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hockeylvr59 · 1 year

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Here With Me Part 26 || Taylor Makar

Author’s Note: Kelsey and Taylor's Patriot Day Weekend pt. 2 FC: Marina Laswick (@marooshk on instagram).

Warnings: smut, lingering trauma // Word Count: 3.080

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Twenty Five

April 15th, 2023

Waking up in Taylor’s arms was forever going to be one of Kelsey’s favorite things. He looked so peaceful still in that state of half sleep, her koala bear of a boyfriend refusing to let her get up right away. Things were okay. They were okay. And for that she was grateful because she couldn’t imagine losing him.

Eventually though, the needs of her bladder became too demanding and Kelsey forced Taylor to let her up, returning from the bathroom to see him stretching lazily in bed.

“So we need to go to the store today because I only shopped for one dinner and breakfast but that can wait for a bit if you want to go for a run with me or take the kayaks out for a bit…” Kelsey mused as she moved to her bag to figure out what she was going to put on clothes wise.

“I’d be down for a run.” Taylor mumbled, his energy appearing quickly as he shook off the remnants of sleep.

Nodding, Kelsey grabbed the work out clothes she had brought before starting to change, not caring that Taylor’s eyes clearly lingered on her as she did so. He’d seen all of her before anyway.

Together they put in about six miles, taking in the scenery of the small town that surrounded their weekend beach house before returning to shower and change to go shopping after having breakfast.

It had looked like a really cute small downtown with quaint shops when they’d run through but nothing had been open yet as they’d awoken fairly early for a Saturday morning. So when Taylor suggested that they walk back through town before doing their grocery shopping, Kelsey had agreed eagerly.

Taylor had laced his fingers with hers before they’d even reached town and Kelsey couldn’t help but smile at the secure feeling it provided her.

Some of the things in the shops made her smile because they were just so silly but others were cute or unique and some set off ideas of things she could do with some of her scrap fabric. After all, Taylor’s parents had invited her up to Canada and she couldn’t exactly go empty handed, so maybe some hand towels or pot holders were in order.

Kelsey knew that boutique shopping probably wasn’t at the top of Taylor’s list of fun things to do but not once did he complain as she pulled him into another shop.

Though she didn’t buy anything besides a postcard to remember the trip by, Kelsey enjoyed window shopping and browsing all the same and she appreciated Taylor being willing to come along for the ride though she was sure he knew what he was in for when he had suggested it in the first place.

It was also Taylor that spotted the European cafe style restaurant and suggested that they have lunch before going to the grocery store.

Agreeing, they were seated out on the patio and immediately ordered water while they considered the menu.

Deciding to indulge since they had walked, Kelsey ordered sangria while Taylor got a beer. Then, seeing that they had award winning lobster bisque on the menu, Kelsey decided to try that for lunch while Taylor got a salmon salad.

“We should figure out our shopping list…” Kelsey mused once they had placed their orders and were just waiting for their food. “We’ve got breakfast for three days, lunch for at least two, and three dinners to plan for.”

“I’m good just continuing with omelets for breakfast.” Taylor declared. “So maybe just a few more things for that and more eggs.”

Nodding, Kelsey pulled her phone out to start a list in her notepad. Starting with condoms, because she certainly wasn’t about to let them forget those, she added eggs, vegetables that she knew Taylor enjoyed in his, plus a small thing of cheese for her.

“Any thoughts on dinners?” Kelsey questioned, switching over to her Pinterest to see if it supplied any ideas that might fit with her boyfriend’s no dairy, no gluten diet.

Eventually they settled on making chicken fajitas with gluten free wraps, doing gluten free spaghetti and meatballs, and making ribs on the grill with vegetables and potatoes - regular for her and sweet for him.

Kelsey had just finished typing up her list when their lunch was brought out to them and she smiled because it all looked delicious. They might have to come back here for another lunch since they hadn’t really figured that out beyond leftovers.

Chatting lightly about classes and Taylor’s off season training led to a discussion about another hike together and led to them making tentative plans, weather permitting, to hike Mt. Greylock the following weekend.

After finishing lunch, they walked home to get the car and finally made their way to get groceries. Immediately Kelsey sent Taylor to pick up a box of condoms while she worked her way through the rest of the store. In addition to all of the food they needed, they picked up two six packs of Truly’s since they had two and a half full days still to relax and chill.

By the time they made their way home and got everything put away, Kelsey was more than ready to sit back and watch the waves for a bit. With the knowledge that Taylor wouldn’t be able to sit and do nothing though, she roped him into playing a board game with her at the outdoor dining table.

Finding a two player version of Catan on the game shelf, they settled into it, drinks in hand. After figuring it out, they played two games before realizing that they should probably start dinner, especially since after Kelsey won the first game, Taylor had won the second and therefore had stopped pouting.

Tonight, they cooked together, Kelsey cutting vegetables while Taylor seasoned and grilled up the chicken, adding the vegetables to the grill as Kelsey got them ready. Amidst cooking, they shared soft touches and occasionally a kiss or two as they moved around each other. It left Kelsey feeling warm and content beyond the buzz of alcohol coursing through her. They were okay.

Before long they had settled down with some delicious looking fajitas and Kelsey couldn’t wait to dig into the meal she’d made with her boyfriend. There was something so domestic feeling about cooking with Taylor and she wanted so much more of it, could see them doing this beyond this weekend or this year…long into the future.

