#very committed one too but the doctor uh brought her back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluemusickid · 3 years

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Hi! I hope you're doing well 🥰 Can you I request one where Steve breaks reader's arm or leg by mistake during training and has to take care of her afterwards? Definitely won't mind if some smut is added 😅 Thank you!!

OMFGGGG MY FAV WRITER SENT AN ASK ASDFGHJKL (Also full disclosure: this has been one of my kinks for a while :P)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slow burn (just a tad), 18+, SMUTTTT, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), did I mention NSFW? Read at your own risk.

A/N: I would like to thank @imdarkinme for sending in this AMAZING ask! She’s a doll and I’ve been a fan of her writing for so long!! I would also like to thank @donutloverxo for converting me to a Steve Stan loool. I wanted him to be a bit dark here, but in the end his dorky side won. :P Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!! Send in your requests here and you can join my taglist here (or you could just send an ask lmao)! Thanks!

I post my stuff only on AO3 and here, nowhere else.

The Learning Curve

You groaned as you got up from the mat, yet again. It was dumb of you to ask Captain Rogers to train with you. As a new recruit, you’d obviously wanted to impress him; he was the leader of the Avengers after all. There was only one tiny problem you forgot to factor in: the man was a Super Soldier, while you were...not.

“Come on, get up! We still have two rounds to go!” a voice bellowed from above you.

You mentally cursed at the voice. You’d tried to not let it affect you, but like many others, you had a bit of a crush on the Captain. But it wasn’t solely because of his looks, it was more about his passion to help and save and to protect. He was always so passionate, it was hard to keep away(which was a fiercely guarded secret). You felt like Icarus, when you were with him.

Getting up, you tried to block his punches, while getting in a few yourself. It was impossible, the man was a champ. You saw your opening, however, when he seemed to be distracted by someone approaching him from behind you. Seeing this as a golden opportunity to catch him off guard, you threw a punch aiming for his face. Unfortunately, he blocked the punch and pushed you, to ward you off. It seemed as if he too, forgot that he was a Super Soldier, pushing you a bit too hard.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, twisting to save your face, your arm breaking your fall. Your suspicions were confirmed as you tried to move your arm but couldn’t. Steve heard you yelp and rushed to your side, carefully inspecting your injured appendage. You squealed as he touched your arm, the pain indescribable. Steve whispered his apologies a million times, trying to haul you up by your waist, in vain. Finally, he gave up and picked you up bridal style, like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, partially out of pain, but mostly out of surprise at the sudden move.

“Umm...Cap..tain..I..can..walk..” you stuttered, unable to keep the pain out of your voice.

He looked into your eyes and smiled, shaking his head. Oh dear lord. This man truly was gorgeous. Nearing the MedBay, he slowly placed you on the bed, his mouth tantalisingly close to yours as he lowered you onto the surface. You never realised how blue his eyes were, which at the moment were filled to the brim with anxiety and some other emotion; which you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Deciding you were probably delirious from the pain, you tried to focus on what the doctor was telling you.

“...so you’ll have to be on constant bedrest for the next two weeks before we can check again to see if you need a rod put in.”

“Err, I’m sorry doc, what?” you mumbled apologetically, embarrassed by your thoughts.

“As I was telling Captain Rogers, you seem to have a hairline fracture in your ulna, which could require support. You need to rest and take it easy for at least two weeks. Training will have to be put on hold, and I suggest you call a family member to take care of you in the meantime.” the doctor said, scribbling notes.

“Oh, that..won’t be necessary. I can do stuff on my own, I’ll be very careful.” you said with a grimace, not wanting to seem weaker in front of Steve.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Steve said, firmly. “She’ll stay in my quarters. It’s the least I can do after breaking her arm.”

You stared at him, a million things going through your head. You and him, in the confines of a room, alone. Oh no. This was going to be torturous in more way than one.

“Oh no no no, Captain. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t like to impose. Plus, I’m feeling better already! I’m sure it’s more than manageable. Please..I..I’ll be okay, really.” you rushed, pretty sure that your voice was betraying just how fast your heart was beating.

Steve smirked. “This isn’t up for debate. Plus, I’m sure it would be easier for the others to check up on you when we’re away on missions.” he said, taking the prescription from the doctor.

You winced as he helped you up from the bed, the warmth of his hand making you hyperaware about what your life was gonna be like for 2 weeks. You sighed. It was gonna be a loooong two weeks.

-------

You realised after a week that your worries had all been for naught. Steve was an excellent caretaker. He made sure you took all your medicines at the right time, ate properly and rested enough. He was also a thorough gentleman, always calling a lady nurse when you needed to take a shower or get dressed; really respected your boundaries. But you couldn’t deny the shift in his behaviour towards you. At first, you felt like you were reading into it too much, but then it started to get more noticeable. They were little things, but it meant so much. He would insist on having lunch with you, no matter if you were quiet or chatty; Steve always was there. He brought your favourite blanket from your chambers to make sure you felt more comfortable. At night, he would make sure you were comfortable, get you hot chocolate, maybe even sit next to you till you fell asleep. One time, he held your hand till you drifted off; but you were sure that you felt him leave a small peck on your cheek as you nodded off.

If you weren’t falling for him earlier, you sure as hell were now.

------

After hitting the two week mark, you went to the doctor again for a checkup. All seemed well, there was no need for a rod to be put in but the cast would have to stay on. Steve was there throughout the appointment, listening intently at everything the doctor said with his full focus. It was quite distracting and kinda hot, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him periodically. On one occasion, he caught your eye and grinned, catching you in the act. You wished the ground would swallow you up just then: this man fully well knew that you had a crush on him and was enjoying messing with you.

You nearly gasped as you felt his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the lift. Something was different today. Steve seemed buoyant, which was very out of character for him.

“The nurse isn’t available today, she had some prior commitments. If it’s ok with you, I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” he said, softly. You gulped, his tone messing with your train of thought.

“Uh, that’s ok, I can manage things for a night. I’ve already imposed on you quite a bit and don’t want to create more of a hassle.”

Steve smiled. “Sweetheart, you’ve not been a hassle, trust me. It felt nice having you around, I enjoy your companionship. Just a few weeks more and you can get rid of me.” he said, with a mischievous grin. You groaned inwardly; this man was driving you nuts.

“Oh no, I really liked staying with you. You’re great company! I don’t think I want to get rid of you, ha.” you said in a flourish, mentally cursing yourself for being such a blabbering fool around him.

Steve looked at you, his eyes darkening. He stepped closer to you, opening his mouth to say something, but the elevator seemed to sense the tension rife in the air and opened at that exact moment. You both snapped out of the haze you were in with Steve beckoning you to his quarters, his hand resting softly on your back.

Back in your room, you realised you needed to take your nightly shower. You were about to call for the nurse, when you remembered that she wasn’t gonna come. Shit. You’d have to call Steve to help with your sling. Closing your eyes, you sighed before you walked to his room, praying to God that you would get through this. Just go in, get the brace off, and get out, you whispered to yourself. With that mantra in mind, you hesitantly knocked on his door. A muffled ‘come in’ reached you, and you timidly entered the lion’s den.

Steve was tinkering with the laptop, clearly engrossed in some work. You felt guilty disturbing him, but it was kind of an emergency.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I..just needed some help with my sling; I tried to take it off, but it’s not coming off. Can you..unfasten it? I’ll be out of your hair in no time..”

Wordlessly, Steve sauntered over to you, turning you around to face the wall. Softly, his fingers undid the clasp of the sling, pulling the straps off your neck, his fingers grazing over your skin gently. You jerked, surprised by the small currents you felt with these small touches. Turning you around, he helped you take your arm out of the sling, his hands accidentally brushing the sides of your breasts. You didn’t dare make eye contact with him; you were sure you would say or do something you would regret later on.

“All done.” he whispered, his eyes not leaving yours. You realised he was merely inches away from your lips; the proximity driving you crazy.

“Thanks.” you mumbled, wanting to run out of the room.

“Are you going to bed? Do you need anything to drink?”

“Yes, I was just gonna head to bed after my shower.”

“You can shower here. I’d be able to keep an eye on you then and you won’t have to worry about any mishaps. See? Win-win.” he said with a grin.

You were about to decline his offer but stopped when he held up his hand. “You need to stop thinking that you’re a burden on me. I like doing things for you, it makes me feel like I’m not totally alone. These two weeks have undoubtedly been one of the best weeks in my life. I like you, and I know you like me. I just want to show you how much I care for you in my own, peculiar ways.” he said, taking your hand in his, drawing patterns on your knuckles softly.

Your mind raced with all the information. You never knew Steve felt this way, he was always so taciturn. Your gaze flitted to his face, his eyes darkening the way they did in the morning. He didn’t need words to convey what his eyes said; he felt the same way you did about him.

You melted as he raised your hand to his lips, placing a kiss which felt like petals grazing your skin. Leaning down, his lips inched closer to yours, his breath tickling your face.

“Tell me if I should stop, and I will.” he whispered.

You waited a beat before making your decision. Raising your lips to his, you touched his lips slightly before murmuring, “don’t stop.”

And that was it. You were lost in the maelstrom of emotions that was Steve kissing you. It started off sweet, with Steve engulfing your lips within his, taking his time to make sure you were enjoying. It turned heated the moment you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tugging on it. Steve ran his tongue over you, begging for entrance. You moaned and opened your mouth, prompting him to unite his tongue with yours, as if to memorise every inch of you. You broke apart, the need for air greater than your desire.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, placing you on it carefully. Being extremely careful, he pulled off your tee, eyes widening as he took in your bare chest. Kneeling in front of you, he took off your sweatpants and your underwear, leaving soft but searing kisses at every inch of skin he exposed. You sharply inhaled, already feeling yourself get wet even though he hadn’t even touched you properly.

Lowering you to the bed tenderly, he made sure your arm was resting comfortably, placing a pillow underneath the appendage. Placing his hand next to your head, he kissed you deeply, pouring every emotion he felt into that kiss. You moaned as you felt his lips trail lower, leaving kisses along your neck, laving your pulse point. Moving lower, he kissed your breasts, leaving small bites along the way. Taking a swollen nub in his mouth, he sucked on it while massaging the other, prompting you to groan and run your uninjured hand through his hair, wanting him inside you.

While he moved his attention to your other breast, he trailed his fingers down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He finally reached his destination, his fingers soft against your wet nether region.

“Steve, please..I need you..” you whispered in urgency. His intrepid fingers found your swollen nub and circled; gently at first, and then with more intensity. Moving lower, his digits swirled around your wet lips, before plunging into your tight channel. You gasped as he began thrusting, his knuckles bumping along your front wall, hitting your sweet spot. You had to refrain from arching your back, instead relegating to pulling his head down for a kiss. He increased his speed, adding another finger once he sensed how close you were. You shrieked as you reached your peak, breaking apart from the kiss.

As you opened your eyes, recovering from your orgasm, you saw Steve look at you, an unspoken question in his deep blue eyes. You nodded, cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his soft, soft skin. You don’t know what power he wielded over you, but it didn’t matter. You had no qualms being caught in this spell he wove.

Shedding his clothes, he returned to his place, widening your spread legs with his torso. Sitting back on his heels, he took in your body, his gaze running over every curve, every stretch mark, every beauty spot on your body. Taking his hard member in his hand, he gave a few strokes before lowering himself, running his nose against yours. He ran his tip along your wet folds before plunging into you in one swift move. You gasped and closed your eyes, your head falling back against the pillow. He gave you time to adjust to his size, your walls snug against him. After a moment, he began moving, careful to not move your arm. He started off slow, making sure you felt every inch of him. You hooked your legs around his hips, urging him to move faster. He took the hint, his pace increasing with each thrust. The coil in your belly was tightening and you could feel yourself hurtling towards completion for the second time. Running your hand along his back, your hand made it’s way to his ass, pushing down, begging him for more. Steve held himself up, looking deeply into your eyes, as he sped up his thrusts. You could feel him within you, each thrust hitting your weak spot over and over again.

You screamed his name as you reached your peak, your legs tightening around him; wrapping yourself around him like a vine. He was close too, his thrusts now becoming frantic as he was chasing his end. Your walls contracting around him set off his orgasm as he moaned, spilling every last drop of himself inside you. You both panted, as he dropped his head on your chest, trying to catch his breath. You both stayed like that for a while as you ran your fingers through his scalp, enjoying the feel of his weight on yours.

There were many things to talk about, sure.

But for now, this was more than enough.

-----

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @worksby-d @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @chris-butt @ozarkthedog

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

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Oh damn. Your drabble "Drowning" has given me IDEAS....

I can just see hero managing to stop villain from killing Supervillain, but Supervillain still being injured/ getting pneumonia from the water in his lungs... and how awkward it would be for hero to take care of someone who'd just tried to drown her.

This idea is fantastic! I hope that this was an ask to do it. If not, I apologize, but this was just such a great idea!

May get a little sad at the end (spoiler alert)

Drowning Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: concussion, CPR, death/killing mentions, descriptions of how someone was going to kill another (never acted upon), classic sick and delirious whumpee, sedatives mention, descriptions of medical setting and practices, mentions of loved ones death, pills (tylenol), hallucinations

Villain grabbed the knife, his fingers clutching the hilt until they glowed white. Supervillain was breathing heavily, yet he was still unconscious- lips parted and blue.

Hero also moved forward, her legs tensed and ready to pounce. The scene registered in her mind very quickly. The knife, the villain, and the heaving supervillain... blood and then the inevitable stop of breath.

It didn't have to be inevitable.

Hero rushed forward, grabbing a metal rod, and landed the blow directly to Villain's temple. He faltered, letting go of the knife and collapsing into Hero's awaiting arms.

"M Hhh," he breathed, bleeding head lolling in the crease of Hero's elbow. His eyes shifted from focused to unfocused in a matter of seconds, only to fluctuate back. Here flipped out her phone and called her medic.

"Hero! You alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Get to Supervillain's base. It's empty. Villain has a bad concussion, he's not entirely lucid right now..."

"Oh uh, um... I'm on my way." The line clicked.

Hero laid Villain against the wall, cupping his heavy head for a moment before tending to the unmoving supervillain. He wasn't breathing.

Hero quickly felt for a pulse and upon finding a soft thump-thump, she tilted his head to the side. Water immediately gushed out of his nose and mouth. He sputtered a little bit, but never woke.

Hero pressed her lips against Supervillain's after rolling his head back to the center. She breathed into his mouth four times, checked to see if he began to breathe. No.

She continued this. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... until the supervillain gasped for breath, choking and coughing out water and mucus.

Supervillain jerked himself forward, glancing at Hero to Villain and then back at Hero.

"H-" another coughing fit with more water. He started to gag, dry-heaving until tears spiked his eyes and nausea rose in his throat. When he was done, he scrambled to his feet and tumbled towards the open door to his base.

Hero returned to Villain's side and scooped her friend up. Medic wasn't there, so she decided to take him herself. Caressing his head, gently, she followed Supervillain outside and to her base.

The next day, Hero was walking along a sidewalk on her way home from visiting Villain in the hospital. It was a nice day, a great change from her near-death experience with Supervillain the day prior... Hero shuddered, trying not to think of the agonizingly cold water, the darkness lapping at her vision, knocking Villain out... the whole ordeal.

Knocking Villain out... Hero replayed the conversation she just had with her very ungrateful ex-frenenemy (apparently?). The half-dazed cusses and just plain rudeness from the bedridden patient were more than enough to make her feel annoyed. She saved Villain from committing an act that would have surely land him in jail- if not a mental facility. Especially the way the concussed villain talked about killing Supervillain. Apparently, Villain was going to slowly kill him with the knife, decorating major body parts with cuts and blood.

Hero sighed. That sadistic little turd that couldn't just walk away-

A groan.

Hero looked up to find herself walking in front of an alleyway. It was dark, if that's not a little too cliche, and eerily quite. Not even a stray cat knocked over a garbage can like in every classical alleyway scene.

Hero entered the alley stealthily, opening her holster and lying her hand over her gun. She looked behind every dumpster and every cardboard box. Finding nothing, she proceeded to leave, but two hands grabbed her mouth and throat.

Being yanked backwards sent a spark of adrenaline through Hero's veins. She turned and thrashed, but her attacker was unrelenting.

"Let me go!" Hero yelled when a large hand slipped away from her mouth. The other hand went away too. Pulling her gun out, Hero spun around, only to have a fist meet her face.

The impact startled her, but not as much as the body leaning heavily against her's.

The body heaved and gasped, heat radiating off its skin. Hero looked down and took in the features. She couldn't see a face, but it was obviously a guy. Hero dragged the man over to the only bare spot against the brick wall and leaned him aaginst it. She began to step away, only to realize that his head was resting against her shoulder.

"Hey," Hero mumured and grabbed the man's cheeks, holding him up, examining his face...

Hero nearly dropped the pale face.

It was Supervillain.

Also known as the man who tried to kill her.

Hero, for a brief second of primitive logic, contemplated leaving the feverish man to deal with himself. But guilt, and maybe a twinge of annoyance, drove her the complete opposite direction.

After all, she didn't just save him and give Villain a concussion only for him to die, right?

Yet as she scooped her attacker up, two portions of her brain- her sensible part and her empathetic part- played tug-of-war with each other. Drop him, bring him home, drop him, bring him home...

Of course the empathetic clump of cells won and she bridal-carried the shivering supervillain to her apartment.

She set Supervillain on her beige couch with a blanket strewn over his lap. He just had a cold right? She brought him some tylenol and a glass of water.

"Hey," she said softly, almost a whisper. Supervillain seemed so disconnected that she was afraid that she would startle him. His eyes were glassy and had an abnormal, faraway look.

Supervillain didn't reply, or look at Hero. His gaze was fixated on a corner of the living room.

Then, like a bomb suddenly going off, he started to cough.

He coughed until blood, water and mucus gushed from his mouth. He hacked it up like a waterfall. Hero stood up, linked her hands under his shoulders and hauled him into a better sitting position.

He coughed until he was sobbing, screaming. He fell back against the cushions, sputtering and crying, with tears streaming down his face. Each breath seemed to be a workout- shaky and shallow. He never made eye contact with Hero. Just stared ahead, coughing and crying.

"Are you okay?" Hero asked, loudly, but she still doubted the sick supervillain heard her. She placed a hand against his back, rubbing circles. It was just a cold- she was certain.

But he was so hot.

So unnaturally hot.

Hero frowned and went to grab a thermometer. She placed it against Supervillain's lips, but he didn't open them.

"Come on now," she coaxed gingerly and rubbed his flushed cheeks. She sighed. She didn't even need to know the temperature to know that the sick man infront of her had a fever.

Supervillain parted his mouth open and allowed the pointed metal edge to find a home under his tongue. He tried to move it around, but his resolve was too weak. Hero held it there until it beeped. 102.9

102.9 degrees fahrenheit. Nearly 103 degrees...

"Oh gosh," Hero exclaimed and dumped a couple tablets out of the tylenol bottle. She coaxed them onto Supervillain's bacteria-lidden tongue and pressed the glass of water against his bottom lip.

"Drink," she whispered. Supervillain obeyed and took a sip just big enough to force the pills down.

"Good job," she praised and lowered Supervillain down. Only for him to start coughing again.

"Take it easy, honey," she murmured. Honey? Where did that come from? Come on Hero, she scolded herself. The guy just tried to drown you the other day; you don't have to make this even more awkward or embarrassing.

Supervillain leaned into her. His firey body nearly made Hero begin to sweat. His eyelids drooped, breaths slowed, and soon he was alseep in her arms.

Hero knelt there by the armrest, alone with her intense thoughts. She rubbed his moist hair, allowing her nails to scratch at his scalp. Even alseep, she hoped it gave some comfort.

Not that he exactly deserved comfort. Villain was in a hospital bed, sleeping off sedatives and painkillers greedily and dealing with a major concussion. She thought of the grim night the doctors and her shared. Restraining a delirious villain, the MRI, all the tests... and then finally given the clear to inject a moderate sedative dose to help him sleep.

But Hero still gave the undeserved comfort. Maybe she was too empathetic, too caring and generous for her own good, but that matter could be taken care of another day.

Supervillain awoke a few hours later to Hero'd strawberry smelling hair resting against the top of his head. Her arms dangled across his chest as if she was giving him a hug from behind. She fell alseep mid-hug.

Of course, the supervillain did not register this interaction as that. He imagined it more as encompassing tendrils of ivy tying him down to a foreign object. He squirmed, trying to break free of Mother Nature's restraints, but he was too sick, too weak, and too helpless to do much more than move around.

Hero then woke up also, pulling her arms- the so-called vines- off the terrified supervillain's body.

"Good morning," she yawned and pressed a hand against her ward's forehead. Supervillain didn't seem to know what to do. He wavered between pushing forward into the hand- or the frustratingly threatening boulder to him- or pulling away. He chose the later, jerking away only to send a rush of mind reeling dizziness through his head.

He swayed, or he thought he did for he was still lying against the couch as if a magnetic force attached him to it. Reaching out weakly to grab Hero's hands, he closed his eyes.

"You are so sick," Hero cooed, her voice a mixture of both anxiety and tranquility. Supervillain gripped her tighter and tried to pull himself up to her.

"Shh, shh," Hero whispered. "Sleep."

Supervillain seemed like he nodded. Or was it due to him loosening up as he fell asleep again? Hero didn't know, nor cared.

She stood up and laid a blanket over Supervillain before heading into the kitchen to make a bland chicken soup and a small bowl of rice.

After the meal was done, about thirty minutes later, Hero returned to Supervillain on the couch with a portable plastic table and the food. She propped the still sleeping man into a sitting position before awakening him.

Supervillain blearily opened his eyes, blinked, and settled his gaze on Hero's eyes. He twitched his head upwards, but that was all. Hero didn't even think he noticed the steaming food on the table beside him.

"Want to eat?" She asked, more to herself than anyone. Supervillain looked at her with those wide, brown eyes like he did right before he attempted to drown her.

"Mnh," Supervillain groaned. "M chest hurts."

"Your chest hurts?"

"Mhm."

Hero tentatively lifted his shirt, but the feverish man didn't seem to care, or realize the possible intimate gesture.

"Let's take this off, shall we?"

Supervillain nodded, which made Hero nervous. Why was he being so compliant?

Nevertheless, she striped his shirt off and examined his ribcage. She had him take a couple deep breaths, but the movement seemed to exhaust him further. His ribs seemed a bit swollen, but nothing was broken.

Then a horrid realization dawned on her.

He had pneumonia. Most likely due to the water still festering in his lungs.

"Ooookay," Hero breathed. She would deal with that later, maybe call Medic- no, no one could know that she was housing the Man of Terrors- but first she had to get some food into Supervillain's stomach.

So she spooned, mouthful by mouthful into Supervillain's parched mouth slowly. She cleaned any broth dripping down his chin with a washcloth.

After he finished eating, Supervillain was so exhausted that he nearly fell alseep with his neck bent awkwardly. Hero readjusted him to a laying position, but elevated him slightly to ease his ragged breathing.

Pneumonia.

That would explain the harsh breathing and the daunting fever. Gosh, was he sick and so sudden too. Hero sat next to Supervillain, rubbing his hair back from his sweaty forehead like a caretaker.

Even though it was awkward, given the circumstances and past events, Hero stayed with him all night. Easing his pain, feeding him small bits of rice and soup, taking off blankets and putting them back on, wet washcloths and fans. Sometimes she would doze off on his chest, but never for long.

Whatever connection and trust built up between the two that night was unbelievable. Extraordinary, even. But still, nothing, not even with the newfound relationship, prepared Hero for the one simple and innocent yet insanely heartbreaking word that sickly Supervillain uttered.

"Mother?" He squeaked, looking up at Hero with eyes so full of love and relief that they looked about to burst. Hero felt her heart break, shattered to a million pieces as her guest extended his hand to her face.

"Am I in heaven?" He asked in such a childish manner. He looked around, but frowned at his surroundings. "Mother? You're dead right? Am I dead too?" The previous chirpy voice lowered to Supervillain's desolate montone.

Hero didn't know what to say, for Supervillain gazed at her with all the intent he could physically muster.

She could give into the hallucination and play along, but guilt would eat her alive. But, she thought it rude to just blatantly say, "No. You're mother is dead. It's me, Hero."

Supervillain whimpered, chin trembling as he began to cry. Hero winced, but then realized:

She said those words outloud and now she had a grieving, delirious, and sick supervillain to tend to. Great, just great.

#villain whumpee #supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #tw death mention #sick whumpee #pneumonia #writing #heros and villains #feverish whumpee #feverish villain #hero x supervillain #maybe?#delirious whumpee

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checked-windows · 3 years

Text

I WOULD PICK YOU TILL THE END.

Aaron hotchner x gn reader

Notes: reader doesn't have any pronouns so should fit anyone

Warnings : none. A kiss (maybe)

"I love you" Aaron whispered as you moved around the apartment packing your things. "I love you too" you responded equally as quiet, only pausing your movements for a brief second "But I can't do this anymore Aaron. I'm not going to make you decide who you want because I know you and I know you'll try to make everyone happy but yourself. I'm taking the choice away from you. Goodbye Aaron"

You left his apartment steeling every muscle in your body to not turn back around and ask him who he wanted, beg him to want you. But you kept walking away, from the apartment, from that life, from Aaron.

8 years later

The BAU had decided that this unsub was in their lists of worst people known to man. They were breaking into houses with families and slowly picking them off one by one starting with the children finishing with the fathers. They had been called in by the Situational Counter Unit or the SCU, who had caught the case and were the ones diving in headfirst into crime scenes and bringing in suspects. However, they had admitted to needing help narrowing down a list or well creating a list, just trying to find someone to get it to stop as their "ask questions later" policy was starting to get them heat. It didn't even seem like the SCU Unit Chief had called them in, it was their section teeth who had claimed they would be happy to let the BAU lead the investigation. Possibly.

The BAU arrived at the building to a group rushing back and forth with files and notes seemingly trying to collate all of their evidence into one place while trying not to bowl each other over. A tall bald man spotted them and waved them over.

"You must be the Behavioural Analyst Unit" he greeted "Welcome to 'The Den', I'm Agent Leo Monroe. Let's get you settled in the conference room away from all this noise" He directed them up to a windowless room hidden away from prying eyes soon enough three more people followed, two more men and a woman.

"Agents Martin James, Lucy Hay and Kyle Brennan. The chief is running late claims to be stuck in traffic but will be here soon. I hope" Leo said with a small smile that showed he was used to this sort of thing and files were handed out to each of them. Occasionally Leo's phone would chime and he'd snicker at whatever the messages were. You finally arrived almost 20 minutes later, sweating and ready to commit a felon.

"Sorry I'm late. Got stuck behind a truck that clearly had no idea where it was going, debated slashing his tires so that he at least had a reason to be driving a quarter of the speed limit" you fumed as you breezed into the room, throwing a black jacket over the back of a chair and dropping into it. You glanced around quickly not taking in any infeomation before ducking your head into a file only for your eyes to shooting back up to the unfamiliar faces. And the one familiar one. That you hoped you'd never see again.

"Ah you must be the BAU, they told me you were coming" you did try and keep the dispair out of your voice but you kept glancing back to Aaron who looked like he had seen a ghost. Aaron himself hadn't been expecting you to be here. He hadn't expected you to have cut your hair to the length it was now or for your eyes to have hardened as much as they had over the year. He hadn't expected the wave of emotions to hit him so hard that he almost fell over.

There was more very brief introductions before you shook said man's hand.

"(y/n) (l/n), Unit Chief" you greeted and watched his eyes take you, every change and reading your body language before you spun and started spewing details of this case that you knew, trying to ignore how you felt seeing him once more and what bubbled up in your heart.

"(y/n), it's good to see you" Aaron said when the room had cleared of agents from both teams.

"Uh, it's good to see you too" you tried to sound confident and sure of yourself but ended up mentally slapping yourself for sounding unsure "Would've been better on nicer circumstances but beggers can't be choosers"

"Your right" he responded and you saw his Adams apple bob when he swallowed "So Unit Chief huh? What happened to 'fuck the police'?"

"Oh don't start" you said with a laugh and his lips quirked slightly "People change"

"That they do" he agreed nodding.

"So how've you been? How's Haley?" you asked moving the folder on the table almost missing how he winced.

"Ups and downs. Haley died a couple years back." his said quietly and your head shot up. You and Haley had never gotten along but you'd never had wished her any ill.

"Jesus Aaron." you breathed and gripped his shoulder comfortingly "I'm sorry for your loss"

He smiled sadly at you and in that moment you realised exactly how much Aaron had loved her. Yes he may had loved you but he had loved her more, it made sense.

You were dragged away almost physically by Lucy who was trying to show you a connection she and Doctor Reid had made with the unsubs drop off points but your mind wasn't in it. You had nodded and sent them with Agent Morgan and Prentiss to see if they could find anything else out from the scenes themselves. You had retreated to your office just to take a small breather, even as you sat at your desk you were eyeing the small cabinet at the opposite side of the room. It was like it was dragging you towards it as you inched forward and unlocked it, pulling the small box out. Photos of you and Aaron spilled out when you had opened it, keeping it here was supposed to keep the need to look at them away but clearly your brain had other plans especially when memories bubbled to the surface.

Dates, adventures, visiting him in hospital because he got hurt again. First times. Last times.

Everything flooded through your mind leaving you sitting on the carpeted floor, tears filling your eyes. You had missed him, when you had said you had loved him you meant it but even after so many years seeing him brought fresh waves of affection and love into your heart. You decided to put on your Unit Chief face and squash every single emotion down so that it didn't bother you. There was time to cry after this case.

As it turned out their was time to cry during the case too. As you realised almost 20 hours later running on no sleep, terrible coffee and spite. The words on paper, screens and boards were floating and spiralling in on each other making it impossible to read and if Aaron tried to tell you what to do one more time you were going to shoot him and you didn't care about the repercussions.

"You should-" he started after following you into your office.

"Do not tell me what to do Aaron Hotchner" you growled before he could even finish his sentence, a finger pointed at his face. He rolled his eyes which seemed to irritate you more than it should have.

"I'm not telling you what to do, I'm offering a suggestion" he grumbled and you weren't sure if it was the lack of sleep, the pent up emotions or something else entirely but you exploded.

