on Mason constantly, hoping to get under his skin. He was looking at you too, watching with wide eyes as you sucked your drink through the straw seductively and how your hips moved when you danced as the band started playing. You made sure to keep your distance though, whenever he slyly made his closer to you, you’d make sure you kept away and you saw how he pouted each and every time. You even lost him for a little bit while you were dancing, eyes constantly looking for him but it seemed no use, thinking maybe he’d left as he didn’t want to watch you teasing him anymore.

You made a quick dash to the loo a little while later and just as you were leaving you felt someone push you back inside and lock the door on the pair of you.

‘Mason? What on earth are you doing? You can’t lock me in here’ you laughed looking in the mirror and touching up your makeup as he stood with his arms crossed, blocking your exit.

‘You’re ignoring me’

‘How can I ignore you when you’ve disappeared for half an hour? What do you expect anyway? We’re ex’s Mason, we’re not supposed to speak’

‘But that’s not what I want’

‘Here we go again’ you huffed, turning to face him as you sat back on the sink slightly. ‘Everything’s all about what you want’

He didn’t say a word, just sighed as he looked to the floor, chewing his lip like he always did when he was upset. You hated the way he still had an effect on you and you felt yourself soften at his sad eyes.

‘This guy? Does he make you happy?’ He asked quietly, staring you down to see your reaction but you were done playing games with him now.

‘He’s my cousin’s friend, Mason.’

‘What?’ He asked with a disbelieving stare, his brows now furrowing.

‘He’s not my boyfriend or my date or whatever else. He’s my cousin’s friend, practically my family and I just went along with what you were saying because I didn’t want you to think I was some lonely looser’ you admitted

‘Oh’ he said, sounding surprised but you couldn’t look at him. Instead focusing on your fingers as you played with them in your lap. He didn’t move for a few moments, but you felt him stand eventually, making the few steps over to you before tilting your chin up so you’d look at him. His face was blank, you couldn’t tell what was going on behind his eyes but your heart was in your throat. ‘So you were trying to make me jealous on purpose?’ He asked, a small smile tugging at his lips and you knew he wasn’t mad at you.

‘Not on purpose’ you smiled and he raised his brows as if he didn’t believe you. ‘You just assumed and I didn’t correct you’ you shrugged as he stepped back before pulling you up and turning you to face the mirror so you could look at the pair of you. His hands settling on your waist and you instinctively lent back into him.

‘Look at yourself’ he whispered, lips to your ear as you felt your legs wobble, fingertips trailing up and down your sides making your arms erupt in goosebumps. ‘You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I don’t care what you say, you’re mine and you always will be so yeah, seeing you with some other guy who I don’t know is gonna make me jealous’ he told you, your heart hammering as he kissed your neck before nibbling in your shoulder. ‘Mine, yeah? No one else’s’ he breathed and you were about to speak but the reflection of his eyes in the mirror made you stop. ‘You gonna let me show you?’ He asked, already gathering up the skirt of your dress so he could access you and you didn’t argue with him or push him off, just slowly rested yourself on your hands so you were slightly bent over for him, parting your legs as soon as you felt his fingers brush over your underwear. ‘That’s it, good girl. You know exactly what I want don’t you?’

You couldn’t reply, his fingers on your clit instantly, rubbing slow circles and you nearly lost your mind straight away. Mason was the last person to touch you like this and he was still as good as ever, seeming to know what your body needed more than you did and he teased the life out of you.

‘Mason’ you breathed as his fingers worked their magic on you and you heard him growl into your neck.

‘Fuck I’ve missed that sound’ he told you, his hand leaving your waist so he could unzip his trousers and pull himself free. It wasn’t long before you felt him at your entrance casing a loud moan to tumble from your throat. He quickly pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean before he was covering your mouth. ‘Quiet, baby’ he whispered and you had to grip the sides of the sink so you didn’t melt at his words before he was pushing into you.

You couldn’t deny you’d missed the feeling of him between your thighs, the way he filled you up like no one else could and the fact you could see him in the mirror and he was holding your eye contact made you want to scream on the spot. But he was right, you had to be quiet so you wouldn’t be caught.

‘Gonna let me fill you up, baby?’ He asked as you took a couple of his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them gently as you faintly tasted yourself.

‘Please, Mase’ you spoke around his fingers as you felt him thrust into you a little bit harder.

‘Good girl’ he breathed, kissing the back of your neck as he grabbed a handful of you bum. ‘You’ll be walking around with me dripping out of you soon. Cause you’re mine, yeah? No one else’s’ he told you and soon after you were cuming around him, the feeling of you pulsing around him causing him to follow not long after.

You felt him pull out and attempt to clean you up before pulling your dress down back to where it was and turning you to face him. He moved to touch your face, running his thumb along your bottom lip to clean your lipstick up before tucking your hair behind your ear as you adjusted the knot on his tie that had come a bit loose.

Unsure of what was going to happen next, you kept your eyes on his chest until he dropped his head to catch your eyes, forcing you to look at him.

‘What happens now?’ You whispered and his face softened instantly.

‘What do you want to happen?’ He asked, his hands settling on your hips. ‘I meant what I said. You’re mine, yeah? I still want you’ he whispered and you felt your heart thud in your chest. ‘But I get it if you need more time’ he told you with a smile and a kiss to the forehead. You wanted to tell him you were done playing around and you were his, but you knew it would take more than a quick fuck in a toilet to sort out all your problems and you didn’t want to pick up exactly where you’d left off. ‘As much as I want to spend the rest of the evening alone with you I don’t think it’s best we hide out in here. Maybe I could come find you in a little bit?’

‘Okay’ you agreed and with a quick kiss to your cheek, he opened the door and left.

You took a second to collect yourself, laughing at the fact you were trying to keep away from him you you’d just let him fuck you in here and with one quick glance over yourself, you left. You didn’t know who you were looking for or where you wanted to go, but when you saw Debbie stood talking to a couple of other women and you felt drawn to her.

She noticed you coming, waving you over with bright eyes and pulling you into a quick hug that made you smile. You had a quick catch up before the subject of Ryan came up where you assured her he was your cousin’s friend and she let out a laugh.

‘Well I know Mason will be happy about that he’s been a right mardy bum today’ she joked and you couldn’t help but giggle. ‘I don’t know what happened but he didn’t tell me things were finished until last week’ she told you, rolling her eyes.

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yeah, I think if the wedding wasn’t today, he wouldn’t of said anything for a lot longer. I always told him he’d be stupid to let you go’ she huffed and you gave her a small smile.

‘Look Debbie, I love your son, I really do. But sometimes he’s…’

‘A bit of an arse?’ She finished and you both erupted into giggles. ‘Trust me love, I know. I raised him. But I also know how kind he is and how loving he is and how highly he thinks of you. He wouldn’t of been such a grump seeing you today otherwise’ she told you and you nodded in agreement. Deep down, you knew all of this already. ‘Speak of the devil’ she whispered as you felt a hand on your lower back.

‘Hey, mum’ he smiled, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Do you mind if I steal y/n for a bit?’ He asked sheepishly and Debbie’s eyes flew to meet yours so you gave her a small smile and a nod before she patted him on his shoulder.

‘Don’t mess this up’ she told him quietly and you all laughed as she walked off, leaving the pair of you alone.

‘Will you come outside with me?’ He asked you with a smile and you nodded before he grabbed your hand and took you onto the decking where most people were gathered now. The sun was almost set, turning the sky a beautiful orange and pink colour and even though it had been warm all day, there was a slight chill in the air. The fairy lights hanging along all the wooden frame work of the decking made you feel like you were in a fairytale as he lead you into the middle of the dance floor.

He turned to face you with a shy smile, quickly taking off his jacket before helping you put it on so you wouldn’t be cold and you felt yourself blush as his scent overwhelmed you. You couldn’t look at him, eyes on the floor until he took your hands in his, placing one on his chest before wrapping his arm around your waist, threading his fingers through yours on the other hand before pulling you even closer.

The music was slow, and the pair of you were silent as he gently swayed you from side to side. You rested your head on his chest whilst he placed his cheek on the top of your head.

You felt the tears in your eyes slowly form, being this close to him and not knowing what it all meant. You didn’t want to get your hopes up for him to tear you down soon so you started to pull away but he didn’t let you, holding you even closer to him before tilting your face up to his.

‘What’s wrong?’ He’s asked, face now looking at you full of sympathy as he realised how upset you were. ‘Talk to me’ he breathed but you just nestled your head into his neck, unsure of what you wanted to say. ‘Can I say something then?’ He questioned and you nodded, dropping you arms to around his waist as he looped his around your back. ‘I miss you. I miss you a lot and I know I didn’t treat you right in the end. I was selfish and immature and I completely get if you don’t want to be around me anymore. Im still learning I guess, like how to be good enough for you cause I know I wasn’t, but it’s pretty obvious we’re not meant to be apart. I know I let you down and I’m sorry’

You breathed out a sigh of relief into his neck, thankful you were both sort of on the same page. You missed him too and you knew you didn’t want to be without him anymore.

‘I’m sorry too’ you whispered pulling back to look at him but he seemed confused. ‘It wasn’t all you. I feel like we forgot how to talk to each other in the end. Like I planed this whole day out in my head and just assumed you’d come’ you chuckled

‘You don’t need to be sorry for that, it should of never of got to that point’ he told you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You both were a quiet after that, slowly swaying from side to side as you clung to each other but you still had a few questions for him.

‘Hey, Mase?’

‘Yeah’ he smiled, happy with the fact you’d used his nickname.

‘Why didn’t you tell your parents we were over? ‘ you asked and you saw his face drop as he shrugged his shoulders, his eyes looking anywhere but you as he clearly felt a little embarrassed.

‘Cause I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Telling them made it real and I knew I’d messed up’

‘Why didn’t you want to meet my family either?’

‘It’s not I didn’t want to’ he told you, finally looking down at you again so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. ‘Just scared I guess. I wanted them to like me’ he said and you gave him an understanding nod before he smiled at you brightly. ‘But you’ll be happy to know, I’ve spoken to your mum and I’m pretty sure she loves me’ he winked

‘You what?’ You laughed, pulling back so you could get a proper look at him but the way he was blushing let you know he was telling the truth.

‘Yeah, when you were shaking your bum trying to rile me’ up he joked and you blushed at him calling you out before he kissed your cheek gently ‘but yeah I went and introduced myself’

‘Wait, what did you say?’

‘I don’t really remember I was sort of bricking it. Told her I was a friend of yours and stuff but I think I made a good impression’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Of course. She asked if I was single and if I would ever consider taking you out on a date’ he winked and you hid your face from him again, blushing furiously at the thought of your mum trying to set you up. ‘I told her I would love to, that I’ve wanted to for weeks and that I hope I could convince you cause you deserve to be treated like the princess you are’ he told you softly and you felt you eyes well up before you looked up at him. ‘So what do you say? Will you let me try again?’

You didn’t speak, afraid of how your voice would sound but you nodded up at him with a smile before he crashed his lips into yours. You didn’t mind though, you’d been itching to feel his lips on yours since the second you’d seen him get out of the car this morning and you completely lost yourselves as you stood in the middle of everyone sharing the sweetest kiss you’d ever had.

‘I bet your mum thinks I’ve put the moves on you quickly’ he joked as he pulled away and you quickly looked over to her, seeing her smiling widely with her hands clutched over her chest. ‘We should probably go and talk to her, I feel like I need to explain who I am properly’ he laughed and you smiled up at him sweetly.

‘How about you get me another apple juice first and then we go see her?’ Her you winked as he took your hand, slowly walking you back inside and towards the bar.

‘You drive a hard bargain’ he laughed and you followed him inside, your heart feeling more whole than it had in months. You knew it wouldn’t be easy and things would have to changed but as you caught the dimpled smile of your favourite brown eyed boy, you knew things would be okay.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount blurb #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount request #mason mount concept #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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astoryisaloveaffair · 5 days

Text

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year

Note

Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍

Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing.

Masterlist

You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life.

It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick.

The day had been bad for many reasons.

One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on.

Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too.

Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written.

However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into.

Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it.

Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build.

And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?”

A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed.

Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you.

“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.”

“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth.

The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace.

You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through.

It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately…

Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much.

Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night.

It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you.

You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of.

Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person.

Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat.

It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.

Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like.

Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.

The Colonel missed nothing.

“You look like shit.”

Wow. Don’t beat around the bush.

“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?”

“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.

“Good for her.”

“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.”

You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?”

He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.”

You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.”

“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The anniversary is this week, is it not?”

He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was.

At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up.

He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague.

“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?”

Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both.

He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk.

He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone.

He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?

It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom.

It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge.

You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.

“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?”

Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ...

“What?”

“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?”

“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?”

“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?”

You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you.

But you didn't stop.

You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe.

When did it become so hard to breathe?

When had the room become so small?

Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible?

It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead.

The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them…

It brought you to your knees.

“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?”

Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.

You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him.

When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him.

He knew that look.

“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.”

He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate.

“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.

It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do.

Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.

You were exhausted.

Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.

Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.

“T... thank you.”

You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.

No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.

So you sat.

And smoked.

And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.

Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose.

He stood and offered you a hand.

His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.”

“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment.

His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back.

He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze.

It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired.

“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.”

You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside.

There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too -

Wait, Connie?

You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home.

You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills.

To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders.

It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea.

They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place.

Damn it.

You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news.

If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them.

They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired...

Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall.

You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on.

“-called Javi- no reply.”

“Carillo - try again -”

“-worried about her - stressed.”

Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.

"Sweetheart?"

You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.

"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.

Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.

“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”

Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms.

The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself.

“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”

And you believed him.

"I love you, Javi. So much."

"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"

He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.

Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.

You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.

It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.

Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...

He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.

But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.

So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.

He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation.

He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you.

Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.

#narcos masterlist #narcos fanfic #narcos imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #steve murphy #connie murphy #colonel carrillo #colonel carillo #ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #pedro pascal

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maximoffcarter · 21 days

Text

Happier.

Pairings: Casey Novak x reader, Past Olivia Benson x reader.

Summary: The moment reader met Olivia, she knew it was over for her. Two 'straight girls' loving each other behind everyone's backs was meant to be cute and the perfect love story, but it doesn't always work that way. And then, there was Casey Novak.

A/n: Here is the winner of the poll! Once again, bestie here @saurgaeee giving me the ideas. I really do have to give her most of the credit because this amazing girl is pushing me to write all this great ideas and keeps me writing everyday and I love every moment of it, so please thank my bestie here. I gotta say that...I kinda feel bad for Olivia, but if you ask me...I'll always choose my wife Casey Novak. If you got any requests, please don't be shy and drop them at my ask box or message me, I’m kind of getting over the requests and ideas and I do wanna write more haha! Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

“Hey! Y/n is here!” Elliot smiled as y/n walked to them.

“Hi guys.” Y/n smiled softly as she stood beside Olivia.

“What brings our favorite therapist here?” Munch said as he sat on his chair, offering a smile.

“Don’t let Huang hear you or he’ll be hurt.” Fin joked.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “We have different but similar professions. I don’t think Huang will mind.” She grinned as she looked at Munch. “I was on my way to court, but I thought you’d need a copy of my report from the Lopez case. I have some time before I need to be there.” She placed the file on Elliot’s desk. She then smiled as she looked back at Olivia. “Can I talk to you?” She whispered softly, enough for Olivia to hear.

Olivia nodded as she offered a small smile. “Sure.” She looked back at the guys and smiled. “Be right back, gonna walk y/n out.” She placed her hand on y/n’s back and walked with her.

Truth was that y/n had not only stopped by the precinct to drop off the file, but also because she has been wanting all day to go visit Olivia. They had been secretly dating for a whole year and whenever they had a chance, they’d visit each other, Olivia more often than y/n since they had not told anyone about it. The moment y/n met Olivia, she knew she was screwed because Olivia was in her mind 24/7. Y/n sighed softly as they walked to one of the offices that were pretty much empty, and the squad wouldn’t be able to see that they had gone in there. As soon as the door closed, Olivia placed her hands on y/n’s waist and pushed her against the door, kissing her lips softly. Y/n sighed against her lips as she kissed her back, her hands going to Olivia’s neck to pull her closer, but when she felt Olivia’s hand going under her shirt, she pulled away and looked down, placing her hand on Olivia’s chest to stop her.

Olivia furrowed her brows as she looked at y/n. “Is something wrong?”

Y/n shook her head as she huffed a chuckle. “Liv…we really need to talk about us.” She looked up at Olivia.

“What about us?” Olivia asked softly as she took a step back.

Y/n nibbled on her lip as she looked away for a moment, shrugging as she scoffed. “The fact that after a whole year together…you’re still pulling me into empty offices so you can kiss me, but whenever we’re out of the apartment or the office, it’s like you barely know me.” She looked back at Olivia. “I don’t want to pressure you into coming out. I don’t want to be that person that pressures you into telling everyone that you’re dating a girl, because I am not that person. But Liv…how long is this gonna keep going?”

Olivia took a deep breath as she looked away. She shook her head softly, trying to find the right words to say. “I- I don’t know. I just…I’m not ready.”

“Olivia is not like I’m asking you to put it on the papers. I’m not asking you to tell the whole precinct that we’re dating. But I just cannot be a secret anymore. I want to hold your hand, I want to be able to hug you without you being tensed, I want to take you out on dates, I want to be your person. I want to tell you that I love you without being cautious of who is listening to us.” Y/n sighed as she walked to Olivia and held her hands. “Olivia…I hate to be this person, I really do. But how much longer are we gonna keep pretending that we’re nothing to the world?”

Olivia sighed as she looked down and shook her head. “I just can’t do it.” She looked up at y/n and shrugged. “I’ve told you before why I don’t want to go public.”

“I know the risk of your job. But we both know that’s not the real reason.” Y/n smiled sadly. She then sighed as she leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. “I’ll call you later.” She turned to leave.

“You’re not coming over today?”

Y/n turned to look at Olivia as she opened the door. “I don’t know.” She stared at Olivia for a moment and then left the office.

Y/n knew better than to pressure someone to come out, she had treated so many people before who had told her about how hard it was for them to come out to their families or friends, how it could ruin their life or their jobs, she’s had so many people asking for advice on what to do, and she’s heard of others who have admitted that even if it would affect their lives, they could and would come out. She herself had been hiding who she truly was since she could remember, and the reality was that Olivia had been the person that made her break that idea that she was straight.

She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Olivia, she had been in denial of falling for the ‘straight girl’ when she herself had considered herself to be one, but the more she spent time with her, the more she wanted to be with her and the fact that Olivia flirted with her every possible chance, gave away the fact that neither of them were straight. So, she gave them a chance. And no, she didn’t regret it, she had fallen for Olivia, and she somehow knew that Olivia felt the same, but lately, it had been more obvious that Olivia had no intention of mentioning that y/n was her girlfriend. She hated the position she was in, asking Olivia to not be a secret anymore, but she had lived in the dark for so long that she didn’t want to be stuck in there more time.

********************

Olivia knocked softly, looking around as she waited for y/n to open. Once she heard the door opening, she smiled softly as she looked at y/n. “Hi.”

Y/n offered a small smile. “I figured you’d come.” She said softly.

“I couldn’t just leave our conversation like that.”

Y/n nodded and stepped aside to let Olivia in. “I know.”

Olivia walked into the apartment and waited for y/n to close the door. She turned to look at her and offered a smile. “Have you eaten?”

Y/n nodded. “I just finished. I have some leftovers if you want some.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Anything to drink?”

“I’m good.” Olivia cleared her throat as she looked down at her hands. “Y/n, I-“

“I can’t do this anymore, Liv.” Y/n whispered softly as she looked at Olivia, her eyes watering.

Olivia looked up at y/n, feeling a pressure in her chest. “Y/n…please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry…” Y/n bit her lip as she tried to hold back her tears. “Olivia, we can’t keep this going. I don’t want to be the reason you push yourself to come out. I hate to be that person, and earlier I figured out that I was, and I felt like a hypocrite. I don’t want to pressure you, I don’t want to push you to do that. But I cannot do this. I can’t be hiding again, not when I did it for a long time, I cannot go back to that.” She sobbed softly as she shook her head. “You made me realize who I truly was, and maybe it was me that I just felt safe enough to put it out there, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to do the same. You’re…you’re amazing, Liv. I don’t want us to end up in bad terms. So I’m setting you free.”

Olivia shook her head as she walked to y/n, her hands going to y/n’s cheeks and kissing her forehead softly. “No. Y/n, please. Don’t do this. I just…I can’t. I’m just figuring out who I am, and what I want. This job…I need you, y/n.” She pulled away enough to look down at y/n.

Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to avoid Olivia’s stare. “You don’t have to do anything, Olivia.” She looked at Olivia as she sobbed, tears now rolling down her cheeks. “You can do this at your own pace, and I’ll be here if you need me. But I cannot be part of it anymore. I cannot go at your pace anymore. I need to go at my own pace. And if we keep pushing, if we keep trying…we’re just gonna keep hurting each other, Liv.”

Olivia closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head softly. “I’m sorry.” She whispered softly.

Yn smiled sadly, kissing Olivia’s forehead softly. “I’m sorry too.” She whispered and pulled away to look at Olivia, her hands grabbing Olivia’s and kissing the back of them softly. “I’ll be here.”

Olivia nodded as she took a deep breath. “I should go…”

“Okay.” Y/n nodded as she let go of Olivia’s hands.

Olivia opened the door and stood there for a moment, looking back at y/n. “You know I love you, right?”

Y/n smiled sadly. “Yes.”

Olivia nodded one last time before she walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind her.

********************

Casey groaned as she looked down at her watch, waiting for the doors of the elevator to open. She thought she had more time to get to court but it seemed like destiny was not on her side that day and the traffic had been worst than it usually was. So now, here she was, standing right in front of the elevator, hoping that she could make it up in the next 5 minutes. As the doors opened, she went inside and pressed the buttons to close the doors and to the floor she needed to get to, but before the doors closed, she heard someone yelling to stop the doors, and even if she wanted to be selfish that day, she knew that she’d want someone to hold the doors for her if she was the one yelling, so she did just that.

“Thanks.” Y/n breathed out as she literally ran into the elevator, offering a small to Casey.

Casey nodded as she returned the smile. “Floor?”

Y/n looked at the floors and smiled. “Going to the same one.” She looked at Casey and for a moment felt her heart stopping as she noticed the redhead. She cleared her throat and looked at the doors, trying not to look at the redhead again.

Both of them fell into silence as they waited to get to their floor, but again, it seemed like destiny was not in the mood to be nice that day, and suddenly they heard a loud sound coming from the elevator, and suddenly it stopped. While y/n pressed herself again the wall grabbing her cellphone, Casey cursed under her breath and tried to press any button, but nothing was working, groaning as she realized that she’d not get to her arraignment in time. She pressed the emergency button and then got her cellphone out, calling someone to let them know that she was stuck in the elevator, and she wouldn’t make it.

“Guess destiny is not on justice’s side, huh?” Y/n joked as she looked at Casey, a faint grin on her face. “Unless you’re here for the defense?”

Casey huffed a chuckle. “The first one sounds right.” She turned to look at y/n and smiled. “You?”

Y/n shrugged. “I was supposed to testify but…guess that won’t be happening today.”

Casey chuckled softly as she nodded. “Yep.” She put her cellphone back in her briefcase and sighed. “Well…guess we’ll be here for a while.” She offered a smile and extended her hand. “I’m Casey.”

“I’m y/n.” Y/n smiled softly as she took Casey’s, for a moment her breathing stopped again as she held her hand for a little longer than she expected, noticing Casey’s faint smirk on her face. She let go of her hand and cleared her throat, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. “So…uh…ADA?”

“Yeah, actually. I recently started in SVU.”

Y/n scoffed as she looked down at the floor. “I’m familiar with it.”

Casey’s smile fainted a little as she looked at y/n. “Oh. I’m-“

Y/n looked back at Casey. “No! No, I mean…I’ve worked with them. I’m…I’m a therapist. I used to…to treat some of the victims.”

“Oh! Yes, I…heard Huang mentioning you once. They really miss you.” Casey grinned.

Y/n shrugged as she grinned. “Can’t say I’m not better than Huang but.” She chuckled softly.

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “Well, I’d definitely love to work with you if you ever think about going back.” She grinned.

Y/n stared at her for a moment, a smile appearing on her face without her noticing. “To see me or to actually work with me?”

Casey shrugged. “Maybe both.” She nibbled on her lip as she tried to hold back a smile.

Y/n’s eyes landed on Casey’s lips, suddenly she was left speechless. Her eyes went back to green ones, her smile widening. “We can always go for a coffee, or…lunch?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Casey smiled, looking into her briefcase, and getting a small card along with a pen. She wrote something on it and then handed it to y/n. “That’s my personal number. We can arrange a day and time.”

Y/n looked down at it and smiled softly, nodding her head as she looked back at Casey. “Sounds like a plan.”

Before they could say anything else, the doors to the elevator opened, making them turn their heads and look at the officers that had forced the doors open. Casey mentioned that she had to run but that she’d see her again soon and then exited the elevator, leaving y/n with a smile on her face as she watched her go. She walked out of the elevator and looked down at the card in her hand, smiling as she saw her name and the phone number. She had told herself that she would only focus on herself after the heartbreak that she had gone through 6 months ago, but she was not about to lose a chance to go on a date with a pretty redhead. Maybe after all, destiny hadn’t been as bad as she thought.

********************

“Do you really need to go to that conference?” Casey pouted as she looked at y/n.

Y/n chuckled softly as she walked around the desk and pushed Casey’s chair back, so she was able to sit on her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck and pecking her lips softly. “It’s just for 2 days, and I won’t be too far away. I’ll just be in Chicago.” She ran her hand through Casey’s hair. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yeah, well, I got a lot of work so that’s good.” Casey smiled softly as she looked up at her girlfriend. “I can take you to the airport in the morning, I got some time.”

Y/n smiled softly. “I’d love that actually.” She chuckled as she leaned down and kissed her lips softly. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“You know we are, wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Casey whispered against her lips. “But, I do have to go to court right now. I got some motions and need to pay a visit to Petrovsky.”

“Of course you do.” Y/n chuckled as she stood up.

“You wanna come with me? We are going the same way anyway.” Casey stood up and grabbed her briefcase, looking back at her and smiling.

Y/n smiled softly and nodded. “Sure.”

It had been a whole year since Casey and y/n had started dating. Y/n had been more than nervous once things started getting serious with Casey to say the least, after their first date, y/n thought that maybe Casey would want to leave it there and they wouldn’t go for a second date, but Casey had been so sweet and charming, looking at y/n in a way that made her feel butterflies in her stomach and she was pretty sure that the whole date, she had been blushing like a teenager. The date had been longer than she had expected, they had stayed at the coffee shop for so long, and then they walked around for a while until they got back to y/n’s. The second date, Casey had taken her to a fancy and beautiful restaurant, and y/n felt like she was in heaven by the way Casey was treating her, everything was just perfect.

Y/n really found it pretty hard to think that she had someone like Casey in her life, things seemed too good to be truth and when Casey confessed she wanted them to be more, y/n felt so scared to be a secret again, but there was not turning back now, not when she was falling hard for Casey, and she wanted nothing more than to give their relationship a chance; and she had taken the best decision ever. The first time she thought Casey would only introduce her as a friend, was one time that Casey had invited her to the batting cages; y/n had told Casey that she wanted to see her play or at least practice, so Casey had invited her to come with her after work. What she didn’t expect was to find some of Casey’s colleagues that also happened to practice there, and when Casey had greeted them, she had thought about stepping aside and wait until she was done talking to them, but to her surprise, Casey grabbed her hand and pulled her to her side to introduce her as her girlfriend.

Y/n remembered the way her heart almost burst out of her chest at the love and happiness she felt, for a moment she believed she was dreaming, but when Casey wrapped her arm around her waist and pulled her closer, she knew it was real. That’s when y/n figured out that Casey was not ashamed of showing her off and that she really meant it when she said she was in love with her. She had told Casey about her failed relationship with Olivia but never told her it had been with her, just told her what had happened, so she thought maybe Casey wanted to show her that she was willing to make their relationship work. That was the first time that y/n had felt truly free, not afraid to show who she was and to show the person she loved, it was when she figured out that she couldn’t imagine her life without Casey, and that she’d do anything to keep her in it.

“Please call me once you’re in the hotel.” Casey said as she placed y/n’s suitcase on the floor, wrapping her arms around y/n’s waist and smiling. “And please be safe.”

Y/n chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around Casey. “I will be, Novak. I’m a big girl.” She smiled.

“You’re still my baby.” Casey grinned as she kissed her forehead softly.

Y/n blushed slightly as she looked up at Casey. “I’ll miss you.” She grinned.

Casey smiled, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “Just 2 days, and then I’ll pick you up and we’ll go for dinner.”

“And dessert?” Y/n raised her brow playfully as she smirked.

Casey chuckled as she leaned down. “That one will be when we get home.” She whispered in her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.

Y/n bit her lip and pushed Casey’s back enough to look at her. “Case!” She chuckled softly. “I cannot wait.”

Casey smiled and pecked her lips one more time. “I love you.”

Y/n smiled softly. “I love you more. Be safe yourself.” She pecked her lips and then grabbed her suitcase. “Try not to miss me too much!” She yelled as she walked away.

“I’ll try my best.” Casey chuckled as she watched her girlfriend go.

*******************

“Thanks for coming for a drink with me.” Olivia said as she looked back at Casey, offering a small smile.

Casey shrugged. “Of course, I knew you needed one, and I never say no to one either.” She grinned.

Olivia chuckled as she looked down at her drink. “Elliot told you what happened in there, huh?”

“Yeah...” Casey offered a sympathetic smile. “I don’t blame you for going off on him.”

“He was so proud of wanting to marry a fifteen year old.” Olivia scoffed. “Fifteen, Casey. And he swore that because he offered a good life, it was okay. And he called me a bitter bitch.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. “Though…he might be right.”

Casey frowned. “What you mean?”

Olivia sighed. “I had my chance…to have a good relationship. Someone who really cared about me, didn’t mind my job or hectic hours. They looked out for me, always. They made sure I was okay and made sure I knew I was loved.” She smiled sadly as she looked up at Casey. “I lost it, because I was stupid enough to let them go.”

Casey tilted her head as she listened to Olivia. “We all make mistakes, Liv.”

“I was an idiot, Case. I’m sure they’d have done everything for me and, I just…blew it.” Olivia sighed heavily as she played with her glass, staring at it. “It took me a while but…I figured out that they could’ve been the one.” She looked at Casey and smiled. ��You got someone waiting for you?”

Casey smiled as she nodded. “Well…she’s on a trip right now but…I do.”

Olivia smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Would you give up everything for her?”

Casey smiled softly as she looked down at her drink. She nodded softly then, looking up at Olivia. “I would.” She said softly. “I cannot imagine life without her. It’s the first time in years that I actually feel loved and the first time in years that I actually am willing to give everything for her.”

Olivia smiled. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Casey chuckled.

“And who’s the lucky girl? Someone I know?”

Casey tilted her head. “Actually-“

Olivia looked down at her phone and groaned as she picked up. “Benson.” She sighed as she stood up. “I’m on my way.”

“Everything okay?”

Olivia shook her head. “Apparently not.” She was about to reach in her pocket to get some money.

“Hey, it’s on me. Go.”

Olivia offered a smile. “Thank you.” She said before she left the bar.

********************

“So, we have nothing?” Casey looked back at them.

“It’s bull. He’s not mentally ill. He’s trying to trick us.” Elliot said as he looked back at Casey. “Let’s wait for Huang and he’ll tell us that he’s manipulating us.”

“Huang said he asked for a favor, he can’t come.” Cragen said as he walked to where the squad was.

“Who is it?” Olivia asked but before Cragen could answer, they all looked at the doors.

Casey smiled. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

Olivia turned to look at the person that Casey was greeting, and she felt her heart dropping as her eyes laid on y/n. Did she hear Casey say baby? Was that…shit. After Olivia and y/n had broken up, y/n had decided to not accept any more cases from SVU, she had asked Huang if he could find someone else because she wanted to fully focus on private practice, and SVU cases were taking a lot of time from her, so she never really saw Olivia again. Even though she had said that she didn’t want them to end on bad terms, y/n couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Olivia and working with her when her heart was completely broken. As for Olivia, she had tried to call y/n a bunch of times, but she never answered again and after hearing that she wouldn’t go to the precinct anymore, she knew then that y/n wanted nothing to do with her. So seeing her here after so long, almost 2 years later, and now knowing that she was the girl Casey had been talking about, broke Olivia’s heart even more.

Y/n stared at Olivia for a moment but then decided to walk to Casey who was already walking to her. “Huang called me. Asked me if I could cover for him.” She smiled as Casey kissed her lips softly.

“You and Novak. That is unexpected.” Fin grinned as he looked at both women.

“What can I say? I won the lottery.” Casey said as she kissed the side of y/n’s head.

Y/n smiled as she looked at Casey. “We both did.” She said softly as she kissed her cheek. “Alright. Anything I need to know?”

Olivia only stared at both Casey and y/n as they updated y/n with the case, giving her some information so she didn’t walk into the room in blank. She knew she had to focus on the case, and that y/n was here for the perp, but the fact that she was dating Casey pissed her more than she expected. She was sure that sooner or later, y/n would find someone who could fulfill y/n’s needs, that would love her and that would look out for her the way Olivia was not able to. But the fact that it was Casey Novak who made her happy, who was able to kiss her, hold her, go back home to her, it was pissing Olivia off. Y/n then walked into the interrogation room, and they all stood in Cragen’s office, looking through the window and focusing on their conversation.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had y/n here. It’s nice to have her back.” Elliot said as he smiled.

“My girlfriend is good at what she does.” Casey said softly as she grinned.

“Could you not talk? We’re trying to listen.” Olivia suddenly snapped, looking at Casey and then back at y/n and the perp.

Elliot frowned and looked at Casey who looked back at him, but right after they shook it off, focusing on the conversation. 20 minutes later, y/n had gotten more information than they had done in the last 2 hrs, Casey turned to Elliot and asked him to check his phone record and make sure to find anything at all, leaving Casey and Olivia alone in Cragen’s office. They both stayed quiet for a little longer, y/n looking at the window a while after to let them know that she was about to finish with him.

“She only needed 20 minutes to get him to talk. Isn’t she amazing?” Casey said proudly as she looked at Olivia, a smile on her face.

“Yes, Casey. We know how she works. We have no doubt that she’s good. Or she didn’t tell you that she used to work with us?” Olivia snapped as she turned closed the blinds and turned to leave the office.

“Do you have a problem, Olivia?” Casey frowned as she walked to Olivia.

Olivia turned to look at Casey. “No. I have no problem.”

“You just…completely changed in an instant. Is there anything bothering you or-“

“Look, Casey, we’re really not friends for me to tell you about my problems or go to you to talk. So, don’t pretend like you want to know if I’m okay or not.” Olivia scoffed as she shook her head, turning to walk away.

Casey scoffed as she shook her head. “Oh, now we’re not friends? What happened to that night weeks ago when we were having a drink and talking?”

Olivia shrugged. “We’re colleagues, colleagues do that.”

Casey nodded as she looked away. “Got it.” She offered a smile. “I’m sorry that I thought we were friends.” She passed Olivia and opened the door to walk out of the office.

Olivia sighed heavily as she looked up and found y/n going to Casey, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and smiling at something Casey told her. If she thought she had a chance to get y/n back, now it was long gone. She had found happiness, she had found her person…and Olivia…well…she was wishing she was in Casey’s place.

********************

Olivia knocked on Casey’s door and leaned against the door frame. Casey looked up from her notepad and offered a small smile. “Can I come in?” She showed Casey the bag of food she had in her hands and smiled a little. “I brought Chinese.”

Casey huffed a chuckle and nodded. “C’mon in.”

“I thought you might want a little help in the Duvall case.” Olivia smiled as she sat down and placed the bag in a place where it wouldn’t mess with Casey’s paperwork.

Casey nodded. “Yeah, just going through notes.” She sighed. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here, right?”

Olivia shook her head as she smiled. “I’m sorry about what happened a few weeks ago. I never got to say I was sorry.”

Casey nodded. “I figured you were just going through something, and I made you snap.”

Olivia shrugged. “Maybe, I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

“Well, you brought me dinner, so you’re forgiven.” Casey smiled.

“Y/n is not coming?” Olivia asked as she grabbed the bag and looked inside to get the boxes of food.

“Uh, no. She was invited to present a class in Columbia, so I told her I’d meet her at home.” Casey smiled.

“Good.” Olivia looked up at Casey and smiled. “You really are lucky, Case.”

Casey frowned slightly and then smiled. “I know.”

Olivia knew it was not her place to talk about the relationship she had with y/n, not if y/n had not told Casey anything about it. As much as she wanted to tell Casey that y/n had been the person she was talking about back in the bar, she knew that if she mentioned it, it might cause problems between Casey and y/n, and the last thing she wanted, was to have Casey coming after her or y/n getting hurt, so she decided that the best option was to continue as if nothing had happened, and be in good terms with Casey, after all, they were working together.

After an hour or so going over Casey’s notes and the files, Olivia decided to go get some coffee, seeing the hour and realizing that they would definitely spend more time in Casey’s office than they wanted to. She knew that because of the hour, she’d have to walk for a bit to find an open coffee shop, taking her around 30 minutes to get the coffee and go back to Casey’s office. Once she was back, she frowned as she noticed the lights in Casey’s office were now off, for a moment believing that Casey had gone home.

“Casey, I had to go three blocks to find the open coffee shop, if you went home, I’m gonna kill you.” Olivia huffed a chuckle as she opened the door but then she noticed it was completely dark and quiet, frowning again as she reached for the switch of the light and turning it on, finding Casey passed out on the floor. “Casey…” She whispered softly as she dropped the coffee and knelt on the floor to check Casey’s pulse. She got her phone out and dialed 911 asking for a bus and to be quick cause Casey was not responding. She put her phone back in her coat and tried to check if Casey was bleeding from anywhere else, panic suddenly taking over.

After the ambulance and the police arrived, she told Elliot that she’d ride with Casey and to call y/n if he had the chance. The whole ride to the hospital, Olivia kept staring at Casey and hoped that she’d wake up, but she kept hearing that she was not responding but there was a pulse. She held Casey’s hand the whole ride, mumbling a prayer, or anything at all for Casey to wake up and to be alright, she felt guilty for leaving her there and taking so long to find the coffee shop. Once in the hospital, they got Casey right into surgery and they asked Olivia to wait in the waiting room. She kept pacing around as she waited, her mind filled with thoughts as she tried to remember if she saw someone or anyone that could’ve hurt Casey, and then it hit her that they had sent flowers, and for a moment they had joked that maybe y/n had sent them, which in all honesty, it made Olivia feel a little jealous, but she didn’t say anything. So, if it hadn’t been from y/n, someone else went to Casey’s office and attacked her. As was lost in thought and pacing around the room, she didn’t notice y/n walking into the waiting room, calling for Olivia until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to find y/n right in front of her.

“Y/n…” Olivia breathed out.

“Where’s Casey?” Y/n asked almost out of breath.

Olivia took a deep breath as she tried to focus back on the present. “She’s…she’s in surgery. She has a concussion and I think…broken ribs. I don’t…I don’t really know.”

“What happened?” Y/n’s voice trembled as she looked at Olivia, her eyes filling with tears.

“We were…we were going over the case, and we were just talking about it and going over the options, and I offered to go for coffee. I left for…for 30 minutes. And I came back, and she was passed out on the floor. I don’t know-“

“Is there a suspect? Is there someone that wanted to hurt Casey?”

Olivia looked at y/n and shook her head. “I don’t know, y/n.”

Y/n sobbed as she turned away from Olivia, her hands going through Casey’s hair. “I should’ve gone to her office instead of home.”

Olivia sighed as she tried to place her hand on y/n’s shoulder. “Y/n, we didn’t know this would happen-“

“You left her alone.” Y/n turned again to look at Olivia, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Why did you leave her alone?”

Olivia was taken aback by the question, looking at y/n with disbelief. “Y/n…I didn’t know this was gonna happen.”

“Are you sure?” Y/n snapped.

Olivia scoffed. “What? You think that because I found out you’re dating Casey, that I decided to, what, let a perp or a random person go to Casey’s office to attack her? Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“Oh, please. Casey told me the way you acted the day I went to the precinct. You were rude when she doesn’t even have any idea about you.”

“I called you. A million times. I regretted so much to let you go so easily. And you never answered!”

“I moved on, so what, Olivia? It’s been almost two years. You thought I’d sit around and wait until you were okay with coming out and telling people that you had something with me? You had no right to treat Casey like that, she did nothing to you. If you wanna take it out on someone, it should be me. Not Casey.” Y/n started to raise her voice as she stared at Olivia.

“I should be the one making you happy and holding your hand! I should be the one loving you, not Casey!”

“You had your chance! I gave you a chance and you took it for granted! I moved on, and I met Casey, and you know what?! Casey is the best thing that has happened to me! I love her like I have never loved anyone! And if I lose her, this will be on you, Olivia!”