With Taylor looking as relaxed as she felt, Kelsey grinned at him and nudged his foot under the table. Love you, she mouthed before sipping at her second Truly.

Taylor couldn’t help but grin back at her, feeding off of the happy vibes she was sending. She had needed this weekend and it was nice seeing his girlfriend reappear right before his eyes. She’d been so tense and clearly off in her own head lately but right now he could tell that she was relaxed and content, just enjoying the moment.

“Love you too Kels.” He murmured softly, wanting her to hear it. The way the words made her flush a little with joy was something he’d never tire of.

As they cleared away dishes and cleaned up the little bit of leftovers, Taylor bumped against her hip playfully.

“So I hear there’s a hot tub?” He questioned casually. At the same time, his eyes communicated that his motives may have included seeing her in a bikini.

“There is…” Kelsey agreed. “If you want to finish up here I’ll go get it started and we can give it a go.”

A light tap to her ass with a hand towel signaled that Taylor agreed and so Kelsey moved to start the hot tub up as her friend had assured her it had been cleaned prior to their arrival and was ready to go.

While the hot tub got going, Kelsey moved back inside to get her suit out of her bag. With Taylor using the bathroom off the master, Kelsey worked to change into the top before heading into the bathroom when Taylor was done to pee and change into the bottoms.

“Damn.” She heard Taylor murmur under his breath when she reappeared in the suit and she made a mental note of how badly she could drive him crazy this summer if she brought some other bikinis to Canada.

“Beach towels are in the hall closet.” She instructed Taylor as she moved to put her hair up in a messy bun so that it didn’t get wet.

Finally ready she led Taylor back out to the hot tub which was now bubbling from the jets, steam forming against the cool evening air.

With the towels set off to the side, Kelsey climbed the stairs and swung herself into the hot tub, sighing at how good the warm water felt.

Sinking into it she waited for Taylor to join her, sliding to rest against her side.

“Good idea T.” She grinned, flexing and stretching her calf muscles which were a little tight after their run and subsequent walk as she relaxed back against the arm he had thrown over her shoulder.

“I have those sometimes.” Taylor grinned, squeezing her gently.

“It’s been so long since I’ve used one of these, forgot how good it feels.”

“Did I wear you out today?” He teased noting how her eyes fluttered shut as she continued to settle.

“Nope.” Kelsey assured him, popping the p. “But I’m hoping that you will tonight…” As she trailed off, her eyes opened to peer up at him.

“Is that right?” He questioned, speaking low against the shell of her ear.

Holding his gaze, Kelsey let her eyes do all the talking as her fingers dipped to scrape her nails gently against his thigh.

For a long moment, Taylor looked down at her before reaching to tug her to straddle his lap under the bubbling water.

The way he kissed her after that made Kelsey’s toes curl. It was deep, his tongue delving into her mouth as he held her body tight against his. It was lazy, but held all the promise that whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her in time. It made the desire pool in her core more and more as the minutes passed with only pauses to breathe.

Grinding down against him, Kelsey moaned softly. He felt so good and she needed him badly. And not just to make love to her as good as that was. She needed him to use his big body against her, driving her completely wild.

“Take me inside.” She mumbled, breaking the kiss to speak softly into his ear. As much as she needed fucked, that was not happening in a hot tub. She couldn’t help but mentally cringe at the thought of how unsanitary that would be.

Taylor pulled her mouth back to his, nipping at her lips before he finally pulled back and carefully shifted her body off of him so that he could slide out of the hot tub.

“Come on then…” He agreed, offering her a hand and a towel as they quickly dried. With Taylor pulling her inside, Kelsey giggled as she reached to put the tub to its inactive mode before finally letting him drag her into the privacy of the house.

Taylor’s hands felt amazing as he worked to strip her out of her suit, leaving a pile of wet clothes on a towel for them to collect later.

“Don’t be gentle…” She assured him, communicating how she wanted all of this to go.

“Got it.” He mumbled, pushing his own trunks to the ground, kicking them aside before picking her up, his dick pressed against her belly as he carried her back to the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed unceremoniously.

Instead of climbing in beside her, Taylor’s hands wrapped around her ankles, pulling her toward the bottom of the bed. It was then that he sunk to his knees, his body settled between her thighs. Though he pressed a couple of kisses along her hips and against her knee he wasted no time in getting his mouth on her core.

Kelsey could only moan as Taylor worked her body closer and closer to the brink with his tongue and lips. Somehow every time he did this it only seemed to get better. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, which only spurred Taylor on further. It wasn’t long before his arm was pinning her hips to the bed as she bucked beneath him.

“Kels…” Taylor mumbled in warning, his face messy with her fluids as he pulled back to peer up at her. She knew that he wanted her to stay still but it wasn’t exactly easy when his mouth was doing such incredible things to her body.

“You could just fuck me already.” Kelsey replied breathily though she knew that he wouldn’t, not until he’d made her cum.

“I could huh?” Taylor prompted, tone on the edge of teasing as he kissed along her thighs because he knew that at this point she expected an orgasm before he was inside of her.

“Taylor…” She whimpered, going crazy having been so close prior to him pulling away.