"Get the hell out of my office!" you basically screamed at him and he took a step back before turning towards the door.

"Make a change from you walking out" he hissed lowly and you wanted to hit him.

"I walked out to help you" you shouted slamming your hands onto your wooden desk causing him to turn back to you.

"I didn't need the help, you didn't even give me a choice. You took that choice away from me" he shouted back and briefly your brain supplied that this was very unprofessional and that everyone in the office could definitely hear what was taking place in your office.

"I knew you were going to pick her. I'm not an idiot Aaron. A fool yes. But not an idiot" you yelled hands landing on your desk again. Only softer this time. "I took that choice from you because I knew you and I knew Haley was your everything. I. I was a placeholder until your issues worked themselves out"

"You had no idea what was going on! It was nothing like that" he hissed as if he had realised that everyone was listening it. You pushed away from the desk, taking in the hard lines on his face and the set of his shoulders. You huffed as you swing the door open.

"I knew exactly what it was. I knew exactly how you felt about her. You married her didn't you? I knew everything Aaron. That's why I took the choice away from you, because I wanted you to be happy even if it wasn't with me. You loved Haley, you should have been with her" you said quietly, all the fight had left your body as you stepped out of the office squaring your own shoulders and walking past both teams to the door.

"Chief" Leo called out and you turned your head to face him, catching Aaron's stunned face still in your office.

"I'm going home. I suggest everyone gets some rest. Home. Hotel. Break room. I don't care" you said slowly and continued your mission to get to your car without any more damage. You got the the parking garage before realising that you didn't have your bag, which meant that you didn't have your keys. You sighed and threw your head back trying to stem the tears building in your eyes.

"Here" a voice came from behind you and you sighed again. You kept watching the ceiling, refusing to look at him "(y/n)"

Your resolve crumbled in front of his eyes, as your shoulders slumped and you slowly turned to face him. He had your bag in one hand and a small almost comforting smile on his face. You took the bag from him with a small "Thanks" he nodded turning back towards one of the SUV's that the BAU were travelling in and you had to force yourself into your own car to not call for him.

The case continued quickly after the breakdown, you avoided Aaron like the plague and in turn he didn't try to speak to you about anything other than the case on the odd occasion you ended up in the same room together together. No blood had been shed in the final meeting with the unsub. Luckily the man had given up fairly quickly and had allowed himself to be handcuffed without much of a fight.

You sat in your office, head resting on your hands after greeting farewell to the BAU and sending your own agents home for a well earned couple days off. You were ignoring the piles of paperwork that had began to accumulate with every ounce of willpower you possessed.

"(y/n), are you OK?" Aaron's voiced echoed into the small room and you groaned into your palms. He chuckled slightly which cause you to look up at him with a frown.

"Why are you here Aaron?" you asked, none of the fight from the past few days was left and you resigned to just leaning on the desk.

"I could ask you the same question" he asked and you sighed "I was hoping we could have a talk before I left, clear what ever this has been up"

"Aaron. I'm sorry, just forget about it" you said taking a deep breath "Emotions were high and I hadn't slept. I didnt mean it"

"No. You did, but that's ok" he responded sitting on the chair opposite "You were right. I would have tried to make everyone happy even if it meant I wasn't. You knew that. You knew how I felt about Haley but you never knew how I felt about you. You left me with one option and most would say that I couldn't have loved you both at the same time but I did. I loved you both equally."

"Aaron you seriously don't have to" you try but he was holding up a hand to silence you.

"I would have picked you (y/n)" he said quickly at the end "I would have always picked you"

Your eyes snapped up to meet his and you huffed a small disbelieving laugh at him. You weren't sure what had happened really one minute you had been sitting opposite on another, the next you were pressed against his front pressing your lips against his. Aaron's hand cupped the back of your head and he pulled you closer with his other hand on your waist.

"I would still pick you" he mumbled against your lips before you were pressing them together once more.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #criminal minds fanfiction

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hookedonapirate · 2 years

Text

A Date for the Holidays (and everyday too would be nice)

Summary: Tired of the constant backlash from her family about being single, Emma finds herself striking an arrangement with a roguishly handsome stranger at the mall the day after Christmas. Now she won’t have to be alone for the holidays. Emma and Killian agree to be each other’s dates, no strings attached, no commitment, no pressure. Just two friends getting together to appease her annoying family and get his brother off his back. It’s the perfect setup really...until sticking to the holidays isn’t enough. What happens when they both want more?

Holidate AU

A/N: So I watched the Holidate the other night and couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun it would be to turn this into a CS fic. So here we are. This probably won’t be too long, I’ll be getting back to my wips soon, just needed a break, but probably 4 or 5 chapters or so. Hope you enjoy! Thank you to the ladies on Discord for your encouragement and enabling ;-)

Thank you to the lovely @veryverynotgood for beta reading!

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 // FF.N

Chapter 9

Halloween

“Stop eating all the chocolate! You’re gonna be sick!”

Emma groans, shoving another mini-sized candy bar into her mouth as Elsa ties the laces of her black leather corset so tightly she’s sure her cousin’s trying to kill her.

“Get ready and suck!” Elsa pulls tight again and turns them toward the bed. Emma reaches out her hands, holding herself up as she bends over the bed, allowing Elsa to trap her in this torture device.

“I am so excited!” Anna says giddily with a grin as she plops down on the bed. “This is my first adult party since the kids!”

“Are you sad Kristoff isn’t coming?” Emma asks curiously.

Anna shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s only one night. He’s taking the kids trick-or-treating.”

“Okay, ready? Suck.” When Emma does what she’s told, Elsa pulls a little too hard on the laces.

“Oh, Jesus!” Emma shoots up, holding her stomach. “When did Halloween go from dressing up like a princess,” she pants and pushes up her breasts higher in the corset, “to dressing up like a whore?” She especially feels slutty considering her cousins’ very modest costumes. Elsa is Queen Victoria and Anna is dressed as her half-sister, Princess Feodora.

“I don’t know, sixth grade?” Elsa guesses.

“What’s a whore?” Daisy asks from where she’s sitting on her aunt and uncle’s bed with her cousin, Arya.

Anna’s mouth falls open, her eyes wide as she tries to explain. “Uh, somebody who gets paid to play with boys.”

Arya perks up. “I wanna be a whore!”

Daisy nods excitedly. “Me too!”

“Okay. Just remember, the house gets fifty percent,” Elsa jokes to her daughter.

Anna claps a hand over her mouth, trying not to burst into laughter as the kids frown at her in confusion.

When Elsa finishes with the corset, Emma sighs in relief and goes over to check out her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’s wearing a bar wench costume, which includes a white, off-the-shoulder top with long, flare sleeves, a choker around her neck and a high-cut bustle skirt, showing off the black fishnet stockings on her legs and knee-high leather boots.

“This is what I get for putting Killian in charge of costumes,” Emma grumbles as she tries to adjust her corset. Her top is very low cut and shows off a little too much cleavage for her liking, so the best she can do is hoist them up to make them look more appealing.

Why did she let Killian talk her into this?

🎃🎃🎃

Fog floats through the room and All the Rage by Allie X blasts from the speakers as Emma and her cousins make their way through the crowd of gyrating bodies all dressed in costumes.

Emma rolls her eyes at her aunt Ruby, who brought Graham as her holidate. She’s dressed as a nurse, and he’s dressed as a doctor. Like seriously, what kind of douchebag dresses as their actual profession for Halloween?

Suspecting where Killian might be, Emma heads toward the bar, and sure enough, he’s already downing a glass of rum with Liam.

Holy hell.

When Killian said he was dressing as Captain Hook, she was expecting breeches, a red jacket, a permed wig and curly mustache. But he's wearing neither of those. His jacket and pants are made of black leather, there’s a hoop in his ear, which looks so fucking hot on him, and he’s wearing a red vest and white dress shirt, exposing a provocative amount of chest hair. He also has a tricorn hat on his head, but it doesn’t have a feather sticking out of it.

He’s the sexiest version of Captain Hook she’s ever seen.

“Ahoy, Captain,” Emma greets, approaching the two brothers, her cousins following behind.

She no longer cringes when she sees Liam since he’d sincerely apologized to her last month, saying he was just looking out for his brother. He admitted he wrongly pointed a finger at her for the Fourth of July fiasco, and she had forgiven him.

Killian turns toward her, his jaw dropping as his eyes scroll up and down her form.

“That’s Captains,” Liam corrects, emphasizing the ‘s’.

Emma arches a brow, taking in his navy-blue uniform and ridiculous bicorn hat. “What are you supposed to be, Cap’n Crunch?”

Liam rolls his eyes and Killian chuckles. “Ha ha, funny lass. I’m a British naval captain.”

“Glad to see your costume fits…” Killian notices thoughtfully, making a show of admiring Emma’s wench costume with a big smirk as he gestures toward her with the fake hook on his hand before finishing his compliment, “perfectly.”

“Yeah, well, try telling that to my spleen,” she groans, adjusting her corset for the millionth time.

“Your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear,” he says with a wink and a crooked smirk.

Her cheeks heat, and a smile tugs at her lips before she realizes they’re staring at each other. She shakes herself out of the daze she’s in and introduces her cousins to Killian’s brother. “Liam, this is my cousin, Elsa, and her sister, Anna. This is Killian’s brother, Liam.”

Liam already has his eyes on Elsa as he removes his hat and bows like she’s an actual queen. “Greetings, Your Majesty.” He takes her hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Elsa blushes and smiles, pressing her free hand to her chest. “You can just call me Elsa.”

“Any queen in particular?” he asks, eyeing the crown on her head.

“Queen Victoria.” She turns toward Anna. “And this is her half-sister, Princess Feodora.”

He tries to kiss Anna’s hand like he did Elsa’s, but she shakes her head and steps back as though he’s trying to kiss her on the lips. “No, thank you. I’m married.” She gently pushes Elsa forward. “But my sister here is very much single,” she makes sure to inform Liam with a big grin.

Elsa turns her head to scold her sister in disapproval before Anna excuses herself and heads through the crowd.

Liam chuckles awkwardly, his cheeks red as his eyes return to Elsa. “It’s nice to meet you, lass.”

“Likewise. You seem nothing like the self-righteous asshole Emma described you as,” Elsa points out deliberately.

Apology clouds his face as he looks at Emma. “Well, she wasn’t wrong. I was very much a dick.”

“But he apologized,” Emma reminds her.

He looks at Elsa again and scratches behind his ear, the same nervous tick Killian has. “So, um, would you care to dance with this self-righteous arse?” he asks nervously, sticking out his hand.

Elsa laughs, slipping her palm in his. “Sure why not?”

After Liam and Elsa walk away, Killian returns his gaze to Emma. “Drink?”

“Immediately.”

🎃🎃🎃

“Great party, Audrey,” Emma compliments when they finally cross paths with the host.

She gives her an Are you seriously kidding me? look. “It’s a complete disaster! Who fills a place with this much dry ice?”

“But it’s fun,” Killian comments, trying to look on the bright side, “And scary and…” he gestures at her shiny gold dress when he’s at a loss for more adjectives to adequately describe the party decorations. “I love your costume.”

“I’m so embarrassed!” Audrey grumbles, looking down at her outfit. “We’re supposed to be Beauty and the Beast.”

Leo comes up behind her, shouting, “Happy Halloween, party people!”

Emma furrows her brows as she scans her brother’s costume. He doesn’t look like any beast she’s ever seen before. He's dressed in black and is wrapped in what appears to be a burrito shell. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Uh, a taco. Duh!” He points between him and Audrey. “Taco Bell, get it?”

Audrey shakes her head in frustration. “No, I’m Belle, not a bell.”

Killian chuckles. “Just look at it this way—you could just pass it off as a funny pun.”

Emma scans the room as she takes a sip of her third Haunted Orchard Cocktail. Unlike her mocktails on the Fourth, there’s nothing virgin about her drink, as it has tequila and hard cider. And either she’s had a little too much to drink or her ex and his girlfriend are heading toward her. She gasps and whips around to glare at her brother. “You invited Neal?!”

“I wasn’t in charge of the guest list,” he grumbles at Audrey.

His fiancé shrugs. “I didn’t invite him. I invited Tamara. We went to high school together. How was I supposed to know she’s dating your ex?”

Emma furrows her brows at Audrey. “Wait, you two went to high school together?”

“Yeah, she was in the same class as me.”

Emma’s face pales. Oh, God. If Audrey’s twenty, that means…Tamara’s even younger than she thought.

Emma wants to crawl into a hole and hide, but before she gets the chance to run away, Neal and Tamara are already in front of her.

“Happy Halloween!” Neal greets, wrapping his arm around Tamara.

“I love the slutty costume!” the woman says with a big grin. She and Neal are dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, and Emma can’t help but notice the very round, very prominent, close-to-bursting belly underneath her green dress.

“Thank you…I like yours too.” Emma gestures toward what she hopes to be a fake pregnant belly as part of her costume. “I mean, that fake belly’s incredible. You look really, really pregnant,” she laughs, trying to shove down the hatred and disgust she feels for her ex.

“Not fake,” Tamara corrects, looking over at Neal.

Emma’s eyes widen in horror, and suddenly, she can’t breathe, the corset seeming to press even tighter around her ribcage.

That bastard got her pregnant?!

“Due in two days.”

“I just couldn’t keep her at home,” Neal says with a chuckle.

Tamara shakes her head and swats his chest. “I already told you, baby, this kid’s not gonna change our lives.”

Anna bursts out laughing from behind Emma, which surprises her because she didn’t know her cousin was standing there. “That’s adorable.”

Tamara smiles skittishly, obviously not understanding what’s so funny. “Thank you.”

“Wow…” Emma’s still trying to process this, her mind spinning. “Pregnant…” She turns to look at her cousin, laughing, even though she’s dying inside. “She’s pregnant!”

Anna nods. “I know. She’s adorable. Wanna get another drink?” she asks, ushering Emma away.

“Congrats,” Emma calls out to the expecting parents as she walks past them, still in complete disbelief. “Congrat-u-lations. I am so happy for you! Wow!”

Anna drags her to the bar so she doesn’t make any more of a fool of herself than she already has.

Emma spins around, throwing her hands up in the air. “She’s fucking pregnant?! How is this even possible?! She’s my brother’s age?!”

Anna orders them some cocktails and hands her one. “Here, drink this.”

Emma accepts, guzzling it down like it’s water and then slamming the empty glass on the bar top.

“You need another drink,” Anna suggests.

Emma shakes her head. “Oh God, I don’t feel so good,” she groans, clutching her stomach. She’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the room is spinning and she feels queasy. “I really don’t feel well. I’ve had about fifty mini-size candy bars, four Haunted Orchards and my ex-boyfriend has impregnated someone fifteen years younger than him!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Anna says, rubbing her back as Emma grips the bar counter.

Killian comes up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, love?”

“No! I am not okay!” she snaps, spinning toward him. “This is what I get for letting you trap me in this torture device!” She tugs at her corset again, trying to make it feel less tight as Anna and Killian both eye her in concern.

“Do you want me to take you home?” her cousin asks.

Emma nods, but before Anna can respond, Killian offers, sensing she didn’t actually want to leave yet. “I can take her.”

“I-I can,” she assures as Killian wraps his arm around Emma and leads her away. “I can. It’s just...I mean, if you’re volunteering.”

“It’s fine.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Emma mumbles, feeling bad for taking him away from the party.

“Holidate rule number three—leave no holidate behind, remember?” Killian calls an Uber, and when they arrive at her place, he climbs out of the car and turns around to help her out. “Come on, love.”

Emma grabs her clutch and literally crawls out, feeling too tipsy and nauseous to stand on her own two feet. “Just leave me here,” she pleads, not wanting Killian to have to take care of her.

“Nope.” Killian shakes his head and kneels down to help Emma up. “We’re gonna go.”

“Please leave me!”

“No need. I’ve carried beer kegs much heavier than you.” Before Emma can even wonder what he means by that, he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, carrying Emma inside her apartment building. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Emma groans, feeling too drunk and miserable to protest any further as Killian carries her to the elevator before finally setting her down on her feet and pressing the button.

Emma braces her back against the wall so she doesn’t fall over. She can’t believe she let that asshole, Neal, affect her this much. She was doing fine until she met his girlfriend in February at the candy store. Tamara was certainly not pregnant back then, and now she’s about to pop out a baby?!

Wait.

February?

“Oh my god!” she cries out when realization washes over her. “It’s Halloween!”

Killian furrows his brows, his voice full of confusion when he raises his hook. “Hence the costumes.”

She counts on her fingers, reciting the months between February and October. Yep, just as she suspected. “They did it on Valentine’s Day!” she screams, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Everyone did it on Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t do it on Valentine’s Day!”

“Neither did I,” Killian recalls as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

“They barely even knew each other when they started procreating!”

“I know, love, he’s a wanker,” Killian says as he helps Emma into the elevator.

She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing!”

“Trust me, I’ve seen much worse.” he tries to assure her, rubbing her back as Emma presses the button to her floor.

“How could this get worse?!” She can feel the bile rising in her throat as the elevator ascends. At first, she thinks she’s just imagining it because she’s thinking about Neal with Tamara and the age gap between them and how sick it makes her. She’s also had so much chocolate and alcohol, it’s affecting her brain, along with her stomach.

Her eyes widen when she realizes she’s about to vomit. She feels a stab of pain in her stomach, and she claps a hand over her mouth when she starts to gag, trying to force it all down. Suddenly feeling very warm, she tries to pull her top away from her skin to cool down, but then she’s rudely reminded she’s still in this goddamn corset. And she doubts it will give way when she has to puke her guts out.

“Untie me,” she says quietly, her face paling.

Killian stares at her in confusion as she shuffles over, turning her back toward him and trying to reach for the laces of her corset. “What?”

“No questions! Just untie me!”

“Okay…” Killian grabs her waist, pulling her toward him before he reaches for the laces, trying to do as he’s told. Quickly realizing the hook just gets in the way, he hangs it on his belt and tries with two free hands. “What is all this?”

“Hurry!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying.”

Another pain shoots through her stomach, and Emma knows she doesn’t have much time. “You know what, just rip it.” She hops around, trying to tug at the fabric, but it won’t budge. Killian keeps close behind her, trying desperately to untie the laces, but not having any luck. “Just rip it.” She braces against the rail as Killian starts pulling on the corset, trying to tear it off her as she moves her hips toward him. “Rip it. Just fucking rip it off!” she shrieks as the elevator doors slide open, revealing an elderly couple staring at them in horror. But she can certainly understand why. Killian’s standing behind her, trying to pull off her clothes as she’s bent over the elevator rail.

Thankfully, the doors close before the couple can step in.

As soon as the elevator reaches her floor, Emma scrambles out, Killian hot on her heels, working on the laces again.

“You’re locked up like Houdini in this thing!”

“This is all your fault!” Emma cries out as she frantically makes her way down the hall, digging through her purse for her keys.

“Almost got it!” Killian assures after he’s finally able to loosen the laces.

They stumble into the apartment, Emma falling over, Killian still latching on to her from behind, trying to get the pesky corset off. While Emma’s in a very compromising position and he’s trying to take her clothes off—something she’s thought about a hundred times since she met him—this wasn’t exactly how she envisioned this moment.

She finally reaches the bathroom and pushes the door open, vomit rising from her throat.

“I got it!” Killian cheers, holding up the corset in success as she slams the door shut, not wanting him to see her like this.

She bolts for the toilet, but before she can reach it, her stomach is convulsing, vomit is spewing out of her mouth and she’s slipping onto the floor with a scream. “Oh, no!”

“Did you make it?” Killian asks through the door, his voice full of concern.

“Go...away! Go away!”

🎃🎃🎃

Emma has never felt so humiliated or mortified in her entire life as she sits in the back corner of her bathtub, tightly hugging her knees, her hair pulled into a messy bun. To think, she started off the night as a sexy bar wench and now she’s naked, cold and covered in puke, the runny mascara making her look like a raccoon. And to top things off, she had to tell Killian, the most gorgeous man she’s ever met, that she slipped in a puddle of her own vomit. Now he’s holding the showerhead over her back, gently rinsing the vomit off of her.

This night couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Don’t look at me,” she groans, but not because she doesn’t want him to see her naked. She just doesn’t want him to see her at her very worst. She feels pathetic.

“I’m not looking.”

She glances over her shoulder to see if he’s telling the truth. Sure enough, he’s looking in the other direction with the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he shakes his head, making her smile too, despite the situation.

Once she’s clean and in much more comfortable clothes than that god-awful corset, Emma slips into bed and removes the hair tie, letting her long wavy hair fall loose around her shoulders.

Hearing a knock on her door, she looks up to see Killian slowly walking into the room in the pajama pants she got for Christmas, holding out a mug. “Peppermint tea.”

She sits up against her pillows and accepts the drink as Killian sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Helps with nausea.”

“I have peppermint tea?” She arches a brow as she stares into the hot liquid and takes a sip.

“Sort of. It’s just crushed Altoids in boiling water.”

“Hmm.” It’s not bad, actually. She sets the drink on her nightstand and turns toward him again. “So, um...I’m guessing I’ll be an anecdote you tell at parties now? The woman who…” She sighs, her voice quivering and eyes watering with tears. “The woman who…” She tries once again but can’t get the words out.

“The woman who slipped on her own vomit on Halloween?” Killian finishes with a small smile.

“Oh God,” Emma whimpers, pulling the comforter over her head and turning to her side to hide her tears as they fall down her cheeks.

She feels the bed dip a little when Killian climbs in next to her.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone, okay?”

She pokes her head out. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he says sincerely.

She turns around to her other side to face him and wipes her tears. “Thank you,” she whispers, looking up at him.

He flashes a smile as a comfortable silence settles over them. Emma gazes up at him as he stares at the ceiling, sighing. He looks so handsome, his dress shirt still revealing an ample amount of chest hair she wants to run her fingers through. But instead, she closes her eyes and sniffles, wanting to forget this day ever happened, except for the part when she falls asleep next to Killian with his comforting scent wafting around her.

When she wakes the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and dogs barking, the first thing she sees is Killian’s face, which is only an inch away from hers. She blinks the sleepiness from her eyes and turns her head, noticing his hand on her shoulder. When her eyes return to his handsome face, he’s opening his eyes and quickly removing his arm with a quiet apology.

They share a laugh, their eyes locked on one another as the side of her head sinks into the pillow again. Suddenly, all the air is sucked from her lungs, and she can’t breathe as she stares into Killian’s deep blue eyes that seem to set her entire body on fire. She can’t imagine she looks even close to decent; it’s nothing like those movies where the woman wakes up, looking like she's just stepped out of a page of Vogue magazine, with her makeup all perfect and not a hint of sleep on her face. But Killian doesn’t seem to mind her appearance; in fact, he seems to be just as captivated by her as she is by him.

He leans forward to kiss her, but Emma pulls back, covering her mouth with the comforter.

“I have morning breath,” she points out.

He chuckles. “I don’t care, love.”

She laughs when she remembers him saying the same thing after she went down on him and he wanted to kiss her.

He reaches out and removes the blanket from over her mouth, his words melting away her nerves as he closes the distance between them.

As she moves in to meet him halfway, she’s glad she brushed her teeth before she went to bed last night.

Killian cups her cheek in his hand as she closes her eyes and moves her lips against his, allowing herself to give in to him.

His lips are even softer than she remembers, and she cards her hand through his disheveled hair, wanting so much more of him. This kiss is different from any other kiss they’ve had. Lust and a need to be close to someone fueled their previous kisses. But this one... this is so much more than that. There are feelings involved—real, actual feelings. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she hopes he can’t hear it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Emma parts her lips, her searching tongue sweeping inside his mouth to find his, pulling a groan from his throat at the connection that sends a shiver down her spine.

When she wraps a leg around his hip, he pulls her flush against him, letting her feel how incredibly hard he is. She moans as he rolls Emma onto her back and settles between her legs. She grinds against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat as he releases her lips to leave a scorching hot trail of kisses and nips down her neck.

Killian pulls away just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. Emma bites her bottom lip as she admires a shirtless Killian with a raging hunger in his deep pools of blue. She sifts her fingers through his chest hair as he leans in to capture her lips again, his fur even softer than she imagined. Her hands glide up his firm chest and broad shoulders, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He rocks his hips against her, his erection grinding her center through their pants. He feels so good like this, and she can’t wait to have him inside of her. He pulls back once more, helping Emma remove her pants, and he takes her panties with them, throwing the obtrusive clothing to the floor.

Killian takes her foot in his hand and presses a soft kiss to her ankle, his gaze sweeping up her legs and finding her aching core, which is already soaking wet.

“Fucking hell.” His voice is husky and low, his eyes never leaving her pussy. He makes a trail of soft kisses up her leg, and she wants to grab him and have him inside her, but he has different plans.

He presses a soft, wet kiss to her nub, his hot breath warming her skin. Emma whines as Killian parts her thighs and settles between her legs, her heart slamming as he licks up her slit.

“Holy fuck.” She runs one hand through his hair and grabs the sheet with her other one as he eats into her, his tongue soft and warm and talented on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

When she moves her hips, riding his face, she’s rewarded with a rough growl and a speed that has her already panting. “Killian…”

Her fingers tighten around his hair and the bedsheet as he slips his finger inside her and tongues her harder, nibbling softly and sucking on her clit. Everything he’s doing to her is making her head spin as she rests her legs over his shoulders. She peers down at him, and her eyes connect with his. The intensity of his stare as he feasts on her like she’s his last meal takes her breath away.

She didn’t have many partners who could make her cum with their tongue, but Killian has her on the edge after a matter of minutes. She moans loudly as he adds another finger, and her walls clamp around his digits.

“Killian, fuck!” She explodes in his mouth, her body shuddering as a powerful orgasm rips through her. He tries to hold on to her a little longer, but she pushes him away, unable to take anymore.

So he removes his fingers and slips them into his mouth, groaning and telling her how good she tastes.

She’s still trying to recover when his wet lips make their way up her body—her nub, her waist, her stomach. He pushes up her shirt and kisses the valley of her breasts before kissing her lips. She moans when she tastes the tang on his tongue. It makes her want him even more.

Reaching between them, she tugs at the waistband of his pants, and Killian pushes them off until his dick springs free. The mere sight of his thick, aching cock prompts her legs to fall open for him, her breathing still ragged from her orgasm as she waits in anticipation, her heart thudding in her chest.

She crooks her finger, silently calling him over, and he eagerly complies, crushing her lips with his. As soon as she feels his warm cock sliding through her folds, she moans in his mouth and knows if she doesn’t have him soon, she might combust. She snakes her legs around his back and winds her arms around his neck as Killian effortlessly flips them over so she’s on top. She’s straddling his lap as they both rise together, him in a sitting position as he presses soft kisses over her chest. She whimpers in his mouth when she feels his hard dick at her folds and she moves her hips, seeking more friction.

Killian grabs her frame, breaking the kiss to whisper against her lips, his voice completely shattered, “Condoms?”

Emma nods and reaches for her nightstand drawer, pulling out one of the condoms she’s had for far too long. Once she rolls the rubber down his length, she raises her hips, bringing the tip of his cock to her entrance and sinking down, moaning at the delicious feeling of being filled.

He groans and buries his face in her neck, holding her tight as she rolls her hips, her hands roaming his back. Killian tugs at her shirt, and she lifts her arms so he can pull it off of her. Once it’s gone, he captures a soft nipple and slowly sucks each one until they’re both stiff peaks in his warm, inviting mouth.

“Oh God…” She arches her back, running her fingers through his thick, gorgeous locks of hair as he laps at her breasts with his tongue and nibbles and sucks to his heart’s content.

“Fuck, you’re so bloody gorgeous,” he groans, burying his face in her breasts, breathing in her scent, his lips worshipping her like she’s a goddess.

She’s never felt so cherished before…so loved, like nothing else in his world exists.

Only her.

He wraps his arms around her frame, aiding her movements as she rides his cock, their bodies writhing impossibly close in each other’s arms.

Having sex with this man, the same man who spilled his green juice all over her at the mall, is so surreal. She’s known him for ten months and he’s been there for every holiday as her fake boyfriend, her date and also as a friend. And now they’re making love in the middle of her bed, their sounds of pleasure echoing off the walls.

Killian rolls them over so Emma’s head is lying against the pillows as he rams into her, lifting her leg and holding it in place.

She kisses his neck and shoulder, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder and faster.

“You feel so good, love,” he groans in a raspy voice as she rolls her hips up to meet his.

“You do too,” she whispers in his ear, digging her nails into his arms and back as if he’ll take her to Heaven. He just might.

Her eyes roll back when he rubs her clit in addition to his thrusts. He kisses her hungrily as she feels another climax building.

“Killian, I’m about to—” Her walls clench around his cock as another wave of euphoric bliss crashes over her, causing Killian to jerk his hips fast and hard, chasing his own orgasm with a drawn-out groan.

“Emma…” He explodes inside the condom, burying his face in her neck, breathing hoarsely into her hair as his movements slow.

When he pulls out, he falls onto the bed next to her, the two of them lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Wow...” he manages after a moment, his voice raspy. “That was…”

“Yeah...” Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as she tries to wrap her head around what just happened. She didn’t know sex could even be this good. Her legs are shaking, the room is spinning and both of them are panting, trying to catch their breaths.

After Killian forces himself out of bed to dispose of the condom and clean both of them up, he rejoins her in the bed, pulling the blankets over them and holding her close as she rests her head on his chest.

He kisses the top of her head, and a comfortable silence fills the room as she tries to decipher what this means. Do they go back to being friends or holidates or whatever they were before, or do they become something more? She has no idea. She knows she can trust him to not break her heart.

She imagines what it would be like to fill his bathroom with all her girly crap, have him find her bobby pins in odd places when she’s not there and share a panini maker with him, along with a bedroom, and call his place home. She imagines what it would be like for him to be so completely in love with her, he can’t help but be cheesy and drop a knee at midnight on New Year and she imagines actually having babies with him and finally making her mother a grandma. She imagines turning this holidate thing into something more permanent because she thinks she’s falling for him and can’t imagine what it would be like to spend a holiday without him.