“That’s enough!”

Olivia and y/n turned to look at Elliot standing just a few feet away from them. Suddenly they both remembered they were in the waiting room of the hospital and a few people that were there were now staring at them. Y/n swallowed hard as she looked down at the floor, trying to calm down as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Elliot then walked to them and placed a hand on y/n’s shoulder.

“I’ll go ask for Casey, to see if she’s out of surgery.” Y/n whispered softly, walking out of the waiting room.

Elliot stared at Olivia and placed his hand on her shoulder. “What was that about?”

Olivia looked at Elliot with tears in her eyes. “I blew it. I lost y/n a long time ago, and now it’s too late.”

Elliot sighed as he nodded. “You two were dating back when she was helping us, huh?” Olivia nodded. “Why you never told me?”

“I was not sure of who I was or what I wanted, I was confused. I’m not twenty anymore. I was just-“ Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know.” She sniffled as she shook her head. “And I blew it. And now she’s happy with Casey, and I’m still here wishing that it was me.”

“Liv…you need to let her go. She was out of line, what happened to Casey had nothing to do with you, it’s not your fault. But you need to let her go.”

Olivia stared at Elliot as she tilted her head, more tears rolling down her cheeks. “I know.” She whispered softly.

********************

Casey opened her eyes slowly, turning her head as she noticed y/n leaning over her arm fast asleep. She smiled softly and slowly moved her other hand to run her fingers through y/n’s hair. Y/n took a deep breath as she opened her eyes and looked up to find Casey staring at her. “Hi sleepyhead.” Casey whispered softly.

Y/n’s face softened as she smiled. “Welcome back, baby.”

Casey smiled. “I fell asleep as soon as I talked to Olivia.”

Y/n nodded softly. “You did. But that’s okay…you need all the possible rest.” She smiled softly as she got up and leaned down to kiss Casey’s forehead softly. “Do you want some water?”

Casey shook her head slowly. “I’m good.” She sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

Y/n sat in bed and brought Casey’s hand to her lips, kissing the back of it softly. “Anything.”

“It was Olivia, wasn’t it? Your heartbreak.” Casey said softly, almost in a whisper as she looked at y/n.

Y/n sighed as she looked at Casey’s hand and then up at her again, nodding softly. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/n shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important. Olivia and I…we broke up and after that, we tried to continue working together but it wasn’t easy. And I stopped talking to her and going to the precinct. We lost contact until that day when I went to the precinct again.” She bit her lip softly. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you, Case. If I would’ve known that Olivia was going to act that way-“

“You have history with her. I don’t blame her. I can’t say that I wouldn’t react the way she did.” Casey grinned.

Y/n huffed a chuckle as she shook her head. “Still, she had no right to treat you like that, Casey.”

Casey shrugged. “I can handle it.” She smiled. “So…are you really over her?”

Y/n tilted her head. “You really asking me that?” She smiled. “Case, I’ve been over her since the moment I met you. Even before that. Yes, what I had with Olivia…it was something. She was the first woman I was with, but things didn’t work with her. And I have you, Casey. And no, you’re not a rebound or replacement or anything. I love you, Casey. And I’d do anything not to lose you. I can’t imagine my life without you.” She felt her eyes getting teary as she spoke, afraid that Casey would tell her that they had to break up.

Casey sighed softly as she pulled y/n closer, signaling her to lean down. “I’m not going anywhere, my love. I love you too much to let you go. But…I just needed to know.” She smiled once y/n was resting her forehead against Casey’s carefully. “You cannot get rid of me.”

Y/n chuckled softly. “I better not. I mean it, Casey.”

Casey nodded. “And I mean it too. I love you, and I’d do anything for you. I cannot imagine my life without you either.” She grinned. “We’re too cheesy.”

Y/n laughed softly. “We’re disgusting.” She smiled as she kissed Casey’s lips softly. “Please, never leave me.”

“Not planning to.” Casey smiled as she kissed her lips again.

********************

Y/n took a deep breath as she walked to Olivia’s desk, thankful that the rest of the squad was gone. She cleared her throat softly, making Olivia look up at her. “Hi.”

Olivia sighed. “Hi.”

“I uh…I wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry if I didn’t call before.”

Olivia shook her head. “It’s okay. You want to go somewhere else?”

Y/n shook her head. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was stressed and worried about Casey.” She sighed. “I really didn’t mean to tell you all those things.”

“But you were right.” Olivia stood up and leaned over her desk. “I shouldn’t have snapped at Casey. I shouldn’t have told you all those things. You had every right to move on.”

Y/n nodded. “You meant so much to me, Olivia. You really did. And you always will.”

Olivia smiled. “But you found your person.”

Y/n smiled. “I did.” She whispered softly.

“I can see that now. And I am so sorry. I’m happy that you’re happy. I truly am. And I hope we can move on from this and…maybe start over.” Olivia smiled as she extended her hand.

Y/n nodded as she held Olivia’s hand. “I’d like that.” She smiled.

Olivia let go of her hand and smiled. “Good. I’m really happy for you, y/n. And I am sorry about what happened to Casey.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault.” Y/n smiled. “I know you’ll find the right person, Liv. Just…live your life as you want it. Don’t overthink it too much.”

“I will.” Olivia smiled. “Take care.”

Y/n smiled. “You too.” She squeezed Olivia’s shoulder before she walked away.

Y/n knew that what she had with Olivia had been special, she had helped her figure out that after all, she had been living in denial her whole life and she had been hiding her true self. Sadly, what she had hoped to have with Olivia, had not worked out the way she wanted, and she believed that somehow, it could’ve been fate telling her that Olivia was not the right person. As cheesy as she thought it was, she knew deep inside that Casey was her person, and the one that she wanted to spend her whole life with. Olivia would always hold a place in her heart, but Casey was her person, and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

#casey novak x reader #casey novak #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson #svu fic #svu #law and order svu

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 days

Note

BESTIE. I was just casually thinking about your whole dybmn series and now I’m wondering, as both reader and Spencer become more confident with their spicy dynamics, what kind of lover would Spencer become with her? New k!nks, maybe?, I JUST genuinely think that Spencer is so whipped for her that he would definitely use toys and anything else, not only to experiment but to get to know and find out about all of her secret facets.

I believe she would be his “creation” like he would be so proud to see her development in her confidence in spicy times like smirking all over as she does anything to please him and he’d be like “yeah, I created that” because I’M BITING MY PILLOW RIGHT NOW and gonna dig up a hole after this to hide myself because my thoughts are so hideous. Girlie, what did you do to me? I wasn’t like this. 😩

oh let’s discuss

18+ long ass rambling and things i think about A Lot ……..

in my opinion (which is not the end all be all everyone can perceive them however they’d like) reader and spencer definitely bring out more sexually adventurous sides of each other like they just have a shit ton of chemistry and for a while ithink spencer would just be easing reader into sexuality so nothing that crazy would happen aside from the power dynamics we see pretty much from the start. i think those would definitely get stronger and occasionally more variable. im not usually into sub!spence but i think there would be times he would definitely allow reader to have more control (i don’t ever think he’d be like calling them mommy lmfao) but aside from that i could also see him veering VERY rarely in a slightly harder!dom direction. like he’ll never hurt or seriously degrade you but in p3 reader says something about liking it when he acts like they belong to him and he was really into that. as the relationship progresses i think he would almost start taking more ownership of r’s body in a way, like obviously nothing is ever nonconsensual but he just knows you so well that it’s like… well he knows you better than you know yourself sooo you let him call the shots, but at his core i think spencer is forever oriented to please. he just wants to make you feel good, that’s always gonna be his goal, so he’s always going to listen and even if the power dynamic is weighed in his favor you are actually always the one in control bc he’d do anything for u lol

in terms of kinks…. idk, i never really see spencer as a super kinky guy? like he just knows too much about paraphilia and obviously sexual violence ties into a lot of his job so i sincerely doubt he’d find giving or receiving pain arousing beyond like slapping your ass or you scratching his back or whatever. love is always at the heart of sex for him and that’s going to be the most important part, he’ll never be able to see you just as a body. he’ll always see you as the person he’s in love with and there are things he’s simply not willing to do to the person he loves.

because of his trauma he’s super duper hesitant about bondage BUT i think he wouldn’t be completely opposed to very light restraints on you or him, he’d just have to be in a specific mood. i also never see him as being someone who’s super into toys because he’s such a luddite, he can barely stand having an email i doubt he’s going to have an extensive collection of sex toys. but he would so use your vibrator on you or make you use it on yourself in front of him again if he’s in a very specific mood

oh but YES he DELIGHTS in having defiled and corrupted you. idc idc im not accepting criticism on this. like he spoils you so much that you’re used to getting him whenever you want and so you’re not very subtle about it. if you get all needy in public and start draping yourself all over him and giving him looks and pulling on his sleeve because you want to go home he’ll fuck you in rossi’s bathroom because he wants to encourage your lewd behavior.

obviously he has boundaries tho and he has respect for you and the people around him like he won’t do anything that draws attention and he’ll only ever do things he knows he can get away with without anyone else noticing

later seasons spence also LOVES when you leave marks on him he thinks it’s cute how you mark your territory and he’s not at all embarrassed if there is a hickey above his collar at work. in his mind it’s like. why would he care about other peoples opinions on his sex life when they have nothing to do with it god i think about this all the time

anyway im sorry if this was disappointing😭 idkidk, thank you for asking about my thoughts tho bc i am always down for headcanons

#ramblings #asks

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sequinsmile-x · 2 months

Text

Buckle

It had been a long few days, and overhearing Strauss reprimand Aaron tips Emily over the edge.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is based on a prompt that the lovely @hancydrewfan sent me. She asked for a fic where Emily yells at Strauss and I simply couldn't resist.

Hope you like this bestie <3

-x-

Words: 3.k

Warnings: minor injury/broken bone

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The moment Emily sees Jess’s number flash up on her phone she knows something is wrong.

It was an agreement they’d had ever since Emily had gone back to work after having Hazel three years ago. Jessica looked after both Hazel and Jack when Aaron and Emily were away on cases, and she’d call every night just before the little girl went to bed so they could say goodnight. She never called during the day unless something had happened, and even then it was usually a text - like when Jack was recently sent home from school after he picked up the flu that eventually took down the entire family

Her heart drops into her stomach and she swallows thickly, pushing down the wave of anxious nausea that threatens to overwhelm her. The sound of the precinct she’s standing in, the team’s voices as they deliver the profile they’d worked on for days, disappears, and all she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat, loud and pounding in her head.

She looks up at the rest of the team, and briefly makes eye contact with her husband as she nods behind her and she holds up her phone, indicating that she’s stepping away. She walks quickly to an empty hallway, making sure she answers before the call rings out.

“Jess, hi, is everything okay?” She says, speaking so quickly that her words trip over each other. She had always prided herself on being able to control her emotions, the skills she’d learnt when she was also learning to talk, but any time her children were involved in something she felt torn open. Like a walking raw nerve that was an easy target, everything she’d spent years knowing how to suppress and push down suddenly on display for everyone to see.

“Hi Emily,” Jess replies, sounding stressed. Emily can hear Hazel crying in the background, her words broken up as she begs to see her mommy, and Emily is sure she can feel her heart breaking in her chest.

“Is that Hazel? What’s wrong?” She asks, hearing the desperation in her own voice, her jaw tight as she clenches her teeth to stop herself from crying.

“I’m so sorry, she fell off the jungle gym in the park and she’s hurt her arm,” Jess says, her voice slightly shaky, “I’ve brought her to the hospital and they think it’s broken so they are about to do an x-ray.”

Emily nods even though Jess can’t see her, and she wipes away the stray tear that escaped her lashline, “Okay, I’ll get on the next flight out of here. Thankfully it isn’t far. I’ll let you know when I should get there.”

“I’ll keep you up to date on what the doctors say. I swear I was watching her, it just happened so fast-”

“Jess, it’s okay,” Emily says, “It’s not your fault these things happen,” she blows out a shaky breath, “Can I talk to her?”

“Of course,” Jess replies. There’s a moment of just background noise as Jess moves the phone, her words quieter as she talks to Hazel, “Want to talk to Mommy?”

It’s quiet for a second and then Emily hears her little girl's voice, “Mama?”

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, injecting more enthusiasm than she feels into her voice, not wanting her to know how upset she was, “How are you feeling?”

Her answer is a hiccup, “My arm hurts.”

She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying, “I know it does baby, I’m going to come home to see you so I’ll kiss it all better when I get there.”

“You coming home?”

She wipes away another tear at the hope in her daughter’s voice and nods, “Yes, I’m coming home. So you listen to Aunt Jess and the doctor’s until I get there.”

“Yes Mama,” Hazel sniffs, “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Pass the phone back to Aunt Jess, okay?”

“Okay.”

She reiterates her plans with Jess, confirming she’d let her know when she had a flight sorted and she hangs up. She starts to walk back towards the main bullpen, her phone still in her hand as she already looks up flights, and she walks straight into her husband.

Aaron frowns at her, his hands on her shoulders as he holds her in place, “Em, you okay? You’ve been gone a little while”

“Jess called,” she says, swallowing thickly as he immediately tenses, “Hazel fell off the jungle gym, they think her arm is broken.”

He tightens his grip on her shoulders, his stomach churning with guilt and sadness that his little girl was hurt and he was hundreds of miles away. He knows his wife well enough to understand that she is barely holding it together. Her jaw was tight, as were her shoulders, and her dark eyes were shining at him, tears she wouldn’t shed until much later when they saw their daughter gathering in her eyes.

“I’ll get Derek to take point here so we can go home,” he says, immediately slipping into practical mode, he looks down at her phone clasped in her hand and sees the available flights, “Is there one soon?”

She nods and clears her throat, “Yeah, there’s one in about 90 minutes. I figured that would give me enough time to get to the hotel and then to the airport.”

“Perfect, book it and I’ll go talk to the team.”

He turns to leave and she grabs his arm, her brain finally kicking in, “We’re still in the middle of a case, Aaron. Should we both leave? She’ll be okay once she’s got a cast-”

“If you think I’m staying here when our little girl is in the hospital I’m going to ask them to check on you too when we get there,” he says, his voice serious as he smiles at her softly, the small half-smile that showed off one of his dimples that he reserved just for her, “We’re both going,” he squeezes her hand, “Nothing is more important to me than you and the kids, the team can handle the case.”

There were times when it made her sad they hadn’t been together longer, that she’d lost out on so much time with him. It was hard being his second wife, hard knowing that he’d loved someone before, that he still loved Haley and always would, and sometimes she wished it was simpler. That they’d made something of that summer decades ago now that neither of them ever spoke about until they got together, but then Jack wouldn’t exist, and she couldn’t imagine her life without the boy she loved as if he was her own.

But then there were moments like this when she was grateful everything had worked out as it had. Where he’d learnt from the mistakes of his past, the things he wished he could undo in his relationship with Haley, things he still carried the regret for to this day. Emily had never for a second doubted that she and the kids were the centre of Aaron’s world, more important than the job that had almost cost him everything.

“Okay,” she says, more relieved than she’ll admit, grateful she’ll have him with her during the flight home, “I’ll book the flights.”

He smiles and leans in to stamp a kiss against her cheek, a show of affection they’d never usually exchange at work, and he squeezes her hand once more before he pulls away, “I’ll speak to Derek. We’ll leave in ten minutes, okay?”

She nods, her focus already back on her phone looking at flights, the extortionate cost not registering. She’d buy a damn plane if it meant getting home to her little girl.

“Ten minutes.”

___

It’s a rough few days.

She felt on edge, the guilt bubbling in her stomach only getting worse every time she looked at her daughter and saw the bright pink cast she had on her forearm. It made Emily ache every time she looked at it, every time Hazel accidentally knocked it against something, her fearless energy already back after she’d been cautious for a few days.

Emily yawns as she pours herself a coffee and she smiles as JJ walks over and she passes her the coffee pot.

“How is Hazel?” JJ asks sympathetically

“She’s doing better than I am I think,” she says, exchanging a small smile with her friend, “She is sleeping in our bed though. I can barely say no to her at the best of times, let alone right now.”

JJ chuckles, “And you say Hotch is the pushover.”

Emily laughs, “We both are. That little girl has the whole family wrapped around her little finger,” she says, smiling softly, “Especially Jack. He made an arm cast for her teddy bear.”

“That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.”

Emily’s smile fades as she looks past her friend and sees Strauss walking into Aaron’s office, a determination in her step that rarely meant anything good for the BAU.

She groans, “What do you think she wants?” She asks as she looks at her friend, her frown only deepening as she watches JJ scrunch up her nose, a tell she had that lets Emily know she wasn’t telling her something, “What is it?”

JJ winces, “Derek got a call from Strauss when we were still there, asking why she’d been told he’d been assigned head of the case,” she says, carefully choosing her words, “When he told her that you had both flown home she was…not impressed.”

Emily clenches her teeth, her grip on her coffee cup tightening so much she’s surprised she doesn’t break it as she looks back at Aaron’s office. She can see them through the window. Aaron is standing but still behind his desk, and Strauss is on the other side, her hands on her hips as she talks, the tension in the room palpable even from this distance.

All the effort that Emily had spent days putting into holding herself together disappears, all of her sadness and guilt turning into fury, burning her from the inside out. She looks at JJ and smiles tightly before placing her coffee cup down.

“Excuse me,” she says before she walks away, a determination in her step. She clenches her fists at her sides, digging her nails into her palms in an attempt to feel anything other than the anger rolling in her gut. She ignores Spencer and Derek as she walks past them, the latter’s comment that she seemed annoyed barely registering as she walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. When she’s close enough, she can hear what Strauss is saying, and she pauses outside the door to listen in.

“You left your team at a critical point of a case, this is unacceptable Agent Hotchner and you know it.”

“With all due respect, Ma’am, my daughter was in hospital-”

“With a broken arm, something you knew before you left. I might have been able to understand if she’d been more seriously-”

It’s all Emily can bear to listen to, and before she can stop herself she’s opening the door, cutting off the Section Chief before she can say anything else, “If she’d been more seriously what?”

Aaron steps out from behind the desk, his own irritation at how he was being spoken to, the dressing down he didn’t have the energy for, disappearing the moment he sees how angry his wife is. She’d been on edge for days, and he had anticipated that she’d cry, guilt for not being there for Hazel when she was hurt finally winning out. He hadn’t seen this coming. And he just hoped they’d both still have a job when they walked away from it.

“Emily,” he says diplomatically, “Maybe-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off, ignoring the fact he was not just her husband here but her boss too. She looks back at Strauss, “I want to hear her say it. What would have been an acceptable way for my three-year-old to have been hurt for you to understand why her father needed to be there too?” She asks, staring the other women down, “A head injury? Car accident? Coma?”

Aaron steps closer to her again, the mere idea of either of their kids being hurt that way making his stomach churn, “Em-”

“I want to hear her say it,” she repeats, still not looking at her husband, her eyes burning into Strauss’s so intensely she’s surprised the other woman hasn’t burst into flames, “What would have been acceptable?”

Strauss clears her throat, finally finding her voice as she straightens her back, “Agent Prentiss, I think you’d do well to remember I am your superior.”

Emily chuckles dryly, “I think you’d do well to remember you’re a parent too,” she says bitterly, “Our daughter was hurt, she still is. We had a duty as parents to-”

“You had a duty to your job-”

“Our children will always come first,” she shouts, not caring that by now everyone in the bullpen was watching them, “And if you can’t understand that I feel bad for your children.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it, but she doesn’t try and stop herself. She’d spent so much of her life promising herself that she’d never be like her own mother, and she knew it had made her extra defensive. She wanted her children to know they were loved, that nothing came ahead of them, and the fact Strauss was attempting to make her and Aaron doubt that and their parenting choices was only adding fuel to the fire.

Strauss swallows thickly, her jaw tight as she turns to look at Aaron, “It’s just a warning this time. But if you pull this again without talking to me first there will be consequences,” she turns to look at Emily, “Agent Prentiss, you on the other hand are suspended for one week without pay for insubordination.”

Emily scoffs and presses her lips together, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. She looks at the other woman for a moment and considers her options, clearing her throat before she steps closer.

“You’ve tried to fire us both before, now we’re apparently essential to the team,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “Maybe you should make up your mind.”

Strauss raises an eyebrow at her, “Two weeks. No pay,” she looks between them and heads towards the door, “I think I’d better leave before you make it three.”

Strauss walks out of the room and leaves them standing there in silence, the small gap between them from where Aaron had been slowly edging towards them feeling briefly much larger than the few feet it was. Emily clears her throat and looks at her husband before she looks down at the floor, suddenly worried he’d be mad at her for jumping in to defend him and ultimately making things worse for herself.