Thankfully Taylor was too much of a sweetheart to keep her hanging and he lapped back over her core, sucking at her clit until she was falling apart into pieces beneath him.

While she caught her breath, Taylor moved to get a condom from the box they had bought earlier and slid it on, mimicking the way she had applied it yesterday.

“Knees Kels.” He directed, tapping her side gently. She had said not to be gentle and for Taylor that meant putting her into the position where he could slide the deepest and get the best leverage at the same time. The fact that she had previously communicated that it was one of her favorite positions only added to it.

Once Kelsey had settled comfortably, Taylor knelt onto the bed behind her, his hands drifting to her hips.

“T…please.” She pleaded softly and unable to deny her, Taylor lined himself up to press inside her in one smooth stroke.

Immediately she let out the prettiest sound and Taylor cursed softly as his dick twitched because of it. Holding her hips still he continued thrusting into her, varying his speed and force and drawing more sounds from her throat.

The rougher his thrusts were, the louder she became and so Taylor let himself go knowing that she would tell him if it was ever too much. It definitely wasn’t, his body knowing hers as well as it did, and Kelsey knew that this orgasm was going to be incredible. The way it rolled over her forced her to clamp around him drawing out his own climax and they collapsed together onto the bed, Taylor taking precautions not to crush her under his weight.

“Fuck…” Taylor mumbled, his head tucked into her shoulder. Kelsey could only nod in response, making Taylor’s chest rumble with laughter. As he shifted to pull out, Kelsey dug her nails into his forearm.

“Not yet.” She pleaded softly. The pressure and fullness created from him just resting inside of her even as he grew soft was too good to give up just yet even though she knew that he needed to pull out so they could both clean up.

Taylor certainly had no complaints about remaining with her warm, wet core wrapped around him. The fact that she regularly requested he stay for a few more minutes made a wave of contentment roll through him. Clearly there was something about it she liked a lot.

When he finally did pull out he did so carefully, making sure that the condom remained intact until he could remove it and dispose of it into the trash. With that done, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under some warm water before taking it back to Kelsey to clean her up. Then he kissed her gently, silently checking in to make sure that that had been okay and what she had wanted from him. He really did take the best care of her and she kissed him back just as softly, pouring her love for him into the kiss.

After finally getting feeling back in her legs, Kelsey untangled herself from Taylor’s nude body, getting up to pee before returning to the bedroom where Taylor was digging clean boxers out of his bag.

“You know we could sleep nude…” She mused, drawing his attention.

“Not sure my dick is ready for that.” He replied and the look he shot her told her that this was going to be one of those protecting her things, at least for a while longer.

“Okay.” She agreed, moving to grab underwear from her bag while stealing the t-shirt he had worn this afternoon after their post run shower.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He questioned seeing her.

“Always.” She teased. “At least a little.”

Her giggles turned into a squeal as he pulled her flush against his chest and tickled her before kissing her deeply until they both fell into bed.

*****

April 18th, 2023

While in Connecticut, Kelsey and Taylor maintained a similar low key routine. They woke up and exercised together, be it a run or yoga or taking the kayaks out on the bay. Then they showered and had breakfast or brunch before either enjoying the beach, playing a game, adding in another round of sex, or just relaxing. Dinner each day was followed by either another trip out in the kayaks, some slow dancing, or time in the hot tub before they fell into bed whether to sleep or fool around.

By the time they were packing up the car to head back to campus late Tuesday morning, Kelsey’s demeanor was completely different, she was back to the girl Taylor had fallen in love with in the first place. After everything, she finally felt secure once more and for that alone, Taylor wouldn’t have traded this trip for anything.

Though he knew that she wouldn’t be quite as relaxed once they were back in the real world, he hoped that the feeling of security she had gained would remain with her through the coming weeks and months as they headed toward summer and their first real time apart.

#taylor makar #taylor makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #taylor makar nws #nws #lemon #nhl smut #hockey smut #cavalanche #046

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polikszena · 2 years

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Ficlet advent calendar - December 8

Title: You’re a mean one, Mr Hands

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death, The Full Monty

Characters: Lucius Spriggs, Stede Bonnet, Edward Teach (Blackbeard), Black Pete, Izzy Hands, Wee John Feeney

Relationships: Lucius / Black Pete

Word Count: 899

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Warnings: Stronger language

Songs: You’re a Mean One, Mr Grinch; Last Christmas by Wham!

Summary: This is another installment of my Our Flag Means Death - The Full Monty AU in which the Revenge's crew are unemployed steel factory workers who decide to put together a chippendale show. In this chapter, they are preparing for a Christmas show, but not everyone is happy about it. All of it told by Lucius Spriggs himself.

Notes: This chapter is related to a one-shot I wrote in April , and since I enjoyed writing it a lot, I knew I would get back to it sometime. Also, I love the dynamics between Lucius and Izzy, but I don't ship them romantically.

And this one sets in the late 1990s, so way before Backstreet Boys did actually release a cover of Last Christmas. (Apologies to everyone who loves that song, by the way.)