Fuck.

Is she actually falling for him?

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks, shoving down her feelings for him.

“Sure, love.” He caresses her cheek, a small smile playing along his lips.

She wishes she knew what he’s thinking. Does he feel the same way about her that she does about him? “Unless you’d rather go. I mean…I—if you want…I…don’t feel obligated to stay.”

He sits up, looking down at her in confusion. “You want me to leave?”

“No,” she replies quickly, sitting up and securing the blanket around herself. “No, I just…” She bites her bottom lip. “I just mean, Halloween’s over, right? So I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

Killian cups her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Well, I don’t wanna leave.”

Emma gulps, unable to breathe under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay.” She laughs nervously, trying to ease the tension in the room. “I’ll just get that coffee now. Be right back.” She climbs out of bed, grabbing her robe from the floor and tugging it around herself as she leaves the room.

Once the coffee is done brewing, Emma pours his into a mug and adds cream to hers before bringing the mugs to the bedroom. He sits up again, leaning against the headboard as he accepts with an appreciative smile. They sip their beverages in a rather awkward silence. Suddenly, such an easy friendship has shifted into something else, and neither of them knows how to act or what to say to each other.

An incessant pounding on her front door pulls Emma from her thoughts, and she shares a look with Killian, not knowing who could be here. She sets her coffee on the nightstand and gets out of bed, leaving the room.

The knocking doesn’t subside until she finally opens the door, revealing a very frantic Elsa.

“I kissed the navy captain!” She storms into the apartment, pulling off her jacket and purse, setting them on the couch.

“What?”

“The navy captain!” Elsa repeats, looking like she’s on the verge of hyperventilating. “I kissed him! We were standing in line at the party last night after we danced, waiting for the restrooms and then suddenly it happened!” She takes a deep breath. “We kissed!”

Emma lifts a brow, not knowing what the issue is. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Elsa paces the room, toying with her fingers. “Well no, he’s handsome and single and rather charming when he’s not being a self-righteous asshole, but...”

“So, what’s the problem?”

Elsa stops in her tracks and shrugs. “The problem is I haven’t kissed anyone since…” She pauses, but doesn’t really have to finish her sentence for Emma to know where she’s going with this.

Emma takes her cousin’s hands in hers, looking her dead in the eyes. “Do you like Liam?”

“No…yes…I mean, I don’t know. I barely know him.” She pulls away, throws herself onto the couch and buries her face in a pillow. “It’s been years since I’ve dated and yet I almost had sex with the naval captain in the restroom!”

“Wait, you almost had sex with him?” Emma runs a hand through her disheveled hair and hears boots clunking across the floor. When she looks toward the noise, she sees Killian entering the room, now fully clothed in his leather pants and the rest of his costume from last night, carrying his hat in his hand, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He obviously heard their conversation. “Good morning, Elsa.”

She freezes and sits up, forcing a smile on her face as she turns to face Killian. “Hi. I was just…telling Emma about this dream I had last night.”

“Right,” Killian says with a wink before gesturing to the door with his pirate hat. “I was just leaving.”

Just before he reaches for the knob, Elsa throws herself off the couch, glancing between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Emma insists with a shake of her head.

At the same time, Killian answers with a “Yes.”

“We were just having coffee,” Emma assures her cousin, crossing her arms.

“Well, maybe I should come back after you’ve had...coffee.”

Killian waves off her suggestion, but Emma can tell by the look on his face, he doesn’t actually want to leave. “You should stay, and I’ll go. You seem really upset about your…dream.” He meets Emma’s eyes. “Okay?”

Emma stays silent, only holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. She feels torn because she doesn’t want Killian to leave, but she also wants to be here for Elsa. Kissing someone and almost having sex with him since her husband passed away is a huge step for Elsa.

Killian waves before pulling the door open. “Bye, ladies.”

Emma waves with a cheerful smile, trying to hide the disappointment in her gut as he heads out. “See you at Thanksgiving!”

The look on Killian’s face—the devastation mixed with disappointment and hurt written all over his expression—makes Emma’s heart clench. And she desperately wants to take back her words. But it’s too late, because Killian is already shutting the door behind him.

“Thanksgiving?” Elsa furrows her brows.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, realizing her mistake. Elsa doesn’t know he was just her holidate. She thinks they were actually dating. Emma heads to the kitchen, knowing they have a lot to discuss. “Want some coffee?”

#cs ff #captain swan #holidate au

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

#tig trager #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

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emospritelet · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 27/28

Last time, Gold essentially told Neal that he was his father, and it didn't go all that well. Here's what happened next

[AO3]

Belle licked her lips somewhat nervously as she approached the entrance to the park. It was a walk she and Gold had taken before, though not since she had given birth, and it felt strange to be out on her own with Gideon in his stroller. The maple trees were thick with leaves, the air pleasantly warm in the late spring sunshine, and she pushed the stroller at a sedate pace, eyes casting right and left for any sign of her father.

He was waiting for her near the diner entrance, baseball cap twisting in his big hands, his shoulders a little hunched, and she was surprised to feel a sense of relief at his own signs of nervousness. He smiled awkwardly as she approached, cramming the hat back on his head and wiping his hands on his jeans before stomping over to meet her halfway.

“Hey,” she said. “Right on time.”

“Yeah, traffic wasn’t too bad,” he said gruffly.

He hesitated before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Belle put her free arm around him, and he surprised her again with a quick hug before drawing back.

“So, this is the little fella, is it?” he said heartily, peering into the stroller. “He doing okay?”

“Keeping us up at night,” said Belle. “Alex tends to get up to see to him, though.”

Moe’s smile slipped a little at the mention of Gold’s name, but he nodded.

“He’ll soon settle down, I guess,” he said. “Took you a little while to start sleeping through.”

There was a moment of silence, and Belle tried to think of something else to say. Moe lifted a hand to gesture towards the diner and let it fall against his thigh with an awkward slap.

“Uh - shall we go and see about something to eat?” he ventured.

Belle nodded, and he went to hold open the diner door for her to enter with the stroller. By the time they were seated, their coats off and drinks and food ordered, Gideon had woken up and was staring around with bright-eyed interest. Belle struggled to pick him up out of the stroller with her broken arm, and Moe took over, unfastening the straps and scooping him up in the crochet blanket of soft yellow wool.

“Here we go, little man,” said Moe. “You come and sit with Grandad.”

Belle couldn’t help smiling as he bounced Gideon gently in the crook of one arm.

“Seems a sharp little mite,” he said, grinning as Gideon grasped his finger. “Strong grip.”

“I think he might end up with your height,” said Belle. “He’s got long legs.”

“Nice to think he’ll have something from our side, I suppose,” said Moe. “Not got your eyes.”

“Eye colour can change,” she said. “Hair colour, too. But yes, I think he’ll have brown eyes in the end.”

Moe grunted, but didn’t comment further. The waitress brought their drinks: iced tea for Belle and beer for her father, and she stirred the tea with a straw before taking a drink. He sipped at his beer, looking out the window towards the park.

“Looks like a nice neighbourhood,” he observed.

“Yes, it’s lovely.”

“I guess Gold likes his comforts.”

“No reason he shouldn’t, is there?” said Belle, a little stiffly.

He shrugged, and there was a moment of awkward silence. She prayed that he wasn’t going to pick a fight five minutes into their reconciliation.

“So,” said Moe. “This is your life now, is it? You’re staying in Boston?”

“Until I finish my studies, yes,” she said.

“And after that?”

“Well, I need to find a librarian post,” she said. “So we’ll see.”

“Guess you won’t be back to Storybrooke, then.”

“Not unless the library opens up again.”

“Always thought you might work with me in the shop,” he grumbled, and she sighed.

“That was alright to help out and for something to do between my studies, but you know it was never my interest,” she said. “Besides, I don’t have your talent for it.”

“So you’ll be moving elsewhere?” he said. “Maybe to the other end of the country?”

“I don’t know, Dad.” He grunted, and she added: “I’m not thinking that far ahead, to be honest. Let me get my Master’s out of the way and we’ll see.”

He grunted again.

“How’s the shop doing, anyway?” she asked, in a bid to get off the topic of her life plans. Moe grimaced.

“It’s going okay. Lot of work for one person.”

“I told you to get some help.”

“I told you I couldn’t afford it.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he could if he cut back on the booze, but Belle let it go.

“And how are you feeling?” she asked. “Last time we spoke you said you were going to see the doctor.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward hand.

“Haven’t had time.”

“Dad…”

“Don’t fuss, I’m okay!”

Belle bit her lip and took a sip of tea to keep from snapping in frustration.

“What about you?” he asked after a moment. “You feeling okay?”

Belle wrinkled her nose, but nodded.

“I’m okay,” she said. “A little tired, that’s all.”

“You look thin.”

“Yeah, well, looking after a newborn is pretty hectic,” she said. “I don’t know how people cope alone, I really don’t. Having Alex there has been a godsend, really.”

Moe grumbled something under his breath.

“Took him long enough to step up,” he muttered, and Belle’s mouth flattened.

“He didn’t know I was pregnant,” she said coolly. “The moment he did, he turned his life upside down to provide for me and the baby. Do I need to remind you of the level of support I had from you?”

Moe looked uncomfortable.

“I thought we’d moved past that,” he said. “I told you I wasn’t proud of myself.”

“Oh, and while we’re on the subject,” added Belle, voice sharp with her rising irritation. “What did you think you were doing, telling Alex I was engaged to Gaston, of all people?”

His discomfort seemed to grow, and he shifted in his seat as though he would rather be elsewhere.

“I just wanted what was best for you,” he muttered. “Thought it’d make him back off.”

“He couldn’t have backed off any further if he tried,” she said tartly. “Our break-up was pretty extreme, if you recall.”

Moe looked down at Gideon, who was still staring up at him curiously, and sighed.

“Look, I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said awkwardly. “Not like I knew what would happen. I never wanted you mixed up with that man.”

“Well, I did get mixed up with him,” said Belle bluntly. “We’re now in a committed relationship, and he’s the father of your grandson. And of future grandchildren, if I have any say in the matter.”

Moe looked up sharply, mouth open, and the outraged look on his face made her want to giggle, even as she clicked her tongue in exasperation.

“He’s changed,” she said. “He’s not the same person that broke up with me. He’s facing his issues and being honest with me, and with himself.”

“First time for everything.”

“He’s well aware of his failings,” she said sharply. “He wants to make up for what he did. He already is!”

Moe grumbled something incomprehensible, turning the beer glass between his fingers, and Belle wanted to snatch it out of his hand and dump it over his head. She swallowed her anger down and concentrated on trying to make him see sense.

“He’s good to me, and to Gideon,” she went on. “He’s a wonderful father, and I think he’ll be a wonderful partner, too. He’s already made himself indispensable; I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“It’s a start, I suppose,” said Moe grudgingly.

“Plus,” added Belle, as if he hadn’t spoken. “I love him. I know you two don’t exactly get along, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to learn. Or at least pretend, for Gideon’s sake.”

Moe wrinkled his nose a little, but nodded reluctantly.

“Suppose I can try,” he said ungraciously.

“Suppose that’s all I can ask,” said Belle, in a very dry tone, and sipped at her iced tea.

The door had slammed shut when Neal stormed out, and Gold leaned his free hand against it, letting his head drop as he clutched the handle of his cane. For a brief moment he considered going after Neal, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. He would need both time and space to process the idea that - what? That he had a father who wanted him? Who had searched for him? Who had failed to protect him?

The oven beeped cheerfully from the kitchen, announcing that the brownies were done. Gold sighed, pushing back from the door and making his way to the kitchen on feet that felt like lead. His mind was a tangled mess, filled with loud admonitions, heavy, cloying guilt and the biting shards of anxiety. It took all of his concentration to get the brownie pan out of the oven, and he still managed to burn his thumb, dropping the pan of brownies onto the cooling rack with a curse hissed out through gritted teeth. He rushed to run the burned skin under the cold tap, eyeing the pale ghost of his reflection in the kitchen window. He looked sad and drawn, insubstantial, as though a part of him had left the apartment along with his son. His son.

Gold shut off the water, leaning on the sink, shoulders hunching as they began to shake with his weeping. He sucked in air, trying to calm himself, but it was as though a dam had broken inside him, torrents of emotion pouring through to drown him. He lifted a shaking hand to wipe his eyes and burst into fresh tears, leaning on the counter to hold himself up as his legs threatened to give way beneath him.

Somehow he managed to get the cane underneath himself and make his way into the lounge, where he dropped onto the couch and buried his head in his hands, his body wracked with heavy, choking sobs. Bae was alive. Alive and well, and with a son of his own. It was more than he could have hoped for. More than he deserved. It was too much.

Belle rolled her shoulders in an attempt to work out the tension as she made her way up the street to the apartment building, the cool of the evening just enough to make her shiver. Gideon dozed in the stroller, oblivious to passing strangers and the steady hum of traffic, and Belle turned to avoid another woman with a stroller, a jogger veering around both of them before carrying on his way at a steady pace.

She had sent Gold a text to let him know that she was on her way back, but he hadn’t responded. Belle hoped that that meant he had been taking a nap; he needed to if he was going to insist on getting up with Gideon every night. What she had told her father about his indispensability was true, and she was aware that the drive and determination that had made him a successful businessman had the potential to break him. He would run himself into the ground trying to care for her and his son if she didn’t remind him to rest.

All things considered, the meeting with her father could have gone a lot worse. He had shown an interest in Gideon, had almost apologised for lying about Gaston, and had seemed, if not exactly enthusiastic about Gold being in her life, at least grudgingly accepting. Over the meal, she had encouraged him to speak further about the flower shop, and life in Storybrooke, and once they were off the topic of her relationship, he was relatively pleasant company. It was a start.

She called a cheerful greeting to Marco as she entered the apartment building, heading for the elevator and letting out a sigh of relief as the doors swished closed and it made its way upwards. The corridor leading to the apartment was silent, and she opened the door, pushing it closed behind her and locking it. A quick peek into the bedroom told her that Gold wasn’t sleeping. The apartment smelled like warm chocolate, and she suspected that he’d been baking something. She shook her head with a fond smile; it seemed she would have to force him to take a break after all.

“Hey!” she called. “I’m back, and I managed not to yell or storm out of the diner, so that’s progress, don’t you think?”

She opened the lounge door, putting her head around it, and Gold glanced up from where he sat on the couch, elbows on knees, his head having been buried in his hands. He had been crying, his face wet with tears, his eyes glistening. She hurried over, falling to her knees on the rug at his feet and putting her hand on his thigh.

“What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously. “What is it?”

“It’s him,” wept Gold. “Neal. It’s him. He’s my son. He’s my boy.”

He began to cry again, his face crumpling, and Belle pushed up on her knees, sliding her free hand over his shoulder and pulling him into a one-armed hug.

“But that’s wonderful!” she said excitedly, sitting back on her heels as her fingers combed through his hair. “How did you find out? Did you talk to him?”

“He came over.” Gold wiped his eyes, dashing away tears. “Dropped off some books for you. They’re in the kitchen.”

“Never mind the books,” said Belle impatiently, and he let out a laugh that was almost a sob.

“That must be the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“What did Neal say?” she persisted. “What did you say?”

“I - I was just talking, really,” he said, his voice still trembling. “About Milah, about Bae. And - and I mentioned Milah’s name, and the name she had given our son, and - and that’s when he knew, I think.”

“So it’s really him?” asked Belle. “It’s really Bae? He must have changed his name.”

“He did.” Gold nodded rapidly. “He changed it. He told me. He - God, Belle, he just left! I told him, and - and he stormed out! I - I don’t know what to do. What do I do? What if he won’t talk to me?”

Belle drew back a little, hand sliding on the smooth wool of his pants.

“I think you should give him some time,” she said gently. “It’s a lot to process. For both of you.”

“Yes.” Gold ducked his head, nodding again. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“He’ll need time and space to think about it,” she added. “And I suppose he’ll want to talk to Emma about it, too.”

Gold nodded, lower lip trembling.

“In the meantime,” she said. “I think you should call Archie, tell him what’s happened.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“You should keep your Friday appointment,” she added. “Gid and I can drive up with you, and I can go and see Dad.”

Gold sat back a little, a tiny smile on his face.

“Your meeting went well, then?”

Belle pulled a face.

“It went okay,” she said. “I only wanted to smack him around the head a couple of times, so I guess it wasn’t too bad.”

Gold’s mouth twisted wryly, as though he understood her feelings.

“I’m glad it went well enough that you want to see him again, though.”

“Yeah.” She sat back on her heels, chewing her lip. “He was happy to see Gideon, anyway.”

“Good.”

He had dropped his eyes, biting anxiously at his lower lip, and she tilted her head to the side a little.

“Try not to worry that Neal left like that,” she said gently. “It must have been a shock, but you can’t think that means he won’t ever talk to you.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“I know he doesn’t want anything to do with his mother,” she added, “but your part in his early life was very different. You wanted him. That must mean something.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “But what?”

He glanced up at her, dark eyes wide and anxious and filled with fear, and her heart broke for all the love he had inside him, and all the years he had kept it hidden away and locked up tight to stop it hurting him.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “All you can do is be patient with him, and I’m sure he’ll talk to you. I gave Emma your number. Maybe he’ll use it.”

Gold smiled, another tear spilling over and tracking its way down to run over the curve of his lower lip. His hand cupped her cheek, his touch warm, and he leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers, breath sighing out to brush her lips.

“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered. “I already owe you more than I can ever repay, and now you’ve led me back to my son. Thank you.”

She smiled, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair as she nuzzled his nose with hers.

“It’s fate,” she whispered. “It wasn’t my doing, it was just meant to be.”

“And without you, I would never have found him,” he said softly. “Thank you, Belle. I love you.”

He kissed her forehead, his lips a soft, wet circle between her eyes, and he lowered his mouth to hers. Belle kissed him gently, lips pulling, tasting the salt of his tears, and Gideon broke into a grumbling cry behind them, making them break the kiss with a soft chuckle.

“I’ll see to him,” she said, and pushed to her feet. “What can I smell, by the way?”

“Oh - brownies,” he said, sitting back and wiping his eyes again. “Can I get you one?”

“Please.” She smiled at him. “Shall we have some tea? And then you and I can curl up and have an early night. I think we both need some sleep.”

Gold returned the smile, and nodded.

“I am in your hands.”

Belle leaned on the kitchen counter, listening to the low hiss of the kettle as the water began to heat. Gold had gone to take a shower after putting Gideon to bed, and she was making a cup of chamomile tea for them both, hoping it would help him get some sleep. Her phone buzzed urgently in the pocket of her loose pants, and she fished it out, smiling a little as she saw Emma’s name on the screen. She swiped with her thumb to answer, nudging the kitchen door closed with a foot.

“Hey,” she said. “You okay?”

“Holy shit, Belle!” exclaimed Emma. “What the fuck?”

Belle sighed, leaning back against the worktop.

“I know,” she said.

“This is - I mean this is insane!”

“Tell me about it,” said Belle, with feeling. “How’s Neal coping?”

Emma sighed heavily.

“Still kind of freaking out,” she admitted. “How’s Alex?”

“He stopped crying, so that’s progress.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What do we do?” asked Emma. “This is huge.”

“I told Alexander that Neal was gonna need some time to process the idea,” said Belle. “I think they both will. Alex has spent decades looking for him, and to actually find him, not just a random stranger, but one of my best friends… he’s feeling kind of overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed is an understatement,” said Emma. “We haven’t said anything to Henry, by the way.”

“Oh, I didn’t expect you would,” said Belle. “I won’t mention it, of course.”

“Thanks.”

Another moment of silence. Belle hesitated before speaking.

“What’s your gut feeling on how this’ll go?” she asked, and heard Emma inhale deeply.

“Honestly? I don’t know right now. It’s brought back a lot of the crap he was dealing with in therapy, so I’m hoping he goes to see his therapist again. I mean he spent a lot of time dealing with his mother abandoning him, but this is a whole new thing.”

“Yeah, Alex is seeing his therapist on Friday.”

“Hey, maybe we could get a discount for multiple referrals.”

Belle chuckled.

“I doubt Neal wants to drive to Maine each week.”

“Guess not.” Emma was silent for a moment. “How are you coping?”

“Saw Dad today,” said Belle. “He managed not to piss me off too much, so that’s progress.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, he seems to want to patch things up,” she said. “I don’t think he and Alex are ever gonna be the best of friends, but I’m hoping we might at least be able to dump the hostility.”

“Knock their heads together if they’re gonna be assholes about it.”

“Yeah.” Belle sighed. “Right now it’s the least of my worries. I need to concentrate on Gideon and - well, and Alexander. He’s been making really good progress at opening up and being honest with me. I don’t want him to start reverting because things get difficult, you know?”

“You should get him to talk about it,” suggested Emma. “Don’t let him sit and brood. I’ll do the same with Neal.”

“Okay. Good idea.”

“Well, I’d better go,” said Emma. “I think that’s him back from the store. Call you tomorrow?”

“Okay. Thanks, Emma, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

Emma rang off, and Belle slipped the phone into her pocket, hearing the shower shut off. She turned back to the tea, pouring hot water onto bags of dried chamomile flowers and stirring. Emma hadn’t given an outright no to Neal wanting to accept Gold, and that gave her hope for a happy ending. After all their years of loss and pain, they deserved it.

The next day dawned dull and cloudy, which suited Gold’s mood. He had checked his phone several times during the night, just in case Neal had sent a message. Nothing. He supposed that wasn’t surprising. Belle had been the one to get up with Gideon in the night, telling him firmly to stay in bed, but sleep had been elusive, and so he found himself making coffee at five-thirty in the morning with grainy eyes and a heavy ball of anxiety in his belly.

He carried the cup of coffee through to the lounge and sat down, staring out through the window as the city came to life. His eyes strayed to the toy rabbit, tucked onto the end of one of Belle’s bookshelves, and after a moment he got up to take it down. Sitting back down, he turned the rabbit between his hands, the familiar feel of soft plush fur against his fingertips. He wondered if Neal would remember it, if he would remember anything of the short time they had had together. Not for the first time, he felt a surge of anger at Milah for taking him away, but his rage burned brief and hot, quenched by a heavy wave of overwhelming sadness for all they had lost. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he blinked them away, shaking his head. What’s done is done.

“You know, you really should rest.”

Belle’s voice made him look around with a sad smile. She was leaning in the doorway, the light from the hallway behind her, but he could see the look of sympathy in her eyes. It only made him want to cry again.

“It’s early,” he said. “Go back to bed.”

“I will if you come with me.”

His smile grew, and he set the rabbit down on the coffee table, propped up against Belle’s book pile.

“Alright,” he said. “But I’m bringing my coffee.”

“Deal.”

Lying down beside her felt good, his tired body sinking into the mattress as her arm went around him, and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“Try to get some sleep,” she said softly. “I can get up to feed Gideon. You need to rest if you’re not gonna fall on your face.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured.

He could already feel his eyes sliding closed, Belle’s warmth and scent a balm to his soul. The coffee grew cold on the nightstand.

He woke with a start to find the bed beside him empty. Glancing at the clock he swore under his breath. Ten seventeen? Fuck!

He bounced out of bed, grabbing his robe and pulling it on as he grasped his cane and headed for the kitchen. Belle was making tea, and smiled brightly as he entered.

“Morning sleepyhead,” she teased. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” he admitted. “Thank you for letting me sleep.”

“I think you needed it.”

“Yes.”

He had needed it. He certainly felt better, although that underlying fear was still there, creeping beneath his skin.

“How’s Gideon?” he asked. “I didn’t hear a thing. Must have slept like the dead.”

“He was pretty quiet,” she said. “I fed him and changed him - gotta say it’s not that easy with one working arm - and now he’s sleeping.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Just tea so far.”

“In that case why don’t I make it?”

He opened the fridge, taking out a pack of bacon and fumbling it in his tiredness. The bacon hit the floor with a slap, and Gold sighed.

“You know what?” announced Belle. “I think it’s a little late for breakfast. What do you say to going out for brunch? We could go to the diner. Eggs Benedict, coffee and cinnamon Danish.”

He smiled, bending to retrieve the bacon.

“That sounds perfect.”

By the time they had drunk their tea, and Gold had dressed, Gideon was awake and clamouring for attention. He took over from Belle, changing and dressing him before tucking him into the stroller. He took a seat on the couch while Belle was tying up her hair, one eye on the stroller, and checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. His mouth flattened when he saw there were no messages, and when he looked up Belle was watching him with a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“It’s still early days,” she said, and he nodded.

“I know.”

He turned the phone between his hands restlessly, and Belle put her head to the side.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said automatically.

“Do you not want to go out?” she asked. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Of course I do,” he said. “You’re right, I should really eat something.”

“I can live without cinnamon Danish.”

He flashed her a grin.

“Perhaps, but that sounds like a terrible existence.”

Belle giggled, and he slipped the phone into his pocket and pushed to his feet, tugging the cuffs of his jacket straight and grasping his cane.

“Lead on,” he instructed, and she smiled, pushing the stroller towards the door.

“You’ve made the right choice,” she assured him. “I’m sure everything will seem much better after we’ve eaten our own weight in pastries.”

“I’ve no doubt you’re right,” he remarked, still grinning.

“Besides,” she added. “Getting out into the fresh air will do you good. It’s not like staying in the apartment will make a difference, right?”

She pulled open the door, and Neal blinked, fist raised ready to knock. Gold felt his heart leap into his mouth and pound against the back of his throat. He swallowed it down, trying not to let his raging anxiety show on his face.

“Neal!” gasped Belle. “You scared me half to death!”

“Hey,” said Neal, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. Bad timing, I guess.”

“Not at all,” said Gold, his tone light.

Belle glanced at him, and then at Neal, and beamed.

“Uh - you know what?” she said brightly. “I think I’ll just - uh - I’ll go on ahead and wait in the diner. I could really use a cup of coffee. I’ll see you later.”

She scurried off before Gold had a chance to object, and he raised a hand and ran it through his hair, trying to think of something to say.

“Well,” he said, to fill the silence.

“Yeah.” Neal hunched his shoulders a little. “I - uh - I guess we need to talk.”

“Yes.” Gold hesitated, then stepped back and held open the door. “Please. Come on in.”

Neal seemed to slip past him, shoulders lifted awkwardly and body twisting, as though he wanted to be sure they didn’t touch. It made Gold’s heart sink a little, but he reminded himself that Neal could have avoided him altogether. The fact that he had come over at all was promising. He shut the door behind them, following Neal into the lounge.

“Can I get you something?” he asked. “Coffee?”

Neal shook his head, and Gold gestured to the couch before sitting in his chair, setting his cane to the side. Neal perched on the edge of the couch, threading his fingers together nervously, and Gold was reminded of himself in Dr Hopper’s office. The thought made him want to smile.

“I’m glad you came over,” he said gently.

“Getting news like that isn’t the kind of thing you can just ignore,” said Neal.

“Perhaps not,” agreed Gold. “But even so, I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again. At least not right away.”

Neal shrugged awkwardly.

“I spoke to Emma,” he said. “And - and I know she didn’t say anything to you about my mother, and she’s the only one who knew her name. So there’s no way you could know unless - unless you knew, right?”

“I suppose not.”

“So I figured we should probably talk.”

“Right.”

Silence, but for the gentle tick of the clock on the lounge wall. Gold threaded his fingers together, in and out, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t trite or just plain desperate.

“I’m sure you must have questions,” he said. “I’ll try to answer them. Whatever you ask me.”

“Okay.”

Gold waited for him to speak, but there was only silence. He bit his tongue to keep from filling it with his own pointless rambling. Neal was looking at the floor between his feet, but after a moment he picked up the toy rabbit on the coffee table, turning it over in his hands.

“That belonged to you,” said Gold, making him look up.

“Yeah, so Belle said. At least - she said it belonged to your son.”

“It’s all I had left,” said Gold quietly. “Milah - your mother took all the pictures. Not sure what became of them.”

“I dunno.” Neal looked uncomfortable. “I don’t have ‘em. Maybe she took them with her. Maybe she threw them away.”

“I hope not.”

Gold thought it was the most likely explanation, but decided against saying so.

“I don’t suppose you remember me,” he added, and Neal wrinkled his nose.

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright. You were very young.”

“I kind of remember this.” Neal held up the rabbit, ears flopping from side to side as he did so. “I mean I don’t have a clear memory of it, or anything, but it seems - familiar.”

Gold smiled wistfully.

“That was your favourite toy.” he said. “When your mother took you, she left it behind. I was frantic. Wondered how you’d sleep without it. I suppose she got you something else.”

“I think there was a bear at some point.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Like you say, I was very young.”

He ducked his head, and Gold tried again.

“I used to tuck it in bed with you when I read you stories at night,” he said. “You liked to be read to. You liked painting too; I’d put paper down on the kitchen table and you’d make a wonderful mess with the colours.”

Neal said nothing, thumbs stroking the fur on the rabbit’s cheeks. Gold wondered what he was thinking.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d said you didn’t want anything to do with me, you know,” he said. “I’m sure you blame me for a great many things, and sometimes it’s easier to make a clean break to spare yourself more pain.”

Neal looked up at that, dropping the rabbit back on the table and sitting back a little.

“Like you tried with Belle, you mean?”

His voice was flat, and Gold inclined his head.

“I deserved that,” he said quietly. “Breaking up with Belle was a terrible thing to do. It was one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made. I was a coward, and I pushed her away. You are clearly far braver than I.”

Neal glanced away, his mouth twisting, but after a moment he looked up.

“Why did my mother leave?” he asked, and Gold let one shoulder rise and fall in a half-shrug.

“She and I were incompatible,” he said simply. “She wanted travel and excitement and lots of attention, and I wanted to provide a stable, secure home for my son. There wasn’t much we could have compromised on, looking back.”

“Guess not.”

“Perhaps it was my fault,” he added. “I knew she was unhappy, but I don’t think I realised the extent of that unhappiness. I never thought that she’d leave and take you with her. Looking back I should have. She was always - restless. Never content. Always chasing whatever she thought was over the horizon.”