“I’ll meet you in the car,” she says, turning and leaving the room before he can say anything.

She has to suppress a smile as she walks past the team, Penelope’s whispered enthusiasm following her out of the bullpen.

“Okay, that was the coolest thing I have ever seen.”

___

He smiles as he walked into the living room to find Emily and Hazel snuggled on the couch. The little girl is fast asleep, her face pressed into her mother’s neck and her broken arm resting on a cushion Emily had gently placed under it.

“Want me to take her up?” He asks, careful to stay quiet and he smiles as she shakes her head, already aware that was going to be her answer.

“No, she’s okay here for a while,” Emily replies as he sits down next to them, “Is Jack okay?”

Aaron nods as he wraps his arms around them, careful not to knock Hazel’s arm, “Yes all of his math homework is done and now he’s playing his video game,” he says, kissing Emily’s temple, “Next time you’re helping him though.”

She chuckles wryly, “I told you a long time ago honey, I will help with anything except math. I barely enjoyed it when I was at school.”

“I’ve seen pictures of you when you were at school, sweetheart. I think the only thing you enjoyed was Siouxsie and the Banshees.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “One day I’m going to kill Penelope Garcia for showing you those photos.”

He kisses her, smiling into it before he pulls away, and he cups her cheek, “Can I ask you something?”

She nods, turning her head to kiss his palm before he lets his hand fall gently to her lap “Of course.”

“Were you…purposely making it worse with Strauss earlier?” He asks, raising his eyebrow at her when her eyes go wide before she looks away, her focus suddenly on Hazel’s sleeping face, “Because you were already suspended. And I saw the look on your face before you carried on, you were practically goading her into making it more than a week.”

She scrunches her nose up and groans, her cheeks warm with embarrassment as she continues to purposely avoid his gaze, “I…I may have thought that if I was going to be suspended it might as well be worth it,” she says, clearing her throat, “And this way, I’ll be home with her and Jack for a couple of weeks,” she adds, kissing Hazel’s forehead.

He smiles, his gut feeling that she’d taken the opportunity to spend more time with their children correct. He cups her chin and makes her look at him his smile soft as their eyes meet, “You’re an excellent mom, sweetheart.”

She smiles, her breath catching in her chest at the compliment. She’d needed to hear it more than she realised, needed the reassurance that not being here when Hazel had hurt herself didn’t take away from how good a mother she was.

“Thank you,” she says softly. She leans in to kiss his cheek, hoping he understands everything she hasn’t said. When she pulls back his smile is the only confirmation she needs.

“It’s true,” he says, squeezing her hand as he reaches for it, “Even if does make you a pain in the ass as an employee.”

“Aaron.”

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @ptrckjcne @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florencremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

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#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotchniss

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jakeyt · 4 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; jealousy; negative self-talk; talks of miscarriage and hysterical pregnancy; allusions to childhood abuse; talks of pregnancy; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; therapy; talks of grieving a baby; pregnancy hormones (just the beginning lol); reader checking Jake out and being sad while she does it (lmao) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 22.1k+

a/n: sorry it took a month, besties... hopefully this angsty fucking chapter makes up for it lmao <3

and don't worry, i won't be gone long ;)

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 30, 2022

Birds were chirping. The melodies of an acoustic guitar playing lullabies made your heart warm in your chest. A baby’s cries were being mellowed by the sound of the guitar. A smile, reaching the baby’s face that matched the one on the man playing the strings.

But you couldn’t look at him. Only the bundle of pure, unadulterated, untouched love in your arms; her eyes, looking the same as his, caught yours, the color of caramel coffee. . . twinkling just like his. . .

All pink and white and golden rays of sunshine.

Then, it was gone.

No. Not again.

There was no more peace. No more lullabies. No more love from parent to child. . .

All dark and dirty and ear-piercing screams.

A sister, trying to cover your eyes from what was happening, just inches in front of you.

Then there were hands. Hands gripping at your arms, the sister screeching, yelling and clawing for you as she got ripped away. As you got picked up so harshly your head hit something hard, making you dizzy. . .

When you closed your eyes from the dizziness, you opened them afterwards to see that your sister was back. But she was older this time.

Elsie. She was stunningly beautiful, as you knew she would grow up to be. Put together in an outfit that resembled that of Rachel Green. Her hair, flowing in strawberry blonde, soft waves around her delicate features and her blue eyes were wide open and wondering. Searching your eyes for something hidden in them. . .

What was she wanting? You couldn’t tell . . . Just as you were about to speak to ask her, she was in front of you, nudging you, not nearly as abrasively as the hands from before.

You studied her quizzically – why was she–?

“Wake up!”

And the next time you blinked, your eyes were opened wide.

To reality. To Elsie, shaking your arm in the present. You were an adult, she was an adult. Things were okay.

Life was safe again.

Shit. I’m so tired of that fucking dream, you thought angrily, sitting up and letting the covers fall away from your sweaty, tensed body.

Blinking furiously, you let yourself cling to the softness— the safety of your bed. The bed hugged you, cocooned you in the fluffy down comforter. You were in your clean, quiet apartment. . . the rays peeking through your bedroom windows the same as they’d been at the beginning of your dream.

“Sis,” Elsie said your name, out of all of her patience. “Come the fuck on. I’m hungry and I need coffee so bad. You know me. You know I’m about to lose all ability in my limbs if I don’t have caffeine stat–I need it. To survive,” she clutched her chest dramatically. “Please. Get your lazy ass up.”

You rolled your eyes with a giant huff, throwing your covers off of you to try and hit her with them. When you heard her gasp and slap at the covers, you figured you succeeded.

“Y/n!” She said, backing up from the bed. When you saw her next, her hair was sticking up on all sides from static. Success. But she was laughing, finding it funny nonetheless. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said, sitting up to stretch a little. You had to fight the urge to put a hand to your tummy. Not in front of Elsie. “Now leave, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before,” she argued. “Nothing I haven’t seen already.”

There sure as hell is something you haven’t seen on me already. . . Albeit a little small, but rounder nonetheless.

“Well I don’t want you to look at my naked body this morning, so get the fuck out.”

You were getting irritated. Just wanted to change in peace. Wanted to hold your belly to start the day. It was routine at this point.

She growled, opening your door. “You have five minutes, or I’m leaving your ass.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you pulled up to Waffle House, scream-singing Ariana Grande lyrics with Elsie at the top of your lungs, you were sincerely hoping that your stomach wouldn’t roll at the smell of the greasy breakfast food.

The nostalgia of the morning was something you wanted to wrap up tight and not let flutter away in the crisp and cool October breeze.

Please, sweet baby, you pleaded. Love Waffle House with me. Don’t make me give this up.

You wanted this with Els. This particular establishment had been cathartic to you and your sister for several years. Talks that far surpassed therapy sessions occurred here, in the back booth, almost completely surrounded by windows. . . The thought of sitting in that back booth was enough to make you cry right on the spot.

And the All Star Special sounded so fucking delicious. Good sign that it at least still sounded good, right?

You just wanted scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns with ketchup, and a gigantic waffle with the restaurant name pressed in the middle. It was all you wanted at that moment. Truly. Nothing more, nothing less. . . Your mouth was watering.

Cheesy and strange as it was, you were quite literally crossing your fingers that the food wouldn’t make you projectile vomit as Elsie opened the door for you two.

Please don’t make me sick, please don’t make me sick. . .

To your extreme relief, your tummy didn’t knot and squeeze. No bile came to the base of your throat. . . In fact, the vanilla waffle mixture, the sizzling, salty smell of the bacon and ham. . . it was better than before. Your heightened senses welcomed the scrumptious, sentimental scents that came with the establishment.

And the back booth was open!

Tears literally pricked your eyes at the sight. And you must’ve sniffled because Elsie spun around, where you waited to be seated, and checked on you with worried eyes.

“You okay?” She pondered, her tone light with a joke, but eyes still serious.

Not able to fully collect yourself thanks to the fantastic hormonal effects of your pregnancy, you felt a tear hit your cheek when you sniffled once more.

“Yeah,” goddamn, even your voice sounded fucking wet with emotion. “Just happy to be here with you.”

Tell her, y/n. Let her help you. . .Tell her.

Fuck that came out of nowhere.

The soft, reassuring voice being the one to guide you would take a lot of getting used to if it was going to continue as the one to help you, rather than the harsh, critical one that’d taunted you since you were a child.

Honestly, when the calm voice came to you, your mind settled in the waves of reassurance. This was the voice you longed to hear anytime the dark one wanted to boss you around. . .wanted to push you down when you were up.

It always spoke soft truths to you. This voice didn’t make you feel like utter shit; this was the one that sounded more like Elsie than you’d like to admit.

As you started walking to your beloved booth, you were trying to find a solid reason to not tell Elsie right now. . . You had to tell someone. Right? And it was killing you to be around her and keep her in the dark. She was safe. And, at that moment, the only person you really wanted to tell was your big sister. No matter how bossy she may get, it was worth it to have her know. She was your one and only safety net for years for good reason.

And she was going to be leaving again tonight until Thanksgiving. There was no way you could wait to tell her until then.

She’d also never forgive you if you kept it from her for too long. You couldn’t blame her. If roles were reversed, you’d kill her if she waited to tell you until she had a noticeably round belly. . .

You sat down at your booth. You, at the seat with your back to the big windows, her smile wide as she made small talk with the worn-out waitress. Elsie’s smile, though, was big enough it brought a smile to the tired woman’s face. Elsie got along with everybody, and the waitress was no different.

God, she was sunshine for you.

As the woman placed your menus down in front of you two, you immediately flipped it to the side with the All Star Special. You watched her kind face, aged from years of hard work, and found comfort in the thickness of her voice from even more years of smoke, as she asked for your drink orders.

Elsie ordered her blessed coffee and you sat there, contemplating. . . stuck. Normally, you’d order a Mr. Pibb. . .but was that healthy for the baby?

Your sister stared at you, her brows wrinkled as she gave you a questioning smile.

“Just get her a Mr. Pi–,” Elsie started.

“I’ll take an orange juice,” you finished.

The sweet waitress left to get your orders ready, and when you looked up from your menu to Elsie’s face again, she was looking at you like you’d grown three heads.

“Orange juice?!” She asked, as if you’d just insulted her on a great scale. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

You felt nervous under her stare and questions. You were going to tell her anyway. . . why were you feeling your skin prick with nerves?

“Just felt like getting an orange juice. . .,” you said, shrugging your shoulders to play it off. “No biggie.”

“I cannot remember one time we’ve come here– in the years we’ve come here– where you’ve gotten anything besides a Mr. Pibb.” She leaned across the table to put the back of her hand to your forehead. She then jokingly asked, “Are you well?”

You watched her laugh at her own joke, her eyes, smiling. The same ones you’d looked into when, for years, you’d told her your deepest secrets. . . A couple of things came to your mind. When you lost your virginity and felt like shit about it (for God knows what reason); she’d raised your spirits by telling you she’d felt the same at first, but it got better with time. Then there’d been when you’d smoked weed for the first time and you felt so horribly about it (again, why?); she told you it was not a bad thing to do and that you deserved to feel so free as the drug would make you feel.

Very rarely had she been extremely judgemental.

Right now, she was giving you yet another look of concern, though. . .So, you decided. It was time. Now or never.

“Sis, what’s–?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There it was. First time you’d said it out loud. Damn. In that moment, it felt even more real to you, too.

You were with child. There was a baby in you. There was life growing inside of your uterus.

Then the opposite train of thought rushed through you. . .were you pregnant? Was the baby still in there? You hadn’t really had time to obsessive-compulsively research any of that yet. Could your tummy still grow if you had a miscarriage? Was that possible? Was there a baby inside of you?

You had to shake your head from your sudden wave of unwelcome, anxious thoughts. There was no reason to believe you’d lost the baby. . . right? Surely. . . You wouldn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. Blinking a few times, you chanced a look at your sister again.

She gaped at you, staying that way until the waitress came back with your drinks, not saying a word. Didn’t even look away from you when the waitress spoke, asking for your orders. You had to tell the woman it would be a minute, while Elsie still zoned out on you.

Her eyes just bored into yours until you started feeling uncomfortable and irritable.

Talk, Elsie. Fuck.

You clasped your hands together under the table, over your tummy. . .had to do something with them. And after continuing to wait a couple more minutes, you decided if she wasn’t going to say anything, you would. “Can you say some–?”

“What the fuck?” She asked, voice much louder than it should be for a quiet Sunday morning at Waffle House.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the heads of patrons turn towards you. Inquiring eyes were not what you needed at the moment.

Your cheeks heated as you grit your teeth. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Elsie?” You fumed, automatically defensive for the life inside of you. “I had sex. I got pregnant. Simple as that.”

You’d never felt this sense of protection for anyone in your life. Not even your sister. No, at that moment, you were ready to go to bat for your baby against the woman who’d been your first line of defense your entire life.

Thankfully the next time she talked, she sounded more subdued and understanding.

“I– I didn’t mean for it to come off that way, babe,” she said, shaking her head, laying a hand against her forehead. Her eyes searched for yours to believe her. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right response.”

“It’s oka–.”

“This is a sensitive time for you–for any woman–my god,” she continued, not letting you make any excuse. “I was just in shock–still am, obviously–but I’m not upset,” she said, pausing. Then she narrowed her eyes, testing you. “How far along are you though?”

You giggled, remembering your earlier thoughts. The two of you were so alike. More like twins than anything, honestly. “I’m only like ten weeks, I think,” you smoothly said. “I found out two weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep it or not, and I didn’t want to tell anyone until I decided. It was my decision and I didn’t want anything or anyone to sway me.”

“That is all valid and correct,” she agreed, nodding her head. Then, she continued asking questions as she poured too much half and half in her coffee. “How do you feel about it? Good? Bad? Sad? Happy? Overjoyed? Utterly depressed?”

Your eyes bugged, and you waved your hands at her once she was drinking from her mug, watching you and waiting for a response. “Damn, slow down,” you began, entwining your hands again, on top of the table this time. “First of all, per usual, I don’t always know how I’m feeling. . . But–it’s strange,” you started, squinting out the window just next to her. “It’s like, this time, instead of bouncing back and forth between sad and mad and confused. . .I’m more bouncing between a variety of happy emotions for this life,” you untangled your hands to once again place them on your tummy, below the table. “The confusion is still there, but for this baby. . .the emotions are mostly positive ones full of hope and love,” you looked back at her. “It’s weird.”

She was squinting at you, nodding her head as she took everything in.

Then the waitress was back, taking your orders. And just as soon, she was gone.

Elsie spoke before you could. “What changed?”

Snorting, you gave her a look. “Really, Els?”

Yet again, she narrowed her eyes, but this time it was out of annoyance. “You know what I mean.”

You did. She wanted to get to the heart of it. Not the situation. But what had changed inside of you to instigate your new, surprising view of things? You really weren’t sure . . . To be completely honest, this new feeling had just started yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago, you’d made the decision that would change your life forever.

But, you answered the best you could in spite of it all.

“I don’t know,” you glanced down at your hands, holding your sweater-clad tummy. You hadn’t had to delve into oversized sweaters the past couple of weeks. Not quite yet. Your tummy wasn’t that round. “I just kind of started thinking on behalf of this life I made, and not really myself. I put him, her–whatever the fuck it is– first and doing that just gave me this new outlook. Like I didn’t have all of the time in the world to criticize myself anymore. Because I have someone else to look out for. Someone special–someone whose life I have to be careful with– a life I hold in my hands.”

She giggled. “Literally,” she motioned in the direction of your hand placement. You joined in on her little moment of humor, enjoying the feeling of normalcy with her. She knew, and things were still the same as always. You didn’t feel any weirdness emanating off of her. This moment was easing you and brought you a sense of undefinable calm. Something you’d needed so badly. She kept on, having more to say. “I’m so fucking glad you’re starting to feel lighter,” she stated, reaching a hand out towards you, palm up on the table. “You’ve always carried so much on your shoulders. Always. And it has sucked to watch helplessly. You have hurt for too damn long and you deserve more than anyone to feel this new happiness.”

The tear that suddenly gathered at the corner of your eye and trickled down your cheek was unstoppable.

You moved a hand to place in hers and you squeezed each other. “Thanks Els,” you wetly responded. And nothing more– just needed her to know you were thankful.

After a minute of just communicating with your eyes, your food was being brought in small increments. Her biscuits and gravy were placed at the same time as your plate of eggs, hash browns, and ham.

“Your waffle will be out shortly, honey,” the waitress smokily said, tone sweet as could be. “You two enjoy.”

After you’d both responded with a nod and she was gone, there was no stopping you two from digging in.

After swallowing her first bite of food with a moan, she looked at you, still chewing your hash browns, which now tasted more like the sugary, tomatoey ketchup you’d smothered them with.

“God, I was starving,” she said, taking a little sip of her half and half with a dash of coffee. She squeaked a little as she set her coffee down, a smirk on her glossed lips. “Josh would not quit last night.”

You made a gagging motion at the implication, your brow furrowed with disgust at her words.

Then, you took your first sip of orange juice.

Goddamn.

Fuck! Ew. Baby does not like orange juice.

Coughing a little, your throat felt ready to reject the liquid right as it hit your uvula. Gross as it was, you put as much as you could back into the glass, not caring for Elsie’s reaction.

“That’s not nasty at all,” she sarcastically noted, still chewing her food.

You kept coughing into your hand, swallowing as much as you could, focusing on getting it down, not wanting to projectile vomit all over your breakfast.

I’ll show you nasty, Elsie. Don’t test me.

You rolled your eyes at her remark, finally getting the remains of the drink down. You held your napkin to your face, coughing a bit. “Says the woman who’s talking and chewing,” you said, your voice weak to avoid any bile rising in your throat and at the sour, putrid taste still sitting on your tongue. “And you’re one to talk–telling me way more than I need to know about Josh.”

She snickered. “I’ll tell you more. Just say the word.”

Laughing once outright, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that won’t ever be happening,” you tried taking a bite of hash browns to get the taste of orange juice off your tongue. But it only made it worse. Your throat was not ready to accept any more at the moment. Spitting the mushy remains in your napkin, folding it up so as not to offend other customers. Your throat was tight as you responded. “I need water.”

“Here we go, babydoll! Waffles just for you,” the waitress returned, placing the food right in front of you. The waffle did not look appetizing in the slightest. You didn’t bother looking up to say anything, instead squeezing your eyes shut and willing the nausea away. “You okay, sweetie? D’ya need anything?”

“Can we get a water and a Sprite?” Elsie intervened, calmly requesting. “And like, ASAP, if that’s doable. . .”

“Sure thing! Back in a flash!”

You kept your eyes closed, the twirling in your stomach not going away, but not intensifying either. You were scared to talk–afraid of what might come from your mouth if you did.

“Here,” the sweet, older lady’s voice rang through, as you heard the plastic cups hit the table. She was rushing, her voice moving fast. “Gotta go to another table, but wave me down if ya need me, sugar.”

“I think we’re good for now,” Elsie reassured. You could hear the smile in her tone. “Thank you so much.” A few seconds passed, then your sister was tapping your hand that was still laid on the table. “Sis, please take a drink from one of them.”

Keeping one hand pressed to your mouth, you tapped the wrapper off of the straw. You chose the carbonated Sprite, banking on the carbonation and natural aid of Sprite for a sensitive stomach.

As soon as the ice cold, fizzing drink hit your tongue, you felt relief. The feeling hadn’t gone away in your tummy, but you also didn’t feel like you were going to hurl at any moment anymore either. You took a few short, yet healthy, sips, eyes closing again to center yourself.

Your eyes trailed back to hers after you sat the cup down.

“You okay?” Elsie questioned, following you with her blue eyes, which swam with concern. You nodded, then she talked again. “Do you get sick a lot?”

Reaching for the water, you took one little drink of that, finally feeling able to talk. Your stomach was simmering slowly. You pushed the plates away, needing the food away from you for the time being.

“Not hungry?”

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “Not now. Fuckin’ orange juice,” you flipped off the offensively orange drink. Elsie snorted at you, and you grinned at her. “And to answer you, yes. I puke all of the time. Thought it was stress at first. Just throwing up because of all of my stress.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing her own food away. “You’re an idiot.” You scoffed at that, offended. “I’m just saying. You’ve never been a puker. Fevers and shit, yes. But never thrown up a whole lot. And you’ve had some terrible fucking stress in your life. . . never vomiting from any of it; just to remind you.”