December 8 – You’re a mean one, Mr Hands

Lucius Spriggs’ diary – Thursday

Fun day at the (Blow)Job Club! We were planning our Christmas show, The Naked Santas (we might need another title as this one is way too revealing), and I can tell, it’s going to be absolutely gorgeous! Although there are still some arguments whether the Santa costumes should be all red or have different colours. Stede wants to keep it colourful, but Edward wants to keep them red. They tried to make the others vote, but it doesn’t really matter as all the clothes will be taken off. I just hope they will be made of some nice fabrics, because the Santa costumes you can buy in Tesco, for instance, are one: ugly as hell, and two: I have allergic reactions when they touch my skin. Trust me, it's not a nice sight.

All in all, the Christmas show is going to be a blast. Too bad we’ll probably have to dance to Last Christmas, which is so boring, but we can’t really skip it as it’s a classic. I hope Frenchie can mix it up a little, but honestly, it won’t help much. I mean, what can you do with a song that goes like “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, / but the very next day you gave it away”? Ugh. The only good thing about this song is that postcard that starts playing it once you open it. I sent one to Jerky Jeremy two years ago after our breakup. Such a shame that I couldn’t see his face when he opened the card!

Anyway, we were listening to Frenchie’s mixtape, when our personal Grinch turned away from the computer (on which he was adjusting his CV) and started a long monologue about how stupid Christmas was and how pointless was taking our clothes off to cheesy Christmas music. I’m kind of glad that it happened when Stede and Edward were out to check the venue and didn’t hear it.

“You’ve never been taken to a sleigh ride, and it shows,” I told him, walking to his chair. “But it’s never too late for one,” I offered, because it’s obvious how badly this guy needs to blow off some steam. Otherwise he’ll explode and we’ll all be covered by Izzy Hands’ organs which would be more disgusting than Backstreet Boys doing a cover of Last Christmas. I mean, they are cute, but this would make an already horrible song even worse.

“I’d rather be run over by the bin lorry,” Izzy said, looking at me as if I was some chewing gum he accidentally stepped into on his way home. Or as if I was responsible for the existence of Last Christmas.

“We can arrange that,” Wee John said, looking up from the ‘Puzzles for Kids’ section of the newspaper.

I had an even better idea.

“Frenchie, please rewind the tape to the previous song,” I told him. “I want to try something.”

While he was doing that, I made some head circles and hip moves to warm up a little, and once Frenchie pressed play on his cassette player, I started dancing. I did a performance just for Mr Hands to the song You’re a Mean One, Mr Grinch, but of course, changed “Grinch” to “Hands” as I lip-synced to it. I didn’t take off any clothes (yet), as the things I’m currently wearing are not exactly stripper friendly. Not to mention, the floor was hella dirty and full of germs. No way I’m throwing my white knitted sweater there. But I pretended to take off everything. All eyes were on me, and I absolutely loved it.

Of course, before I got to the part where I’d do a little lap dance, Dizzy Izzy knocked the chair over, told me to eff myself, then ran out of the room. He almost crashed into Stede and Edward who had just came back.

“Where are you going?” the latter asked.

“That was wonderful, Lucius!” Stede exclaimed. “We should add it to the show, don’t you think?” he asked, looking around the room.

The others all agreed with him, so I can proudly announce that I got my solo number! I still have to work out the lap dance parts, but I guess I’ll ask for some help.

“Look at this nice plant I’ve found hanging down from the ceiling on the corridor!” Edward said, pointing at the mistletoe pinned to his coat. “So cool, isn’t it?”

Honestly, someone should explain to this man how Christmas traditions work because this is an outrage. Especially because we put up that bloody mistletoe for him and Stede to finally kiss, and what does this moron do? Pins it on his coat! I swear to God, this is unacceptable!

However, before I could have said anything about it, Black Pete stepped to me.

“That was so hot,” he told me with a smile forming at the corner of his lips, “that I want to kiss you and I don’t care who sees it.”

I couldn’t hide my grin anymore. I kind of knew this was coming.

“Please do,” I said, and he didn’t have to be asked twice.

Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day in the cupboard in the back of the room.

TO DO:

Finish my solo number

(Ask Pete to be the test audience)

Explain to Edward what mistletoes are for

Read it on AO3

#our flag means death #lucius spriggs #black pete #izzy hands #stede bonnet #blackbeard #edward teach #my fics #lucius x black pete #the full monty #modern au #ficlet advent calendar 2022 #christmas

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awritingcaitlin · 6 months

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March Wrap-Up

Wow somehow it’s already April. But also… finally it’s April. March felt like it went by in a flash and also like it dragged on forever. 💜Regarding Me💜 So the packing chaos continued into March as we continue to prep to move. In addition to packing came cleaning and other necessary things to get a house on the market. We also went and looked at new houses, and there’s some we really like, but without our current house selling first, it’s too soon to put an offer on one.

Currently, I’m living in ~staged house purgatory~ which is a real fun time in which we pretend we don’t live in the house and thus there is no trash, no litter boxes, and no extraneous items laying out. 🙃

Freelance work has picked up a little, but I’m hoping I get something more regular to cover both some of the expected and unexpected expenses of moving. 💻At the Keyboard💻 Despite all the moving shenanigans, I got back into writing late in the month! I’ve officially rewritten the first five chapters of Heist for Draft 3! A grand total of like 4k new words over the past week really. All of my main characters have been introduced and the plot is now underway. I’m really happy for the direction it’s taken and I’m crossing my fingers that the next five chapters come easily to me. And then the five after that, and then the five after that…

Considering it’s Camp Nano April, even though I’m not participating on the site due to ~reasons~, I’m going to try to prioritize writing a little more this month. It’s actually hard to track word count when this is a revision and so some of the chapters will be just copied into the new draft with minimal changes. But I’d like to see maybe 50-60k total words in Draft 3 by the end of the month if I can swing it. Which should get me well into Act 2. Completing Act 2 would be an absolute stretch goal.