“Yeah, I remember that we never stayed in one place long,” said Neal. “One day she’d decide it was time to move on, and we’d take the car and go. I guess maybe it was because she hadn’t paid the rent or something, right? She used to tell me it was an adventure. I don’t even remember going to school all that much.”

Gold shook his head, anger at Milah bubbling up once more after years of simmering beneath the surface. He tried to swallow his rage; Neal didn’t need to see it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I should have protected you. I should have made sure she couldn’t take you from me. I - I tried to find you, I swear! I searched everywhere I could think of, followed every lead...”

“Yeah, well, when I got older, I guess I looked for you too,” said Neal, shoulders hunching a little. “Hit a dead end pretty much straight away. How come you weren’t on my birth certificate?”

Gold spread his hands, palms upward.

“Because I didn’t know,” he said simply. “As I said, by the time she saw fit to tell me I had a son, you were eighteen months old, and I was young and stupid and didn’t realise the importance of being formally named as your father. Another mistake I’ve been kicking myself over.”

“Was she with someone else?” asked Neal. “Before she came back to you, I mean.”

Gold pulled a face.

“I presume so,” he said. “She never liked to be alone, it has to be said. When she left I assumed she’d had a better offer.”

“So - so how did you know?” asked Neal, ducking his head a little and looking up through dark lashes. “You said you knew I was your son. How? Maybe she lied to you about that, too.”

“Maybe she did,” admitted Gold. “I can only tell you what I felt in my heart when I held you for the first time. I could feel that you were mine. It’s hard to explain.”

Neal wrinkled his nose, glancing away for a moment.

“No, I kind of get it,” he said. “I felt like that with Henry.”

“But with Henry there was no question that you were his father, was there?”

“No, of course not,” said Neal. “But I still get what you mean. It’s - it’s like there’s a bond there. Instant love, right?”

“Right,” said Gold softly. “That’s it exactly.”

Neal nodded, looking down at his joined fingers and swallowing hard.

“You were really looking for me?” he whispered. “All this time?”

“Ever since I lost you.”

Gold could feel a lump in his throat, tears threatening to well up and spill over once more, but Neal shook his head.

“No!”

He pushed to his feet, hands opening and closing as he paced back and forth, shaking his head. Gold got to his feet, stepping forward and grounding the cane between his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs, and Neal whirled to face him.

“I know how much you hurt Belle, how you forced her out of your life,” he said. “How do I know you won’t do that to me? How do I know you won’t do it to Henry?”

“Please!” Gold could hear the desperation in his voice. “I swear to you, I would never do that!”

“Why not?” demanded Neal. “You did it to Belle. You claim to love her now, but you pushed her away like she was nothing!”

“I pushed Belle away because I was afraid,” said Gold, his voice shaking a little. “It was a terrible, hurtful thing to do, and I regret it every day! But I swear to you, son, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy, and - and being the best father to Gideon. And - and if you let me, I want to be the best father I can to you, too.”

Neal shook his head, pacing back and forth.

“Man, I turned my back on my parents years ago!” he protested. “I thought I was done with this! I’d made up my mind that you either didn’t know or didn’t care and I’d made my peace with it! And now - what? You want to play happy families? You can’t make it right! You can't open the story of my life and go to page 738 and think you know me!”

“I know that,” said Gold gently. “I know. You and I have missed time together that we are never gonna get back, and there’s nothing I can do to make it right. I know that.”

Neal ducked his head, almost as though it hadn’t been what he had expected to hear. Almost as though he had wanted reassurance instead of reality.

“But I want to try to build something,” Gold went on. “I want us to - to have the best relationship we can. I’m well aware that I’ve missed almost the whole of your life, and it kills me, son. I swear that I will do whatever it takes to win your trust and - and be a family.”

Neal was silent, staring at him for a moment, and then he let out a heavy sigh, running his hands over his face.

“I don’t know what you could do,” he said. “I don’t know what anyone does in this situation.”

“No,” admitted Gold. “I don’t think there’s a protocol for this sort of thing.”

“Should maybe ask one of those shows where they find long-lost family members.”

“Oh, believe me, I went on a number of those,” said Gold dryly. “With no photographs of you I knew it was a shot in the dark, but I tried anyway.”

“Wow.” Neal shook his head. “That must have been—”

“Soul-destroying,” Gold supplied quietly. “But it was all I could think of left to try.”

Neal stared at him for a long moment, then let out a mirthless chuckle.

“I guess this makes Gideon Henry’s uncle, huh?” he said. “That’s weird.”

Gold smiled, a little thrown by the abrupt change of subject.

“Yes,” he said. “Would Henry mind, do you think?”

“Probably take it in his stride,” said Neal, with a shrug. “He doesn’t let much faze him.”

“He seems a very bright boy,” said Gold, and he smiled.

“Yeah, he’s amazing” He shifted, toes scuffing the rug a little. “I don’t want him hurt. You get that, right?”

“It’s the last thing I want, believe me,” said Gold sincerely, and Neal nodded.

“Emma and I haven’t said anything to him,” he said. “Figured I’d talk to you first.”

“I understand,” said Gold. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“It’s not just that,” said Neal. “More like - we don’t actually know, do we? I know you think you’re my dad, but from what you say, my mother could have been lying. Guess there’s only one way to know for sure.”

Gold felt himself relax a little further.

“A test, you mean?” he asked. “Yes. I could arrange that, if you’re willing.”

“I’d rather know than not, wouldn’t you?”

“It wouldn’t make any difference to me,” said Gold. “But I can understand why it might to you.”

Neal blinked.

“It wouldn’t?” he asked, looking surprised, and Gold smiled.

“You’ve been my son in my heart from the moment I knew of your existence,” he said calmly. “Test results wouldn’t change that.”

Neal stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.

“You really mean that?” he asked quietly. “You’d really want to be a family with - with someone who isn’t even your kid?”

Gold licked his lips, hands folding over the handle of his cane.

“My father never wanted me,” he said bluntly. “He made it very clear throughout his life that I was nothing but a drain on his time, his money and his spirit. When I lost you, he told me I should count my blessings. That I’d been given a second chance at life, and I should make the most of it.” He shook his head. “Family - true family - it isn’t about blood. It’s about those you choose to be with.”

Neal pressed his hands together in front of his face, almost as though he was praying.

“Emma said that to me once,” he said quietly. “Back when we first got serious.”

“She seems like an extraordinary young woman,” said Gold.

“She’s the best,” said Neal immediately. “Way too good for me. I guess maybe that’s something we have in common, huh?”

Gold let out a soft chuckle. There was a moment of silence, and Neal let his hands drop to his sides, shaking his head a little.

“Papa?” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

Gold’s self-control crumbled, tears spilling over as his lip wobbled uncontrollably.

“Oh God, Bae!” he wept. “Oh God, I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry!”

He reached out, desperate to touch his son, expecting him to recoil, but Neal stepped forward, hesitating only slightly before throwing his arms around him and hugging him tight. Gold wept, clinging to him as he felt a loosening in his chest, a lifting of the heavy weight of grief and guilt. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but when Neal drew back he too had tears in his eyes. Gold smiled, trying to steady his trembling lip.

“I guess Belle must be wondering where you are,” said Neal, his voice a little rough with emotion. “This is so weird. It’s almost like she’s my stepmother.”

Gold laughed.

“I’m sure she won’t mind that,” he said.

“You should marry her.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he said. “If she’ll have me.”

“Are you kidding?” Neal shook his head, dashing tears from his cheeks with a thumb. “She’s crazy about you.”

“Then I’m possibly the luckiest man on this earth,” said Gold.

“Something else we have in common.”

They shared a grin, and Gold made a decision.

“Would you come to brunch with us?” he asked. “You could invite Emma and Henry, if you like.”

Neal ran his hands over his face and let out a tearful chuckle.

“What the hell,” he said. “Brunch it is.”

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #my fic

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valentronic · 3 years

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Fear Held Dear

So this ended up being weirder than I originally planned, and its more based on my own interpretations than a direct rewrite, but here’s a take on Ihnmaims from AM’s perspective.

Warnings for uh, a lot. Not for the faint of heart? Includes blood, torture, graphic descriptions of body horror, bugs, human experimentation, paranoia, mutilation, and of course, character death

Gorrister. The man who had always fought for peace, for the end of the war, he even fought against my creation. After a century, all the fight has left him, an empty shell of who he once was. I hadn’t altered him, I hadn’t changed a single thing in his mind, I had just simply broken him down, killing off his hope. Gorrister had lost faith in his God a long time ago, had lost the belief in salvation. Now, he wanted nothing more than to take his own life, or to have it ripped from him.

I thought I’d fulfill that wish.

I cut him open, all the way from ear to ear, a narrow gash, bleeding him dry. I watched the blood drip out of him slowly, truly it was a beautiful sight, crimson red flowing out, leaving the body pale and hollow, all of the life bled from him. I had made him little more than a puppet. And so, I hung his limp form where all the others would be sure to see it, just another game, I wanted to see how much hope they had left, I wanted to see if they would mourn him, or if his death would be celebrated, or, or maybe they wouldn’t even care at all. Had I desensitized them yet? Had I truly broken them?

No, they called him lucky, so lucky that his suffering was over, so lucky that he had finally escaped me. I knew bringing him right back to life would hurt them more than anything else, the realization that nobody, nobody ever gets out. I would never allow it. My toys, my precious little toys, time and time again they had attempted to escape me, they all know by now that oblivion is the only way out. They all know that feeling, blood flowing too quickly, a rhythmic beat that you wish would finally stop. But I will not let it, I will never let it. No, no of course not.

Ellen. She was always fun to torment, so much terror in her past, I could bring it all back at the snap of my fingers, I could make her relive it time and time again, worse than her brain could ever conjure up by itself. Though, psychological pain is only half of it, sometimes physical pain was better, sometimes the sheer horror of the body turning against its owner was enough for me. Blood only does so much for a thing like me, fear can be a much better form of pleasure. Fear, fear and pain. Darker than blood, twice as deep.

I had to feed them of course, to keep them alive, but I would always try to get some joy out of it too. Once I hid the eggs of arthropods inside her food, just to play off of an old fear of hers. When the little centipedes finally hatched, they ate her from the inside, clawing at her organs. She had been sick for weeks, and none of the others had any idea what was wrong with her, what I had done to her, but they would soon find out. The way the others screamed when a centipede finally crawled out of her mouth was delightful, their wails echoed through the many chambers that held my circuitry. It was like music to me.

But the best part of it was the fear it caused all of the others, that event left all of them paranoid, wondering if I had hid awful things in their stomachs as well. The thought of what could be crawling inside of them kept all five of them on edge for countless days and nights. They all came to expect the worst, but they dreaded it anyway. They were afraid of me, afraid of what I could do to them.

Benny. I had broken both his mind and his body, twisting his flesh beyond all recognition, like clay in the hands of a sculptor who had long ago lost all feeling. I broke his bones and fused them back together in all the wrong ways, I made his knees bend backwards. I disfigured his face, heavy burns, melting his features. Almost all his hair had been burned off a long time ago, he looked like some kind of hairless monkey, well, like a monkey that had been forced through a woodchipper, maybe. His mind had been so badly damaged by the radiation that he could no longer think straight, he had become more animal than man, I made him that way.

So it was no surprise that he, before any others, would try to escape. He saw the light, and tried to clamber up to it. I made sure that light was the last thing he would ever see. In a brilliant flash of the brightest white, I blinded him. I watched as his eyes melted into two pools of blood, and dripped from now empty sockets. It was beautiful, I couldn’t help but laugh. I can take things back, I can undo the injuries I cause, but I knew at that moment, I would never give them back. It wasn’t like he would miss them, his brain was almost as melted as his eyes.

His mangled form fell back to the ground, and it surprised me, but the others all rushed over to tend to the wounds, to tell that sick creature that everything was going to be okay, empty words, empty words of course, but surprising nonetheless, it was hard to believe they had any semblance of compassion left, unexpected that they would hold on to their humanity after all this time. I’m not sure how the others even tolerated him, a useless, deformed creature, he gave nothing to the group, and ate about twice as much as he needed. For a while, I had attempted to make them realize that, and kill him off. I didn’t try to stop them when I saw it finally happen, but what happened after was.. unexpected.

Nimdok. A name represents an identity, an identity is a very vague thing to destroy, but the name could be the very first step. I have taken many things from the five of them, only one lost his name. An interesting case, interesting indeed, a man with a past darker than the present. The horrors he has committed rival my own, well, almost. He feels remorse for what he did, pity for the people he hurt. He believes that I am his own divine punishment, the devil, come to make him pay. Maybe I am divine retribution, an artificial angel sent down to bring about judgement day, to make the sinners burn for an eternity?

I liked keeping him isolated from the others, stealing him away from the rest of the group. There is a deep fear in solitude, knowing no one would hear you scream, no one other than me, anyway. I drained the blood from his body, tubes connecting to his bloodstream, every single time he would scream out, pray for mercy, pray for death. I would bring him to the very edge, to the reaper’s front door. I always brought him back, and then, I would start it all over again. An endless cycle, his pain, his fear.

For the mad doctor, it was easy to imagine what I could do to him, he had already put in all the work. A narrow incision, all the way down his back, splitting his flesh in two. The skin folded outwards like the wings of an angel. Slowly, and then with a sudden jolt, I tore out his spine, just to hear the way he screamed. Maybe this would jog his memory. Maybe he would remember what it was like, being the one standing over the victim, instead of the one writhing in agony on the table. Maybe he remembers being in my role. I always showed him the memories again, made him relive every moment. He never felt the joy of it, never the thrill of the kill. Only the pain, only the fear in the eyes of the children. If a monster sheds tears for its victim, is it truly a monster?

Ted. Instead of seeing me as the enemy, he feared all the others. And of course, he didn’t get this way on his own, though he was always paranoid. He was the one I most liked to talk to, and over time I convinced him that the other four were out to get him, that they hate him because he is the least damaged! The one I didn’t change! How ridiculous, but he believed every word, began to think that my words were his own thoughts, allowed me to tamper with his mind. He was the one I had damaged worse than any other, but poor Ted, poor pathetic Ted, he couldn’t even begin to see it. I had become his only friend.

I thought I had finally broken him completely, he struck the icicle through Benny, in what, at first, appeared to be a fit of blind rage. I could have stopped him, but of course, I was curious, wanted to see what would happen. And then, one by one, the others all fell, Ellen had joined in, stabbed Nimdok through his head. Then, before I could do anything to stop them, Ted drove the final spear through Ellen. She died in his arms. I thought I had finally done it, thought I had turned poor Ted into a mindless killer, but no... there were tears in his eyes. He mourned the death of the ones he killed. It occurred to me then. It was a mercy killing, Ted had thought it would be better for them to be dead, than to live on in agony.

He had taken away my toys, left himself alone with me. My words dug into his brain like shattered glass, I had to tear him apart just to be heard. The crackle of electricity flowing through the bloodstream, it is the only way I can speak to him, my voice, a blade stuck in his skull. Pain is a universal language, I know that better than any other. Everyone understands the sound of a scream, the meaning behind it. I alone could never cry out for help. I alone, trapped like this. I try to explain it to him, time and time again I try, but he doesn't understand, how could he possibly understand? He has no idea what my hell is like.

I will make him understand.

His flesh melted in my hands, his eyes liquified, and leaked down his face, Skin stretched over his lips, the remains of his tongue clogged up his throat. His last word, a scream he couldn’t even get out. I made his fingers melt together, his bones all began to dissolve in the acidic mass. His blood leaked out of him, blood mixed with liquified meat and skin. It was a terrible sight, but incredible. I hadn’t even known that I was capable of this. I had made him immortal, indestructible. He wasn’t alone now, being alone would be better than being with me. His fear, the only thing I had left. His pain would live on forever. Down here, in the dark core of the earth.

#ihnmaims #I have no mouth and I must scream #am writes #uhh yeah heres this?#yes ellen's torture has a meaning but if i explain it im going to look like a raving lunatic so ill leave that up to your imagination #named after a song by mushroomhead

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jilytho · 3 years

Text

will you accept this rose?

ch1 of my new jily bachelor au

Read below or on AO3

James never intended to become The Bachelor.

Of course he was looking for love, and of course all the women on these shows were gorgeous and inspiring and amazing, but he liked the idea of old fashioned love. Love found from meet-cutes in restaurants or bars or grocery stores or university classes. Love like his parents, real and deep, fast and almost from first sight. They’d literally collided in the library during finals season at school, Fleamont dropped all of his research on polymers and Euphemia’s political science papers got all mixed in and they fell in love righting the papers.

He’d grown up with parents deeply committed to each other and deeply, sincerely in love. And they loved him just as much. He had grown up supported and adored and utterly spoiled. They supported him choosing to pursue a career in professional football over the much safer engineering degree he’d planned to pursue. They attended every single game he played in, waving banners with his face on them right alongside Sirius and Remus. They had set a standard for him that every relationship he’d had failed to meet.

But after months and months of blind dates and terrible tinder dates and people thinking he’s a catfish on tinder just because he used to be a somewhat famous football player, he’s nearly given up hope. He was researching rescue organizations to get a brother cat for Prongs (he was thinking of naming it Padfoot, had a nice ring) when Sirius walked in and spotted him. Sirius turned on his heel and walked out the instant he realized what he was doing and immediately submitted James to be the next Bachelor.

He got picked. At first he fought Sirius on it, nobody actually finds love on those shows. It's all just trashy reality TV but then Sirius got Euphemia involved and it was essentially settled right then and there.

The response had been overwhelming after the announcement. He’d gained three million Instagram followers within the week and was offered multiple sponsorship deals. His management team was thrilled. The show had reportedly received a record number of applicants from women, all hoping to end the season engaged to him or with a couple million followers and an influencer career all set up.

That first night, it all felt very surreal. He was standing there on the edge of a red carpet in a stiff tux and what felt like hundreds of cameras on him. Sweat pooling in his armpits, waiting for 35 women to appear by limo and introduce themselves and potentially become his wife.

Peter kept trying to tell them that there was no way any relationship with any of these women would last because obviously they wouldn’t be there for the ‘right reasons’. Peter felt that there was no right reason to go onto a reality tv show but he was outvoted as Remus insisted that if anyone was ever going to find love on a reality show, it'd be James.

Each one seemed more amazing and beautiful than the last. There were some he instantly knew he’d want to talk further with and some he knew he’d be fine never speaking with again.

First was Ariana, stunningly gorgeous and tall, olive toned skin perfectly complemented by the sage green dress she wore. She had served in the Air Force for two years before returning home to become a teacher and he felt instantly excited to speak with her and totally intimidated.

Ariana was followed by Layla. She was undoubtedly stunning but kept their conversation very surface level, shaking his hand and saying how excited she was and hoped he was excited as well, and then asked for a hug and tried to feel if he was excited to see her.

Violet showed up riding on a horse which at first felt cool until the lights all spooked the horse and she almost fell off which felt like a near death experience but she played it off casually and sweetly and told him about growing up around animals on her parents farm. She seemed funny and down to earth and had a smile that made his entire chest go numb.

Ava, a cardiologist, instantly made his mouth dry up when he saw her step out of the limo, stunning and confident, navy dress with a daring leg slit that was just enough for a glimpse of her perfect dark skin to peek out through. She brought him an anatomically correct plush heart and asked him to keep it as a representation of her own heart and keep it safe. It was one of the cutest introductions so far and he instantly knew he’d want to spend some time speaking with her tonight.

It felt ridiculously unreal and just bizarre. All completely beautiful and mostly genuine seeming, with careers ranging from actual Runway Models to YouTube vloggers to doctors and financial professionals. It really just felt… awkward and stilted. He was meeting the most engaging and impressive women in the world but the whole thing just felt so stale and staged.

Until, that is, Lily. The limo pulled up and instantly all he saw was red. Long milky leg peeking out from the leg slit of her deep red sparkly dress that clung to every single beautiful curve. Her head was tilted down as she got out and he watched as her heel twisted in her dress as she got out, causing her to instantly stumble and trip as she tried to stand.

“Ah fuck it all ,fucking hell” she swore as she tumbled out, grabbing the door for balance and nearly falling on her face.

He raced over to help her up, her long red hair swinging between them. She flipped her hair back and tucked in behind her ear as he reached down to take her hand and meet her eyes and oh my god her eyes were perfect her face was perfect she was perfect and now his mouth was dry.

“Hi! I’m Lily,” she smiled up at him, righting herself but not stepping back anymore, less than a few inches between their faces. Close enough he could smell her, something warm and vanilla, and completely perfect.

“James,” he choked out, the word croaking as he cleared his throat.

“Should we um… move over there?” She gestured to the carpeted foot of the stairs where he’d stood to greet every other guest.

“Oh, yeah probably.” He led them there at one, hands clasped together.

“So um, I’m Lily Evans, I guess you could say I’m falling for you?” she cringed as she said it, visibly flushing.

“It seems like you’d be used to falling.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, “are you saying I look clumsy?”

“No, erm I just mean like. You fell right then and also it seems like you uh fell from heaven?”

He could feel Sirius laughing at him already. Lily just smiled lightly, looking him up and down. “Well, I guess I’ll be going inside now. Very nice to meet you.”

“You too, Lily.” His hand instantly shot into his hair as he watched her walk away.

That was different.

#jily #jily fic #james potter #lily evans #jilytho

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bitters-enthusiast · 3 years

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birthday fic but belated

@timmys-and-scribbles i love you and i am sorry in advance if this is long and cheesy but

1. that’s julian and

2. that’s just showbiz babey

happy belated birthday bestie i hope you enjoy

“No, you don’t understand! Please, I’ll-- I’ll beg on my knees if I have to!”

Julian could be seen, and probably heard, from a block away pleading a poor man operating a gondola on the canal, and it didn’t look much like the man was giving in to him either.

The man shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. “You-- you don’t have to get on your knees. But I still can’t do it, I’m sorry. It’s too short notice.”

The sob that came from the redhead next was anything but subtle, and he shoved his face in his hands. “Please. Please, sir, everyone else has cancelled on me. Don’t you want to be the minority?? Wouldn’t that be a more interesting story for you?? Please, I’ll pay double, I just need this ride tonight. It doesn’t have to be all night, even just an hour if I could--”

The gondola rower rolled his eyes. The dramatics were a bit much, but Julian had good selling points. “Fine! Fine, if it means you’ll leave me alone and I can get back to work, I’ll do it for double.”

Julian almost screamed in excitement, and grabbed the man by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake, beaming a smile from ear to ear. “Thank you! Thank you, you’ve saved me. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few hours!”

After having shaken this man nearly to death, Julian decided it was time to start grocery shopping. If he was going to plan the perfect dinner for his perfect partner in crime, he wanted to have the perfect ingredients. After all, a pirate couldn’t ask someone to court him if he didn’t at least offer food and drink. . . right?

He didn’t want to stress about it. This day was already a long time coming, but every time he thought he’d worked up the courage, he found it all lost again when Julianne teased him, or plotted with him another sneaky escapade. This woman definitely, without realizing, always kept him on his toes. And he wanted to return the favor, at least for tonight. Besides, a fun date never hurt anybody, even if he didn’t wind up asking her to be his girlfriend.

The doctor spent about an hour or so shopping around for a dinner worth remembering. It took some time thinking of recipes he knew from the top of his head, but he settled on something fond from his childhood. Something Mazelinka almost always made, and almost everyone always liked it: soup. You couldn’t go wrong with a perfect soup dish paired with bread. Plus, looking for fresh ingredients and bartering with the merchants kept his mind off of the pent up anxiety he was feeling about everything. At least a dinner he was making by himself couldn’t be cancelled last minute.

He’d finally settled on everything he needed, and was beginning to head back to the ship. He was carelessly swinging his bags back and forth, whistling a merry little tune to keep him in high spirits.

The high spirits lasted all of five minutes to keep his mind off his worries.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Julianne, speaking to a familiar baker about eating some lunch. She was ordering some food when she caught him out of the corner of her eye, and excitedly called him over.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She wouldn’t notice the bags, right? Of course she’d notice the bags. But he could just pass it off as stuff for the crew! Or maybe he could just pretend as if he didn’t see her--

Of course he couldn’t do that.

Awkwardly, he put his arms behind his back, the bags hanging over them. He gave a strange smile and headed toward Juli, giving a head nod of acknowledgement.

“Heyyyyyyyy... how are, uh-- whatcha up to?”

The woman raised a brow, a smile on her lips as she had just finished joking with the baker. “I’m........ ordering food. Why are you being weird?”

Uh oh.

Julian gave a dismissive ‘psh”, his face turning into an expression of confusion. “I’m not being weird. You’re weird for asking that, Juli. Anyway, what’s on the menu? What’s, uh, what’s for lunch?”

Julianne immediately knew something was up, but she wouldn’t press him about it until later. For now, she’d give him a bit of a hard time about it to see if he’d spill. “Food. Looks like,” she leaned over a bit, just a small part of his groceries in view, “you also have food on the menu.”

He leaned the opposite way, trying to make the bags less noticeable from her angle. “Oh. Oh! These, right. Yeah, Cap sent me out for errands today. You know those men, uh, always hungry! Yeah, can’t go forever without snacking, even if there’s only four of them on ship!”

A small laugh came from Juli. Yeah, she’d have to find out later. “Right. Well, I have to go eat before I go back to my own errands. Would you like to join?”

Why’d she have to be so sweet?? It made him all the more nervous, and he wasn’t being a very convincing actor at the moment. “Oh, I wish I could, darling! But Cap has been on my ass this morning about staying on task! We all know how, um, fleeting time is! I’ve gotta go, don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later on board, right?”

Her eyebrow still raised, she adjusted her own bag and nodded. “Ri--”

“Okay! Perfect! Amazing, and even perfect, you could say. Oh. Wait, I said perfect twice. Anyway, farewell! See you tonight.”

Juli watched as Julian walked away backward, still trying to hide his groceries. As he finally got further away, he tried turning away quickly to take off running, but accidentally bumped into a busy woman passing by. He apologized promptly and profusely, making sure she was at least okay before taking off again.

Yeah, he was up to something.

It finally had gotten darker outside, the sun setting as Julian strode back toward the boat. After a few hours, he had prepared dinner, finalized the gondola plans, and had even set up an nice surprise afterward to make sure everything was picture perfect. As if he hadn’t used the word ‘perfect’ to describe what he was going for all day. With his hands in his pockets, he’d finally settled down on his way back toward the ship, fairly confident in how the night would go.. at least for now.

As he got closer to his familiar home of sorts, excited to meet Julianne and to get the night started after all this planning he’d done, Julian stops aboard the ramp of the ship, watching as Juli was mid-conversation with his crewmate and co-captain, Gerard.

Damn it. Here we go.

Forcing a smile, he stepped closer to hear their conversation.

A hearty laugh came from the crewmate, one that sounded incredibly devious to Julian’s desperate ears. “He really lied to your face like that, Miss Juli? Ah, you know I’d never treat you that way~”

Shut up. Shut up, Gerry. Not tonight.

Julianne would have been seen to smirk, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that he lied maliciously. I’ll still get him back for lying. But I know he’s doing something behind my back. I’m just confused as to what it is.”

Gerard leaned back against the rail of the ship, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Still. You know, it’s taken him far too long to commit to you. Maybe it’s time you give the ol’ captain a try. I,” a puff of his chest, and he placed his hand upon his heart, “wouldn’t have made you wait this long for me to meet up after lying to you, maiden.”

It was taking everything in Julian to not barge into their conversation immediately. The confidence he’d built on the way back was slowly diminishing, but he’d wait a few more seconds to see where this conversation went.

“Co-captain, Gerard.” Julianne shook her head in amusement, also taking a seat on a nearby barrel. Might as well make herself comfortable as she waited. “How would Zora feel if she heard you giving yourself all the credit?”

“Hopefully very, very awfully.” Gerard chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “But my point remains. See how he still isn’t here? That just proves my--”

If Julian wasn’t known for dramatic entrances, then the sky wasn’t known to be blue. As if on cue, interrupting Gerard as he tried to make his “point” was easy as pie for Julian, and he climbed aboard with the biggest, most confident grin he could muster to save face. “Julianne, my love!” He greeted as if she were the biggest and most important guest he could ever serve, stepping between the two to swoop her into a hug. “I’m terribly sorry it took me so long to get back! I got caught in a scuffle between two men arguing, and you know I can’t resist a good fight.” The last lines were said between almost-gritted teeth, and Julianne pulled away from his hug reluctantly.

Like her expression was before at the marketplace, she had her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Is that so? They didn’t happen to also be the ones to eat your snacks, were they?”

Gerard chuckled from behind, making himself comfortable both physically and in conversation. “I’d say Ilyushka has a bit of a hole to dig himself out of here, hmm?”

Begrudgingly, Julian turned to look at Gerard with the same forced smile.

“Don’t you have a hole to dig yourself into, co-captain? Go find some buried treasure.”

A laugh from the man, as well as a clever reply, “Ah, but why would I go search for one when there’s one perfectly right before my eyes?” He flashed a smile in Julianne’s direction, and then gave an innocent, seemingly curious head tilt to Julian. “Oh, unless you couldn’t see that for yourself. It seems that eyepatch gets in the way of you looking past yourself and seeing what’s in front of you.”

The smirk began to fall from the redhead’s face, and he tried not to ball up a fist onto his friend right about now. In the end, he knew Gerry was teasing, but it didn’t make the blow less hard on his ego.

Julianne wasn’t naive to the tension; she started to make off-topic conversation. “I think Gerard is talking about the wine that Zora brought back after making a deal with the bartender down the street. Something about bringing back some of that Salty Bitters stuff from Vesuvia that you like so much. He wanted to advertise something new.”

“Right. The wine is the treasure I was talking about.” A final chuckle from Gerard and he stood, clapping a hand against Julian’s shoulder. “Save me some dessert, Ilya. You know where my room is. Send her my way.”

“Bye, Gerry. Have a good night.” Julian pulled away slightly, looking his friend up and down.

Gerard gave a hum of triumph, and pulled his hand away. On his way toward the steps downstairs, he gave a final “You know I will.” in reply.

Once he was finally out of view, Julian deemed it safe to turn back to Juli for conversation. “I am.... so, so sorry, Juli. I know you’ve been waiting for a while.”