“I guess I just wanted to stay ignorant,” you admitted. “And I didn’t think it was possible at all that I was pregnant.”

She hummed in understanding, then she leveled you with a stare as she took a drink of her coffee.

“What now?” You groaned. “You fuckin’ weas–.”

“Does Jake know?”

Your stomach fell all the way to the bottom your feet. Fuck. What? How did she know?

Stupidly, you tried to reject it. Why would you try to hide it from her? You didn’t know. There was no point in trying to hide it.

“Why would he need to know? This doesn’t concern him. He’s not the fath—.”

She practically honked with a huge laugh, blossoming from the back of her throat. You blushed, sinking back into your seat. Why would you even try to play dumb? You knew better than to do that with her.

After wiping a little tear from below her eye, she sipped at her water. Sitting her glass down, she coughed a couple times and snorted with another giggle before continuing. “Please do not insult my intelligence like that.”

Weakly, you tried to defend yourself. “You believed me at the festival that we weren’t fucking anymore, so I just assumed–.”

“You think I believed that shit?!” She gawked at you– in disbelief that you’d thought that of her. “I just wasn’t going to push it out of you while you were so obviously in the depths of sorrow over that girl that was with him.”

Face flushing yet again, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “‘Depths of sorrow’ is dramatic.” And true, you silently agreed with her. So incredibly, stupidly true.

“And you’re pregnant with Jake’s kid,” she pushed, wanting to hear you say it yourself.

You looked up at her through your lashes, not ready to say it out loud. But definitely needing to. . . and who better than your sister to say it out loud to for the very first time?

“Jake is the baby’s father, yes,” you said plainly, looking directly in her eyes as you said it. Then, immediately peering out the window, directly to your right. “Half him, half me,” you murmured, under your breath.

You pressed your shoulder, clad in your fluffy sweater, against the chilled glass. You still felt the coldness from the brisk autumn day through the thick windows. It calmed your heart which beat frantically against your breastbone. Talking out loud about Jake being the father of your child made reality slap you in the face. You were carrying Jake’s baby. Inside your womb was half of Jake and half of you. Together. Something you’d made. . . together.

The thought of a part of him just floating around in your uterus was honestly jarring. . . but not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. No, in fact because the baby was half of him, you’d decided you had to keep it. Jake was the reason that the baby was a necessity to this world. A piece of the first man you’d ever. . .

You shook your head amidst the raging thoughts, deciding to cut them off right. there. That was a path you did not want to venture down.

Dangerous territory.

Knowing the baby was his and that fact being was the sole reason you had to keep it. . .that was big enough for you to acknowledge. Huge, actually. . . You couldn’t believe you’d let yourself face that so surely and honestly. But. . . that was something you refused to tell your sister. That was one thing for you and only you to know. It felt too personal to share–belonged in your heart alone.

The mother and child you were observing just outside Waffle House were about to get you lost in thought again . . . You could spend hours appreciating a true, authentic love between a mother and her child. You’d never had it, and it was just so unique in and of itself. A relationship that held its own definition of love. A love so lovely, precious, safe. . . wholesome.

You were desperate to create that for a child. Something you hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing. And the baby in your womb deserved to feel it. . . But could you do it? Or were you too much like your mom?

Before you could fall down that depressing rabbit hole, you slowly swiveled your head back in the direction of your sister.

Then, without much contemplation, you unloaded. Told her everything. Informed her of the situation between you and Jake, how you started feeling iffy about all of it towards the end, and then how you’d decided to cut it off due to your desire to protect him. It rushed out of your mouth, with almost no thought and you honestly didn’t have time to consider anything before it slipped from your lips and into the air between the two of you.

Elsie was watching you, eyes attentively following your every word and movement. She looked ready to help. As always. Her eyes, the color of the ocean and just as deep and sure as the waves that enveloped it. The overwhelming calm you felt after telling her, also similar to the ocean in its ability to offer peace. . .

What she said first was not what you were expecting. No counsel. Just humility.

“I’m sorry for what I said about you watching that girl with Jake at the festival,” she started, tucking her hands in her lap, expression sincere. “That was callous. Not the time.”

Wrinkling your brow, you argued back, unnecessarily defensive and overwrought with emotion after spilling all of that and for the life in your belly (lovely hormones). “I’m still me, Elsie,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

She raised a brow, combatting you. “Fine. If you’re still you, then I can say this: get the fuck over yourself and just be with him,” taking a drink of her coffee, she made a face. “Room temperature coffee is absolute balls,” she looked over her shoulder, trying to connect eyes with the waitress.

You saw the woman head your way, and immediately got the hint when Elsie held the cup out with puppy dog eyes. “You’ve got it, sweet baby.”

“Thank you,” Elsie said, her voice that of a grateful servant to the woman.

“You, with your food and drinks that must be so hot they burn your mout–.”

“We’re not done with you. So, shut up.”

“Jesus, Elsie! I–.”

Holding a perfectly manicured hand up, black nails flashing in front of you briefly, she cut you off. “No! I don’t want to hear any more of the bullshit. You’re literally having his baby. Get over this. . . thing in your head, and just be with him. You obviously want it. And I think he does, too.”

You sighed, the breath coming fully from your lungs. It wasn’t like you didn’t want it, too. . . it was just complicated. “It’s not that easy, Elsie,” you lamented. “There are several pieces to the puzzle.”

“Liiiiike . . .?”

“Well, for one,” you held up a finger to start the count. “He has a girlfriend now.”

“No he doesn’t,” she scrunched her face, completely disagreeing. “He’s not with any–.”

“They showed up to the party together, Elsie. The girl from the festival. And they have a past. He was groping her all night last night and she never left his side,” you repeated the events aloud, your stomach rolling at the heinous thoughts.

“Oh, shit,” her eyes got big, blowing out a slow breath. “I didn’t even realize. Josh and I–.”

“Were roaming the room for half of the night and preoccupied for the rest of it,” you said, shivering at the deplorable thought of your friend and sister.

“I was with you for a good chunk of it, too, bitch,” she corrected, pointing at you.

You stuck out your lip, nodding to agree. “You’re right. . .but you were also way too distracted by Josh to notice.”

She made the same face, mirroring you. “You are not wrong,” she grinned smartly, winking suggestively. “No regrets.”

“I’m going to puke on you.”

“Oh my god, please don’t,” she gagged. And then started singing a thank you as the waitress came back with your tickets and a fresh coffee. After dumping one million half and half cups into her mug, she took a hearty sip. When she sat it down, she practically vibrated in delight. “Oh hell yeah.”

“You know Josh hates coffee,” you noted. “Prefers tea.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. We’ve had many long debates over the ridiculous fact,” she growled. “He’s a miscreant when he wants to be.”

You laughed outright. “Yes he is. Little fuckin’ gremlin.”

The sound that roared out of her was more reminiscent of a yell than a laugh, but it became a string of snorting and giggles that you joined in on. After a few minutes of enjoying the sound of the other’s laughter, you shook your head and scratched your brow before seeing your phone light up with a notification.

Stupidly, your tummy fluttered at the possibility of it being Jake texting you. But then you remembered that he would absolutely not be texting you in his right mind. . . that was not where you were with him right now. You weren’t sure you’d ever be there with him again. And that thought made your tummy sink as soon as it’d fluttered.

Though, the notification on your screen was enough to bring a little grin to your face, your eyes watering with the overwhelming excitement and joy that ignited in your heart at the update from your Ovia Pregnancy app.

Week 10: Congratulations, y/n! You’re heading into the tail end of your first trimester. Your baby is now the size of a kumquat and almost 1 ¼ inches long!

Not being able to help it, you turned your phone to Elsie so she could see the notification as well.

She read through it, her mouth moving as she took in the words. A wide, toothy smile made its way to her face–her entire demeanor lighting up with you. Clutching both hands to her chest, her eyes were wet next time you saw them. Your own eyes filled with more tears at her reaction to it.

“I’m so proud to be an aunt to your little kumquat baby!” She said, her voice actually quivering with emotion.

“I’m glad you’re proud,” you responded with a sniffle, drying your undereyes with a Waffle House napkin. “I’m proud, too.”

Her smile turned close-mouthed, yet no less sincere and delighted. “You should be,” she paused, then her crying eyes dried a bit as her tone turned serious. “And Jake will be, too. I know it, babe,” she stopped, pondering a thought. “You are going to tell him, right?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer. He had to know. You wanted him too, really. “Yes.” Then, your tummy flipped. “ But I don’t know if he’ll be super excited when I do,” you shook your head. “This was not in the cards for him this year. . . I wouldn’t blame him if he rejected the idea of me being pregnant with his baby.”

“Well, he wouldn’t reject it. I can say that for certain–I’m dating his twin and I know Josh would never reject a baby,” she said, wiping at her face with her own napkin. “And, I’m going to argue the other part, too. . . it obviously was in the cards for him,” she reached a hand out towards you and you took it. “This happened for a reason, sis. A good one. And Jake will view it as such.”

“I just don’t want it to slow him down,” you squeezed her hand, looking down to where they entwined on the gray table. “I need him to keep going and chase his dream.”

She raised a brow, shook her head from side to side, once again disbelieving. “He will, y/n. He’ll keep going. Josh is– and he and I are dating?. . . What’s the difference?”

“Where do I start? Most importantly, I’m messed up in the head and I need to work on myself before I expose him to myself,” you insisted, bringing your hand back to place on your tummy. “And he and Josh are different. . .Josh has a drive that Jake doesn’t. Jake gave up his dream before and he’ll do it again if he’s allowed. And a baby is already damn near the most drastically life changing thing that could happen to a person. Could completely screw up his plans,” you sighed resolutely. It was clear to her that you were firm on this, so she sat back with open and considerate eyes to let you finish. “Best to keep things separate between us so he has one less thing that is tempting him to put himself last. A baby is enough.”

She hummed, taking it all in. After taking a moment, she gave a response. “I just have one question.”

“Yes?” You prepared yourself, raising a brow.

“What’s the difference between you and the girl?-- What’s her name anyway?”

“Maya,” ugh. Hate that name. “Her name is Maya. And she is normal where I am not.”

“O-kaaaay,” she replied, still unsure of the validity in your response. You didn’t know why she seemed so unsure. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you were jacked up. She let out a massive sigh, then continued. “Well, I don’t personally think you know her well enough to make that assumption. She could be more detrimental to him than you–.”

“Not possib–.”

“And you could be exactly what he needs,” she said, almost in finality, though it was obvious she wasn’t done when she leaned forward, her tone hard and steadfast. “You’re also not as “jacked up” as you seem to believe you are. Have you got things to heal? Yes. But are you still one of the most incredible people that has ever walked this planet–if not the most incredible? Even more so, yes,” her eyes watered again, but she sniffed the tears away to say her last piece. “I think you could very well be exactly what Jake Kiszka needs to be complete. And even though I wasn’t around for all of the intricacies of you two, I should’ve caught on. Because I do know the way that man fucking looks at you. . . and dammit if I’ve ever seen another man look at a woman the way he looks at you. . . not even Josh with me or Grandpa with Grandma.”

Your heart swelled and your cheeks grew instantly red. Your blood buzzed in your veins. . . did he really look at you like that?

Then, selfishly, you wondered if anyone else had noticed like Elsie had. . . like Josh. Fuck. Did he see how Jake looked at you? Had he already presumed things about you and Jake based on how his twin apparently, blatantly, ogled you? And then you realized, yet again, how you would have to obviously tell Josh of the baby. . . oh god; how would he react?

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need anyone to–.”

“To know?” She squeaked a giggle. “I’m sorry, babe. . . but I think your cover’s about to be totally blown within the next nine months.”

You groaned, placing your forehead in your hand as you blew your hair away from your face. “How will Josh react?” You moaned, halfway to yourself and halfway to her.

“What?”

You snapped up. “How in the hell is Josh going to react?!” You anxiously quizzed her, eyes wild. “He is already going to be hurt that I kept it from him. And then there’s the reason I kept it from him in the first place. . .,” you felt tears well in your throat right before you nearly slammed your head on your crossed arms, which laid against the table, dramatically.

Okay, these hormones can fuck right off.

“Why’s that, sissy?” She carefully inquired, tone soft, not judging your reaction the way you internally were. “Remind me again.”

You moaned, raising your head and willing the tears away. “He made it so incredibly clear to me how Jake didn’t need another woman infiltrating his life and distracting him. And how Jake needed this time to discover himself for the first time in his life. . . and I’ve completely ignored that desire of his,” a lone tear slipped from your ducts. “I’ve betrayed him. Selfishly.”

Letting the words sit in the air between you, she waited a couple of beats before inserting her two cents. “When does Jake finally get what he wants?”

You wrinkled a brow, tears completely dissipating out of curiosity for her next words.

“I mean. . .” she started, making a thoughtful smacking sound with her mouth. “Josh thinks he can call the shots. You think you can just decide to not let yourself ruin his life? Like, what the hell, first of all? And second of all. . . what if he doesn’t care about any of that shit and just wants you? Did you ever take a second to consider that?”

“Yes, Elsie,” you growled, defensive once again. “And that’s why I’m keeping the ball in my court. I’m protecting him. And that was Josh’s intent, too.”

“I don’t know where you two get off acting like Jake isn’t a grown ass man who can make his own decisions. . .,” she trailed off, flashing an irritated look out the window.

You did not want to get into this right now. The conversation was trailing much further than you fucking wanted. Your nerves were practically electrifying you and your head felt heavy.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Elsie,” you shortly bit out at her. She snapped her head back at you, her eyes still on fire. You stayed firm. “I’m done talking about all of that shit,” your hands laid safely on your lower, swelling tummy. “I have bigger things to consider now,” after glancing down at your stomach, you hit her with another stern glare. “So drop it.”

Her chest was heaving.

You were not sure what was happening; why was she suddenly so “Team Jake”? When had that happened? And again, why?

“Fine,” she conceded, sniffing resolutely once and then went to sip her coffee. Which, by the look on her face, was cold again. “Yuck. Can we bust this joint and go to Starbs? I need the sweet stuff.”

You sighed with relief at the change in subject. “Yes,” you smiled. “Let’s.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was just you and your sister in the open apartment, which was now completely cleaned from last night’s festivities due to your obsessive-compulsive cleaning. Though, you couldn’t help but notice when you’d come back from breakfast, Jake had been gone and the apartment looked much better than when you’d left with Elsie. It felt nice that he cared for the apartment, too–enough to try to keep it clean.

You trained your thoughts on Elsie, as she waited at the door to leave, bags completely packed, awaiting her Uber to the airport (you were, unfortunately, so suddenly fucking tired that you had decided you weren’t fit to drive her).

You didn’t want to let her go. She was your one person who knew now, and no matter how much she challenged your stance on Jake, she was still your sister and your person and you needed her with you during this time. . .

“Can you not just stay for a couple more days?” You tried once more, knowing better than to ask, as she’d repeated the words more than once now. “Let them know your sister is having an existential crisis and needs you?”

She huffed with a grin, rolling her eyes. “You are literally fine,” she reassured, reaching a hand out to hold your arm. But instead of letting it stop there, you fell into it and let yourself fall into her–let yourself wrap both of your arms around her shoulders, hugging yourself tightly to her.

“Please don’t leave,” you moaned, your voice so meek it was straight up depressing. “I need you.”

She hugged you back, dropped her duffel off her shoulder in the process of embracing you. “I always need you, sissy,” she agreed. “But I’m just a FaceTime or text away,” she assured you, combing her hands through your wet hair, having taken a shower while she’d been gone saying her goodbyes to Josh. “I’m here. And you have people here. You just need to let. them. in.”

“I know. . .,” you sighed hotly into her natural curls. “I’m just so scared to tell Jo–.”

“I’m tired of hearing that, babe,” she asserted firmly. “Because the last person you need to be scared to tell is Joshua,” she stated, leaving no room for argument, right in your ear. “And if you think about it, you know him well enough to fucking know that. So get out of your maze of thoughts and know the truth.”

She was right. . . Truly, you knew she was. You knew his heart. But. . . “How will I even. . .?”

Pulling away from you, she kept her hands wrapped around your forearms, keeping a caring hold on you. Keeping you near. “I’ve actually been thinking about this, like, all day. . . but the first thing that came to my mind is what I keep going back to.”

You waited for more, but she didn’t continue her thought. Impatient, you asked. “Which is. . .?”

“Invite him to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe your. . .first?” she offered, questioning the last part. But sounded completely sure of her idea. “It’s the perfect way to break it to him. And. . .if I’m correct, I’m assuming you haven’t had one yet since you just decided to keep it?”

“Yeah. . . no appointment yet. So, I could. . .ugh,” you answered. “But– why? How–? Will he–?”

“It’s the ideal situation because he will feel like he’s being helpful and loving. He’ll be able to be there for you. He’ll feel needed and involved and that is literally all Josh wants in general in life, so. . .”

“It’s perfect,” you weakly agreed. It really was. You couldn’t deny it.

“Yes, it is,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her duffel bag back over her shoulder. “I came up with it.”

You scoffed. “Okay, now. Don’t get a big fuckin’ head, loser.”

“Bitch,” she bit back, shoving your shoulder.

Rubbing your shoulder in faux pain, you gave her a pitiful expression. “Elsie. I am with child, you need to be careful with me now.”

Bursting with a chuckle, straight from her chest, she shoved your other shoulder. “I’m not touching the damn stomach, so I’m good.”

You shoved her back, dropping the act and giggling with her. “You right, you right,” you said. Then, your thoughts came back to the task at hand. The baby that was squirming around in you. “I’m still scared.”

“That’s another perfect aspect of telling him in that scenario though,” she added, assuring you with her opinion. “You can’t back out. You’ll have to tell him if he meets you at the doctor’s office or takes you there or whatever the hell he does. . . you’ll have no choice but to tell him before you go in. And he’ll just have to take it,” she said, her plan sounding, admittedly, concrete. “He will survive,” she dropped her hands from your arms and looped her belt bag around her chest before placing a hand delicately to your cheek. “I promise he’ll survive.”

Just then, her phone dinged, indicating her Uber had arrived. So, with many “I love you’s” and a few curse words, you were following her down the stairs, then hugging her tightly once more outside of her awaiting Uber.

And as you watched her leave the parking lot, the tears started to flow. So. many. tears. Steady, hard, relentless weeping. . .

The emotions were obviously true, yes, but the hormones–and your current, lonely headspace– were amplifying the already-existing emotions of her leaving to an incredibly irritating degree.

But before you could lose yourself in them any more, you heard a door to a car shut to your left, along with a laugh you knew all too well. Jake was home.

And if you didn’t move, he was going to see you as a hysterical mess and you did not want his fucking pity right now. Last thing you needed. And worse, you also didn’t want to see his expression, for the chance it might be hard and uncaring. You also didn’t want to possibly see a certain woman arrive with him.

You were sure she was with him. The feminine giggle you heard accompanying his endearing chuckles could be no one else.

So, instead of looking in his direction, you turned quickly on your heel and speed-walked up the stairs, a hand on your tummy to avoid any hurt to the kumquat baby.

As soon as your back hit the closed door, you breathed a sigh, which turned into a long yawn. The kind that made you shiver with a sudden, urgent desire to sleep. You didn’t have to work today, you’d canceled study plans. . . So suddenly, you felt abundantly free and a nap sounded like the perfect remedy to the overwhelming emotions of your day.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday came and went before you even knew it was happening. As did Tuesday. As did Wednesday. And when Thursday came around, you had your Modern Poetry elective. The one class you had with someone you knew relatively well.

You hadn’t made it a priority to make tons of friends while in school to get your degree–you’d had Josh and Elsie, and eventually Sammy and Danny. . .and that had been enough.

But, when Theo had popped back up into your life, anytime you saw him in a class, it really did feel nice to be around someone familiar at school. Even though he was on the more annoying side, he was still a good confidant.

And especially with the massive course load this semester, having someone you knew around was helpful. Good for feeling less alone. He was somebody who was going through school with you; he got the overwhelming amount of pressure from school, too. He felt the senioritis, too. . . but, his case was slightly different.

He was ready to be done with school so he could pursue this career he longed to have in writing, while you were just ready to be done.

Initially, when you had started the semester, you were just ready to be out of Pratt because you felt like you were wasting your time on a degree you’d lost passion for (save for your minor in media studies which gave you the occasional music-related course).

Now you weren’t sure why you were ready to be done. What made you feel more anxious to put Pratt in the past now? Was it the burning desire to be done with a passionless major? Or did the life in your tummy have something to do with it? The thought of the baby you held inside honestly got your blood pumping more excitedly in your veins than a college degree ever could.

You really only cared about ascertaining a healthy baby– no longer caring much for a piece of paper saying you had studied writing, uselessly, for four long years.