I’d put an expected date to have Draft 3 done by, but with moving and trying to find work, it’s hard. 📚From the Bookshelf📚 I finished Ryka Aoki’s Light From Uncommon Stars. I’ll be honest, I came to the book looking for the deals with demons and the violins. I stayed for the queerness and all the references to California. I honestly really loved the book. It didn’t shy away from talking about how being different affects a person—whether that be race, class, or identity. I also cannot even begin to describe just how much I loved reading how music was described throughout the narrative. It’s given me ideas for what I want to do in Heist and if I wasn’t moving and trying not to buy new things, I’d by a physical copy to annotate. (Maybe I’ll by an ebook and figure out how to annotate with my iPad.)

I loved every single POV and I felt like every one of them came to the table with a desire that was valid and made sense. Honestly, the only thing I didn’t like was that it felt like there were two ways the author wanted to end the book and she couldn’t decide which one worked better, so she went with both. Except they don’t 100% match up.

Do not let that keep you from reading this book however, because it’s absolutely amazing. Read it if you like music. Read it if you want to read about what it means to be a person. For what it means to be love and accepted no matter who you are. I’m still thinking about it weeks after I finished. I’ll end this here, since that’s about all I have for now. Stay tuned for whatever April brings!

#monthly wrap up

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lucy-sky · 2 years

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BERNTHIRST SPRING FLING 2022

April 22 - Flower Friday

This story is a little bit longer than the ones I wrote on Tuesday and Thursday, and also I’m not sure if Swaino is in character enough - I probably made him a bit too sweet. But since I got the idea, who am I to fight it? Also yes, this is very self-indulgent :’)

I also decided to post all the 3 stories on AO3 as well [link] and to add them to my masterlist, because why not.

“Look, Swaino, I don’t know… Buy her flowers or something.”

“Why are you so grumpy today? You sound annoyed…”

“‘Cause I am. I am annoyed! See?” You gesture at the line of customers waiting for their coffee. “I’m a little busy right now, and you keep distracting me from work.”

“Fine, fine, sorry… Guess I chose the wrong time,” Swaino gives you an apologetic look. It always works. He can be a huge dumbass and really annoying at times, but you simply can’t be angry with him for too long.

“Why are you even asking me about this?” You say in a calmer tone, handing a customer his cappuccino and grabbing a new papercup to make another. “So far, you didn’t have problems with picking up a girl.”

“Uh well… It’s sorta different this time.”

“Different?”

“Yeah, I mean… It’s not just “picking up a girl”, I… I kinda really like her, I guess,” he says, lowering his voice as if he’s telling you some big secret.

“I see,” you give him a soft chuckle. “This girl must be really special then, huh?”

“She is, yeah,” there’s an unusual warmth in Swaino’s voice, he even looks a little flustered when he says it. Wow. Apparently the man’s really in love. To be fair, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous. Just a tiny bit, but still. You're already used to being perceived by men mostly as a "bro" since you've never been great at flirting, or wearing sexy clothes, or anything like that. But no matter how many times you tell yourself you're completely fine on your own, sometimes you wish someone talked about you with such kind of warmth. Plus Swaino… Well, you hate to admit it, but you really find this bastard attractive in a way.

“Well, I really do think flowers are a nice touch,” you say. “For a start.”

“You think?”

“Yep. They create this, you know… Romantic mood. I think most girls appreciate romantic gestures, even if they don't admit it.”

“Okay, yeah… Wait, but… What kind of flowers? Roses?”

“Roses are fine, but… Some girls may find them a bit, you know… Banal.”

“Then what should I do?” Swaino looks puzzled.

“If I were you, I’d try to pick flowers that kinda… Fit her vibe,” you shrug.

“Fit her vibe… What the hell that’s supposed to mean?..”

“Look, if you like her, it means you know her at least a little bit, right? So just… Think of her and choose the flowers you feel like she would love. Or flowers that remind you of her. Something like that. I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

“Oh, okay... Got it.”

“Right. Now will you please let me work?..”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll uh… see ya around,” he nods. “Thanks a lot!”

— A WEEK LATER —

On St. Valentine’s Day you don’t feel very festive: you have a dentist appointment this morning, so you get to work later than usual.

“Hey there, Jane!” You greet your colleague as you enter the coffee shop. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s great!” Jane smiles brightly. Her expression is suspiciously mischievous.

You head to your workplace behind the counter and blink in surprise. There’s a bouquet of flowers - bright orange gerber daisies. They look beautiful and cheerful, like a bunch of sunbeams.

“What’s that?” You ask, and Jane’s grin turns wider.

“Oh! The courier brought the like half an hour ago. They’re for you!”

“What?” You stare at the flowers in confusion. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Absolutely not, I swear!”

“Okay, but… Who sent them?..”