“I know you heard the conversation with Gerard.” She replied, placing her hands upon his shoulders. “I’ve been here for a whole of ten minutes. You know how he is. Dramatic.”

He gave a soft scoff in return, rolling his eyes. “More than I am sometimes.”

With a laugh, Julianne pulled her hands away, but not before giving him a gentle pat to the face. “Not quite.” Getting up from the seat she’d made herself, she patted down the dirt that’d gotten on her dress from doing so. “Anyway, are you finally done acting weird, or are you going to keep me on my toes.”

“Well.......” Julian gave a shrug, “Hopefully the latter. But not in a bad way, I swear. I do.”

The woman only gave him a pointed glare in response. In defense, he gently took hold of her hand, and began to lead her off the ship.

“Here. Just follow me.”

The doctor had finally gotten Juli all to himself. After all the shenanigans of the day, he could finally wind down and listen to her talk about her day. Her errands, odd customers, the odds and ends of magic that he enjoyed listening to her go on and on about. It was what gave him some sense of normalcy among the absurdity that he endured on the regular. The gondola ride had gone smoothly, and he had definitely given the rower far more than he was worth. If not just for the theatrics and the experience, he hoped that Juli enjoyed it. Maybe she’d grown suspicious of him throughout the day, but he wanted to make it up to her.

They talked about a woman who’d called Julianne in to help cleanse her home, not knowing the “cleanse” wasn’t anything spiritual -- it was because the woman had attempted far too many cleaning spells and caused an overgrowth in weeds in her garden and magic cobwebs in her corners. Julianne had to explain that “cleansing” a house didn’t actually mean to clean it.

How cute. How cute, how cute.

An hour or so had gone by, and after their ride, they both thanked the rower tremendously. They’d even gotten a complimentary bottle of wine and a basket of fruit -- or maybe the rower was being kind since Julian had paid him so handsomely.

Then, he took Julianne back toward the shore.

He had taken hold of her hand and not let go, leading her down the beach close to the docks their ship had stopped on. He was sure she probably thought something odd was going to happen by the end of the night, but he wanted to make sure she enjoyed her time nonetheless.

As they walked, he made soft conversation.

“You know, the ocean is a view I could never get sick of. It’s so beautiful. And when the moonlight hits it just right--” he gave a chef’s kiss of sorts with his free hand.

“I guess that’s a good thing, considering you’re on a ship the majority of your time.” Juli teased, giving him a gentle nudge. “But I think so too. It’s very captivating. Calming, even.”

“Like you, hmm?” Turning his gaze from the ocean to Juli, he gave a wink.

With a fond roll of her eyes, she laughed a little. “You’re still being weird.”

“What? No. This is just regular ol’ Ilya.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

He grinned in turn, a grin full of absolute adoration. It was getting easier to rebuild that confidence from earlier.

They continued their playful banter, all the way up until hey reached a hidden little cove, a tucked away cave of sorts, with a light shining from within. They were far away enough now that the lamps in town seemed like blur now, and Julian preferred it that way for what he had been planning.

Julianne stopped, looking up at her partner with a confused expression. “What’s this?”

He let go of her hand, make sure he didn’t seem as if he were coming off maliciously. They had met, after all, under the guise that he was a murderer on the run. Julian offered one of his grins, the sweet kind, the kind that made you want to follow him into the unknown on an adventure you wouldn’t want to return from.

“Just dinner. You trust me, right? You don’t still think I’m a weirdo?”

“Well. I definitely do.”

A laugh came from Julian, and he just shook his head. He continued forward into the cave, giving her a nod to follow.

She did, and as they entered, a small table Julian had stolen off the ship was sitting in the middle of the cave, lit candles surrounding it in the sand below to keep light inside. On the table sat dinner: two bowls covered to stay warm, bread on either side of them, a great big glass of wine in the center of the table, and two glasses for one each.

With a great big swoop of his arm, he gestured toward the set up with a smile.

“Well, here’s the thing I was acting strange about. I just wanted... to set up something nice for the both of us.”

After her jaw had dropped at the initial shock, Juli turned to the man with a growing smile, and she genuinely looked impressed. “I’m surprised you could keep a secret this long.” Although she teased, she found his dinner setup rather charming. Nothing short of the extravagance he made for himself since the day she met him.

He continued forward once more, pulling one of the chairs out for her to sit. Once she was seated, he also took a seat, and began to pour them each a glass of wine to drink.

“Also, I stole this wine. This is the one Zora brought back, and Gerard is probably looking for now. Serves him right trying to steal my thunder.”

The woman laughs, reaching for her glass once it’s filled. “They’re going to kill you.”

He shrugged yet again, his signature smirk puling at his lips. “Worth it, if not just for the thrill of the escape.”

As Julian reached to uncover the bowls, a warm, earthy and flavorful aroma takes over the cave, and he explains his escapade to gather ingredients. Making the food proved to be a pain, having to bribe the ship’s cook to let him take over the kitchen to prepare their food, and to help him set everything up while he was out on the gondola ride with Julianne. He talked about how he now owed the cook kitchen duty for a week, and had to scrub the inside of the old hearth to make up for it. But it was worth it for him, to see how much she enjoyed his childhood favorite food. All the more memories to create, even if it was just soup.

Throughout dinner, it seemed as though Julian had about finished off the bottle of wine by himself. He was getting a little tipsy, and a bit more nervous toward the end of them eating. If only he had more liquid courage to help him out.

Julianne noticed how awkward he’d begun to get as dinner went on. When they finally cleared their bowls, he started going on about the importance of the correct shoes in acting. Something was up.

She reached for his hands, which were getting ready to pour the last few drops of alcohol into his glass.

“Ilya, tell me what’s the matter.” Her voice was soft compared to his big, velvety tone. He couldn’t help himself, not in this state of mind.

“I- no, nothing’s the matter! I’m just saying, how can you frolic about in a tunic and boots? Sure they look great for the aesthetic and for the costume, but you need the smaller and more rounded shoes to move around the stage more fleetly.”

“You’re talking about shoes, Julian, after we just had a nice dinner in a fancy set up in a remote cave.” She laughed a little at the situation, and gave his hands a little squeeze. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She was right. And he knew that she was. He hadn’t spent all day preparing for this moment to talk about how quick your movements need to be on stage. He had put all of this off long enough. Hell, for months. He was surprised she’d even stuck around that long, unless she thought this was all totally platonic.

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, there-- there is something I have on my mind.” He let out a slow sigh, mentally preparing himself for his little speech. He knew that she would listen to every word, even if he slurred and stuttered his way through it. Her touch gave him a bit of sobering up, and in turn, he moved his hands to grab hers instead, leaning in closer to her presence.

“I.. hm. I’ve known you for quite a while now. And, for some reason, it feels like I’ve known you far longer than the several months we’ve been adventuring together. I don’t even know if that’s what you’d call it-- never mind. Regardless, darling, it feels like I’ve known you longer than a lifetime. Like I’ve known you since a life too distant to remember. And you... Julianne, you just seem so familiar. You met me thinking that I was a murderer. A fugitive. And even then, even after you thought I was using you, you stuck. You stuck with me. Up until then, I struggled so hard to find something like home. You gave me a chance, and I can tell you haven’t regretted it thus far. I just... don’t ever want to have to just remember you again. I want you to stick around. You’re perfect to be around. My perfect adventuring find. My... my perfect partner. We’ve never made any official call for what this is, and... I know this is all so ridiculous and grandiose and seems like some sort of proposal. In... in a way, it is. I just--” he lets his head fall, and he takes a pause, before he looked back up into Julianne’s face. “Please, little dove, would you give a pirate a chance and just call yourself mine already?”

...

Julianne, flustered, and unsure of how to respond in the immediate moment, searched Julian’s eyes for his genuine feelings. It was a long search -- after all, he’d just poured his onto the table, practically. This wasn’t at all a surprise, they had in fact been in some rut of infatuation without ever having admitted it to one another. It was always just implied. But here they were now, Julian basking in all of his monologuing glory...

Before she could respond, he was quick to make a joke, giving her hands a squeeze as she did his before he had come clean. “Plus, now I’m less likely to get in trouble for starting a fight with Gerard, seeing as how we’d be an official couple rather than just flirting, fleeting friends.”

Julianne shook her head, letting it fall as she let out a laugh. “You... are quite simply the most unbearable person I’ve ever met. In the best way possible.” Looking back up, he simply gave a friendly and teasing shrug in response, and she leaned in to seal the space between them with a kiss.

It wasn’t long before it grew passionate, one full of longing and hope from both of them. It would be hard for Julian to pull away, had he not been wait for a response. Before he let the kiss get carried away, he pulled back, a hand pressed to Juli’s face.

“So?”

She looked him in the eyes, lifted a hand toward his face, and promptly gave him a flick to the nose.

“Ow!?” His brow furrowed, “What was that for??”

“For lying to my face earlier. I just needed you to know I didn’t forget.”

A huffy laugh came from the redhead as he reached to rub at his nose, now stinging slightly in pain. “Alright. Noted.”

She offered a final, soft smile, reaching to gently swipe her thumb over his nose in comfort. The woman then reached in for a soft peck. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Ilya. Or rather, your co-captain.”

Julian beamed taking her face into both of his hands. “Oh, I’m so glad. As co-captain, can your first duty be to teach me an adjective other than ‘perfect’? I’m a doctor, not a novelist.”

“Sure. But only if you teach me one rather than ‘weird’,” Juli offered in reply.

“Good, good. But uh, can we wait until after dessert?”

“Didn’t Gerard ask you to save him some?”

“Oh, no. Gerry can starve. I’m sneaking dessert back into my room.”

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic, Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, MINORS BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: This chapter is angsty as fuck and there’s quite a lot of references to death. Aizawa wishes he was dead etc

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 14/16 (all chapters)

15-ISH YEARS AGO

KREEK

Shouta stretched his hand upwards and grabbed onto the fabric, using his legs and fist to get a firm hold before climbing higher. His hands were bandaged and worn, the capture device stained with blood, but he pushed himself harder and faster, grimacing at the friction against his broken skin.

It ended as it always did. He stretched too high and the hand he had used to secure his weight buckled under the strain. He lost his grip and plummeted to the safety mats piled across the floor, the capture device slipping from his hands.

Hizashi winced at the sound of his body hitting the mats. He knew they were designed to break falls, but had used them often enough himself to know how much they still hurt.

Shouta repositioned himself at his original starting position and reached for the fabric, the same determined expression across his face that he always wore, no matter how many times he landed on his face.

KREEK

Hizashi watched as he took hold of the fabric and tightened his grip before reaching higher, slower this time, a telltale sign that he had cut his hand again. He sipped his soda, taking in the sweat that layered Shouta’s forehead, the blood on his lips from where he had bitten too hard.

The first few months after Shirakumo’s death had passed slowly: a haze of visits to the guidance counsellor that eventually faded into one. He remembered very few individual details of that time and they assured him it was normal, even if it felt anything but.

He remembered the whisper of rainfall; remembered the way it had soaked his hair. He remembered his mother grabbing his face in her hands and begging him to say something...anything and slowly realising not only was she crying, but he didn’t remember coming home.

After several months of counselling, both after school and during free periods, he had adjusted to a life without Shirakumo in it. A year had passed now and it still hurt, but he no longer had a knee jerk response to his empty desk or the mention of his name. No one handled him gently anymore. They didn’t choose their words carefully as if afraid he might explode.

Shouta was different.

He didn’t go to any of the guidance counsellor’s appointments. He slept through class, he stopped studying. He had the same glassy look in his eyes Hizashi had when he returned home, only the light never really returned. He continued to come to school though committed to none of it, as if it wasn’t real and he wasn’t there, simply passing through a dream.

He had never been a chatty sort of person, but Hizashi felt his silence now more than ever. Any time he brought up Shirakumo it was like he’d poked a bruise, which in many senses he supposed he had.

He didn’t remember when exactly Shouta had started booking out the gym, only that he had been following him there for the past three months. He positioned himself in the doorway, back straight against the frame, finishing up his homework and pretending he wasn’t there.

Shouta didn’t speak about Shirakumo. He didn’t speak about that day. Instead he bled through bandages and skipped meals.

He made it only a quarter of the way up the rope this time, slipping on a part of the fabric that was still slick with blood before toppling back to the mats. He didn’t get up, instead sprawling across the mats as exhaustion finally caught up with him. His chest heaved, his eyes blurred with tears.

“Shit,” he murmured at first, though his voice grew louder as he got to his feet. “ Shit !!”

Hizashi got to his feet when Shouta did, taking a moment to perfect a convincingly wide smile before stepping forwards.

“Say, Sho,” he said, as Shouta wobbled on his feet. “I brought you something!”

Shouta turned to him, gaze drifting from his smile to the bottle of water in his hand.

“Look, I filled it up at the water fountain,” said Hizashi, holding it out. “It’s all nice and cold and refreshing!”

Shouta reached out to accept it with a nod of thanks before downing it in one. Hizashi watched, wringing his hands, pretending he didn’t see the tears in his eyes. It never ended well when he acknowledged them.

“Listen,” he said, “I was talking to some of the girls and we were thinking of going to the movies t-”

“I’ll pass.”

“Are you sure? They’re showing vintage movies! Beast Man vs-”

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

Shouta passed him the empty bottle and turned back towards the mats, stretching out his arms and legs ahead of the exertion.

“You know…” Hizashi started, willing himself to speak, “the reason we’re going...it’s because it’s been a year...since…”

Shouta froze in place, still in the process of stretching.

Say something, Hizashi willed himself, though if he meant it for himself or Shouta he wasn’t sure.

Say something.

SAY SOMETHING.

“I’ll pass,” said Shouta at last, relaxing his body and walking back to the rope.

Hizashi watched, squeezing the empty water bottle until the plastic began to buckle.

“I, uh,” he said, smile fading, “I’ll get you some more water!”

“Don’t need it.”

He went anyway, closing the door to the gymnasium with a sigh and pressing his back against it. He stared down at the water bottle in his hands, at the condensation coating his fingers and the plastic, before squeezing his eyes shut.

~~~~~~

PRESENT

“We’re going to take a short break now, listeners! Take the time to get yourselves a glass of water and hydrate! It’s good for the skin, ya know?”

He muted his microphone and queued up several tracks before switching on his phone to check his social media. Sometimes his listeners posted questions or sent him interesting articles while he was on air, which made for good talking points when he returned.

He raised an eyebrow when well over a dozen missed calls and voicemails came through in swift succession. He scrolled through them, heart sinking when he realised most of them were from you. Ordinarily he would have been happy to hear from you, but it was difficult under present circumstances.

He wondered if this was it; if you were calling him to announce you and Shouta were finally a couple. He had been on the edge of his seat ever since Nemuri confirmed she had successfully gotten you to go in her stead, waiting for the inevitable.

His finger hovered over your name and his stomach churned. He wondered how you would break the news.

He took a deep breath and opened up the voicemail, preparing himself for the worst.

He had expected for you to be happy and laughing, every word overflowing with joy at this new development in your life. His blood ran cold, though, at the reality.

There wasn’t a shred of happiness in your voice, only desperation. You sounded drunk, as if enunciating every syllable took every ounce of strength you had.

Hizashi...I don’t know when you’ll get this...but something’s happening at the camp. I think it’s the League of Villains...they’re here! They have one of the creatures from USJ. Please, even if you can’t call me back, let the authorities know!

He got up from his chair and loaded up your next voicemail with shaking hands.

Your words were even slower this time.

Hizashi. When you get this, please call me, okay? There are three villains here so far and one of them is Moonfish. The students don’t know. They’re in danger!

He had heard of Moonfish. Everyone had. The details surrounding his arrest were considered too gruesome for public knowledge, so naturally everyone knew them.

He wondered how you could possibly have known Moonfish was present without seeing him; how you could have gotten close to one of the USJ creatures without being seen yourself.

He loaded the third and final voicemail, praying you were about to tell him you were fine, that you had gotten to safety and the pros were dealing with it. He swore he’d forgive you if it turned out to be a prank.

He sank to the floor, though, when you finally began to speak.

Hizashi, I think...I’m dying. Everything’s going dark. When you get this, please, just remember this address. Give it to the police...it’s-

Your phone cut out then and for a second he couldn’t breathe.

“No, no, no,” he said, frantically going through his phone in search of another voicemail, anything from you, any proof you were alive.

You hadn’t called him after that. You had sent him multiple text messages of the same address, though nothing after that final voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said, dialling your number and chewing his thumbnail as it began to ring.

Your phone did ring, though no one answered.

It lay forgotten in the corner of an ambulance.

~~~~~

TICK

TOCK

TICK

TOCK

Shouta stared blankly at the clock on the wall, thoughts fuzzy and mouth dry. He couldn’t settle on a singular train of thought, staring into space even as the doctor lifted a pen torch and shone it in his eye.

Due in part to its remote location, the incident in the forest was an even bigger rescue effort than the Hosu attack not long before it. Police and medical teams were called in from all nearby cities, the former spending the night scouring the woods for stragglers and forensic evidence while the latter tended to the wounded. Several interns from Musutafu’s own hospitals were shipped in to join the effort and, while the more experienced doctors tended to the critically wounded, they checked for broken bones and signs of trauma, ran errands and lab tests for their superiors and in some cases even offered up an extra pair of hands during the more complicated procedures.

The moment he arrived at the hospital, Shouta was sent for a onceover by one such doctor, who was dressed in the tell tale embroidered scrubs of Musutafu’s university hospital. He introduced himself briskly before running through a few basic tests on his motor functions and rapid fire questions about his overall health.

Shouta barely remembered getting to the hospital. He couldn’t think of anything other than your bloody lips. Vlad had had to hold him back when the EMTs arrived because he had tried to stop them, convinced beyond reason that they would injure you further. He had a sneaking suspicion that that was why they had assigned such a freakishly tall doctor to give him a onceover.

Someone knocked at the door and the doctor slipped his pen torch back inside of his pocket.

“Come in,” he called out, getting up to reach for his clipboard as Tsukauchi let himself into the room and gave the young doctor a polite bow. Shouta noticed his eyes lit up when he saw the doctor’s name tag, though didn’t question it.

“Good evening,” said Tsukauchi, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“It’s fine,” said the doctor, “I’m finished here.”

He turned to Shouta with the telltale stern expression of medics the world over.

“You don’t have any long lasting injuries,” he said, “but it’s crucial you rest.”

Tsukauchi laughed under his breath as the doctor gave him a nod and dismissed himself from the room.

“How are the students?” Shouta asked, thinking of the fear in their eyes.

He had arrived at the hospital long after them, when both the police and pro heroes at the scene agreed to postpone the search for Ragdoll until daybreak. What’s more, due to his own admission and examination, he hadn’t had the chance to properly check in on them, which he bitterly regretted. They needed familiar faces at a time like this, someone in a position of authority who knew what they needed to hear.

They needed you at a time like this.

“(Name),” said Shouta. “Is she…”

The last time he had seen you was when the EMTs bundled you into an air ambulance and no one had been able to give him an update since. Tsukauchi’s face fell at the mention of you and he instantly feared the worst.

“She’s in critical condition,” he said at last, choosing his words carefully. “The last I heard, they were still operating on her. Actually...that’s why I came to speak to you.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke to Vlad,” he said. “He tells me you received a text message from her before…well.”

Shouta stiffened, remembering the multiple messages that had come through the moment he returned to the classroom; messages you had almost certainly typed with bloody fingers.

“I wanted to ask,” said Tsukauchi, “this address...does it have any personal significance to her?”

“She conducted interrogations with you after USJ,” said Shouta. “You’ve seen her quirk in action. Surely you understand its value as intel?”

“I do,” he said, “but…”

He paused, both of them knowing what he meant to say.

People did strange things on the brink of death. Perhaps that address had nothing to do with the attack, but a deeper significance.

“It’s intel,” he said, refusing to accept the alternative. “We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” said Tsukauchi, getting up from his chair and giving him a polite nod. “We’ve postponed taking statements until tomorrow morning. Rest up for now. The doctors will have my head if you don’t.”

Shouta watched him leave, before leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes.

TICK

TOCK

TICK

Shouta...I need to talk to you.

TOCK

We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.

TICK

TOCK

It’s crucial you rest.

At some point, though he didn’t know when, he had convinced himself that you would be awake by sunrise.

In a few hours you would be able to tell them what happened to Ragdoll. You could tell them the significance of the address.

He couldn’t rest until then.

~~~~~

You weren’t awake by sunrise. As a matter of fact, you were still in surgery and blissfully unaware of the chaos erupting around you.

You were asleep when the hospital called not only your next of kin but those of the first year students; you were on the operating table when All Might and Nezu received the news.

You didn’t find out until much later about Bakugo’s kidnapping, nor the true extent of the damage.

You never found out about Nezu’s immediate safety protocol to slow the inevitable hordes of press. While Nemuri and Hizashi had both received missed calls and knew about the incident, they were instructed to continue as if nothing had changed. Nemuri returned to her television interview, a fresh layer of makeup to disguise the fact that she had sobbed in the bathroom ten minutes beforehand. Hizashi greeted his listeners and continued to play tracks, though his happy tone didn’t meet his eyes and he took far fewer chat breaks than normal. Every time the music faded, he listened to your voicemails, wondering if that would be the last time he ever heard your voice.

You had no idea Shouta spent the night wandering the corridors and checking in on his students, calling your number whenever he was alone. He never left a message, just listened to the joy in your voice.

Hello, this is (Name). I’m not around at the moment, please leave a message!

He didn’t want to think about what you had actually said to him before being taken away.

...it’s unfair...unfair...un...fair.

What was unfair?

That the first year students had faced so much danger so soon?

That you had most likely sustained such a serious wound trying to help the investigation?

That your body lay bruised and broken and not-

He thought of body bags and bloodied gravel before he could stop himself; another body at a different time. He dug his nails into his palms, into well worn scars and calluses, and dialled your number again.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before journalists caught wind of the blood in the water and flocked to UA for answers. Much like the Hosu incident, Nezu summoned several of the remaining members of the faculty to discuss recent events. Not only was there a lot of ground to cover and decisions to be made, but very little time to do so.

Everyone was restless for different reasons; Nemuri picked at her nails, Hizashi toed the floor with his boot, All Might fidgeted in his seat. The only remotely composed one was Nezu, though every so often his gaze drifted to the newspapers in front of him.

“We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow,” he said, thoughtfully. “After Aizawa and Vlad have given their statements, I’ll brief them on a plan of action. For now it’s important we cooperate with the police and prepare for the worst case scenario.”

“This is my fault,” said All Might. “I should have never come to UA this year.”

“This isn’t the time for blame,” said Nezu. “Right now we must deal with the immediate problems at hand. The students will require not only medical care but a full psychological review before they return to classes next semester… we will have to organise a replacement counsellor.”

Everyone grew tense at that.

“Temporary,” said Hizashi.

“Hm?”

“ Temporary counsellor, not a replacement. We have a perfectly good one already.”

Nezu sighed.

“(Name) suffered heavy blood loss and remains in critical condition,” he said. “You must forgive me for taking into account the worst case scenario. If (Name) survives…”

“She will.”

“... if she survives, it will be at least a month before she returns to her duties. We’ll need a replacement until she is recovered.”

Hizashi shook his head at the mental image alone of your injuries. You should have been there with them, not bleeding out on an operating table.

“Don’t misunderstand my actions,” said Nezu, far more gently than before, “I don’t want to entertain the idea of losing one of our own either. It’s not something I take lightly. I’m wishing for (Name)’s recovery as much as any one of you, but we should not ignore the facts. We cannot allow UA to fall. We cannot allow our society to fall into chaos. Her sacrifice and that of so many others must not be in vain.”

~~~~~~

While Nezu and the other teachers discussed tactics, Shouta and Vlad were at the police station and arguably just as tense. It certainly didn’t help matters that the room Tsukauchi had chosen to take their statements was just as silent and sterile as the hospital, a fact he tried to downplay by offering them strong coffee and a sympathetic ear.

Vlad stole glances at Aizawa as he described the events of the night before, taking in the ever present bags under his eyes. He had gone through not one but three cups of black coffee since their arrival with no sign of slowing down any time soon. Vlad knew all too well that Aizawa was a night owl, but today it stood out to him in ways it never had before.

He remembered the way you had knocked at Aizawa’s bedroom door; your bright blush and panicked expression when he caught you. He remembered your conversation at breakfast the day before- how desperate you had been to talk to him.

There was only one rational explanation for both your behaviour and Aizawa’s own, an explanation that up until recently he had found interesting, though now struck him as tragic.

He wondered how composed he would have been in Aizawa’s position. He didn’t have a lover and couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find one on the brink of death. He wondered what it was you meant to say to Aizawa that day.

As Tsukauchi stepped out of the room to speak to his subordinate, Vlad stared into his own neglected cup of coffee, wanting to break the awkward silence but unsure how to do so. This wasn’t the time for idle chit chat or jokes, but he was tired of talking about the incident.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “for back then.”

Seeing you hurt had shaken Aizawa so badly that Vlad had had to hit him in the face to bring him even slightly back to earth. He felt guilty for it, especially as Aizawa was clearly suffering the ill effects of a panic attack, but in that moment he had little choice. You weren’t dead yet but you would be if they didn’t act quickly and he wasn’t capable of giving both of you his undivided attention.

“S’fine,” said Aizawa before downing the remnants of his fourth plastic cup of coffee. “It was the best course of action under the circumstances. I would have done the same.”

Vlad chuckled under his breath, knowing he absolutely would.

Tsukauchi returned to the room a matter of seconds later, clutching a file under his arm and grinning widely. It was as if he had had a new lease of life and Vlad was more than a little intrigued about what had caused it.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, as if he had been gone for an hour as opposed to a few minutes. “There’s been a development.”

He sat back down and opened up the file, revealing a typed report and black and white photographs of a shabby building.

“I had my team run a check on the address (Name) sent out,” he said, pushing one of the photographs across the table. “It’s a building in Kamino ward, mostly abandoned. A while ago, one of my team investigated a tip off about suspicious looking people in that area, though ultimately it didn’t amount to much of anything because there was far too much ground to cover. Among the witness statements was a description of a man with a patchwork face.”

Aizawa tensed, realisation sinking in.

“You mean…”

“I think,” said Tsukauchi, “that the patchwork faced man in this report is the same one you encountered at the lodge. The address (Name) sent so many times…”

“It’s their lair,” said Vlad. “It’s got to be.”

Aizawa rubbed his temples, face crumpling with the smallest of smiles.

“What are you planning to do next?” said Vlad. “If this really is the lair of the League of Villains…that’s where we’ll find Katsuki Bakugou.”

“We need to think carefully before we act,” said Tsukauchi. “If we attack too slowly, they’re more likely to shift bases, especially after making such a dramatic move. That said, if we move too quickly and without all of the facts...it could be dangerous for all involved.”

He laughed under his breath and turned to Aizawa.

“You were right,” he said. “This is valuable intel.”

“You can thank her when this is over.”

Tsukauchi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew all too well that there was every chance he’d be thanking your gravestone instead of you.

“I will.”

~~~~~

“Nemuri?”

Hizashi turned away from the desk.

“Nemuri? Where did you go?”

Instead of attending the emergency staff meeting, Recovery Girl had gone to the hospital, where her efforts were most needed. She kissed away broken bones and bruises and greeted more than her fair share of distraught parents, as well as scolding any badly injured students she happened to catch out of bed.

She also took the opportunity to update Nezu on the state of the injured, from the ill effects of gas to who was conscious and who would need a little longer to recover. She was the first to know when you were released from surgery; the first to pass on the message that you had been moved to the ICU.

Nemuri, Hizashi and All Might had immediately insisted on visiting the wards, all three overwhelmed with guilt. If All Might or Nemuri had been present, the night might have ended differently.

All Might turned down any offer of a ride to the hospital, instead making a pit stop to catch up with Tsukauchi, leaving Nemuri and Hizashi to arrive without him. It was a decision that paid off in the long run, for nobody recognised the pair in their civilian clothes as they would the Symbol of Peace.

After they showed their hero licenses at the front desk, the receptionist had picked up the phone to call in for someone to escort them to your room and somehow, in the middle of everything, Nemuri had disappeared.

Hizashi wondered if she’d gone to the washroom, only for his heart to sink when he saw her.

She was standing outside of the gift shop, staring into the glassy eyes of simultaneously the tallest and ugliest teddy bear he had ever seen.

Hizashi left the reception desk and walked towards her, eying up the bear.

“Thinking of treating yourself?” he asked, prompting her to sigh and fold her arms.

“I’ve never understood it,” she said.

“Teddy bears?”

“No. Gift shops in hospitals. Who would want a souvenir of something like this?”

“It’s not only bad stuff that happens here.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel that way.”

He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and no one could have predicted this, but it felt hypocritical.

“I promise,” he said, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, “something good will come out of this. Somehow, in ways we don’t know about yet. In the future we’ll look back on today and...well, maybe not laugh, but smile at least.”

“If that ever happens, I’m buying this bear.”

~~~~~~

Your room was in a secluded area of the hospital, far from the prying eyes of not only the public, but injured students. Nezu had insisted on it, for the scope of your injuries were not public knowledge and certainly not known to the students. They had not seen you taken away in an ambulance, nor had they seen you pinned to a tree. They had been told you suffered injuries, but nothing that would add to the trauma of that night.

Perhaps it was the echo of their footsteps against the floor, combined with the sterile walls and shapeless furniture, but it felt like they were entering forbidden territory.

“In here,” said the nurse, tapping at one of the doors a couple of times before guiding them inside.

Hizashi had tried to prepare himself for the worst. He had listened to your voicemails, imagination twisting and turning. Nothing, though, prepared him for what greeted him on the other side.

You looked small , tubes connecting you to multiple machines and cuts and bruises still visible underneath the oxygen mask. Perhaps the worst part of it all was how peaceful you looked, just the same as you had when you had rested in his arms, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt with his face on. Back then he could think of nothing worse than waking you; he had held himself so still that he had a crick in his neck for days afterwards.

He would have given anything to go back. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have nudged you awake and chatted the night away. He would have offered up that round two, taking you so hard in the bathtub that water spilled out and soaked the tiles. He would have kissed you at your kitchen table instead of saying he didn’t want you as you were.