But you had to make it through school. If not for you, for your baby. You didn’t have much longer left, and you owed it to that child to see this through. You had to find some drive though. So, in came Theo to help with that. He was great at encouraging others, and that was exactly what you needed while trudging through the sixteen hours of classes you’d enrolled in this semester.

When you were getting up to leave for class that afternoon, you had your mind set on a big jar of baby pickles (stereotypical pregnant woman, much?). You were ready to get off campus and to the nearest grocery store for the deliciously tangy food.

Before you could leave your two-person table, though, a hand came out to grab your arm as a way of stopping you. If you had acted on impulse, you would have whined and stomped your foot in protest at being kept from satisfying your pickle craving.

But you didn’t act like a petulant child. Instead, you turned around, eyes opened and ready for whatever was needed from you.

And when you looked behind your shoulder, Theo was there, a head or so above you, smiling and waiting for a response.

“Yes?” You asked, semi-irritatedly, semi-sweetly. “What’s up?”

He just stared a little while longer, blinking rapidly before shaking his head. His blonde hair had grown out a bit and shook with the movement, eyes twinkling just enough, making your heart thump a little harder in your chest.

Why in the hell?

“I meant to ask you Tuesday, but you were gone before I could,” he started, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder. He shifted on his feet a little before peering curiously into your eyes. “Are you okay? I missed seeing you for our usual Sunday study time. . .”

You swallowed, slightly grumpy that he felt the need to pry.

He’s just showing he cares, y/n, the angelic voice said, which now stopped by more occasionally than the negative one.

Not wanting to tell him anything too personal (God, no), you went with the bare minimum. “A friend hosted a Halloween party at my place on Saturday, and my sister was actually in town for it,” you divulged, wrapping your fists tighter around the straps of your backpack. Please let me leave after this. “So I hung out with her yesterday while she was still in town.”

Not the whole truth, but not so much dishonesty to me feel bad.

“Oh!” He said, a light hearted laugh accompanying his tone. “Cool. I remember from high school how close you two were.”

I remember how much she didn’t like you, you thought, feeling uneasy at past-Elsie’s opinion of the guy.

Was he really that bad though? He’d been great for you during high school. Even though it had only been a year of time with him, he had still been a decent person to have around during those formative years of your life. He had been considerate, kind, helpful. . . the only negative things you could remember were the few times he’d try to get you to calm down on unnecessary occasions. He could be occasionally judgmental, but wasn’t everyone to an extent?

And maybe you and Elsie had only been your average, overly sensitive high school girls and had thought he was worse than he actually was.

Because at this moment, all you could see were the green flecks in his blue eyes and how they caught the sun that shone in from the window behind you, and onto his pale face. The way he waited earnestly to hear your response made you feel special and valuable to him at this moment and what woman didn’t like that?

“Yeah,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear before folding your hands over your chest. Aaand, wincing, you quickly moved them away. Your boobs were especially tender with the extra pressure against them. Every day they seemed to get more sensitive to the touch, feeling heavier–fuller. “We’re still that close. Probably closer now, actually. After living together, and then her job forcing her to be far away often. . .,” you trailed off, sad at the thought of her being so far away all the damn time. “We’re forced to communicate way more than we ever have before.”

He nodded, winking at you. And although he was cute, you didn’t feel anything at the wink, really. It didn’t swirl your tummy with nerves like it would with someone. . .else. You chalked it up to the craving that was still distracting you, making your tummy growl.

He cleared his throat before he tucked one hand in a jeans pocket and one tighter around the strap of his bag. “Intentional is the word,” he added with another wink, seeming to understand to a degree. But you caught the aggravating ‘know-it-all’ attitude. Tipping his head, he looked at you with smiling eyes. “You okay?” He motioned with his hand at your neck-chest region.

Your brow furrowed, confused. Defenses were instantly raised and you took a step back, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “Yes?” You retorted, tilting your head to challenge him. “Why?”

“Just saw you flinch and all,” he said, in wonder at your tone. When he spoke next, he no longer seemed understanding, only misunderstanding. “Nothing big. Don’t worry,” he held his hands out, as if calming a tiger.

You felt stupid for overreacting, so you covered your tracks with a forced giggle, masking the situation the best you could with a straight-up (ironic) lie. “Just a certain time of the month,” you explained extremely falsely. “Overly reactive to everything right now.” That was true.

“Oh,” he pointed a finger at you, pretending to get it. “Makes sense.”

Okay, you thought, squinting at him as he looked to the side with a sort of confidence. Maybe Elsie had been onto something. . .

But then he peered down at you again with his sparkly eyes and shaggy, naturally blonde hair. It made you feel a little weak for the guy, even with him irritating you.

But why was he irritating you, exactly? Maybe your emotions were controlling you a little too much– getting too easily offended thanks to the hormones. . . Perhaps he was just acting like a normal human, while you were the one who wasn't reacting like a normal human.

Your stomach was fucking growling though. . .Theo didn’t matter worth fuck at that moment. What did matter was how badly your body was craving eating for two. If you didn’t eat soon, you were afraid you would faint from lack of sustenance (you definitely wouldn’t, but there were the over-reactive feelings again).

You started backing up, and made it just next to the table when you were saying your next words. “I’m going to go ahead and get out of her–.”

“Wait!”

Having just turned on your heel, your face was hidden from view, and you were able to roll your eyes when you heard him. You weren’t going to stop though. He could follow you to the parking lot. You were hungry and grouchy and ready to eat an entire jar of pickles before crashing hard against your sheets. Before you had to show up at the B&G for the evening shift.

“Follow me,” you said, short, only looking over your shoulder at him briefly before continuing your trek. But please don’t talk for long.

You were just outside North Hall when you decided to stop, so you wouldn’t have to fear him stalling you at your car.

“What’s up?” You asked, playing cool despite your desire to grumble.

“I actually– I just thought–,” he laughed, seemingly at himself. He scratched behind his ear. Then he stood up straight, determined after tucking both hands into his front pockets and clearing his throat for the second time that day. You noticed his jeans, dark wash, skinny, and complimenting his firm thighs. “I wanted to ask you to hang out with me sometime– outside of here.”

Seriously? He was stopping your pickle eating for this?

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, confused. “We do hang out,” you grasped tightly to the straps of your backpack again, anxious to get food. Already tired of him. “Every Sunday.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, pausing. Then he grinned in a way you assumed he thought was cute. But all it really did was make your eyes hurt from the inability to roll, out of courtesy for him. He continued, taking a step closer. Your hands did start perspiring and your heart sped up positively at his proximity. “But I thought maybe we could do something not related to school?”

You opened your mouth to reject it–you were not interested. For many reasons. The biggest being the baby in your belly. . .

Although, the more you pondered the baby, you realized more than that, you were hesitant because of his or her father.

Not the child, but Jake. The man that was ever-present in your mind– with his beautiful, brunette hair, eyes the color of understanding, easing you in the most complex situations. . . and the heart that’d made the world suddenly make sense. . . (Which still scared the hell out of you, by the way.)

But. . .as the thoughts spiraled, it all started to have the opposite effect. Made you want to agree.

So, you did.

You said yes to hanging out with Theo. Because, as soon as that thought process had started derailing, you knew it was best to agree. The idea of hanging out with him seemed like a great distraction from Jake. A much needed one.

What you had with Jake was nothing and it was in the past. For a reason.

After you watched him smile wide and say he’d text you, he went to join a heap of Pratt’s fraternity boys. You could only hope that maybe getting out there and hanging out with someone else would get your mind off of Jake.

You did not want it going further than a few dates with Theo. Just a little time with Theo would surely be all it took to get your headspace cleared and make it easier to navigate life.

The repercussions to its ending were literally nothing. You’d switch seats in class and force yourself through school with the occasional encouragement from Elsie. Theo was not a necessary addition to your life long-term, but you figured he could help you short-term, while also creating long lasting benefits.

Surely you could divert your thoughts from Jake. Think of the child first, and put its father on the backburner as you weaved through this next chapter in your life. . . No matter how badly you wanted him with you through all of it, experiencing it all first hand with you, it was the wiser decision to keep things separate.

And, as an additional help, Theo would make it obvious to Jake that you were willing to keep your life separate.

So, when you did eventually tell Jake (dear fucking God), there would be an additional party that emphasized you’d moved on and all that mattered now was the baby.

Not the two of you. That ship needed to sail.

Even though the thought made your stomach hurt like hell and tears well in your eyes as you pulled into the nearest Trader Joe’s for pickles. . . you knew it was the truth.

-🌼🌼🌼-

That evening, you took a longer route to work, choosing to listen to a podcast you’d found.

Having listened to the first episode on the way to school that morning, you decided to fill your cup with another episode on the way to work.

It was a magnificent podcast that was all about the ‘ins and outs’ of pregnancy, being a new mother, and how to grow mentally and emotionally during such a unique time.

The second episode was going just as well as the first until you heard one of the moderators’ voices get low and forlorn.

“You know ladies. . . the first time I got pregnant is planted firmer in my memory than any of my other pregnancies,” she said, sighing heavily.

“Oh, yeah, Jen,” another moderator said, voice growing dim with Jen’s, apparently (you were still getting accustomed to their names). “I bet, babe. . . The ones that are lost are the ones that stick so close it fuckin’ hurts and heals at the same time. . .”

“Agreed, Tally,” the third—and last—speaker on the podcast chimed in. “I’ll touch on my story after Jen.”

“Thanks, Molly,” Jen’s voice rang through your speakers again. “Yeah, it’s just a different feeling when they’re there and then suddenly they’re not. . . When you imagine holding them in your arms for God knows how long and then it suddenly becomes impossible to do so,” Jen sniffed, and just as she did, you felt a tear hit your own cheek. God, you were hurting with her. “Every woman is different, but I just hang onto my loss like nothing else. And not necessarily in a bad way— just in an attempt to sort of keep the baby here with me— Give her the life she never got to fully live.”

Dammit, the tears wouldn’t let up. They were trailing down your cheeks steadily. When you got to the next stop light, you had to grab a napkin from your glovebox to blot at your cheeks, already marked with black streaks of mascara. Thankfully you could still wipe them up easily, not dried to your skin quite yet. But you knew the crying wouldn’t be letting up soon. Your emotions had been triggered and you would be seeing this sadness through. (Hello, pregnancy hormones.)

You took turns holding the napkin under each eye, making sure to catch the tears as they continued.

“I’m right there with you, Jenny,” a voice you now recognized as Molly’s said. “Even though my stories are a little different.”

Stories?

God. You kept your eyes on the road as you popped open the glovebox once more, grabbing a fistful of left-over restaurant napkins.

Sitting them on top of your legging-clad thighs, right where you could reach them, you took a right turn towards the B&G.

“I’m sure we have listeners who will relate to all of these stories,” Tally interjected, sniffing. “Both of you girls.”

“I hope we’re able to help someone,” Jen responded, voice still thick, but not so bad as before.

You heard a sigh before Molly started speaking again. “The first time I carried was very similar to Jenny’s. Lost the baby. Early on. The worst loss I’ve ever experienced—I will never understand why we lose them,” her voice shook with sadness. But, it soon transitioned to a hot flash of irate frustration when she spoke next. “I will also never understand the people who invalidate our experiences just because they were lost in the womb or lost as little tiny babies. . . Just because they weren’t full grown people, outside of the womb, when it happened. . . doesn’t make it hurt any less. You have just as much to mourn for the life they completely lost.” And just as soon as she was firm, her voice was soft again. “The life we lost before it was time.”

The other two agreed, voices low out of respect for the moment.

“Then there was my second. . .,” she blew out a breath, as if preparing. She gave a half-laugh. “Strange occurrence. . .”

“But it happens!” One of the other two chimed in.

“Sure as hell does,” Molly said. “The second time I carried, I had a hysterical pregnancy– a case that only 6 women in 22,000 experience. . .”

“I can’t imagine. . .,” Tally breathed a sigh out. “Your body, tricking you like that.”

“Yeah, and it felt completely real– like everything you’d expect,” she replied, thoughtful. “Like everything I experienced with the one I’d lost before. . . And, God, it was so incredibly hard to get through once I found out what my body had done to me. . . I just wanted a healthy baby–especially after the loss. I was still hurting badly from losing the first when it happened. Almost like my body was playing tricks on me just to see how far I could stretch mentally and emotionally,” she laughed under her breath, in spite of it all.

“So fucking cruel, babe. . .”

But you weren’t focusing hard enough to know who was talking anymore. You’d caught on to the stories they’d told and now you were over analyzing your situation. . . Questioning everything. . . Was this real? Was there a baby there? Were you having a hysterical pregnancy? Was your body playing tricks on you?

Or, had you been pregnant, and had now lost the baby like those women had? Were you still carrying the life you’d started planning around? The little life you were becoming more and more attached to by the day?

Had you ever been carrying it?

As you pulled into work, you put one shaking hand on your rounded lower belly.

- 🌼🌼🌼-

Suffice to say, your entire evening shift was spent in over-contemplation and searching miscarriages, hysterical pregnancies, and semi-local OBGYN’s during the lull of customers.

As you’d searched online for a clinic, you were not looking for places too close, as you didn’t want God and everybody seeing you enter the clinic on a regular basis (if you, in fact, were to find out you were carrying a tiny little bean-baby). You sure as hell didn’t need anyone to start questioning you before you were ready to offer up answers.

Once you finally left your longest shift ever, you drove home in deep thought and drowning silence.

Your research over miscarriages and hysterical pregnancies had done you very little good. They’d actually done you no good at all, if you were being honest. Everything you’d read made you question a lot.

Because, everything that could possibly reassure you was also possible in a hysterical pregnancy or a miscarriage.

One: your growing tummy (which could continue growing in both of the sad, unwanted instances). Two: your hurting breasts (which could still hurt in both sad, unwanted instances). And three: your nausea (which could still occur in both sad, unwanted instances).

Once at home, you took a hot second getting ready for bed— lost in thought, you decided to try to tiring yourself with a bath, complete with lavender scented bath salts and bubbles. Once you were finally in bed, cozy in your softest pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, you tried so hard to force yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to have to wait any longer to call the nice little clinic you’d found.

And you sure as hell weren’t hungry. Didn’t want to eat with your stomach spinning with so many nerves.

And, the sooner you fell asleep, the sooner you could call the clinic and schedule an appointment.

- 🌼🌼🌼-

But, after laying there for what felt like hours– the sounds of calming ocean waves playing through your phone and everything– you were still awake.

You were drowning in all of the thoughts. Drown-ing.

One that was flashing brightly at the front of your mind was why you even cared so much. And, the more you thought about it, tossing and turning, you realized you’d found the most unique, fulfilling form of reassurance in carrying the child. You wanted this baby. It had happened without you even meaning it to. . . but you wanted this baby so. fucking. badly. You’d tried damn hard not to want the little thing, but now that you’d spent so much time pondering it and holding your tummy? There was no question about any of it. You just wanted your baby and you couldn’t figure out how to explain it.

After rolling around far too much in bed, you realized you still hadn’t heard the telling sounds of Jake coming home. So, you decided to venture out into the living room to let a TV show distract you. Hopefully distract you enough to go to sleep. Pillow, Stanley, and phone in hand, you grabbed the fluffiest blanket from your blanket basket and nestled into your couch.

Just as you’d turned the TV to Friends–wanting to feel closer to Elsie, but not feeling brave enough to talk to her whilst already being so emotional–, you heard the sound of a key jingling in the locked doorknob. And then the door was opening and you were looking behind you at the sound— for God knows what reason.

Then he was all you saw.

Jake.

Clad in the most handsome black, felt peacoat, the top of his head hidden by a black beanie. . . the chilly evening’s attire suited him so well that it brought a ridiculous tear to your eye.

So devastatingly handsome and not at all mine, your thoughts became enveloped with storm clouds.

Thankfully he didn’t see you staring, as he seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact as he went about setting his keys in the bowl and taking his coat off to hang it on the rack by the door. And, as his actions cemented your thoughts, your eyes became wetter, a tear falling down your cheek for this stupid ass, cruel reality that you’d created. Even if you had done it for a good reason—and you had—it still sucked big ass.

But, just as soon as your eyes were growing teary, your heart was beating erratically in your chest. The sight of the soft, tanned skin between the opened lapels of his shirt— exposed after taking off the coat. And the silver necklaces that clanged against his bare chest were the same he’d worn for Halloween. . . Your mouth watered as you observed the way they fell between his pecs which rose and fell with balanced breaths. . .

Seriously, fuck these hormones.

Before you could get lost in the roundness of his ass through his jeans, he turned to the counter once more. You flipped back to your original spot on the couch. You decided to

feign any knowledge of him being home, curling into a little ball on the couch and closing your eyes to fake sleep.

When you heard him make a stop at his bedroom and then heard the bathroom door click shut, you stayed wrapped in your cocoon on the couch. And before too long, you felt yourself fading to black, one final tear slipping past your closed lids as Rachel and Ross argued over being on a break.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Initially, you weren’t sure what it was that brought you back from such a deep slumber. But, once you heard him, you knew. The deep, raspy laugh that was slightly muffled through you gaining consciousness.

Why was he in the living room? Was he? Was this your imagination? A taunting dream?

You cracked an eye open the slightest bit to allow some adjustment to the light you’d shut your eyes to. But. . . There was no overhead light. It was off. The room would’ve been pitch black, save for your standing lamp’s yellow glow and the blue light from your TV.

More importantly, the warning feeling of a crick in your neck was suddenly catching your attention. So, without worrying about your company, you quickly sat up to attempt getting more comfortable. You didn’t want to feel awkward around him, but you also didn’t want to deal with a hitch in your neck or a migraine in the morning.

The loud yawn that escaped you once you’d sat up couldn’t be helped. You were slightly embarrassed at the obnoxiously loud noise that emitted from your mouth as you stretched. Blushing, you glanced over at your fellow living room occupant to see if he’d even noticed.

And, of course, he had.

He was staring at you—but. . . not judgmentally. Not at all. In fact, his eyes held the natural, reassuring lightness that occupied your sweetest recent memories. And the small grin on his face. . . was shocking, to say the least.

Why was he acting so okay with you? He’d been so distant recently. . .

You knit your eyebrows together, hyper aware of his presence and needing answers as to why he had decided to sit next to you.

“What are you doing here?” You clipped, tone sharp. You brought your blanket all the way up to your chin and around your shoulders, as a way to protect yourself from the (obviously) harmless man.

Although, you instantly regretted it as his expression became apprehensive rather than open like seconds before.

Why do you have to go and ruin everything, y/n?

He leaned back, his eyebrows furrowed as he balanced a bowl of (. . . macaroni and cheese? Fuck, that looked good.) on his knee, holding onto it with one hand. “I live here, y/n.”

And yet another memory was flashing back to you from the night you got high. . . his breath, hot on your neck, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he said similar words then– your skin flaming now, too. Just the sound of his voice could elicit the most from you. Fuck your pregnant feelings.

Or were they just feelings? The fear came rushing back the moment you thought yourself pregnant. . . was there a baby in there? God, fuck. . . you really didn’t want to sit in this train of thought again.

You figured you might as well use your company to distract you. . . .You missed talking to him anyways–missed it so damn bad.

But your tummy interrupted you. The growl that emitted from it was fucking humiliating, honestly, but it had happened. And after eyeing you curiously for a minute, Jake’s lips turned up with a one breathy laugh, his beautiful pearly whites on full display. God, he was handsome.

“You hungry?” He questioned, lifting his mac and cheese. “I made more of this. It’s just the shit Kraft, but it still hits the spot.”

Nodding, you went to hesitantly get up to get some. You really didn’t want to move from under the security of your warm, cozy blanket.

“No, just wait here,” he insisted, standing. His pajama pants were your favorites (the ones he didn’t normally wear underwear with). But you did not watch his crotch for movement. Your eyes were just staring at the wrong place at the wrong time. Really. “I have to wash my bowl anyway. I’ll put the rest in a bowl for you while I’m up.”

Again, why was he being so fucking nice? But you weren’t about to disagree. You were comfy and hungry and he was offering. It felt like old times and you felt like being momentarily delusional.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed, your eyes shifted, unsure to his face. But he was moving before you could look at him. Back to the kitchen. After a few moments, he was back, handing you a little white bowl with a spoon. The scrumptious, cheesy noodles made your eyes light up. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, responding as though elsewhere. This was weird and you hated how it all felt. But he kept talking, filling the air as he sat a beer on the end table beside him, before sitting back down in the chair. “I had to get a beer anyway. Long day with the guys and May–,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shutting briefly as he shook his head.