“No idea. There was no card or anything… Probably you have a secret admirer!” Jane giggles excitedly. “So sweet!”

“No, come on…” You shake your head in disbelief. “I highly doubt it. Probably it’s a mistake. The courier got the address wrong or something…”

“But he had your full name, so it’s definitely for you! And you know what? I don’t get why you’re so surprised. It’s Valentine’s day after all…”

“Yeah, right,” you huff. Secret admirer… It sounds like a bad joke to you. You don’t really suffer from low self esteem, but for some reason you just couldn’t imagine someone having a crush on you… Maybe someone just wanted to cheer you up like this? Anyway, whoever sent the bouquet, you really appreciate their taste in flowers. Bright sunny colors like yellow and orange have always been your favorite ones, and you liked gerber daisies too. They are quite simple, not pretentious, but still very beautiful.

Your working day is almost over when Swaino enters the coffee shop.

“Hey there! Happy Valentines!” he winks as he approaches the counter.

“Hey! Right back at you,” you return the smile. “So, how’s your special girl? Did she appreciate the gift?”

“I dunno yet.”

“No?..” You frown.

“Well you see… That girl’s really very special, as you said…” he pauses before asking tentatively as he nods at the flowers on the counter, “You uh… You didn’t figure out who they’re from, do ya?”

“No, I… Wait a minute…” Your eyes widen at the sudden realization. “Did you… You send me these flowers?..”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I think they really fit your vibe. You like them?”

“They’re… really amazing, I love them. I can’t believe you actually… Turns out you know me better than I thought. But, Swaino… Why? I mean… You could just simply ask me out…”

“Just wasn’t quite sure if you’re interested in me or not, so I wanted to make sure you’re impressed enough,” he smirks.

“Jesus, Swaino,” you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re… unbelievable.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, babe. So um… Will you go out with me?” He raises his eyebrows.

“After this performance I guess I have no chance to say no,” you say, and he beams at you happily.

“Great! How about… Right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, your working day’s over in like…” Swaino glances at his watch, “fifteen minutes, am I right? And it’s Valentines, so…”

He looks at you with this cheeky wide grin on his face that makes his eyes crinkle adorably, and you think he already knows your answer.

“Okay. Why the hell not?”

a special tag for @skvatnavle because she loves Swaino :)

#BernthirstSpringFling #jon bernthal #terrance swaino x reader #small engine repair #lucy tries to write #moodboard #aesthetic #*#**#darlingshane

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dykejake · 3 years

Text

christmas wrapping | j.m.k

pairing: josh kiszka x f!reader

this fic is based off of christmas wrapping by the waitresses!

part one - 1,383 words

December, last year

You could not believe you’d forgotten your snowboard boots, of all things. An hour and a half drive to the ski resort, and you didn’t have boots. Everything else? In the car. Helmet, goggles, snow pants, gloves, the actual board… even the lock and key to make sure you could leave your board on the rack without it getting stolen.

It wasn’t like your lack of gear was holding anyone up, you’d decided to take this day for yourself, so at least there was that. You were just debating with yourself whether or not you should rent a pair of boots or splurge and buy a new pair.

It wasn’t like your boots were in great shape - they really weren’t. You’d bought them off Facebook marketplace secondhand because you spent most of your gear budget on the actual board and bindings. You hadn’t bought anything new this year anyways… you could afford to purchase a brand new pair of boots.

Decision finally made, you locked your car and made your way over to the cute ski shop on the slopes. The shop wasn’t very big, so the selection of boots was pretty slim. There was a purple pair and a red pair in your size and that was it. They were both brand names, but you didn’t know near enough about brands to know if one would be a better choice than the other.

“Uh, I’m partial to the purple, if that helps you choose.”

You turned to face the owner of the smooth voice that had interrupted your piss poor decision making. He was a very, very pretty man with curly hair and slightly 70s looking moustache and beard.

“Yeah? Any reason for that other than the colour?”

“Well, more bang for your buck. They’re much better quality than the other brand, and they come with heat packs that you can plug in in case your feet get too cold out on the slopes. The red pair does not have that. Plus, I have the exact same pair in black. I’m Josh, by the way.”

“Thanks so much for the advice, Josh. Genuinely really appreciate it, I’m pretty terrible at decision making. I’m y/n.”

“No problem! Wanna help me pick goggles, since I helped you pick boots?

“Sure! I think you should get the blue and purple ones over there, mostly because I have that pair and if we’re gonna have matching boots, we may as well get matching goggles as well.”

The laugh that left his throat was genuine, big and loud, and it in turn made you laugh.

“Here we are, just meeting in the ski shop, and we’re gonna be one of those annoying matching couples.”

His eyes widened at your words and your cheeks pinked. Why did you say that? Oh my god, why? This random, very nice man helped you choose which boots to buy and you made it weird by, well… making it weird.

“Well, we can at least be matching acquaintances who have each other’s phone numbers, if you want. That seems like a good first step.” You were awkwardly trying to save any semblance of normalcy, hoping to god that he didn’t think you were desperate, or weird, or creepy.

His face relaxed into a smile as he fished his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pulled up a new contact page and passed it to you. You blushed, typed your name and number in, and handed it back to him with a wide grin.

“Cool! Now, I’ll text you so that you have my number.”