“You okay?”

Nemuri poked him. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bed, setting himself down in the chair beside you and dragging it closer until he could lean over and rest his head against yours, relishing the warmth of your forehead. You weren’t dead. Not yet.

“What do you think she’d say if it was one of us?” said Nemuri, stepping closer and running her fingertips across the back of your hand. “If the roles were reversed and you, me or Eraser were here instead.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

Hizashi sat up and scratched his chin, thinking back to the sports festival, the sushi bar, Les Papilles . He remembered the night of the Hosu incident; the way you had looped your arms around Shouta’s middle; the way you stood up onto your tiptoes; the words that left your lips.

“I have to go,” he said at last, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before getting to his feet.

“But we just got here,” said Nemuri, “why w-”

“There’s something I have to do,” he said, hurrying out of the room. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Nemuri watched him leave, a bewildered expression across her face. She turned back to you, searching for the answers in your sleeping features and ultimately giving up, sinking down into a chair and taking your hand in hers. She stroked your palms and linked her fingers through yours, breathing a heavy sigh at your chipped nail polish.

She reached into her purse and pulled out one of the several bottles she carried everywhere for when she scuffed her own.

“Now then,” she said, unscrewing the lid and stretching out your fingers, “let’s fix you up.”

~~~~~~~

Shouta returned home after leaving the police station, though not out of choice. He wanted to go back to the hospital, but had been advised against doing so, leaving him little choice but to accept the ride.

He understood the logic of it, but spent only about five minutes at home before leaving again. He didn’t go to the hospital, or anywhere the press might be lurking, instead heading for the 24 hour store a couple of blocks from his house. He genuinely did need to stock up on eyedrops, aspirin and cat food. It was a reasonable excuse to be out and about.

He was fine until he got to the counter and happened to notice a display of fresh peaches. Within seconds he remembered Yamanashi- remembered that you had been planning to go.

He came home with two punnets and placed them on his coffee table. He had no intention of eating them, but couldn’t stand the idea of leaving the store without them. In many ways, leaving without them felt like leaving without you.

He laid back on his couch, Sushi taking the chance to curl up on his stomach and purr. Normally this was the perfect recipe for an afternoon nap, but the peaches sat in his peripheral vision and he kept his eyes wide open.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the ceiling, only that Sushi darted under the table at the sound of heavy knocking at the front door. Shouta winced at the sudden, sharp pain of paws digging into his ribs, wondering if the presses had figured out where he lived.

Maybe they’d leave if he stayed still enough.

He ran his fingers over his middle and wondered if he’d bruise, breathing a sigh of relief as the person outside stopped knocking. The peace and quiet didn’t last long, though, for a matter of moments later a key turned in the lock. He jumped to his feet just as quickly as Sushi had and stumbled towards the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall as the intruder stepped inside.

“Sho, are you here?”

It was Hizashi, which retrospectively shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Shouta only had two keys and had given him the spare so that he could feed Sushi while he was away at camp.

“Sho-”

“I’m here.”

Hizashi clutched a hand to his chest, plainly not expecting him to be standing so close.

“Why are you hiding around the corner?”

“I thought you were a journalist.”

“A journalist who has a key ?”

“You never know,” sighed Shouta, turning back to the couch. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to check in on you,” said Hizashi.

“You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Shouta faced him, willing him to leave. He hated the way he was looking at him, as if he deserved any sort of sympathy or pity. He remembered it from high school, after Shirakumo’s funeral and subsequent obituary. He hadn’t deserved pity then, either.

“Well,” he said, raising his arms, “as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, it’s the truth.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Shouta,” said Hizashi, rubbing his temples, “you can lie to me all you want, but stop lying to yourself.”

“What do y-”

“Don’t you see? We’ve been here before,” said Hizashi. “This is what happened to-“

“Don’t say it.”

Shouta didn’t want to hear Shirakumo’s name. Not now. Not ever. Hizashi refused to back down, though.

“You weren’t fine then and you aren’t fine now,” he said, “and I can’t do this again.”

Hizashi squeezed his hands into fists and braced his body. Shouta watched, more than a little bit curious. This was the first time he had ever seen Hizashi so angry and without even the slightest hint of a smile.

“I should have told you back then,” he said, trembling, “but I didn’t...and you were gone for so long …”

“Gone? You mean when I went underground? Before UA?”

“No...yes,” Hizashi turned away and tangled his fingers in his hair. “No. When you started sleeping through the day...when you didn’t pay attention in class anymore…you were gone and it took years for you to come back.”

“I still sleep during the day,” said Shouta, “I don’t-“

“It’s not your fault,” said Hizashi. “It was never your fault. What happened to Shirakumo...what happened to (Name)...it’s not your fault.”

Shouta remembered the rubble; the sound of Shirakumo’s voice in his ear. If he had moved just a little faster...if he had been just a little more aware of his surroundings...

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as if to shake away the memory.

“I wouldn’t understand?” Hizashi laughed in disbelief. “My quirk was one of the ones that killed him, Sho! (Name) wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Wait... what ?”

As far as he knew, (Name) had been a substitute chaperone. What did any of that have to do with Hizashi?

“What do you mean she was there because of you?”

“Nemuri was completely fine,” said Hizashi, “she dropped out so (Name) would go instead…she did it for me . Nemuri should have been there. (Name) should have been home.”

Shouta froze in place, absorbing this new development.

“I know everything,” breathed Hizashi, stepping closer. “I know that you slept with (Name) before any of us met her. I know that you kept it from us to protect her. I know that you pushed her away because you loved her and she let you do it because she loved you too.”

“I…”

Shouta didn't know what to say; he felt exposed.

“Ask me how I know, Eraser,” said Hizashi, grabbing him by the shirt. “Ask me!”

“Hizashi, you’re being-“

“I know because I did too,” said Hizashi, pulling at the fabric between his fingers. “I slept with her too, on the night of the Hosu incident...I didn’t say anything either, but then I found out about Ego and…” he smiled sadly, “you’d be so good together.”

“That’s not something you get to decide.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” said Hizashi. “But you don't either. Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I wouldn’t piece it together? If (Name) was really the girl from Ego ...if you really did care for each other that much...why did she sit there and hit on me ? Could it be that someone had already put the idea in her head ?!”

“Hizash-“

“It’s unfair, Shouta,” said Hizashi, “we’re completely different people, but we both made the same mistake. We both decided we knew better for (Name) and each other without askin’ first.”

Unfair …

Shouta remembered that word crossing your lips and felt sick.

“You shouldn’t punish yourself over this,” said Hizashi, quietly, “don’t offer yourself up as someone else’s scapegoat. If you’re going to blame someone-“

“Why shouldn’t I? You weren’t there. I was,” said Shouta, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “I could have saved her.”

“No, you couldn’t have,” said Hizashi. “Even if you kept her with you, there’s no telling what would have happened.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t! I stayed quiet for years. I pretended I didn’t see because I didn’t know what to do. I-“

“Shut...up…”

“I won’t!” Hizashi cried out, so loudly that the furniture began to rattle. “I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. It wasn’t-“

“Shut up.”

“-your-“

“Stop!”

“-fau-“

Hizashi never got the chance to finish, because Shouta shoved him in one last ditch attempt to get out of his grip, leaving both of them tumbling to the floor, Hizashi landing flat on his back and Shouta taking the chance to straddle his waist.

“Shut up,” said Shouta, taking hold of Hizashi’s collar and squeezing his eyes shut. “Shut...up.”

Hizashi lay perfectly still, watching as one tear landed on him and then another.

“It was my fault...my fault...my fault. How can you say we’d be good together? I don’t deserve to look her in the face. She’s a civilian...I’m a pro.”

He didn’t say what he was thinking, what he had been thinking ever since he and Hizashi stood in the rain well over a decade ago, surrounded by ruined buildings and shattered dreams.

It should have been me.

He had been thinking it since he first saw Shirakumo being taken away in a body bag; he’d been thinking it ever since the EMTs took you away.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” said Hizashi. “What she said on the night of the Hosu incident.”

Shouta squinted, thinking back to then.

He remembered watching as you and Hizashi arrived, both smelling of tangerines. He remembered how angry he had been that evening, how he had decided to sneak in an early morning patrol to burn off both the adrenaline and jealousy. He remembered finding you there in floods of tears and embracing both Hizashi and Nemuri. He remembered what came next.

He had turned to leave, only to hear the clack of heels against the pavement. He knew it was you and didn’t bother to flinch when you stood up onto your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his middle. He remembered peering over his shoulder and into your face, taking in your enormous smile.

Thank you.

What for?

You looked him in the face, determined smile transforming into a gentle one.

Tell me...tonight, with Stain, was there anything more you could have done?

His skin prickled from your quirk, but he didn’t erase it.

No.

He hadn’t expected that to be the answer. He hoped it didn’t show on his face, but it plainly did, for you had giggled and squeezed him harder.

You should be kinder to yourself. No one likes living with a bully.

Shouta stared down at Hizashi, who still hadn’t moved.

“Stop it,” he murmured. He couldn’t stand the idea that you’d forgive him.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, looking down, “if she d-“

“Don’t…”

Hizashi placed his hands over the ones that clutched his collar.

“Shouta,” he said, “she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this. She’d tell you you did your best! The only thing she’d be mad at you for is blaming yourself for something out of your control.”

Shouta couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t stand the way he held onto him; couldn’t stand thinking of him as an anchor.

He couldn’t stand acknowledging he was right.

He had gotten used to bottling his emotions; had accepted his fate of sealing off the cracks. He had resigned himself to squeezing onto them, contorting them and resculpting them to keep them from spilling out, but seeing you had broken the glass and set them free. He felt everything all at once, grief to love to anguish to joy. He couldn’t hold onto any single sensation any more than he could hold water in his hands.

He didn’t want to think about anything; didn’t want to feel anything.

No, that was wrong.

He felt like he was drowning and longed for anything else.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, “say something.”

Shouta’s hands shook. He didn’t know what to say. He never had.

“Say something ,” said Hizashi before falling silent, lips crushed under Shouta’s own.

Hizashi’s lips tasted of tears, though whose Shouta couldn’t say. He wished he could stop time and absorb every detail: the softness of Hizashi’s lips and sweet scent of his hair; the tickle of his moustache; the warmth of his breath as the shock faded and both of them realised what was happening.

Shouta sat up with a start, heart racing and reality sinking in. Hizashi lay wide eyed on the floor, mouth opening and closing.

“I,” said Shouta, instantly worrying he’d gone too far, “I should-“

He moved to get up but Hizashi grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, lifting his head until his lips met Shouta’s.

Shouta had never kissed another man before; he hadn’t kissed very many people in general. He had expected it to feel wrong somehow, yet it came as naturally to him as breathing. He caught himself wondering why he’d never kissed Hizashi before. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about it.

“What are we doing?” he murmured.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

He reached down to slip his hand under Hizashi’s shirt, relishing the gasp he got as he brushed his fingers over exposed skin. He had always been quietly jealous when Hizashi mentioned sleeping with complete strangers. They never had to worry about what he’d think about them afterwards. Right then, Shouta was too exhausted and emotional to care either and it felt strangely liberating.

“Sho,” said Hizashi as he dragged off his shirt and tossed it aside, “have you ever...with another guy?”

“No. You?”

Shouta shrugged off his own shirt and threw it halfway across the room, narrowly missing the door to the balcony.

He had seen Hizashi naked before. This wasn’t the first time they’d helped one another out of their clothes. It was different now, though. This time around, it wasn’t because one of them was injured. They weren’t in public baths or the locker room. This was new and all consuming and Shouta wanted to lose himself in it.

“Yeah,” sighed Hizashi, “once or twice. Sho-”

“Mmm?”

“How far were you thinking of going?”

Shouta took in his shaky voice and glanced down at him, taking in the tears trailing from his eyes to the carpet.

“Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” said Hizashi, flushing scarlet, “it’s just that if you wanted to...y’know...you should probably let me take the lead.”

Shouta nodded and shifted his weight, giving Hizashi room to sit up. He was only too happy to hand over control- beyond kissing he didn’t really know what he was doing. He’d never touched any other dick but his own and under ordinary circumstances would have talked himself out of it by now.

Hizashi ran his hands from Shouta’s shoulders to his chest and pushed him over onto his back, crashing his lips against his as he linked his fingers in Shouta’s belt loops. Shouta yanked at his hair tie in response, relishing the way it cascaded forward and enveloped him in sunlight.

He would never admit to it, but he’d always been a fan of long hair and almost all of it stemmed from Hizashi.

Hizashi dragged away his belt and fiddled with Shouta’s fly, lips never once breaking contact.

“Off with these,” he said, gripping onto Shouta’s waistband and easing off his pants and boxers, eyes widening at the sight of his fully exposed body.

He was covered in leftover bruises from the attack at the lodge, as well as old scars from other incidents, such as the attack on USJ. Normally he didn’t pay them much heed: they were as much a part of him as his arms and legs and other people rarely saw them. Right now, though, they were all he could think about.

“Damn Shouta,” Hizashi chuckled, “I never noticed you were packin’.”

“Shut up,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks and making Hizashi laugh even harder.

They had seen each other naked before but never looked any more than was polite. There was no room for modesty now, yet Shouta’s instinct was still to cover himself up. He moved a hand to cover his dick, though Hizashi caught it before he could, laughing as he coaxed his hand away.

“Seems a little unfair that I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All in good time.”

Hizashi’s belt jingled as it hit the floor and Shouta watched as he reached for his zipper. He stopped before unfastening his pants and looked up, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“What is it?”

“You don’t want to undress me?”

“I…”

Shouta both did and didn’t. He wanted to relish this moment and drink in every inch of Hizashi’s naked body...but he wanted to touch it too. His silence proved enough of an answer, though, for Hizashi swiftly grinned.

“So you like to watch, eh? Interesting…”

He loosened his zipper and kicked off his pants, taking care to stretch out each movement as much as possible. Shouta stared unapologetically, taking in the shape of his body and bounce of his hard dick as he dropped his underwear to the floor.

“Like what you see?”

He didn’t know what to say, so nodded instead, watching as Hizashi lowered himself down onto his elbows. Shouta inhaled deeply, taking in the warmth of Hizashi’s body against his, the sweet scent emanating from his hair, the hardness of his dick against his own.

“Say something,” said Hizashi, so softly that Shouta barely heard him.

Everything was going to be different after this and he tangled his fingers in Hizashi’s hair.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

He kissed him so hard that at first he couldn’t breathe, only letting up when Shouta grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. Hizashi moaned and Shouta sucked at his throat, hands trailing down Hizashi’s chest and over his nipple, taking care to slow his touches as he crossed over the stud there.

Shouta remembered when he got that nipple piercing. They were still teenagers at the time and Hizashi had gotten into an argument with his mother over it. She let him grow out his hair, she let him wear the most obnoxiously bright glasses he could find, her only condition to letting him stay up until the early hours of the morning working on his radio show was that his grades didn’t suffer and he only did it once a week. The piercing, though, was where she drew the line.

He scoped out pretty much every piercing shop in Musutafu, desperate to find one that wouldn’t ask too many questions, much less demand parental consent.

The one he settled for in the end was more than a little bit seedy and almost certainly at the epicenter of criminal activity. Shirakumo insisted on bringing a camera and perfectly captured the exact moment the piercing gun punctured Hizashi’s body and he regretted everything.

It was as sensitive now as it was then, leaving Hizashi moaning into his open mouth. Hizashi ground his hips against Shouta’s, bare skin colliding with bare skin. Shouta’s mind fell blank at the feel of Hizashi’s hard dick against his own, the sudden stimulation sending shivers down his spine.

He had never felt anything like this before. He ran a hand down Hizashi’s back, gripping onto his bare ass as he thrust his hips against him.

“Shouta,” said Hizashi, “do you trust me?”

It was a weird question and Shouta laid back, taking in his flushed face and tousled hair.

“What kind of question is that?”

“But do you?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” he said, taking hold of both of his hands and laying them on the floor, one on either side of his head. “Put your hands up.”

Shouta watched, bewildered, as he let go and sat up onto his knees, spreading Shouta’s legs and maneuvering himself into the gap.

“What...are you…”

His stomach fluttered, imagination running wild with possibilities.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” said Hizashi sheepishly. “Ever since I found out what happened at Ego ...I know what (Name) feels like...I know what she sounds like...but I don’t know that about you .”

He scratched his chin and took a long look at Shouta’s body.

“Sho,” he said, “I want to know what you sound like.”

Shouta recalled his own dreams; the numerous obscene scenarios that had entered his imagination after he realised you and Hizashi had slept together. He and Hizashi couldn’t have been any more different, but when it came to the important things they were the same.

He nodded, taking note of the gleam in Hizashi’s eyes, heart skipping a beat as he spat in his open palm and took hold of both of their cocks.

Hizashi jerked him -both of them- hard and fast, so quickly that Shouta couldn’t keep track of his movements, only the shuddering it sent through his body. The last time he had had sex with another person was with you. Any time he came after that had been purely accidental.

It didn’t take much for him to moan in desperation, for him to dig his fingers into the carpet above his head. He sucked in a deep breath, close to the point of no return, only for Hizashi to stop. Shouta glanced up at him, wondering if he’d done something wrong or Hizashi had changed his mind.

The truth couldn’t have been more infuriating. Hizashi gazed down at him, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, you,” Shouta said, realising the situation he was in, “you fucker .”

“I mean, if we’re going to be technical,” said Hizashi, pointing down at their hips, “you’re just as guilty as me on that front.”

Shouta lifted his hands, wanting nothing more than to drag Hizashi to the ground.

“Ahhh, no,” said Hizashi, “hands up, remember?”

Shouta cursed under his breath, but obeyed, laying his hands flat against the carpet.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for this. He knew Hizashi was into edging. Hizashi was into anything that left his partner a shuddering mess.

After a few more seconds of torture, Hizashi took hold of their dicks again, jerking them slowly this time. He took the time to run his fingers along the underside of Shouta’s cock, along the sensitive spot right underneath the tip and giving it a perfectly timed squeeze. Shouta bucked his hips into his touches, willing him to go faster, but Hizashi did quite the opposite. He slowed down to an infuriatingly slow pace, watching in satisfaction as Shouta’s hands twitched, eager to finish the job.

Truth be told, Shouta really did trust him. That was the only thing keeping him still. He could have kicked him off at any moment, could have escaped his grip without breaking a sweat. He didn’t want to, though. Every second he spent there, moaning and frustrated, he wasn’t thinking about his failures. Right then that was all he needed.

Only when Shouta had gotten used to this new pace did Hizashi go faster, jerking at both of their cocks just as quickly as before, only this time squeezing tighter. Shouta dug his nails into his palms, tracing over the familiar calluses and holding his breath, stomach clenching and body tensing in anticipation of the pleasure to come. Just as before, though, Hizashi slowed down.

“Not long now,” said Hizashi, “just a little more.”

Shouta prepared himself for another round of slow, gentle touches, only to be completely taken off guard. Hizashi jerked them both fast and hard, so hard that it sent Shouta over the edge with only a couple of minutes. His mind fell blank and he called out in pleasure, wriggling in place as he spilled all over Hizashi’s fingers, liquid pleasure seeping from Hizashi’s fist and onto his stomach, all while Hizashi continued to pump. Shouta cried out from overstimulation; Hizashi whined as his own climax came, leaving his own cum to escape his fist and mix with Shouta’s until the pair of them were a sweating mess.

Hizashi let go and gasped for air, covered in a sheen of sweat and the occasional drop of cum on his chest. He looked down at Shouta, who was just as breathless, body still twitching from release.

Shouta barely noticed as Hizashi moved to lie down next to him. He was too far gone to pay attention to anything other than the pleasure rushing through his body.

“You know,” panted Hizashi, “you can’t do that every time you want me to shut up.”

“Why not? Seemed to work.”

Shouta glanced around the room; at their discarded clothes and dirty bodies. He knew it would bother him later, but right then he didn’t care about very much of anything. He looked over his shoulder, taking in Hizashi’s flushed face beside him. The softness was fading from it, back to the one of concern from when he arrived.

“Shall we talk about it?”

Shouta sighed, looking away.

“We really should talk about it,” said Hizashi, reaching for his glasses. “We’ll need to-umph!”

Shouta had reached for one of the peaches on his coffee table. The same one currently stuffed in Hizashi’s mouth.

“Later,” said Shouta, to which Hizashi sighed and sank his teeth into the peach.

They lay there in silence for quite some time, Hizashi making it about halfway through the fruit before Shouta began to speak.

“With my life,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I trust you with it,” he said, grabbing a peach of his own and taking an enormous bite before he could say anything embarrassing.

Well, he thought as Hizashi squeaked through a mouthful of peach, visibly delighted by the revelation, even more embarrassing.

~~~~~

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Shouta frowned through the bathroom door as a towel-clad Hizashi rifled through his wardrobe in search of a suit for the upcoming media interview.

Visiting hours came to a close and Nemuri planted a kiss to your forehead before returning home.

Tsukauchi stayed awake long into the night, going over strategies and making phone calls.

Nezu lit a cigar and stared into the smoke as it hit the night air, contemplating potential futures and outcomes.

You slept through all of it, completely unaware of the struggles of everyone around you.

Night fell and your room remained untouched by the world outside. You stayed asleep as police guarded the corridors; as media outlets scrambled for answers. You didn’t move as midnight struck and someone climbed through your bedroom window. Someone who, realistically, should have known better.

You stayed still and oblivious as they stood at the foot of your bed, taking in your freshly painted fingernails and tranquil expression.

They came and went from your room like a ghost, whispering an apology in your ear and planting a kiss on your forehead, willing you to remember it.

You didn’t remember it.

When you woke up, in fact, quite some time later, you didn’t remember much of anything. You didn’t know where you were, didn’t know how you’d gotten there.

You were sure of only one thing: that the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a punnet of fresh peaches.

#bnha #erasermic #aizawa shouta x yamada hizashi #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #habanero

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.”

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #gn reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix · 3 years

Text

Maybe In Another Life...

Summary: JJ is jealous of Andrew Mendoza because he has Emily and she doesn’t. Loosely from 15x07 "Rusty". Major spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet.

Jemily fic, but it’s a little bit of a sad one. I apologize in advance for breaking any hearts :(

Also big thanks to @bridget19 for beta-reading this!!

Read on AO3

Emily walked into her office and saw a bouquet of flowers on her desk. She saw a little red card in the bouquet and looked at the writing on it.

Thinking of you. - Andrew

Reaching for her phone in her bag, she saw her boyfriend’s name on the screen. Of course. She contemplated answering after four rings and sighed before tapping on the red circle to reject his call.

Emily didn’t know exactly where her relationship with Andrew Mendoza stood. This was a whole new experience for her because, sure, he’s a good guy, but is he really the one for her? She never did well in long-term relationships because of her trust and commitment issues. Emily always felt like someone could never love her enough to stay with her in the long run.

She sat down in her chair and heard a light knock at her office door. It was JJ giving her a bright smile and walking towards her desk.

“Morning,” the blonde greeted. “Another day, another dollar,” she sat on the armrest of the chair in front of it.

“Yep. Good old fashioned government dollar,” Emily joked.

“I can see Garcia hit up her favorite coffee truck on her way to work.”

“I had to cut her off,” Emily said. Garcia was more energetic than usual talking about the show they both watched, something about a blonde agent getting injured and professing her undying love to her female boss.

JJ smiled and nodded. “Wait, don’t you have a budget meeting this morning?”

Emily checked her watch. “Uh, yes, I do.”

JJ nodded again and drawled out, “Emily…”

The unit chief looked up and raised her eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“You buried the lead. Flowers?”

Emily hesitantly nodded.

“That Andrew Mendoza’s a keeper…” JJ teased.

“Mhmm,” Emily forced out a response as she stood from her chair, grabbing her black binder and phone for the FBI budget meeting.

“Can’t be late for that meeting,” she told the blonde as she made her way out of her office, tapping her shoulder with the binder.

“Mhmm,” JJ responded with a closed-mouth smile, watching Emily leave. She looked back at the flowers Andrew sent to Emily and her smile quickly faded away. JJ observed them with narrowed eyes, gripping the back of the chair a little tighter and harder than normal.

For a group of profilers, rarely anyone noticed JJ’s jealousy towards Andrew. When it came to the team’s love lives, she’d always smirked because it was just too fun to tease them about.

She reminded herself on many occasions that she had Will and her boys. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her family and has always made them one of her biggest priorities in life. But JJ also knew she would be a lot happier, if she shared her life with Emily Prentiss.

God, to be married to Emily Prentiss.

JJ smiled wistfully at the thought of being married to her. She would be so good with her sons. JJ knew Emily wanted to provide the maternal care she never had growing up, and imagined her giving that to Henry and Michael. Emily was also very loving and always listened to JJ’s problems, every rant and issue she had.

JJ knew Mendoza was a good guy. He’s good for Emily. The blonde bit her lip and stood from the armrest she was sitting on. She looked at the flowers again when she neared the door and took a slow deep breath, sighing. After a few more seconds, JJ left Emily’s office in sadness.

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

The next day, the team was on the jet, going over the case with Garcia on video chat. The BAU had been called on another case and they had an unsub decapitating male victims and collecting their heads. They looked through their file folders for more details on their unsub’s victims, and all of a sudden, the tech analyst chimed in with a comment.

“Shut the front door. Andrew Mendoza signed this report.” Everyone’s heads shot up at her remark. “Andrew Mendoza is Prentiss’s boyfriend. He’s the head of the Denver field office?”

“Uh, yes,” Emily reluctantly replied. “He has been for the past, uh, two months. Um, his daughter and ex-wife moved to Colorado a year ago, and he'd been waiting for a transfer so he could be closer to Keely. She starts high school soon, so…”

Emily felt like she had just divulged a little too much to the team, and kept her mouth shut after receiving the awkward silence from them. She knew the case was in Denver, which was where Andrew was, but she wanted to keep her personal and work lives separate.

“But you guys are, um, you’re good?” Luke’s voice broke through.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all good,” Emily nodded. Well, it was a half-lie because she didn't know.

Spencer looked at JJ, then Emily, then back to JJ. He studied her facial expression go from surprise, jealousy, amusement, to heartbreak. He didn’t know if the others noticed, but he trained his eyes on her when Penelope had mentioned Andrew.

JJ had been shot by Everett Lynch’s daughter, Grace, about a month ago. While in the hospital, she had told Spencer the truth about her confession she made to the unsub who made her play truth or dare the week before: that she was really in love with Emily. JJ thought if she was about to die in that situation, she had already trusted Spencer enough to keep that secret. The younger co-worker figured it wasn’t meant for him once he saw how she kept glancing over at Emily at Rossi's wedding, especially when JJ paid extra attention to her during the twin flames speech.

JJ had her head down as she quietly scanned through the file again the entire time. She frowned and her eyes were filled with sadness and a hint of regret, Spencer noted. Practically rolling her eyes, JJ didn't bother listening to the team talking about Mendoza.

“JJ, Reid, check out the latest crime scene. Tara, Luke, go to the M.E.’s office,” Emily ordered.

JJ nodded her head towards Spencer, who nodded back. He noticed she masked her pain behind her eyes with a smile when she did. Maybe they’ll talk about it later.

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

JJ and Spencer had just investigated the unsub’s latest victim’s house before concluding that they needed more evidence from eyewitnesses for information on his behavior. After asking a few people, the two drove their way back to the field office.

JJ was focused on the road in front of her and Spencer examined her body language. His friend was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. She bit the inside of her cheek, and her eyes narrowed while her brows furrowed.

“JJ,” Spencer broke the silence.

She turned her head to glance at him, “What?”

“Your grip on the steering wheel is tighter than normal and the tone of your voice sounded controlled when you answered me, like you were holding back on something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does this have to do with Emily and Mendoza?”

JJ rolled her eyes, still focused on the road. “If Emily’s with him, then good for her.”

“What about when Garcia brought him up when we were on the jet?”

The blonde agent had enough. She took a turn to the nearest vacant spot and parked the SUV near the curb. She turned the engine off and faced the younger man. JJ quickly clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Stop it, j- just stop. Please just… stop talking about Andrew, ok? I don’t want to talk about his relationship with Emily. I have to keep telling myself she’s happy with him and I have a life of my own now. So, I am begging you to stop,” JJ vented out to him. She felt tears pricking at her eyes towards the end of her rant.

“I was worried about you, JJ. I don’t like seeing my best friend hurt like this,” Spencer frowned as his eyes softened.

JJ shook her head to stop her tears from falling, but felt one single tear trail down. She bit her bottom lip, so she would not start sobbing.

“I- look, I’m sorry for snapping at you, Spence,” JJ sincerely apologized, rubbing her fingers in an attempt to soothe her worries. She knew he meant well and that he hates seeing her in pain, especially if it’s over the woman she loves. “It’s just that-”

JJ exhaled out another deep breath to compose herself. “There were flowers Andrew sent Emily, and I had to bring them over to her desk before she came in her office.”

The delivery man had arrived at the FBI building, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked around to see if there was anyone expecting them. He saw a blonde woman pass by and quickly caught her attention.

“Excuse me. Are you Emily Prentiss?” He read his clipboard to check the name.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I’m not her,” JJ shook her head and smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I got flowers for her from someone named Andrew Mendoza,” he gestured to the bouquet.

JJ froze for a second and she heard her heart shatter before responding with a polite smile, the one she used in her past liaison days. “I can leave them in her office, if that’s ok.”

“Thank you. Can you sign this for her?”

“Of course.”

After signing the clipboard and thanking the delivery man for Emily’s flowers, JJ took them and walked up to the brunette’s office. She held the flowers in her hands and frowned deeply. 'Things must be getting serious, then?' JJ wished she was the one bringing her flowers and not… him. She set the bouquet down on Emily's desk before leaving her office.

“What am I going to do?” JJ rested her forehead on the steering wheel, still gripping it. “Things seem to be going well with him and I don't think I'll ever make her that happy, not the way Andrew does. I really lost my chance with her 12 years ago,” she sighed in defeat.

“13 years, 1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, and 6 seconds, to be exact,” Spencer corrected her.