Fuck. Thanks, Jake, you thought, your eyes on the verge of welling with tears. The moments of silence, hanging in the air, closing in around you. Not fucking now, hormones.

All you wanted to do was ask why it had been a long day. Get more information that might hurt you. Why did you do that to yourself?

Though, before you could say anything, he continued. Awkwardly, his eyes flashing momentarily to the TV to reset as he spoke. “Long day. I should’ve asked if you wanted one.”

Your cheeks heated. . . little did he know. “I’m good,” you mumbled, looking down at your bowl. Stomach sinking with your thoughts from earlier, you decided to eat before you lost your appetite again. Not the time to be sad. “Thanks though.”

The next few minutes went by in a silence you wanted to stab with a fucking knife. It was seriously unpleasant and sucked ass. After you both laughed at a certain thing Joey said, you figured you might as well try to keep some sort of conversation going. Because, god, you missed him.

“I meant in here, by the way,” you motioned with your head to the space around you, mouth full. (Ladylike.)

His brow raised as he looked from the screen to you, setting his gaze on you. “What are you–?”

“My question. Why you were here,” you embarrassingly restated, hearing how it must’ve sounded. “In the living room. With me. Why you were in here, in the living room, with me, of all places.”

He sat further back, but this time going to sit in the armchair comfortably. His feet propped up on the ottoman across from him. “Well,” he covered his mouth, coughing briefly into his fist. “To be fair– you were sleeping when I came to sit down in here.”

Rather than being unnecessarily hurt over him only wanting to be in the same room as a sleeping version of you, you let yourself give in to the temptation and take advantage of him being distracted by his next task. You missed everything about him. . . even such a simple thing as watching him move.

Pathetic. And, because your mind hated you, it felt like you were watching him move in slow motion.

You watched in a daze as he leaned over to the tall lamp’s attached table, his self-cut gray t-shirt rising up at his hips to show his firm abdomen flex with the stretch. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to watch someone reach for a fucking beer bottle. But, the sight that greeted you next was worse than seeing his side peeking from his shirt. What you saw next were his full, pink lips, wrapping just right around the glass top of his beer bottle as he took a generous sip of his Miller Lite. You admired, mouth open as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each gulp of the beer.

But when he went to repeat his action of leaning over the chair to set the bottle back, you decided to look away so as to save yourself from the torture (or, from the possibility of being caught). You took a bite of the mac and cheese, growing cold in your bowl.

Your heart was already hammering much too erratically from glimpsing these ridiculously mundane motions. . . fuck it all. The heat from being so near to him and watching him settled from your head all the way to the pit of your tummy. You swallowed down your bite thickly.

Your tummy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, awkwardly – you just wanted to have a conversation to get your mind off things. Problem was, you didn’t know where to necessarily start with him these days. . . Work? The band? Maya? God, no. . . gag.

Lucky for you, he took the initiative before you had much longer to overthink it. “I’m glad you woke up, though.” He pulled at his plaid pajama bottoms as he scooted up again, going back to get comfortable on the ottoman. Sitting with his legs spread (dammit), he balanced his elbows on his knees as he reached for his phone in his pocket. “I actually wanted to run something past you.”

God, please don’t say you found a place and you’re moving out. . . you thought, suddenly downcast and dreading what he was about to say. Or that you’re moving out to live with her.

You swallowed the thickness in your throat, trying to alleviate the unwarranted nerves before responding. Dispelling them with food, you took one more bite before swallowing it to talk. “And what’s that?”

So what if he wanted to move out? He damn well could. He surely had the money and you two weren’t involved.

He scrolled for a few more moments, your heart thump-thump-thumping without relenting. . . And finally, he found what he was looking for and before you had time to prepare, his eyes were sinking into yours earnestly.

God. . . what is he about to sa–?

“I found a place for you to get therapy,” he stated, tone soft and careful.

Therapy? Safe to say you were not expecting those words.

And rather than being nervous, your emotions shifted to defensiveness. Where did he get off looking into that for you? Why was he . . .? Was he talking about the promise he’d made in his bed? That same night you’d panicked at your grandparents’? He’d remembered to do that? Why did he even care, still? You didn’t deserve for him to care– didn’t want him to care. It felt uncomfortable.

“Why?” You sharply asked, holding your bowl in stiff hands on your lap.

He leveled you with a look that said ‘cut it out.’ Did he really know where your thoughts were trailing? Was he still that in tune with you? Surely not. He was probably just irritated with your tone of voice. “I told you I would look for you, so I’ve been keeping up my end of the deal. I’ve actually asked a few clients if they knew of any nearby therapists worth their salt,” he peeked back at his phone, scrolling on it when he spoke next. “And there are actually quite a few good ones in the area.”

Your heart still beat harshly in your chest as you felt your skin heat with rage. You set your bowl down on the coffee table. And, the blanket, suddenly suffocating you, was flung off without a thought. “So, what is this? Is this you saying I’m a fucking loony, Jake? I’m sure you’ve been desperate as fucking hell to get me help because you think I’m such a nutcase,” you spit. You sounded dramatic (and, admittedly, like a deranged woman). You knew that. If you were thinking sensibly, you’d know he didn’t believe those things. . . but you were embarrassed that he’d been thinking so hard about this. It hurt your feelings that he thought you needed help that badly. “I’m just so broken and damaged and insane that you’ve decided you need to get a damn shrink to fix me.” Your lap was a sudden magnet for your eyes, your hands entangled on your pajama bottoms. Now, the hot teardrop that hit your interlocked hands was not expected and you swiftly swiped at your cheek. “Thanks for thinking so long and hard and asking God and everybody to find the most qualified person to psychoanalyze the shit out of me,” you sniffled, a couple more tears falling before you willed them away and looked in his eyes. “Thank you so much, Jake.”

But he wasn’t flustered. . . no, he actually sat there and took it. The brow that had raised on his face as you spoke was the only indicator that he’d heard you.

The emotions you were experiencing were big and uncalled for. . . but, you were stressed. Over a lot of things. Doubting a lot of things. Your life seemed like one humongous question mark and you were sleepy as fuck and it was all just catching the fuck up with you.

He cleared his throat, glancing once more at his phone before setting it on the arm of the chair. A tiny smirk ghosted briefly over his lips before they were set in a flat line again as he spoke next. His eyes stayed trained on his own hands, now clasped as well. “Y/n. . . Please. You know I don’t fuckin’ think those things,” he tried quietly, slightly testy, but not harsh. Then his irises found yours once more, making your heart rate speed up. You did know that. . . You knew better. He was right. “You agreed to this. I wouldn’t have made a point to look into this if you hadn’t okayed it,” he stretched his hands out and then combed them through his long, chestnut locks.

His jaw flexed and he eyed you once more, digging into the heart of this before going any deeper. “I don’t want to force it on you. I won’t go any further in this conversation if you don’t want it. This is your decision. You know I looked into therapists. That’s it. You choose where you want this to go and then I’ll either leave you alone or tell you what I found out.”

You felt bit by bit of your current guard break down as you slowly relented. Because, well, you did want to know what he’d found out. Absentmindedly, you glanced down at where you’d subconsciously placed your hands over your stomach. It was habit at this point. That one reason underneath your fingertips was pushing you to know what he’d come to know. If you were, in fact, with child, you were desperate to start therapy. Yeah, sure, you wanted to get help for your sake. . . but more-so the child’s sake. Because, honestly, if you were not with child, you weren’t really sure if you’d want to push yourself to do that– go through all of those intense measures and changes and emotions that you knew only therapy could bring.

There was a ginormous sneaking, sinking suspicion in your gut. The one that was telling you there was a helluva lot more simmering, boiling beneath the surface than you knew. There had to be. For all the blaming you’d put on Jake just now, you knew you were a basket case. And there were some good fucking reasons behind it that you had to get to the bottom of.

You had to do it for your child. And, on the off chance that your worst fears would come to light and you weren’t actually pregnant, it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear Jake out. Listen to what he’d found.

You mumbled your next words. “Do you think I need fixing?” Dear God–where had that vulnerability come from? Did you want to know his answer?

Jake brought a thumb and forefinger up to his chin as he scratched it in contemplation, still measuring you with a long look. “I think it’s more complex than that, y/n,” he breathed a sigh out, as if not sure how to say what he was actually thinking.

And dammit– it hurt for him to not just respond with a simple “no, I don’t think you need fixing.” More complex? What the hell did that even mean?

“Do you think I’m brok–?”

“No,” he sighed. Then, he had your heart leaping into your throat when, in one swift motion, he was standing and walking the ottoman closer to where you sat on the couch. When he plopped down, he didn’t touch you. . . but the closer proximity was enough. The way your eyes naturally flitted momentarily to where his chest steadily rose and fell. You breathed with him. He spoke his next words with a low rasp, eyes serious as they pored into yours. “You are not broken.”

Your heart fluttered, making its way back to its home in your chest. “Okay,” you muttered. You needed to hear him say that– more than you’d ever be comfortable admitting. Finally, you responded to his prior offer. You knew what you wanted. “Tell me what you found out.”

Jake watched you for a few more seconds before leaning back a little, reaching back to grab his phone from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting in. You averted your sight to your hands this time, not watching his movements. Your hands, which were still nestled nonchalantly on your tummy.

“So,” he started. Your gaze flickered up to him, a lazy smile fitting to your face. You watched his lips move as he spoke. Honestly, you hated how safe he felt. It wrapped you up cozier than the blanket that’d been around you moments ago. And the sad reality: you couldn’t wrap yourself up in him. You’d have to take what you could get. “I found this place. About 30 minutes from us. It’s a bit of a lengthy drive, but I figured it was worth it. It’s a clinic that’s very well known by many people around here, I’ve found out.”

“Expensive?”

“Eh. Yeah. Pricier than others,” he clicked his tongue, raised his brow. “But– I asked Josh offhandedly the other day what the insurance was like at the B&G to figure out if it was covered by your–.”

“What do you mean offhandedly?” You nudged, hoping he hadn’t divulged that it was about you. “You didn’t tell him–?”

“No. I just asked him as if I was comparing it to mine at the agency that I teach lessons through,” he reassured. You breathed in relief. He snickered. “I wouldn’t tell him anything about. . .,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from your face to the wall behind your head and then to his phone again. “Anyways. . . they’re covered by your insurance.”

At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter if Josh found out. . . he was about to have a massive bomb dropped on him (by you, of course). But. . . you still didn’t really want him finding anything out from Jake. Didn’t want him hearing anything before you were ready.

“Cool,” you grinned, trying to ease the tension. He opened his mouth to continue, but you stopped him before he could. “Thank you, by the way. For looking into this.”

He looked surprised and you hated that he seemed that way. You should have been more appreciative to begin with. . . this was such a selfless thing for him to do and you’d reacted by getting defensive and snapping. When that was the last thing he deserved. God, you were awful sometimes.

He smiled, wide and close-lipped. “Of course. I told you I would.”

You nodded, looking back to your hands, which you’d let move to your lap. Didn’t want him catching on to you holding your stomach. “What’s the next step?”

“Well,” he began, hesitantly. “I called them for a quote and asked about a specific therapist.”

“Why specific?” You questioned, scrunching your brows.

“That leads into the next part, actually. . .,” he slowly continued, “She’s the only one at their practice that specializes in this unique form of therapy. A type I’ve read and researched on a fuck ton. . . I wanted to find the perfect method for your specific traumatic effects. So, I thought of the dreams. . . how you like control. . . I think it’s the type of therapy you could benefit most from.”

Damn. Way to call you out on your need for control. If anyone knew how much you desired control, though, you figured he did. But. . .now you were even more curious. . . because. . . you were venturing into different types? Wouldn’t just be sitting down with a shrink? What did he have in mind?

“And this type is. . .?”

His eyes light up, excitedly, as if he’s been dying to get to this part. “It’s called EMDR,” he voiced with a tinge of apprehension and elated anticipation. As you mouthed the letters under your breath, he clarified further. “Eye, E. Movement, M. Desensitization, D. And Reprocessing, R.”

You blinked a few times and shook your head. “Okay,” you stated slowly, placing your hands in front of you to indicate he needed to slow down. “What the fuck does all of that mean though?”

“Before I continue, I need you to know: I’ve done a shit ton of research and out of all of it, I’ve become really invested and interested in this type of therapy specifically. . . and for good reason. I’m really hopeful that it will help you,” he emphasized, eyes sincere.

Your tummy did somersaults at how invested he’d become in all of this . . . but your mind stuttered momentarily at the flutter. You couldn’t help but get lost in the thought of a little bean in there and how you hoped to feel little kicks someday (obviously not yet, Jesus Christ), not just Jake-induced butterflies. God, you hoped there was a little thing in there. . .

Jake’s steady, soft voice brought you back to the present and to his face that peered down at his phone, reading carefully. “To put it simply: it’s like a form of hypnosis. A way to force you to remember certain things so you can finally move on and heal from them.”

You blanched at that. “I’m going to be hypnotized?” To say you were second guessing this was a massive understatement. This EMDR shit could take a back seat. You were already apprehensive about getting help–even with the traditional approach. “I’m not down for hyp-fucking-nosis. Hell no. And all for the sake of remembering things I don’t really care to remember in the first place? I don’t think so, Jake,” you shook your head, toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your t-shirt. “I’m already taking a hugeass leap by being willing to go to therapy itself. I don’t need the voodoo shit . . . I’ll settle for the traditional approach,” you paused, not wanting to get too far ahead before showing your thanks. “But. . . thank you for–.”

“No, no. Listen,” he said, laying one hand on your knee for a blip of a second, your mind short-circuited at the touch. He damn sure had your attention now. “It’s different. Yes, you’ll remember things. But . . . well. . . Shit, I don’t know how to explain it in my own words.

“Well, just send me a link and I’ll give it a read and we’ll settle–.”

“Quit,” he sternly said. “Quit saying that you’re going to settle. I don’t want you to settle. I want you to get to the root of this. . . so you can heal. Please. Hear me out,” he pleaded, the hand going back to rest on your knee for a few moments longer than last time before he removed it again. “It's–it’s more than remembering. It’s like— like your mind takes you back to the memory. You’re there all over again, living it a second time.”

“Yeah,” you went to stand up, but he moved with you, showing you he would follow you. So, you stayed put. Dear God, Jacob. “I don’t want to live the shit for a second time. Why the hell would I want to do that?“

“Do you want to fucking heal?” He snapped, his eyes searching yours for any sort of bullshit.

You blinked, “Damn,” you began, a sarcastic, irritated smirk on your face when you shook your head. Could he give you a break, maybe? Shit. But, still, you answered him. And his impatient, waiting eyes. Your answer was a no-brainer for you at this point. “Yes, Jake. I want to fucking heal.”

His jaw flexed as he let out a deep breath, through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. “So, please, y/n. . . just listen to me. Hear me out. You don’t have to do it. I just want you to let me explain it first,” he begged, eyes trained on yours, following every flicker of them. The unsureness you communicated through your gaze was balanced by the overwhelming sureness in his. You nodded for him to continue. He reciprocated the action, continuing with a deep breath in and and a deep breath out. “EMDR allows you to heal by letting you be in charge of your healing. You have the power to leave the situation this time. You’re in control of it now. It’s the past. But you have to face it. . . That’s part of it. . . The cool thing is, though. . . you can control whether you stay or leave a memory; you control how you move on from it.”

Well, goddammit. . . Of course he’d know just what to say to get you to finally listen to him.

Control. That single word finally flicked the lightbulb on in your stubborn, jaded head.

You paused heavily in your opposition, taking note of his far too sincere features. Perhaps he truly was just trying to help you, a sentiment that had always felt utterly foreign to you throughout your life. You’d held all of your guards up so high for so indescribably long. It took a lot for you to dare let anyone in aside from your sister (who, if you had to be honest, simply didn’t have a choice being your own flesh and blood. . .And given the fact that she lived it, too).

But the harsh reality of the matter was, you had let Jake in. Too much. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the moment, you could’ve smirked at the irony of just how much– the possible little life in your tummy, a constant reminder in recent times. And, well, you’d definitely let him in enough that he knew you came with some serious trauma.

You watched him carefully, suddenly beginning to realize that the only reason you’d felt so reluctant to heed his guidance with this bizarre form of therapy. The reason you always doubted him– you couldn’t fathom the fact that he truly wanted to help you.

But, time and again he seemed to prove you wrong. Even after you’d bitched him out to kingdom come in the kitchen months ago. There was no reason for him to want to help you. But here he was. With his research, his beautiful and honest eyes, the phone that he gripped with purpose with explanation after explanation, as if a lifeline. . .

He cared. Whether you could accept it or not. . .it didn’t change the fact that he actually cared.

“I’ll go talk to the therapist,” you finally offered, relenting as much as you could at that moment. “I’ll feel it all out after I talk to her about it. . .,” you leveled, feeling fair in that decision.

And he didn’t question, just shook his head with a lip stuck out. “Yeah, yeah. Totally.”

“How do I schedule the appointment?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next day was spent making strides towards your future. You scheduled the OBGYN appointment as soon as the clinic opened— being as that was the first, major priority. Setting that up had been simple. A date and time. The insurance you’d be using. Then, you’d hung up.

But, as soon as you’d set that up (and felt utter relief at having that panned out), you called the counseling practice Jake had told you about. And, you set up a therapy session with the woman Jake had given you the name of for the day before your first OB appointment. . .

The counseling appointment was set up for the upcoming Monday. . . For some reason, when you’d been on the phone, scheduling for the nearest date available had seemed like the only logical option. But, it hadn’t been as cut and dry as your scheduling for the doctor’s appointment. There’d been a form. They’d informed you that they would email it for you to fill out with some general information (and a picture) before your first appointment. It was slightly daunting, but not totally unexpected, the more you’d thought about it. It was an understandably reasonable precursor to your first session. Just a few minor things to assist in your therapist knowing the most basic things about you before beginning.

Doing it before the OB appointment had also seemed like a good idea. Talking to someone about the newfound worries to help you wade through the days to seeing the obstetrician. . . It seemed like a good plan of action. Made you feel more peace for the whole situation, honestly.

So, that Friday, as you settled into your seat for a stupid ass writing course, you didn’t even care as you felt like other things were on the move. Honestly, at this point, you wanted to say fuck school and your distaste for the major you’d chosen. . . As they didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of it all. Bigger things were about to start happening.

And you could only hope that what awaited you would be positive. . . Positive bigger things ahead.

Bigger things that looked like real healing and a baby with Jake’s eyes.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The couch was leather and a little cold, even through your leggings. . . and the small office-room smelled like essential oils. It was reminiscent of a spa without the ambience music.

The place didn’t need the music, though. . . the oils and general atmosphere were the perfect, calming mixture. . . Well thought out combination of smells and colors to ease the mind.

But no therapist. Not yet. You’d been led by the secretary into a room where you now sat by yourself. She’d offered tea, coffee, and water, with a large, welcoming smile on her freckled face. You couldn’t refuse the offer, so you’d accepted the option of water.

It had been in a bottle, and you clutched it tightly, opened only for the tiniest sip as you let your body relax as much as it could, leaning the slightest bit back into the couch.

And you continued to wait.

You watched the closed wooden door, your eyes wandering every now and then to the artwork that depicted gardens and fresh flowers. . . Some were beautiful paintings, while others were simple little drawings, or even real flowers, pressed in a glass frame.

The walls were tinged with a light sage—the color, oddly easing to the mind.

Then the knob was twisting open, matching the feeling of your nervous tummy. The muscles at the pit of your stomach flexed and flinched at the prospect of the therapist. What was she going to be like? Would she match the cool, relaxing environment of her office? You could only fucking hope. . .

Looking down at your hands to avoid any awkward eye contact, you took note of how badly you needed a manicure. . . damn.

“Y/n?” A reposeful, gentle voice interrupted your nail critique. You looked up to acknowledge your long-awaited company. . . and man, was she completely different from your last therapist. The first thing you noticed was that she was. . . young. Mid-thirties at the very oldest. She was much younger than your aging counselor from the past. How long had she been doing this? “I’m Gianna. But all of my clients and closest friends call me Gia.”

“Gia,” you tried it out, letting a small smile fit to your face. It was a genuine smile– you were relieved. Without even really knowing her, you already felt so at ease with her. She was one of those people–like Elsie or Josh–who just carried a naturally empathetic, calming air. Made you feel like you were standing in the breeze on a warm spring day. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hair, naturally dark, but dyed beautifully to be a blonde-gray, was up in a styled messy bun. Lips, painted in the most beautiful naturally red tint. . . and the round, wire-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose complimented her soft features so incredibly well. The freckles on her pale face, visible through the circular frames. Her cheeks were tinged with a perfectly rosy blush, and they swelled with your greeting.