He typed a quick message out and you watched him hit send, then your phone dinged.

“Great, we’ve got each other’s numbers! Now, I gotta quickly buy these goggles and go join my brothers who I’m here with - they’re gonna get tired of waiting for me just because I forgot goggles. Seriously, though, text me when you can. I’d love to hear from you.”

You watched him make his purchase and then leave, flashing you one final massive grin before exiting the small shop.

April, this year

It had been four months since your encounter with the adorable man at the ski shop, and you still hadn’t properly texted him. You’d send a quick hello and an emoji, and he’d responded, and then you’d overthought it and then worried that he might think you were ghosting him, so you’d texted him a quick “life’s been busy, but you’re still on my mind!” and he’d responded with a “same here - chat later!”

It wasn’t like he wasn’t on your mind, though. His face was still vivid in your memory and your heart skipped a beat when you thought about him. You had good intentions, you promised yourself, but trying to stay in touch after one brief, interesting encounter in a skip shop was more difficult than it should be.

After overthinking everything once again, you decided to go for a record shopping excursion to clear your head. Going to the store and looking through the music selection and enjoying the scent of old records always calmed you down and let your brain re-evaluate every situation.

After a couple minutes in said record store, you could’ve sworn you heard your name. You turned, and a familiar curly-headed man was barreling towards you with a massive smile on his face.

“Ski shop y/n! I knew it was you!”

“Ski shop Josh! Oh my gosh, it’s so nice to see you!”

You tentatively held your arms out to the sides and he pulled you into a gentle, friendly hug. It was almost too tender and sweet, you didn’t want to let go.

“How’ve you been? How’s life? Sorry I haven’t texted much, I know I said I would, but life really gets in the way sometimes.” You finally pulled back from the hug to meet his eyes mid-sentence, a grin dancing its way onto your lips.

“Oh god, no worries at all. I’m terrible at texting back anyways, it’s much nicer to see you in person. What a pleasant surprise. What are you thinking about getting?”

You pulled the Pink Floyd album you had been admiring, The Division Bell, out of the bin, showing it to him.

“Hear me out, okay. I think Pink Floyd’s early stuff is absolutely incredible and they are such musical masters, but this later stuff after Roger Waters left has such a spark of joy in it and it’s so pleasant to listen to. I think this album is a hidden gem, I really do.”

“I’ll take your word on that, can’t say I’ve ever listened to the later stuff.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to take a picture of the album in your hands. “I’ll definitely put it on the to-listen list, I trust your recommendation!”

You met his eyes with a genuine, heartfelt smile. Getting to share music with other people was one of life’s greatest joys, and you really hoped he loved the album as much as you did.

“If you hate it, don’t tell me, it might break my heart.”

“I promise I won’t hate it. Anyways, would you maybe wanna grab lunch? No worries if not, this is all a bit spur of the moment, but I would love to take you out if you’re free.”

You clutched the record to your chest, contemplating your answer. You really wanted to say yes, but you’d made plans with yourself for the rest of the day and you really couldn’t be putting off your laundry any more than you already had just to have lunch with Josh. Technically, you were free, but you really shouldn’t, and you also really hated spur of the moment plans.

“I genuinely would love to, but I really need to be getting back home. Laundry won’t do itself, y’know?” You giggled nervously. “But please, please can we raincheck? I would still love to have lunch with you sometime.”

The smile never left his face, thankfully. “Hey, raincheck is good with me. Laundry’s gotta get done, for sure. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Yeah, for sure! I will text you as soon as I get home.”

“Sounds good, y/n. Have a good day, and I hope to see you soon.”

thank you to my proofreaders: @amarideberry, @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw, @theweightofstardust, and @screechesincoherently!!

taglist: @secretgvfstan, @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw, @screechesincoherently

#josh kiszka #greta van fic #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka imagine #greta van fleet

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woniepop · 3 years

Text

encore

➜ sunghoon had never fallen in love with anything the way he did with skating. the wind in his face, the crunch of the ice beneath his feet, it was wonderful. and yet, something about it made your blood boil. you once loved ice skating too, for the same reasons as he, but maybe all you needed was a simple goodbye to understand park sunghoon.

wc: 4.6k

genre: ice skating au, best friends to lovers (ish), angst, fluff, romance, slice of life

content warnings: illness, mentions of medication, mentions of blood, death, mentions of anxiety, mentions of fainting, hospitals, angst, death of a loved one

heavily based off Your Lie in April

tagging: @svnghoonie @unghoon @swanlakesujin @heeblr @sweetseung @ferxanda @katberri @usdolans @kisshoons @scintillasofbeomgyu @leemika @qngelhoonie

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time i’m writing something like this, so i hop eyou guys enjoy it because i’d be super down to write more in the future.

Friday, October 16, 2020

The busy sounds of couples, families, and friends fill the air as the cold wind hits your face. Holding hands with your mom, you glide through the ice, laughter filling the entire rink. The bleachers, the other skaters, the floor, it all disappears and the only thing that’s left is you and your mom. Your seven year old self had never felt so alive.

And yet, here you were, seventeen, staring off into the ice rink as other kids and their mothers ice skated. Ever since you fell in love with the sport it had been the bane of your existence. Mom died, so you stopped. You swore to never go back again, it gave you anxiety. You tried, you really did, but something about being on the ice reminded you so much of the past you wanted to leave behind. It went downhill from then on.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” a familiar voice calls out to you. Sunghoon, who had been practicing for his upcoming competition, leans against the side of the rink, talking to you who was sitting on the bleachers.