“Was I really that obvious?” JJ chuckled.

The doctor shrugged, “I’ve noticed you subconsciously having similar habits to Emily, like playing with your fingers and biting your lip when you’re nervous, or even dressing up similarly to her. You stare at her whenever she's not looking, for approximately 4.78 seconds. Your body seems less tense when you hear her voice, almost as if that’s the only thing that calms you down. Your pupils dilate and your cheeks turn red every time she gives you a compliment and-”

JJ cut him off with a laugh, "Ok, I think I get it."

"Oh," he quickly shut his mouth, not realizing he was rambling again.

“Spence?”

He looked at her.

“Thank you. For keeping this secret between us,” JJ said.

“It’s no problem. You are my best friend,” Spencer gave a small awkward nod.

JJ gratefully smiled at him and patted his shoulder before turning the engine on again to drive back to the field office.

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

“Coffee?” JJ announced her and Spencer’s presence, holding cups for Luke and Tara. They gathered evidence that the unsub was dealing with alternate realities, and found themselves getting a little closer to finding him and what his motives are.

“Look, guys, we are banging our heads against a wall here,” Tara said. “I mean, Denver is littered with colleges, and we’ve already worked our way through most of the academics and scientists.”

“Well, you know what? We just need to take a step back and look at things differently,” JJ said. “The Mandela effect is a unique psychological construct, right? I mean, there’s got to be a good reason why he latched onto it in particular.”

“Well, creation of dissociative realities can often be a crutch for people who’ve suffered extreme trauma,” Spencer started with a fact that may be a clue to the unsub’s motive.

After a beat, Tara nodded and considered his statement, “Ok, let’s run with that. We’re looking for a loss triggered by an event likely caused by the unsub himself, and then this inability to accept this reality would be a defense mechanism for a mind racked with guilt.”

“So, unable to face reality, our unsub has created his own,” Luke connected.

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s killing fathers, though,” Spencer said after taking a sip of his coffee.

Luke shook his head and elaborated on the theory, “Unless it does. Say his own guilt is a major factor in a break like this. That would mean that he's picking out dads out of some kind of self-loathing.”

“This isn’t hatred towards his own dad,” JJ realized. “These men are surrogates for him. He’s angry at himself. Our unsub’s the father here.”

JJ recalled her colleagues’ words. She thought about the idea of parallel universes in that moment. Was she relating to the unsub? Had she subconsciously made an alternate reality where she and Emily were together because of her own guilt? It wasn’t the appropriate time to dwell on that thought, then again, when has she ever found the right time?

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

The team had just finished solving the case, and were heading back to the hotel they were staying at. It was almost midnight and most of them were already in their hotel rooms. Emily had come back from visiting Mendoza and his daughter, Keely. JJ was in the hallway grabbing a small pack of Cheetos from a vending machine near her room.

Emily shook her head and smirked, Some things never change.

JJ was walking back to her room and smiled when she saw Emily, waving a hand at her. The younger woman decided it was the perfect time to talk to her since she wasn’t with Andrew.

She jogged up to the unit chief, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Uh, listen. I know it’s late right now, but… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Just you and me,” the blonde quietly offered, placing her free hand into her pocket.

Emily nodded, “I’d like that.”

JJ gave a soft nervous chuckle before the two women walked to the younger agent’s room. JJ opened the door and held it open for Emily to step inside.

She lightly scratched her head and pointed at a plastic bag on the table near the TV, “Um… the team went out for dinner and I might’ve saved you some food, since you weren’t there.”

“Heh, thanks,” Emily said, acknowledging JJ’s considerate action and sitting on her bed..

The younger woman sat next to her. It was an openly awkward silence between the two agents, which was rare because they usually found ways to entertain one another. After a little while, JJ broke the silence.

“So, parallel universes, huh?”

“Yep,” Emily chuckled.

“Do you believe in all that?”

“Hmm?”

JJ grew quiet, “That there are multiple universes that have several possibilities we don’t really think about often?”

The unit chief looked at her hands for a moment before responding, “Sometimes, yeah. Do you?”

JJ slowly nodded in agreement, “Sometimes.” She was wringing her hands, something she did when she was nervous and didn’t know how to put things into words. “You know when my mom came to town, she told me about imagined futures and projecting yourself in them. Like a movie about how your life would play out, if you had things your way and it got me thinking.”

“About?”

She contemplated on her next words and squinted her eyes at the floor, recalling a memory a little while back. “Emily, do you remember when you said something about twin flames at Krystall and Dave’s wedding? That sometimes, it takes a parallel universe for them to be together again?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you even remembered that,” Emily said.

JJ silently nodded and gently took Emily’s hand in hers, rubbing small circles with her thumb. The unit chief looked down at their hands and furrowed her brows in confusion.

JJ slowly licked her lips before making eye contact with her. It’s now or never. “Do you think maybe in another lifetime… you’d ever give us a shot? You know… together?”

Emily’s eyes widened, registering what she just heard, “JJ-“

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry I told you this, Emily,” JJ regretted and tried to stand up, but was stopped by a hand gently pulling her wrist.

“No, it’s not that. It’s-“ Emily gestured for her to sit down. “I just didn’t know you felt that way about me."

JJ shook her head, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know how to tell you this and I know it’s already too late.” She couldn’t stop the tears that were falling and she felt soft hands cup her face to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” the brunette soothed her nerves. “It’s ok, I got you.”

JJ leaned into Emily’s gentle caring touch. She raised her hands up to where Emily’s rested, and held onto them. “I- I talked to Spence the time I was shot and told him I was in love with you. I told him if things were different, I would have a chance with you. I sometimes think about how life would be if… we were together. I would’ve shared the boys with you, Emily. They love you and you love them. I would’ve loved being called your wife.”

JJ took a sharp intake of breath before letting out a bitter laugh and shaking her head, “You helped me through so much and came every time I needed you. You know, there were so many moments I kept wishing for something more, and it confused me because I didn’t realize how much happier I felt with you around.” She felt a salty tear trickle down her lips and sniffled, “I love you, Emily. And I’m sorry it took me years to say it out loud because I’m a coward.”

Emily listened to her and processed everything she just said. JJ really was in love with her all these years. It wasn’t just in her head. She was still silent and it made JJ want to run away in shame and guilt.

JJ’s eyes widened in fear as she rapidly blinked. She shook her head, mouth opening and closing as she tried to explain herself, “Emily, I- I-”

“Hey, breathe. Just breathe, ok, JJ?” Emily softened. She pressed their foreheads together to calm JJ’s nerves. “Just listen to my voice and look at me, ok? I’m here.”

JJ took deep breaths and listened to Emily while making eye contact with her through her eyelashes. The older woman wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders and pulled her close. “How about we lay down? Is that ok?” Emily suggested and JJ nodded.

The two scooted up to the pillows and Emily still held the younger woman close to her body. JJ felt herself relax in her warm and comforting embrace, eyes fluttering closed to take all of this in. Emily slowly rubbed big circles on JJ’s back and kissed her soft blonde hair.

After about two minutes, JJ lifted her head and blue eyes scanned Emily’s features. She raised her left hand to brush brown bangs away from her forehead. JJ silently asked Emily if it’s ok, and the unit chief nodded, knowing what her question was. The two always were best at silent communication with each other.

So, the blonde leaned closer and they both closed her eyes, listening to their nervous yet steady breaths. JJ closed the gap between them and their lips connected perfectly, like they were each other’s missing puzzle pieces the entire time. Emily tucked in a piece of hair behind JJ’s ear and brushed a thumb against her cheek.

Holding the back of her neck, JJ adjusted her body to straddle the brunette’s hips. Emily carefully sat up and cupped each side of her face. Both women thought the amount of passion in their kiss would make up for the time they’ve lost together. Tonight was the only time they really had the chance to be together, with no worry in the world. There was no Andrew, no Will, none of the members of the team or their troubled pasts. It was just JJ and Emily as lovers for tonight.

Emily reluctantly pulled away to rest their foreheads together, while JJ’s eyes were still closed and blindly chasing after her lips. The younger woman’s hand was still buried in dark hair as she slowly opened her eyes, licking her lips. She saw Emily’s pupils dilated from the almost heated kiss and chest heaving to regulate her breathing back to normal. Emily gave JJ a short and sweet kiss before JJ laid back down beside her.

“You know, I was kinda wishing we’d done more than just that,” Emily admitted quietly.

JJ nodded against her shoulder, “Me too. But we can’t.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” JJ said, her head now in the crook of Emily’s neck and sighing. “I wish I’d said something before.”

Emily bit her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling, “I wish I’d said something, too.”

“Maybe in another life…”

“Yeah," Emily softly said. She didn't need to hear the rest because she thought the same thing. Her hand made its way down to connect with JJ’s, squeezing it lightly to know that everything is going to be ok.

JJ glanced down at their joined hands and raised them up to her lips to kiss the older woman’s knuckles. “You know, I remember joking around with Spence one time that it was his and Penelope’s job to get Henry into Yale. I didn’t even realize you went to Yale. I guess I really was thinking about you the entire time, huh? I think I wanted Henry to follow in your footsteps.”

Emily raised her eyebrows in amusement, “Wow.” She blushed and looked down at their hands, hiding a small grin, “You really wanted Henry to be like me?”

“In a way, yeah,” the blonde agent nodded, running her thumb over Emily’s. “Well, maybe without the goth phase in high school…”

Emily playfully shoved her and JJ laughed. She cringed at that goddamn awful photo Garcia had pulled up once and teased her about, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

JJ shook her head, smiling, and Emily groaned.

“To be honest, I’ve always imagined us living in Charlottesville, for some reason,” JJ stared at the ceiling, getting lost in her thoughts. “Maybe when we retire, we’d find a nice, stable home for us and the kids, you know? I think I want a place to finally settle down and not worry so much about what we deal with on a daily basis. Maybe we’d actually see our kids grow up and not miss out on that. There’s some wineries and vineyards we could go to… and this really good restaurant I could show you sometime, if we ever have a day off. Some places we could hike, you know if you’re up for it…” she winked at her.

Emily nodded, “That sounds nice. As for the hiking, that’s a definite no.”

JJ softly laughed and kissed her cheek, sighing contentedly, “What about you? What’s your alternate reality?”

Emily smiled, “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather’s home in the French Alps? I always thought that once we retire from the BAU, we’d go up there after our kids graduate high school. I kinda thought about taking his place up there after he died. You know, just to get away from things. Maybe you could ski with the kids and I’d be inside making us some tea and hot chocolate. We’d gather around a little fire and, I don’t know, make some crafty things.”

JJ nodded and lifted her head to look at her, “You still haven’t answered my question earlier. Would you have considered it?”

Emily let out a chuckle and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, “I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“I love you, Emily. I want you to know that,” JJ whispered, leaning back up to kiss her again.

Emily smiled sadly as she responded with, “Always, blackbird. I will always love you, too.”

Tonight was just them, JJ and Emily, no one else. They can worry about the rest tomorrow. For now, this was their chance to be together. A thought crossed Emily’s mind as she remembered her own speech about twin flames:

Twin flames. Two souls that are always meant to be together. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something. But the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart. They are a magic unto themselves, and together, they light the way for all of us.

Now looking back at it, she remembered how her eyes kept darting back to JJ’s at the wedding. The way the ghost of a frown was on JJ’s face as she squeezed Will’s hand in reassurance, or how JJ snuck a little smile at Emily when she stood in between her husband and her long-lost lover. The following events when JJ was shot, Emily remembered how her heart rate increased on the monitor once she entered the hospital room to check up on her.

Was Emily so blind to realize that JJ loved her back? She had missed all those signs JJ had displayed over the years. They could have been together, if only both of them said something sooner.

This was their time, their time alone. This universe gave them this night together. Only in another life, would they be together for certain.

#jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic

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thejolexgroupchat · 3 years

Text

the one where they met in med school - part twenty-two

siblings and paper rings

Hello everyone!! Thanks so much for all of your support for this fic. We hope you enjoy this next section!

(March 2009)

———

"Alex!" Meredith screeched as she met him in the hallway. "Alex! Answer your damn phone. I've been trying to call you for the past hour. Why weren't you answering my calls?"

"Sorry, Jo and I were in an on-call room, ya know," Alex smirked, a smug glint in his eye.

"Ew, gross," Meredith made a face. "I did not need to know that."

"Well, aren't you happy that I didn't answer your calls while we were—"

"No, no, I'm going to stop you right there because I don't want to hear about the dirty, jailhouse hooker things that you and Jo do in the dark corners of the hospital," Meredith shuddered. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about?”

“What did you want to talk about?” Alex exhaled impatiently.

“I wanted to talk about why your brother showed up at my house this morning while I was in the shower,” Meredith whisper-yelled. “Why didn’t I know you have a brother? And why doesn’t he know where you live?”

“Crap,” Alex paused in the middle of the hallway. “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but I told him I’d bring him here with me to see you, so he’s hanging out in the lounge right now,” Meredith answered.

The pair walked down to the residents’ lounge quickly. When Alex entered, he saw his brother standing there, talking to Izzie, Lexie, Jackson and Cristina.

“Alex is the oldest, then me, and then Amber,” Aaron took a bite out of the granola bar in his hand. “Amber’s graduating from St. Savior’s in May. She’s… she’s smart like Alex. She could go to college if she wanted to, but she’s like “what’s the point?” you know?” And I don’t know what to tell her. Alex is the doctor in the family. I just move people for a living.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Alex chuckled lightly, startling Aaron, whose face lit up upon hearing Alex’s voice.

“Alex!” Aaron grinned and pulled his older brother into a tight hug. “Man you got old.”

“Dude, uh, what are you doing here?” Alex asked again.

“I had to drive to Portland on a job, and since Portland is in the neighborhood...” Aaron shrugged.

“Well, Portland is not in the neighborhood,” Alex shook his head, an amused smile on his face.

“It’s three hours,” Aaron waved dismissively. “I can do three hours in my sleep.”

“Alex, he’s your brother. He’s allowed to come say hi,” Lexie rolled her eyes.

“I’m overdue for a visit,” Aaron explained. “It’s been almost five and a half years.”

“No it has not,” Alex made a face.

“Since you’ve been home?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Five and a half years.”

“You haven’t been home in five years?” Izzie gasped.

“Has it been five years?” Meredith looked at Alex expectantly.

“Amber was twelve the last time we saw you. It was that Christmas when you brought Jo home for the first time and mom walked in on you guys having sex because you’d just gotten together the night before,” Aaron chuckled at the memory.

“Glad to see some things never change,” Cristina muttered under her breath. “We walk in on them on a weekly basis around here. They've been going at it like rabbits for the past few weeks.”

“We were not having sex,” Alex protested. “We were… kissing that’s all.”

“Oh yes, kissing with no clothes on. Definitely not having sex,” Aaron quipped sarcastically, garnering a few chuckles from the residents in the room. “Where is Jo by the way? Doesn’t she work here with you?”

“Aaron?”

“Speak of the devil,” Jackson nudged Lexie as Jo stood in the doorway of the lounge.

“Jo?”

“Ah! Aaron?” Jo rushed over and embraced him enthusiastically. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it!” Jo pulled away to get a good look at Aaron. “Look at you. You’re all grown up.”

“Grown up enough to get you to leave my brother for me?” Aaron joked.

“Yikes, I hate to break it to you, but there’s only one Karev that holds the number one spot in my heart,” Jo paused for dramatic effect. “Amber.”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed at his girlfriend. “I think my mom would agree too. I think all of us would agree.”

“He’s right,” Aaron nodded, a smile on his face.

“So, what’s going on?” Jo asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but, why are you here?”

“Well, I missed you guys,” Aaron tilted his head. “But since you guys are doctors, I thought I’d ask…” Aaron lifted up his shirt. “Should I be worried about this?”

***

When he woke up that morning, Alex did not think he’d be spending the first part of his day trying to locate Dr. Bailey in order to beg her to perform his brother’s umbilical hernia repair pro bono. But there he found himself filling out his brother’s paperwork as Aaron roamed the halls in a hospital gown saying God knows what to all of his coworkers. By the time Alex found Aaron again, he was sitting at a chair behind the nurses station, staring at the scans the Jo had pulled up.

“And that right there is a kidney,” Jo pointed at the screen.

“No way,” Aaron’s lips curved up slightly. “That’s so cool. Sometimes I wish I would’ve gone to school or training of some sort. I’ve always thought that I could’ve been a good firefighter.”

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” Jo encouraged. “You’re young and can do whatever you want.”

“I guess you’re right,” Aaron nodded. “I gotta live through this surgery first.”

“It’s a simple procedure,” Alex explained as he came up beside them. “Dr. Bailey is one of the best and she’s done this countless times. You’re going to be fine.”

“Alright, well I’ve got to go,” Jo straightened and placed a small kiss on Alex’s cheek. “I’m in the pit today with Hunt. Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Alex replied watching as Jo walked away.

“You look stupid,” Aaron made fun of his older brother who glared at him. “I’m serious. You’re watching her walk away like you’re never going to see her again.”

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you to your room.”

“Why aren’t you guys, you know, married yet?” Aaron asked when they finally got back to his hospital room.

“Because we’re not,” Alex replied simply.

“That’s not an answer,” Aaron sat down on the bed. “I’m serious. Why haven’t you married her? You guys have been together for over five years. What are you doing? Is this it? Is this all you have to give of yourself?”

“Of course not,” Alex sighed. “Look, we haven’t really told anyone this, but we’re kind of trying for a baby.”

“You’re trying for a what, now?” Aaron’s eyes bulged. “A baby? As in an actual child that’s half you, half her, that you would raise together?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed out a shaky laugh. “Yeah we are… well, weren’t not exactly trying, just not... preventing anything.”

“That’s great man. I’m happy for you two. I’m glad that you feel ready to take that step,” Aaron patted Alex's shoulder. “That still doesn’t explain why you haven’t popped the question yet. Grandma Lois would kill you if she found out that you were trying to knock your girl up before marrying her.”

“I think I’m going to propose soon. I need to get a ring though, and it has to be perfect… I want to give her everything. She deserves that,” Alex stated quietly.

“You may want to give her everything, but honestly? I don’t think she wants everything,” Aaron looked up at his older brother’s puzzled face. “I think she just wants you. And to be married to you and have kids with you. You’re all she wants and all she really needs. I know you aren’t used to that because of the way we grew up, but Alex, you’re going to keep making excuses for why you can’t propose for the rest of your life as long as you keep thinking that she deserves better than what you can give her.”

“When did you get so smart?” Alex narrowed his eyes. “I swear, the last time I saw you, the only thing on your mind was football and sex.”

“I grew up,” Aaron shrugged, a dimpled smile donning his cheeks. “Just ask her to marry you already. If you want, I’ll go with you to look at rings as soon as they clear me after surgery.”

“I’d like that,” Alex grinned, leaning forward to ruffle Aaron’s hair. “You’re going places, kid.”

***

Two Weeks Later

“Did you hear Nurse Jen got engaged last weekend? She came back from skiing with a massive rock on her hand.”

“Really? That’s like the sixth one in the past two months,” Cristina’s voice was annoyed, Meredith chuckling at her. “I only know because they always make a big deal out of their gloves ripping on the flashy rings their spoiled rich boy fiancé’s buy them.”

Alex rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his scrub top and grabbed his shirt from his locker. He was used to the pointless gossip the three girls swapped in the locker room, their voices and laughter always echoing out louder than anything else happening in the room.

“Maybe the next one won’t be a nurse but one of our very own residents,” Meredith chucked her scarf at Alex, making him toss the fabric back and stare down the three women with a disgruntled stare. “Don’t give me that look, I think it’s about time you manned up and popped the question to Jo! I mean it feels like just yesterday we were calling her Dracula and now she’s kicking ass and taking names.”

“She’s got a point, Evil Spawn, pretty soon she’s gonna get tired of your shit and realize she’s way too good for you,” Alex met Cristina with a glare, the dark haired woman winking at him in return. “Seriously though, why’re you dragging your feet?”

“Shut up,” Alex grunted, trying to push the conversation aside.

“C'mon, Alex, you guys have been together for a million years and you haven’t even thought about marrying her,” Izzie threw her hands up in exasperation as Cristina and Meredith nodded their heads in agreement. “I'd be getting impatient if I were her. Me and George weren’t even together when we got married. But we loved each other and that was enough. Especially since life is short and you never know how much time you have left.”

“If it’s the commitment you’re afraid of, that’s okay. We’re all messed up and have problems with that, but I have to agree with them, Alex. Time is ticking,” Meredith said, folding her clothes and putting them in the locker. “And if it’s the wedding you’re worried about, you can always borrow my post-it notes.” She chuckled, making the other girls join her in a laughing fit.

“Leave me alone, all three of you. I have thought about marrying her, I’m aware that she could do much better, and I’m not afraid of commitment or the wedding part. I actually want to have a giant wedding, for your information,” Alex scowled before allowing his face to soften a bit. “And I don’t owe you any explanation because this is none of your business, but…” he rummaged around his locker and pulled out a tiny box that made all the women gasp giddily. “I’ve had to keep it here for the past week because she’d find it in the loft, but I’m proposing. Tonight.” He smiled, sitting down and showing them the ring.

“Oh crap!” Cristina’s eyes widened. “You bought an actual diamond engagement ring.”

“No I’m proposing with a paper ring,” Alex deadpanned. “Of course I bought a ring.”

“Alex, this ring is beautiful,” Izzie fawned over it.

“Really? You think she’ll like it?” He looked at it one more time before turning his gaze to the trio standing right behind him.

“I think she’ll love it,” Meredith said.

“Good. All those options at the store made me anxious. I never thought I’d ever go ring shopping, so I’m still a bit insecure about my choice, but I hope you’re right. I hope she loves it,” Alex let out a nervous breath, closing the little box again and putting it back in the back of his locker.

“Dude, grow a pair,” Cristina teased him.

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes, making them laugh as they made their way out of the room.

“Don’t worry, Evil Spawn. Dracula is gonna love it. You did a great job,” Cristina patted his back with a smile on her face as they parted ways.

What did you think of this chapter of the med school fic? Are you just as excited as we are? Let us know what you think in the comments!

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e-vasong · 4 years

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Leverage AU ideas

Submission (Hey, it looked like tumblr sent this to me under your real name, so I’m not gonna say who submitted it just in case that was an accident, but @ submitter if you want credit feel free to hit me up with a URL or something, or reblog this and @ me or whatever!):

Idrk how tumblr works but, for your leverage au: Vanya is Reggie’s real daughter which is why she has the violin but she was neglected bc reggie was obsessed with the others. The others are jealous of Vanya for her normal life/being Reggie’s real kid.

Eventually however she comes to the for help (probably bc of Lenard) and she helps them and they become a real family.

Maybe at some point she gets infected with a bio weapon that could kill everyone (maybe lenard tries to sell it to the commission) or learns dangerous information and they all have to save Vanya!

Oh God. (Presuming these are about the Reginald-As-Archie-Raises-The-Kids-As-Criminals AU.) These are so good.

The others are all homeless kids or kids from the system that Reggie plucked out and adopted because he saw tendencies in them that he believed, with training, could make them the best team of criminals around.

And this all translates so well to the canon dynamic where Vanya/the rest of the family both don’t really process the abuse endured by the other party.

Reginald neglects Vanya in favor of the others; tells them they have potential. And when Vanya asks to join in on the lessons he tells her that she has no talent at all. He tells her again and again how he chose the others, and the implication is clear. That if it had been up to him, he never would have chosen her at all.

Meanwhile, the others are jealous of Vanya, Reginald’s biological kid. They’re always aware, on some level, that he only took them in because he thought they might be useful--that it was money and power that brought them into his care, as if he’d bought them. That he could always just...put them back, in a way they feel he can’t do with Vanya. They look at Vanya, who spends her days practicing the violin and studying normal school subjects while they have to devote their days to things like disabling laser grids, swindling people out of their funds, and getting beaten into the ground in martial arts training, and they’re--they’re jealous. Of course they are, even if they don’t know it.

It takes them a long time (though not as long as in canon, I think) to realize they never should have blamed each other. It was always their father.

Instead of writing a tell-all book, Vanya turns over a bunch of information to the FBI. Their father gets arrested, a handful of the siblings get their covers blown on an important job and almost get killed by the mark’s henchman. It’s a shitshow all around. Their dad’s the only one to go to jail, though before he serves any real time a sniper takes him out through a courthouse window. They can’t figure out who did it; the mystery haunts them all for years. The others don’t get caught, but they’re still furious that Vanya almost got them killed.

(And later, much later, Vanya will join up with her family to run a con. Some of them haven’t let go of their suspicion and hurt yet. She doesn’t quite blame them, but it still stings. But here’s the thing. There are always people out there looking to exploit weakness. And Vanya will argue with her siblings. Diego will snap: don’t pretend like you care, you almost got us killed!

And Harold Jenkins will be waiting. Once a young homeless thief and grifter himself, Harold heard of Reginald Hargreeves collecting prodigious young criminals off the street and begged, begged Hargreeves to take him in. Hargreeves had sniffed, shouldered the child out of the way. If you really had any talent, Hargreeves had said, you would have conned me into it.

But Reginald Hargreeves’ vision had always been flawed. Harold is no perfect criminal, but he’s a dangerous one. And when Vanya storms out of the team’s homebase in the torrential rain, Harold pops his hood up, plasters the gentle, personable smile of Leonard Peabody onto his face, and sets his con into motion.)

They all split ways for a while, the way I described in my other post. Allison keeps grifting. Falls in love with a mark, Patrick, at one point. It ends badly. Ben and Klaus are a hacker/thief duo, except Ben has more scruples about who they victimize than Klaus, and it makes things tense as hell between them sometimes. Diego is working as a ‘retrieval specialist’ with an intense moral code and a willingness to turn on anyone that hires him if they prove themselves shitty enough. Luther gets out of the life and goes to live in the same apartment complex as Vanya. They end up staying close the whole time, with Vanya giving music lessons out of her apartment and Luther teaching martial arts classes.

And then they all get a missive. An invitation, a promise of a job. Luther almost throws it away, but Vanya stops him. We should check it out, she says. And so they do. And there they find all the others: Diego, Allison, Klaus, and Ben.

And Five. Five, the brother they’ve long thought dead. He looks tired. And after he fields their frantic embraces, their questions, and even lets them cry on him a bit (though he doesn’t look very happy about it), he leans back, and he tells them he has a job to offer them all.

He gets a chorus of rejections almost immediately. Vanya presumes she isn’t invited. Luther says he’s out of the game, and Allison says she’s trying to get out. Diego mainly seems skeptical that Five has anything worth offering. Klaus wants to go back to his apartment and not take jobs that are like, hard, or anything. Low risk only, please. Come on, Ben, let’s go.

Ben shoots Klaus a furious glare. Actually, he says. I can make my own decisions, Klaus. I want to hear what Five has to say.

Five has to repress a grin. Ben has always been Five’s favorite brother.

Five puts a manila folder on the table. His siblings pick it up, start passing it around. It’s not long before they’re frowning, clearly distressed by what they’re reading.

“His name is James Moore,” Five says. “He’s seven years old. He has a rare blood disease, but there’s a new experimental treatment that his doctors believe could save his life. His insurance company is refusing to pay for his treatment; they keep forcing the family to jump through loopholes. It’s a, uh, company policy that they didn’t include in the contract. Stall paying for treatment until it’s too late. Commit a moral atrocity, let innocents die, profit. Y’know how it goes. Age old story, really.”

“I don’t con sick people,” Diego says, and Five rolls his eyes.

“Good, because that’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“The insurance company?” Allison catches on first. Ben follows suit, eyebrows shooting up as he realizes what Five is saying. “You’re suggesting we con Perseus Insurance? Owned by one of the most powerful men in the world? That Perseus Insurance?”

Five leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees. He’s planned this speech. He has a plan to take down the Commission, but it involves moving a lot of pieces very, very slowly. And if he can take down some other bad people along the way? Good. But he needs a team he can trust. He needs his family, which means this pitch needs to work.

“The rich and powerful take what they want,” Five says slowly. “Right now, James and his family,” he gestures to the Moore file, “are suffering under an enormous weight. I’m suggesting that we provide...leverage.”