She adjusted her loose, beige overalls over her off-white, long-sleeved mock neck. The overalls were the fabric ones that’d gone viral (which helped you to note how incredibly trendy she was, if you hadn’t already been able to guess that). She inhaled and exhaled easily, her lips quirking even more than before. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” she repeated back to you. “I’m sorry it took me a bit to make my entrance. I like to give my people some time to adjust to the space before they’re bombarded with all of the therapy stuff. It’s an important thing to me.” Then her leg was being bent to balance her white, platform converse on the seat of her pale pink rolling chair. “Before we begin. . . I also need you to know that my office has a completely open door policy. If, at any moment, you start feeling uncomfortable, please let me know and you may leave to take a break, or simply leave the practice to adjust your thoughts before the next session. Won’t charge you for the whole time or anything. . .,” she added the last part, surely as another financially conscientious adult. “I just know that sometimes this shit gets tough–baring all of it and having to get through it. . . it’s rarely easy, and I want to be able to foster a healthy, resting environment for you as you wade through all of it.”

“Wow,” you blinked, your heart warm in your chest as you let yourself sink a little further into the couch, shoulders loosening just a bit. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

Winking, she brought the mug up to her lips that she’d carried in with her. After taking a sip, she sat it on her desk and then wrapped both arms around her bent leg. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me and my profession before we begin?”

You pondered that, always having questions swirling in your head. “Just general things,” you snorted, playing it off. “Stupid, basic shit that I don’t need answered.”

“Nothing is stupid in here, sweets,” she said firmly, her eyes communicating more than the words she’d said. “Sometimes misguided and confused, yes, but never stupid.” She used the foot on the ground to swing the chair from side to side, ever-so-slightly. “Sooo, shoot. Ask anything you’d like–basic or not.”

Blinking at her again, you let your grip on your water bottle ease up. “Oh, um,” you quietly began. You scrambled for the right words. “Well, I guess I was wondering how long you’ve been doing this?”

She giggled. “Oh, sure. . . I’ve been practicing for about five years. Administered EMDR for the past two or so. . .” Her cheeks were still rosy with a gentle smile when she spoke next. “I will ask, though. . . did you not check out the website prior to this?”

Fuck. You hadn’t thought to do that. That was strange. . . usually you’d jump at the chance of looking into anything and everything before diving head first into something. Especially something as serious as a life-changing thing like therapy and the person you’d be inevitably baring your soul to. What in the fuck? Why hadn’t you thought to do that?

“I– um,” you searched her eyes, as if they held your answer. “I didn’t. Which is strange for me.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” she said, grabbing her mug from her desk again. But before taking a sip, she continued. “I just noted on your form that you like having control over the things that transpire in your life. And checking the website to do some solid research seems like just the way to do that.” She took a sip, humming as she took it away from her full lips. “But there’s my thoughts going to crazy places based primarily on black and white principles. And we’re definitely not here to do that,” she shook her body as if shaking it off, putting her leg down and nestling her mug between her hands. “I don’t look at shit in black and white. That’s something that, as your therapist, I need you to know. There’s a lot of healing properties found in the gray.”

You couldn’t explain it, but the last sentence left you feeling this overwhelming sense of hope and understanding. Without even knowing you, she seemed to get the fact that you came with a lot of fuckin’ gray. All kinds of shades of the color. Had you been that transparent on your form? Not able to remember it, you just pushed it to the side as you figured it didn’t really matter. Because even if you had been open on the form, you were about to get much more transparent.

“Thank you,” was all you said, the water bottle held in loose hands as you comfortably crossed your legs. “My life has left me pretty fucking gray, so that’s a relief.”

“There’s beauty in the gray, love,” she noted, leaning forward as if engaging even further in the conversation (as if she wasn’t already remarkably with-it). She held her tea steady in her hands, and you couldn’t help but look down at the mug to see what it looked like. And, of course, it was covered in pale flowers, just like her office. “I’m down for any more questions you may have.”

“Family?”

“Just a fiancé, but other than her, I’m pretty estranged from much more family. Boundaries are a specialty of mine, and I’ve had to set a few in my life,” she said, assured and confident. “No kids yet. We aren’t quite sure if we want them or not.”

You nodded. But, you were not able to hold back the wetness that gathered in your eyes. The tears settled at your ducts and if you blinked, you knew they’d fall. The way you were feeling at the moment was unexplainable. So many things at once. But, most importantly, you were thankful. Thankful for people like Gia. The woman exuded peace and you weren’t sure why you’d ever questioned trying therapy again when there were women like her in this profession.

“Thank you,” you said again, as if you were a manufactured robot. Then you shook your head, embarrassed at your currently tiny vocabulary. “I’m sorry I keep saying that. I’m just grateful there’s people like you in this world.”

Wow. Okay. So we’re getting real honest and sentimental now, huh? A good-humored voice asked you. Here for it.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said quietly, respecting the new emotions in the room. “Are you ready to tell me a bit about you?”

Letting the tears fall with a blink, you wiped at them with a breathy laugh. She grabbed the nearest tissue box and handed it to you. You wiped under your eyes and dabbed at your cheeks. “Chose to not wear makeup for a reason,” you chuckled, internally thanking past-you. She laughed with you, placing the Kleenex on the couch next to you for proper access, then sat back, balancing her elbows on her thighs as she held her face up with open palms.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said once you’d settled. “We’ve got the next hour and a half.”

“How much do you wanna know?” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed your locked hands over your tummy. “I’m a basket case.”

Her eyes sparkled. “As much as you’re willing to tell me,” she affirmed with a wink behind her glasses. “I’m all ears.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, as you left that day, you were absolutely confident in saying Gia knew about as much of your life as Elsie did. And that was saying something.

She’d just been so receptive, and had kept encouraging you– as you cried and laughed and sighed and growled. She kept reminding you that she wanted to ‘hear as much as you’d give her’. That she was ‘in your corner’ and that she was ‘there for you.’ And her words and kind eyes were enough to spur you on. Continue to the point of her knowing nearly everything there was to know about your life.

From your childhood to now, Gia was now totally knowledgeable in the realm of Y/n.

Thankfully, there’d been no EMDR, as she informed you that next session you’d begin talking about the intricacies of the practice and whether or not you wanted to begin with it the session after your next. She wanted to take time to adjust and ‘simply be’ before introducing the innovative method of therapy.

She’d given a couple of tidbits about it, just for you to think about before the next session, but not too much, since the next session was dedicated to her actually breaking it down for you.

“Now, before you leave, I want you to know that we can locate your safe place next time. The place in your mind where you’ll return when you need a breath of fresh air amidst the memories,” she’d offered, hands in her pockets, tea cup abandoned as you stood up alongside her to follow her out of the office. But before you two left the office space, she took the time to assure you once more. “But only if that is what you decide you want. This is your life, sweets, and I’m just here to help you through it.”

And, for the eighty-millionth time that day, you’d told her ‘thank you.’ You were going to take a bit of time to consider it.

She’d also given you a few nuggets of wisdom.

They’d specifically followed the end of your session, when you’d broken down about the unsureness of your pregnancy (but easily applied to the rest of your messy ass life).

One thing she said to do: “Slow down your thoughts. Do not let them take control. Slow them down and figure them out with what you know. Piece by piece, break them down before they get too astronomically crazy.”

Another being: “Let yourself feel peace. Just every once in a while, let yourself feel it and don’t let guilt eat you alive for it.” (When you’d laughed sarcastically, she’d nodded, agreeing that it was “most definitely easier said than done.”)

She had been wonderful at assuring you that it was most definitely a product of your trauma to react so preposterously. How you thought certain decisions and thoughts might give you peace, yet always resulted in the opposite. But, she’d also told you that you’d “figure it out bit by bit” as you move along and to “give yourself grace” as you navigate it all on your own, in your day-to-day life.

But, there was one singular, specific piece of advice she’d offered that was sticking out more than much else.

Of course, you’d filled her in all the way up to your appointment tomorrow and Elsie’s idea for Josh to attend with you. You wanted her opinion on it, asking for as much, and she’d been firm in her opinion. Her words rang in your head as you navigated the late afternoon New York traffic on your way back home.

“Your sister is a genius,” she’d said astonishingly, blowing out a breath from between her naturally full lips. “Everything she said is exactly what I’d tell you, too, sweets. And if it helps to hear this, even as an outside party, Josh sounds like the type of person to receive it in a non-traumatizing manner. He will, most definitely, be sensitive to your feelings. And, having him there will help you feel less alone and calm in your worries. . . and it will help him feel needed–like Elsie said. So, truly, it’s a win-win. If I had my way, I’d make sure Josh is there tomorrow. But, again, it’s your life and it’s up to you.”

“How do I even ask, though?” You asked pathetically, pulling your sleeves down over your hands as you began to get nervous at the prospect.

“Take a deep breath,” she calmly recited (as she’d done a time or two during your life lament). After doing it with you, she settled you with an understanding gaze. “Just text him. Tell him you have an important appointment tomorrow and that you need him there with you.”

“And if he asks what it’s for?”

“I’d say you tell him that you’ll tell him when you see him or when you get there,” she advised. “But, I don’t think he’s the type of person to question when you’re being vulnerable like that. I’d bet you he just agrees to it, no questions asked– if he’s free, that is,” she winked.

So, with her sitting there, you’d texted him and asked exactly what she’d told you to. The thing about having an “important appointment.”

And even though he hadn’t responded, you tried to not overthink it as you calmed down from telling your entire life story to your therapist.

When you’d pulled into the apartment complex, your stomach sank at the sight that greeted you. Your space was awaiting you, but Jake’s, next to yours, was empty. Per usual these days, his new purchase of a used car was not at home at the same time as you. Really, you’d gotten used to his lack of presence. But it always made you sadder than you wanted to admit. Because, well, you knew if he wasn’t at the studio or some rehearsal, he was most likely with Maya (you were awfully glad he didn’t bring her around the apartment too much, but still. . .your mind went crazy at the other prospects of what they were doing).

But today, it was worse. You were sad for more than your assumptions about his whereabouts. Today, you desperately wanted to tell him thank you– wanted to fill him in on how it had gone so great. But he wasn’t there. Because you’d pushed him away (something that Gia told you you’d ‘navigate the reasoning for’).

So, as you trudged up the steps, instead of walking in to tell Jake, you just took time to relax as much as you could. And you figured a good way to do that was to give yourself a long ‘everything shower,’ with your most favorite R&B playlist playing as background noise.

And when you’d gotten out, the screen that you opened your phone to was something that brought a swarm of anxiously joyous butterflies. Under his name, there was a ‘Yes, of course!’ from Josh. And below his text, was a notification for your next appointment with Gia. One week from today.

Everything would be okay. It would. You recited this as you responded to him, deciding to try your best not to think of telling him until you absolutely had to tomorrow, after hitting send with a simple ‘thank you :)’.

You kept reciting that everything would ‘be okay’ as you put a hand to the firm little bump, growing steadily at the bottom of your tummy. And you contemplated as much as you were willing to, without reducing yourself to any more tears (you’d cried enough already for one day). Because now all you were going to be plagued with for the next several hours until your OB appointment was whether there was actually a baby in your growing belly.

You then ate a giant salad (everything else you wanted to eat had made you feel nauseous as hell), as you’d watched Friends. Your thoughts were subdued, but still spiraled a tad. . .though, you took Gia’s advice and tried to slow them down to navigate each one with what you genuinely knew. There was nothing telling you that you weren’t with child besides your own convoluted mess of negative thought. More signs were pointing to that you still were. One piece of truth keeping you going was your growing belly. And even though bellies could still grow after miscarriage or in the case of hysterical pregnancy, the probability of that being your situation was very, very slim. Right?

You knew that.

Before too long, you were standing in front of your vanity, braiding your wet hair and laying down to find rest much easier than many nights in recent times. . . the only thing that kept you up for a bit longer than you wanted was wondering why Jake hadn’t come home yet.

But, again, you knew it was none of your fucking business.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next afternoon had you waiting outside of your apartment as soon as Josh said he was about five minutes away. Your apartment had started to feel absolutely insufferable, closing in around you as your mind went crazy with scenarios.

The autumn day was lovely, sun shining, but warmer today than it’d been yet this season. With no breeze. And, the lack of breeze was not aiding in your already-sweaty palms, wet with nerves. Or your upset stomach—your current nausea induced by your anxiety more than the (hopeful) baby in your tummy.

Your stomach was fucking rolling as you waited for Josh to pull up to the complex.

Dramatic as it may have sounded, you felt as if you were on the verge of a heatstroke when he eventually showed up in his little car, which was literally squeaking and creaking as it sat still. The exhaust emitted from the back of the car was enough to make you feel like you were actually going to blow chunks, and you instantly decided you could not ride thirty minutes to the clinic in his little hunk of metal.

Sending a quick text, you made up an excuse to take your car. To emphasize the text, you went ahead and started walking to your Jetta, parked in its usual spot.

You, 11:49 p.m.: I need to get gas… Can we take my car?

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Of course.

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Are you ready?

You smiled, looking over to where he was still parked in his visitor space. His eyebrows crinkled in concentration to the device in his hand as he watched the screen, waiting for you to respond.

You, 11:51 p.m.: Yes, Joshua. I’m at my car and staring right at you.

As soon as he got the text, you waited for what you knew was coming. He looked up from his phone, through his windshield, and at you with a giant grin painted across his features. It didn’t take him long to get out of his car, lightly jogging as he came over to you.

“You creep,” he smiled, slightly out of breath. “Peeking through my windows.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach started aching, yet again, at the prospect of what you were about to tell him. Honestly, at this point, you were just ready to get it over. The longer you kept it to yourself, the more you were worrying about it and his possible reaction. And the sooner you could just tell him, you’d see his honest, real reaction. . . and then you could deal with the rest from there.

It also helped that his girlfriend and your certified therapist thought that it would go okay. They were the practical thinkers in this situation, whereas you were an overthinker to the highest degree. And, if you could just get it out–just fucking tell him–you could (hopefully) validate their predictions of how the situation would play out.

“Am I driving or are you?” He asked, bringing your thoughts back to the present.

To current Josh. Josh who didn’t know anything yet. Completely ignorant Josh. . . fuck. The last moments of keeping him in the dark.

“You,” was all you said before you unlocked the car and made your way to the passenger side. Once you were both inside, you handed him the keys as he started the engine.

Your stomach fucking dropped as he backed out of the space. . . what was about to come out would literally change you and Josh forever.

Would it be for good? Would it be for bad? If he was going to be mad at you, how long would he stay that way?

You couldn’t be upset with him if he got angry. For everything. Like distracting Jake when Josh had specifically told you he didn’t want that for his twin. Or for simply keeping this giant ass secret from him about it all. The more you thought about it, you thought that perhaps the reason you were so scared was because of how completely validated he would be if he did end up being pissed as hell with you. . .

But. . . you just couldn’t stand losing him. Especially at such a time as this. . . you needed him.

And that’s why you just needed to fucking tell him. It was inevitable for him to find out, and the sooner it was out, the sooner you weren’t lying to him anymore. Because that’s exactly what you’d been doing. You’d been fucking lying. For months. To your best friend.

“So,” he began, excited–the complete opposite of how you were feeling. “Where are we going?”

Plugging your phone into the CarPlay, you turned off Siri’s voice before you did anything since you didn’t want her blurting out your destination before you were ready to tell him. Once she was silenced, you pulled up the directions to the clinic you’d carefully chosen.

You sat back slowly after entering it, your stomach spinning as your thoughts went insane and your nerves continued to set on white-hot fire.

You spared a glance over at him through your lashes to see him looking out the corner of his eye at you, coming up to a stoplight. The look he was giving you made you sure that your face was morphed to show utter terror and worry. “What’s wrong, mama?”

Fuck. You turned to face the front again and squeezed your eyes shut at the nickname, bringing two clenched, sweaty fists up to your eyes as your skin began to feel like it was quite actually peeling off of you in nervous jitters. Your eyes couldn’t stand being squeezed shut any longer as you felt the tears forming behind your lids.

He continued driving, but with the occasional nervous glance in your direction.

Then, he laid a comforting palm on your shoulder, his thumb soothing circles over your arm.

And, once he’d done that, it was no longer in your control to keep the tears at bay. You tried to fight them back, but it was to no avail.

So, there you were, face becoming drenched in tears as you couldn’t stop sputtering little sobs.

In your peripheral, you saw Josh looking at you as he came to one last light before the highway, face surely painted with distress. “Y/n?” He checked, careful and concerned. “I’m sorry if I said some–.”

And what came out of your mouth next was not at all expected. But, it blurted through your lips with zero fucking warning. You did not know which part of your brain had decided to communicate with your mouth to say it.

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed.

The car lurched to a stop, cars honking furiously behind you at Josh’s abrupt action. Your stomach, already thick with nerves, couldn’t handle it. You quickly slapped an open palm over your mouth to conceal any projectile vomiting. Thankfully none came, but you had to clench your eyes shut once again as Josh made a wide, sloppy U-turn off of the street that was leading to the highway.

And when he’d finally come to a stop again, you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled the car over into the nearest McDonald’s.

Focusing too hard on trying not to vomit helped you to stop the outrageous weeping for a few minutes. You finally peeled the hand from your mouth as you took several deep breaths, in and out, to calm yourself and your stomach.

Before you even knew what was happening, Josh was getting out, running to the door of the establishment. You watched in the mirror to your right as he simultaneously got his wallet out of his back pocket.

Choosing not to worry about it, you shut your eyes once more to ease your tummy. But it did not help and you felt the puke coming in just enough time to unlock your door, open it, and puke all over a piece of the yellow line that boxed the car into its space.

You groaned as you leaned back up into the car and into your seat, letting your hair fall from the impromptu ponytail that you were holding at the back of your neck. Popping open the glovebox, you grabbed a few napkins to wipe your face (these days, between the incessant crying and vomiting, you were fucking constantly thanking God for the years-accumulated collection).

And then the driver’s side door was opening once more, this time Josh’s khakis making the first appearance as he climbed back in. He had two cups, one balanced between his bicep, clad in a white, long-sleeved tee and his chest and one in his hand. He quickly placed both in the center cup holders and popped a straw in each.

Your brows lifted, wondering. “What did you–?”

“Sprite,” he pointed to the one at the front. “And water,” the one in the second holder.

“How did you–?”

“There’s a part of my brain permanently cemented with what it was like to watch my mom be pregnant with Sammy,” he explained, eyes soft with a smile gracing his handsome features. “I was too young to remember watching her pregnancy with Ron, but Sammy. . . he’s always been tough–even in the fuckin’ womb.”

You gave a small giggle, stomach spinning when your hand went to grab the Sprite. The carbonation sounded perfect, and Sprite had been a go-to in a few cases of your recent nausea.

The cool drink had been just what you’d needed, sighing as soon as you brought the straw away from your lips with the first sip. You kept it clutched in your hands as a lifeline when you looked at Josh next, eyes wet. “Thank you, Joshy,” you croaked, tone exuding gratefulness.

“Yeah, always,” he affirmed, his eyebrows dipped in. The next few minutes were spent in silence, your thoughts finally quieted a little with the initial confession to him. You took a few quiet sips of your drink, the sound of you swallowing the loudest sound in the small car.

Knowing he most likely wasn’t wanting to pressure you to talk, you took the initiative. “I–I’m sorry for not– I’m–,” you choked, shaking your head. The tears were beginning to gather once fucking more. Yet, even with eyes wet and throat tight, you persevered. You had to get the rest of it said before you continued to the appointment–you were going to be late if you didn’t get going soon. And you weren’t about to tell him the rest afterwards. “I have to tell you the rest.”

His jaw clenched in preparation for it as he nodded, his body turning to better face you for what was left. “Lay it on me.”

You gulped, mimicking his movement so you could see him better. Your throat was so tight it nearly suffocated you with nerves. “The–the father,” you started, looking into the eyes that looked so eerily similar to his brother’s. Very much like the ones you hoped your baby would wind up having–yet, not entirely the same. “Do you want to know?”

Of course you’ll want to, you thought at your ridiculous question. And I’m going to tell you anyway, but I’m stalling like a pussy.

His lips quirked, but only the slightest, tiniest bit. “Only if you want to tell me.”

I have to.

“I–I do,” you said, your eyes darting down to your hands which wrung at your waist, itching to touch your tummy. So, you did, settling them on the small bump. And instantly, you felt better. You were beginning to find it slightly crazy what one simple touch could do.

Choosing to watch your hands lace at your tummy instead of him, you took the last jump with two words. “It’s Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i promise you won't be waiting a month for Josh's reaction ;) see you very, very soon <3

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