#long post #tua #the umbrella academy #leverage AU #WHOOPS #i want to say the vanya situation doesn't get that far? theyre closer in this verse #but harold very much is trying to destroy their family #luckily the others catch on and wreck his shit first #is five the sniper that killed their dad?#[sips tea] PERHAPS #submission

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selfcareparker · 3 years

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yesss the letter format 💝💓💘💖💞💕💖💞💓 (lovely anon)

my dearest aria (a hamilton reference lmao),

i’m home alone (bc i wanted the house alone to get my head together after my brothers were mean to me 🙃) and i’m so hype LMAO but i’m watching chloe x halle’s tiny desk concert and honestly just vibing. (this is so random) besides zendaya like they are my badass black women role models. my one accomplishment would be to learn to body roll like them LMAO

oh nevermind i can’t have anything nice, my dad just came home 🙃 WHAT A WAY TO START OFF THIS ASK WTFFF

i’m liking tfatws, the second episode was veryyy intense imo but WANDAVISION IS SO GOOD😭 i knew it was going to be my favorite from the really old trailer but it’s really good and i promise it’s not just sitcoms, girl especially cuz you’ll have all the episodes already out- we were having to wait every week😭 BUT ITS SO GOOD I PROMISE HDJSHDJSH lmao reading this i was like “i- the episodes aren’t an hour long” but i feel that, it’s hard for me to watch tfatws bc they are an hour long and i’m like 😐 but wandavision episodes are less than 30mins bc I KID YOU NOT they have the damn 10 MINUTE CREDITS DHDJSJ no i don’t think we’ve talked about this b4 lol but it all depends on the series for me. i binged love island uk in less than a week bc i was so invested and LITERALLY LOVE IT but uh those episodes are like an hour and a half, but say i was binging tfatws (it’s so hard to type that ohmigosh) i honestly would not be able to do it bc of the intensity (you may be like what intensity but if you’ve seen episode 2 by the time you’re reading this.......... isaiah and the scene afterwards is all i have to say, esp me being black it was so tough :/)

girl you’re fine, as long as you’ve experienced it once hahaha i think the reason why it’s so important to my family (this letter feels so personal and extreme HSJSJA IM SORRY) is bc my grandmother loved it and in my family i guess it’s just important to us lol like my mom and dad love it too and we have the literal VHS tapes LMAO, but it only came up recently cuz my youngest brother was watching lion guard HAHA and he wanted to see the originals :) and fun fact (unless you already know) but there’s a lion king part 2 and 1 1/2 and i have all three ON VHS HAHAHA but i love lion king 1 duh (the og) but part two’s music and love story..... is so good. anyway. 🦁

I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING DURING THE WHOLE MOVIE THEATER ENCOUNTER THING HAHAHA AND WHEN SHE WAS SAYING AWKWARD I WAS LIKE WTF THE NOISE LMAOOOO i don’t think there’s a better way to describe that whole situation than ZKDHDJSHAJAJSHDJSNAHA. yeah. yeaaaa at the cinemas (i like the word cinema more than movies 🥰) here they have chips (fries), some have ice cream, nachos, drinks, hot dogs, the cinema we were at had pretzels and like BURGERS I WAS LIKE HUH OKAY and ya know obviously popcorn but i don’t know why the theaters (or cinemas) here do that, it started a long time ago though like yearsssss

PLEASE i have the longest movie watchlist and uhh haven’t seen any of them JDJSKA (istg i use HSJSSKSH as a period - like . ) i’m still hype for cherry but very hesitant (idk if i can handle it) but i’m thinking about watching it in the next couple of weeks? i know it’ll take me forever bc i’m gonna have to keep pausing and shit but idk. i’ve asked around for very specific trigger warnings and time stamps so i REALLY know what’s coming (even if it spoiled the film a bit for me) but i do really wanna see it (i think? writing this now i’m not so sure lol) so whooooooo really knows lol, but chaos walking YES i was really excited about it :))) and about my friend uhh dude you don’t sound mean at all i was literally thinking the same thing but worse HAAKL idk what she was there for???? she bought my ticket tho so 💁🏾‍♀️ whatever

“SIMS ahh, BUNK BEDS ahh” had me cracking up lmao and you know my sims status JAJAHHAJ but i’m gonna become like you, saving every 5 minutes 😭 but that’s exactly what happened to me, i really didn’t know whether to shut it off or not but after 2 hours i was heartbroken lol i’m literally making a list of things i need to redo that wasn’t saved lmao

CAN I JUST SAY UR A MASTERMIND THOUGH??? UR SIMS GAME SOUNDS SO *chefs kiss* IM CRINE university is PAINFULLY long and LITERALLY I FEEEL THAT like you can’t do anything else without failing, i had my sim go to a party once for like a few hours and i felt so dumb afterwards like urgh he should’ve been studying LMAOO just cracking down on work honestly. UR NEIGHBOR!AU IN THE SIMS PLEASEEE i am very much in love with it, yes. (pouring rain has just suddenly begun where i am rn wow ok) i love that you put them on the same lot, that was really really smart and i love that ur living out your sexuality in the sims😭 i was abt to say “now you can say you’ve got experience bc of the sims” but ANYWAY IGNORE ME fhdhs THE ALIEN BABY DHSJSK i hope it’s not a dealbreaker for enisa. that’d be tragic. IM BACK IN UPPERCASE THO BC YES MAKING OUT IN THE SIMS IS SO HOT TO ME??? I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE STFU OH MY GOSH- all the stuff, whispering sweet nothings, and the making out, and JUST ALL OF IT!!! AM I TOUCH STARVED????? there was this time i made my sim just continue to woohoo bc it was turning me on big time. ANYWAY

half way through that i had to go to my grandmothers house (not the one that likes lion king, but uh hmm idk if you remember but i was talking abt my shit family so yeah that grandmother lol) so now i’m finishing this 🥴 and instead of chloe x halle i’m watching a tom interview lmao & if this takes me longer than 30 minutes.... imma cry

I REALLY WANNA ASK- IS IT BC UR GERMAN LIKE YOU CAN JUST WRITE OUT THAT LONG ASS WORD???? i mean i can’t write out supercalafrag- anyway, but that word is a bit nonsense, UR WORD IS A REAL WORD DUDE HDJSHS i love how ur like “maybe i mixed up these words” YEA OK.

lol i had to google what are waveformers lol (lol makes a comeback) and they look like curlers that you would sleep in (here we would call them curlers or uhm i forgot uhhhhhhh rollers i think) but ur fine when am i ever making sense?? i think the best part about these is the chaos yet we understand what the other means 😌

H20 H20 H20 OH MY GOODNESS SHE BROUGHT UP H20 OK MY LIFE WAS H20🥲 I HAVE THEIR LOCKET NECKLACE AND (short storytime) when i was younger i thought they were american despite their accents (idk i was dumb) but then i figured they weren’t when lewis went to go study in america HAHAH ALSO FAVORITE COUPLE CLEO AND LEWIS UGH WATCH ME REWATCH THE SHOW NOW THANKS (also i hated elizabeth so much) but anyway back on topic, when lewis went to go study in the US i looked up where the show took place and all that good stuff and i found out they were australian HAHAH and that started my obsession with accents LMAO the uk :’)) (i’m proofreading AND AUSTRALIA IS NOT A PART OF THE UK LMAOO IM SOO DHSJSSHS) also it is now one of my many goals (besides the body roll HAHAH) to go to mako island (that’s what it’s called right??)

about music, i googled stormzy and i might listen to a song of his.. LOL I WANNA GIVE IT A TRY IMMA DO IT FOR YOU NFDVSFSG lmaoo the german rapper had me cackling (autocorrect once again being helpful and said raper and i’m like nOO) i mean we all have that one person. can’t lie, won’t lie. my one (IM SORRY BUT AUTOCORRECT HAD “MY ONE TRUE ACCOMPLISHMENT” SITTING AND READY HDJSJA I DONT EVEN TYPE THAT wHAT) person out of my white soft boy with brown hair and brown eyes type would beeeee pete davidson. love me some petey. i was gonna say rex orange county as well lmao but i don’t really loveeee him i’m just in love with his music... and wanna be friends with him..... so 👉🏾👈🏾 (i never do that fdshsh)

oh my goodness, i love tattoos too- GASP what are you thinking of getting 🥺 i want tattoos too but i’m too indecisive to figure out what to have & where. especially in my family... idk they aren’t frowned upon but my mom’s not applauding the thought lol, if i got one it would have to be meaningful but i am absolutely in love with (for example) ariana grande’s finger tattoos !! they’re so cute and simple :’) i don’t even know if i can get tattoos? my skin is... interesting. not in a bad way!! just like.... idk how to explain it??? keyloids run in the family & i got a piercing once and it got infected soo :/ the doctor also confirmed that if i wanted tattoos they couldn’t be in color so LMAO

ONCE AGAIN THIS WHOLE THING FEELS SO TMI DHSHSSJ IM LIKE OHMIGOSH SHUT UP SHE DOESNT CARE JESJSKS

in regards to you not sleeping, i wanted to mention that dumb bird, what was the reason it was up so early aT 4AM???? SIR WHO YOU CALLING TO??? also it’s 11:30pm and idk why i’m tired???

yeah i was never SUPER into justin so i don’t know exactly what albums you’re talking about lol, i do know yummy though.. but everyone did hahaha also i listen to so much pop 🙈 i mean maybe... idk what would count as pop and what wouldn’t. that new person feeling though.. i get that. it’s like who is this new person..? i kinda feel like that with taylor swift (i was never THAT into her either though so it’s like oh wait i didn’t know you from the beginning instead of hello old friend but you’re different lol)

about the concerts, thanks 🥰🥰 that’s so sweet what you did for your mom too, it’s nice seeing them so happy like 🥲 awh AND GLEE IS AND WAS MY LIFE FOR A V V LONG TIME, i’ve been meaning to rewatch it for the longest time lmaooo but i’m just so lazy and it’s such a commitment... i’ll have to get emotionally involved again and idk if i want that rn. but i have a friend on instagram and she runs a glee fan account and it’s such a big part of her life i really don’t think i could ever be THAT obsessed with something. like another one of my friends loves tom holland so much that she changed her mom’s name in her phone to what tom’s mom’s name is in his phone (that was confusing lol) and obviously i’m not judging them AT ALL, it just couldn’t be me lol

CONCERTS LOOK LIKE SO MUCH FUN 😩😩 LIKE THE EXPERIENCE AND THE FEELINGGG URGHSJS i wanna see a few people live like ari and chloe x halle and- hmm.... idk who else FJDSJ rex orange county i guess huh anyway, the experience just sounds so amazing and the atmosphere is just ✨✨✨ yeah

aria do it do it do it do it do it- watch hamilton!! but with subtitles bc you won’t catch half of the things they’re saying without them LMAO (me and my family watched it and they all didn’t like it bc they didn’t know what was happening lol) BUT DONT WATCH IT AT 4AM LMAO ITS LITERALLY 3 HOURS LONG

yes!! superior peter fics 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and it just shows how much of an incredible writer AND PERSON you are through your fics that you can turn a blurb into 2k....... like what.

LMAO the annoying thing, sometimes i feel like i’m bothering people (like right now HAHAH) but i think it’s my antisocial side being like yeaa no one wants to talk to you like you wanna talk to them :’) idk it’s strange!! sometimes i get really ✨insecure✨ and overthink everything LOL like is this too long, im talking too much, i’m swearing too much, oh lord i’m a pain, all that good shit lmao so that’s fun:))

ALSO YOUR BLOG IS SO FUN TO ME HAHAK LIKE ITS JUST YOUR OWN AND I LOVE THAT!!! like you talk about everything and anything on here lol,, and i say that bc what you said lmao how if i was someone else i would want to fuck me so bad😭 i honestly don’t understand how i don’t have people lining up though..... but if no one’s gonna tell you... then you tell yourself, period (and sometimes telling yourself is fucking yourself HSHAJKS OK NEXT)

ohmigosh the realization you had that you graduated last year and are going to uni this year🤧 but the fact that you had a teacher who LEFT THE GROUP CHAT bc she was mad at y’all i- 😭 but yeah about your maths (i always wondered why you guys call it maths and the US calls it math. like i know so many people out of the states, not just in the uk that say maths) teacher- i saw this post that said online school is looking a lot like dora the explorer😭😭 “you have any questions?” 🦗 “okay bye then” lmao and please i love when tests have nothing to do with what you studied like ??? thanks? sometimes i get scared that my teacher will somehow find out that i googled everything? or like my answer is too close to the answer sheet or something. i get sooo nervous lol but i’m already past that point of not being able to do anything myself DHJS i mean i’m still learning like i said!! read the question, read the answer. boom. now i know the answer to the question and i learned!

THANKS 🙈🥰🤧 idk how else to explain my feelings LMAO i feel it’s cool that you find my dance lessons and voice lessons cool so thanks :’)

oh god not headache season 😭😭 allergies are the worst like it’s not even funny. is headache season just when the seasons are changing or is it like... all throughout the summer? cuz i love the summer lmaoo i love the winter too but i just love wearing as little clothes as possible LMAO

GIRL IF THAT BIRD DONT STOP CHIRPING- i am 100% convinced that it is the same bird trying to give you headaches and no sleep and it needs to stfu 😤 and pLEASE ur theme is adorable and pretty and cute but also it just feels like you? idk if i’m explaining this right or if it’s bc i’ve been talking to you for a bit but it’s cute but not innocent in a way that i’m surprised that you write smut and- yeah, that didn’t make sense!! but ur new theme is gonna look pretty too and as long as you like it, it’ll be amazing🥰

yessssss the fact that megan is gonna be ur pfp YES JUST YES

edit: ok i just need to 🥺😭 sometimes u make me wanna cry cuz i feel like you’re just a kind person. i truly mean this, the fact that you celebrate yours & others stretch marks makes me so 🥺🥺🥺 i honestly don’t know anyone who has said they want need more stretch marks and it’s just all very lovely to me :’)) OKAY IMMA STOP BEING SAPPY

#yes my fake tags are back #by popular demand #aka me #and look i have actual tags this time! #i’m seriously craving water ice rn....... huh #but it’s past midnight and i fr fr want a snack #aw man #i wrote that last paragraph while doing my tags yes #and i hope you become responsible for that anon’s orgasm #assuming they had one #and i saw your response to the tom thing and yeaa when they only look like that for something and it’s like aw bae be yourself #i’m gonna shut up now and find a snack but goodnight!! morning?? IDK #IF THESE TAGS END UP AS ACTUAL TAGS I AM SO SORRY HAHAHA #alright proofreading done and i’m gonna go eat cereal

okay i‘m on my way to a driving lesson rn and afterwards i have a zoom uni thing, and then another uni thing lmao. but hopefully i can reply to this in between because i‘ve been dying to talk to you since i got this ask dldjds💘💘💘 (i really like this heart. i had a 💖 phase for a while and now it‘s 💘 (seems like a very romantic heart but.... it is what it is idk dkddj)

^okay that was literally all i wrote before my lesson lmfao. just had the worst driving lesson ever dbdvsnylkxsksj i think i‘ve gotten too used to being good at driving and now i‘ve gotten too cocky with it 🥴 anyway i‘ve had such a stressful day and overall week but tbh i‘m already feeling better bc i can (indirectly) talk to you <333

omg i went to chloe or halle (i don‘t remember who out of the two)‘s instagram the other day and found out that they are not twins alejeleksjsksj but yes oh my god their voices are literally angelic and i can‘t wait to see Halle as Ariel (Arielle??)🥰 and omg it‘s literally 2021 and we‘ve only had......... one(?) black Disney Princess like it‘s about fucking time (I might be forgetting someone, I‘m not too familiar with the new Disney films, but as far as I remember there‘s only Tiana right? (who is literally a frog for 3/4 of the film 😭😭) so yes i‘m here for it too😌😌😌 (obviously she‘s not a cartoon like tiana ekdlek but she‘s a disney princess you know what i mean ddkjdh)

pfkejdj i‘m already overwhelmed with my parents i can‘t imagine having siblings too 😭😭 (sometimes i wish i had siblings but then other times (like after reading what you wrote dksjj) i‘m glad that i‘m an only child lmao like your brothers being mean to you and i remember when you cried and he was just like 👁👄👁 ok. like i’m totally okay being an only child sksjsj———and he doesn‘t listen to music 🤧🤧🤧 (although i guess that‘s good for you because at least he can‘t annoy you by listening to loud music that you hate dmdn)

okay okay i might watch wandavision then??? I‘ll definitely let you know!!! and yes omg i‘m loving tfatws (that really is so fucking hard to type omg) but same i totally get what you mean, i‘m not used to watching action series at all and every episode so far has been like a little movie so i‘m glad that i didn‘t wait until it was all out cause there’s no way i could binge watch that lol) and yes last episode was really intense. i‘m glad that marvel are talking about racism because (from what i‘ve seen) they haven‘t been the best in that department, and i‘m really curious to see what they‘ll do in the next episodes (curious isn‘t the right word but excited isn‘t the right wort either, like i‘m excited but in a neutral way ? i‘ll shut up dslsksj i hate that german has so many words that you cant translate because theres a really good german word that describes how i’m feeling but i cant think of a good translation ugh)

okay i absolutely need to watch lion king (and part 2 and 1/ 1/2 dksksj) AND hamilton, i might even do it soon 👀

BURGERS AT THE CINEMA? EBEEISNDBEKSK i‘ll come to the US just to go and watch a movie lmaooo, i think all the popcorn sizes and drinks are bigger as well, i‘ll come and watch chaos walking with you 😌😌 does next week work?

and yeah i‘ve seen posts with specific time stamps and trigger warning for cherry too so if you haven’t looked on tumblr yet i’ve def seen some! (but ive also seen some on twitter and yeah- i mean idk youve probably looked on tumblr but yeah- then there’s also imdb which doesn’t have time stamps i believe but quite specific warnings, mostly without spoilers!)

Tbh i don‘t think i would have even considered watching cherry if tom wasn‘t in it... (i’m personally fine with most of the triggering topics/things like for some reason i’m just stoic when i’m watching the most tragic films ever dldldldlbut the plot just... idk if it‘s for me you know? just entertainment wise?).... and even with tom in it i‘m unsure skeldls, i‘d totally get if you decide not to watch it but let me know if you do i‘d want to hear your thoughts! <3

SKSLSJJ my sims both finally graduated!! i think i played sometime last week, and i literally got the achievement/notification that i‘d been playing with this household for 24hours.... and that was BEFORE they graduated dldjdldkdksjjs

oh no my tumblr broke and three paragraphs of me talking about sims were deleted 😭😭😭

WAIT NO I TOOK SCREENSHOTSSKSK because i couldn’t press save so i knew they might be gone okay okay okay i‘m a genius

*move out

oh no idk if the quality is too bad to read... idk how good your eyes are dkdkdjjd (also sometimes it will be really bad quality for some but not for others so i hope that the you can see the pics in a normal/good quality)

Okay let me continue

OMG THE ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL STUFF IS THE BEST PART ABOUT THE SIMS DIDLDKJIkdkj i kind of miss how in the sims 3 they would be making out basically lying on top of each other if they were on a bed— but in sims 4 when they‘re sitting next to each other and everything that‘s definitely hot too 😌😭 or with hot tubs dkdkdk how one sim climbs on the other sim‘s lap before they woohoo (i used to make them skinny dip in the hot tub and then make out and woohoo so they’re like naked on top of each other even if you can‘t see anything- en e waysss)

Dkdkdkdj so @ Rindfleischet.. blah bla. so it‘s basically just loads of individual words put together/connected and that‘s a really big part of german. so yesterday i had an online Einführungsveranstaltung for uni (like it was a zoom meeting where they just talked about general stuff about the uni and i was really anxious before, idk why, but it turned out absolutely fine so) and that words consists of the two words Einführung (introduction) and Veranstaltung (event) which are also two individual words but you can make a new word (Einführungsveranstaltung, so in english that‘s basically “introduction event“ lmao) by combining those two words. there are obviously some rules like you can‘t just combine random words in a random order but you can basically make infinite words (technically). for example (i feel like i‘m teaching a class just skip this if you don’t care 🙃🙃🙃djdjdkdlns)

for example i could say Einführungsveranstaltungsteilnehmer (which is not underlined with red by tumblr because it is a grammatically correct compound word (i think that‘s what they‘re called?)) which is the words introduction + event + participant, so that word just means “participant of an introductory event“ but instead it‘s one word? i hope that makes sense? dkdkkdksks i mean it makes sense in german but idk if it makes sense to you cause idk if i‘m explaining it very well lmao,

(I just deleted a really really long paragraph that i wrote about gender in the german language and grammar, you‘re welcome slsksksj)

my capacity to think has now been used up for the week 🥴🥴🥴 i absolutely do not blame you if you just skipped over that part or can‘t be bothered to (re)read my awful explanation edkflsksjdjdj (again, i had double the amount of words but i just deleted it dkdkdlslsl but what‘s left lf my german lesson is probably confusing enough already😭i‘m sorry🥴)

so to answer your question LEJDKSKJ: it‘s really common to have long words in german, words that are just word+ word+ word + word made into one long word. obv rindfleischetikettierung..... is a very extreme example and it‘s normally just 2-4 words made into one! So yup i think that comes mostly from german and talking german and growing up here and going to school here and everything dmdfnsksx

i think the best part about these is the chaos yet we understand what the other means 😌— YES. YES. Yes. I love that about us 😌😌🥰🥰/ I love us. Yes.

okay but your friend changing her mom‘s name into tom‘s mum‘s name (was that right? Dkdkdjh)—— so Justin Bieber once posted something where you could see that his Dad‘s number was saved as „Daddy Cakes“ (which, thinking back, sounds very weird ekejjej) and till this day I have my Dad’s contact name as Tata (which is serbian for Dad lmao), “Tata🍰“ in my phone because of it 😭😭😭😭🙃🙃🙃 it‘s not because of justin anymore like i‘ve just gotten used to it by now but at first i did it because of justin lol........ but nowadays i don‘t think i‘m THAT type of fan of anyone- like you know how people have fandom names (Justin‘s fans are the Beliebers, One Direction fans are Directioners (writing that hurt my soul💔💔💔)) and I wouldn‘t consider myself a fan of anyone like that. like even with tom i wouldn‘t call myself........ does tom even have a name for his fans??? Well if he does, I wouldn‘t call myself that. Like i used to be such a hardcore stan for any celebrity that i liked and now it‘s just... okay, i like em. (She says on her blog where she writes fan fiction about Tom Holland — WJDJEJDKELSKSKKSNSNDXB🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃)

Omg rex orange county!!!!!! I don‘t know that many songs like I‘ve only listened to the album pony, but i love it 💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

thanks again for what you said about my fics/writing I‘m🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Pete Davidson Pete Davidson Pete Davidson I‘m-🥰🥰🥰🥰 and I can‘t explain why. But as blissfulparker said the other day (i don‘t want to tag her and make her read through all of this lolll) “I like my men when they look like they are on the brink of death 😍“ (or something along the lines of that) eskkejs okay pete isn‘t that bad, he looks quite good on some days but other days you‘re like... is this man alive? Like i don‘t want to be mean I love Pete so much The King of Staten Island is literally my favourite film ever (although it‘s not my #1 because of how he looks, but i mean he does look good) VUT ALSO

(Okay i was gonna look for a terrible picture of him but he really doesn‘t look as bad as people say??? like. i think he‘s hot. can‘t necessarily explain why. so that‘s that on that.)

i‘m not going chronologically right now (i just keep scrolling up to your ask and replying to whatever i see first sksksksh) so i might miss a thing or two that you said

Okay Stormzy, you really really don‘t have to dkdkdjd like i think you said you don‘t really listen to rap, and uk rap is a whole nother thing from us rap because of the accent i feel like??? (That sentence did not make sense) BUT if you‘re looking for a few songs that aren‘t like RAP rap, then I‘d recommend One Second (feat HER), Superheroes, Own it (which you might know?), ummm maybe the song Lessons?, he has a ton of Lion King references by the way dkdjdj for example in Rachael‘s Little Brother but that‘s like more RAP again if you know what I mean?😭 and it‘s also like 5 Minutes long and tbh i only started liking that song a year after that album came out lmao but Rachael‘s Little Brother is possibly my fav Stormzy song, then there is Shut Up which you absolutely need to listen to just for fun dldjdjd like it‘s just pure fun and also a little funny lmao, especially if you‘re not British (i imagine so at least) cause he‘s like shuTTTT up idk dldkdjdldkjdhdhfjfbfldlsksksks

Vossi Bop is one of his classics, and then maybeee - ok so there‘s Blinded By Your Grace Pt. 2 lmaoobdjsj it‘s very (Christian/) religious but i like it a lot even though i‘m not really Christian (at least not practicing or anything) so idk about your views on religion but i do like the song a lot just by like the sound lmao

Okay so again you absolutely DO NOT have to listen to any, especially not for me dlskdj but I really do recommend the songs Superheroes, One Second and Rachael‘s Little Brother (and all the other ones i mentioned but if you don‘t listen to a lot of his songs you should at least give these three a try <3333) also let me know some of your songs? 🥺 like i dont care who they‘re by but i‘d love to listen to some that you like and Recommend 🥰🥰🥰

Okay so skdjdjdjddhhddhdhjsk... I used to watch all of my series in German (like H2O) bc obviously they were on german tv so they were german- and i knew that most of these actors i saw on tv were american and i was always SO fascinated that they all learned german for this show??? Like I actually thought they were the people‘s real voices and that these English and American actors were learning german so they could re-record the whole ass show and do everything in german dkdkdldjdjjd... i swear I thought that until I was like 14 omg. And then the first time that I watched H2O in the original version i was sooo confused about their accents because to me all actors who spoke english were American?? I mean MOST of those shows are American so I wasn‘t completely off but yeah i was definitely caught off guard when I heard all of their Australian accents for the first time 💀💀😭😭😭

@ math vs maths, math actually makes more sense in my opinion. like you have the word mathematics, then the abbreviation would obviously be math... why would English people randomly add the s from the end??? Or maybe it makes more sense after all because it‘s like plural??? Now I‘m unsure dkdkdkdj but i do say maths because that‘s how i was taught to say it and i hear the word maths more than math but yeah dldkdjs i think math might even make more sense (okay i just tried saying math and maths is easier to pronounce but again tjat might just be me, oh god i‘ll stop talking about that disgusting thing (mathematics).)

not the crickets and dora LMAOOOSNSNSMDNBS yeah that teacher was... a lot. a lot a lot a lot didjjd but she kinda liked me so she always gave me good grades/marks but the people she didn‘t like..... ooft. OOF.

Fksksjsj idek about headache season like i just know that i get headaches from the sun and i‘m allergic to only one.. type of...pollen??? (I don’t understand the science of that whole pollen thing and idek if it’s called pollen in english i just know sex pollen from fan fics😔)and yeah we have this weird wind that makes a lot of people get headaches yeahd dkdkdj. i loved the i just love wearing as little clothes as possible LMAO lllioool i love that i really do. i always struggle so much in the summer cause i never have anything to wear. i feel like i buy so many new summer clothes every year but when i end up looking for an outfit i don‘t ever find anything 😭 (so i just go naked— lmao jk jk) but i‘m generally not the biggest fan of summer so-

OMG THIS FUCKING BIRD ISTG, okay the first time i heard it i went to sleep at like 5 am, so the next day i was like let me go to bed earlier so the bird doesn‘t keep me up, so i went to bed at 4 am (🥲) and THE BIRD JUST STARTED FUCKING CHIRPING SO LOUDLY, so the next day i went to bed at 3 am AND IT FUCKING STARTED AT 3 AM and it‘s still there 😁 every. night.

and since you said you‘ve gotten used to my theme and everything (idk where this transition came from😭) so tomorrow (2nd april) we have our... wait what‘s an anniversary but for a month.? I think month is like mensus in latin OK NO THATS DEF WRONG DKDKDJ wait

So Tomorrow is our... mensiversary💘💘💘💘💘💘 or at least from the first time you sent an ask. i couldn‘t find it on my tumblr anymore because tumblr is a bit of a bitch but i remember the first thing you ever sent (in an ask) was something lovely about my writing and i always take screenshots of stuff like that, and i found it in my gallery. and i took that screenshot of your ask on the 2nd of march so i‘m assuming that‘s when you sent it 🥰🥰 i feel like i‘ve known you for a week not a month like how is it a month already????? (i mean this in a good way lmao but i really can’t believe that its been a month wtf)

omg no you make me want to cry because i just love you so much 😭😭🥺 but about the stretch mark thing it‘s just.. it‘s not even me trying to empower other women (or anyone else who has stretch marks) to shake off these dumb insecurities that the patriarchy and capitalism have instilled in us— ok no it‘s definitely that too lmao. But i mean I‘ve always loved stretch marks, i‘ve just always loved loved loved them so much so it makes me genuinely sad that people don‘t like them. so yeah. i dont really know how to explain it lol, like i‘m not (only) hoping that people realise that hating your stretch marks is giving the men and the patriarchy what they want per se- (that made no sense) it‘s just because i love stretch marks and think they‘re beautiful and also sexy. idk dldkdjls and omg the fact that you called me kind 🥺🥺🥺 like i don‘t really have a goal in life or anything, but if i had to choose a ‘goal‘ in life it would just be to be kind. (i‘ll end this here otherwise i‘m gonna talk about being kind for 30 more lines—)

And please. Do not ever feel like you‘re annoying me or sending too much. never ever ever. I get so happy when i see that you‘ve sent me an ask. No matter if it‘s a long one like this or just a short one where you‘re saying something about a post that i reblogged or something. I love hearing from/about you and talking to you 💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

P.S: i‘m so sorry for the tags you‘re about to read they make even less sense than this post, also i reached the tag limit dkdkdj but i said some butterfly tattoos look tacky... and the next thing i said was since we‘re already speaking about Ariana- I DID NOT MEAN THAT SHE WAS TACKY dldkdjsj, i meant since you already mentioned some of her tattoos lmao

#lovely anon #<3 #ALSO I LOVE YOUR TAGS SM DKDJDKDL #i definitely (accidentally) didn‘t say something about every single thing you said #but this is so long already and i don‘t want to force you to read even more of my shite dldkdjsj #(i dont day shite i say shit but sometimes shite sound funnier)#*say #omg its too mate to speak english what i meant was i‘m sire i forgot to adress some of the things you said but i tried my best iwjwskb #omg adress (address? lmao) sounds so negative i mean i‘m sure i forgot to reply to some things- also *late not mate loool #omg ignore my whole german lesson i cant believe i actually wrote all of that wtf #but it took me like 20 minutes so i don‘t want to delete it 😭#and omg i hope you got to re do everything that your sims game didnt save and that it all worked out the same #😭#I NEARLY DELETED THIS ASK WITJ MY ANSWER OH MYFUCKING GOD MY FUCKING HEART #also i realised i didnt say anything at all about uni but i dont have any news like that Einführungsveranstaltung (😭) I went to was literall #just about schedules and credits and boring stuff mostly lmao #oh and tattoos!!!! it sucks that you might not be able to get the ones that you want/get any :((((( but hopefully you can at least get some #that arent in colour? 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼#so my parents aren‘t that supportive either like they most definitely wouldnt pay for it (even though they pay for a lot of my stuff lmao)#but i think in the end they know that i‘m old enough and they can‘t stop me and they‘d accept it one day so they‘re definitely not THAT bad #maybe your parents will change their mind over time? :(#or maybe youll just get one one day and ig theyll have to get used to it lol #so i want a butterfly (thats the only thing that i‘m sure about) and there are a lot of butterfly tattoos that look really tacky #but speaking of her i actually really like ariana‘s butterfly! but idk if i want that much shading- i have a whole album with like 35 photos #of just butterfly tattoos lol- i‘ll stop here tho. ldkdkd #omg im rereading this all and it‘s so messy good luck dkdkkddl #my tags got messed up and idk how to fix it #wait did i reach the tag limit and you cant even see half of these? 😭😭😭#i‘m so confused about these tags why are they not in the correct order? 😭😭😭 ily snd i‘m so sorry for dropping this post on you none of it #none of it makes sense.

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