“Just my mom again,” you reply.

“It’s been a while since she passed away, huh. Should we go get some ice cream to cheer you up then?” He says as he skates towards the exit, walking to you. You stand up, bag in hand, and wait for him to change out of his skates. Sunghoon, who had been your best friend since your five year old skating class, had been with you through everything. He always seemed to know just what to say to cheer you up.

“Hey, y/n. Do you think you’d ever try to skate again?” Sunghoon asks, fully knowing the answer but hoping maybe this time it'll be different.

“Haha, you really want me to get back into skating that badly?”

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve done it. You don’t have to compete with me again, you know. But why don’t you just try it again for fun?”

You stop in your tracks and think about it. It wouldn’t hurt to try for fun. It was your life at one point. “Fine, tomorrow afternoon. But that’s it.” you say, watching his face light up.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

“Don’t let go, Sunghoon. I SAID DON’T LET GO.” You shout, as he laughs.

“Y/n, just relax. You know this. I’m letting go now.”

“SUNGHOON!” you shout. Your legs bent and you stand in place, too scared to move. You watch as he takes your hand and guides you around the rink. The nostalgia comes rushing back. The wind in your face, the feeling of your feet gliding across the ice like nothing, it had been so long. Before you realize it, you had let go of Sunghoon and gone way ahead of him. Looking back, you find him smiling at you. You remember this feeling, and you loved it.

You’d definitely got your love of skating from your mom. Being the daughter of a professional skater, it had been your dream to be like her. She was and always will be your role model. When you had quit skating you wondered if she’d be disappointed in you for quitting, but thoughts of her always flooded your mind and you could never focus on the task at hand. You knew your mom would never be disappointed in you, but you were disappointed in you.

It had been half an hour of skating and an all too familiar voice calls out to you.

“Y/n!”

“Mom?” you say in response. You look back, no one. Not soon after, your breathing gets heavy, the world starts spinning and the nostalgia of the rink gets washed over by spots of black, your head was pounding. You keep looking. Where was she? Why was this happening? You wanted to hug her. Was she proud of you? Upset that you didn’t skate anymore? Why did she leave you? Before you know it, you could feel Sunghoon holding you on the floor before going unconscious.

Sunday, October 18, 2020

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Sunghoon says, clutching your hand while kneeling next to your bed.

“Sunghoon, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.”

“BUT IT IS! I asked you to skate with me and now you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” you say as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. You look at the clock. 7pm. It was the next day. “Don’t you have practice? Let’s go.”

“What do you mean let’s go?!? You just woke up??” Sunghoon utters in a panic.

“Yeah, which means I’m energized. I need to make sure you don’t stay there for too long and hurt yourself too.” you say, standing up to shoo Sunghoon out so you can change. “Wait on the couch,”

A few moments later you both were out the door and on the bus to the ice rink.

“I’m not going to stay for long then. I don’t want you to be out for too long.” He decides.

“That’s fine.”

The noise Sunghoon’s skates made as they hit the ice and the chilly air gave you comfort as you watched him run through his routine. Running his fingers through his hair, your eyes follow him wherever he went. He knew you were watching, which was why he was putting on his best performance. The both of you had never felt butterflies for each other like the way you did now. Before you knew it, the two of you were falling hard.

“Y/n, let’s go now.” Sunghoon says as his chest rises up and down, panting from his last run.

“Okay, you did good today.” You compliment him as you walk to the bus. His hand accidentally bumps into yours. You desperately wished that he had gone to hold yours, but he was just your best friend. Nothing more. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence. You stared out the window while Sunghoon stared at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turn to look at him only for him to turn away and pretend like he was looking the other way. Having spent almost everyday for the past ten years with Sunghoon, you guys never needed to talk constantly, having each other there was just enough to have a great day.

You get off together, but Sunghoon was acting suspiciously jittery. He walks you home, but you see him turn the opposite direction of your house once you’re inside. Weird.

Alone, Sunghoon gets back on the bus. His home was close enough to walk from your house, though. “What was he doing?”, you thought.

Arriving at his destination, Sunghoon sighs as he puts a hand up to his backpack strap.

“Name?” the receptionist asks.

“Park Sunghoon.”

“Sunghoon! I’m sorry to see you back. You’ve grown so well. The doctor is ready for you in room 306. Good luck!”

In and out of hospitals ever since the seventh grade, twelve year old Sunghoon stands in the dark hospital hallway, watching his parents cry in the moonlit lobby. He didn’t have much time left, he thought.

Trudging through the all too familiar hallways, Sunghoon makes a left turn and opens the fourth door to the right. He knew this place like the back of his hand.

“Hey Sunghoon! Welcome back! Just take a seat over there and I’ll start preparing to run some tests and then we’ll talk about starting your physical therapy.” The doctor says in a way too cheerful voice.

“That sound’s good. Thank you.” Sunghoon replies. Hearing the sound of the door clicking shut, Sunghoon sat deep in thought. He wanted to skate with you again, but he was worried about your health. Just one more time. That was what he wanted. The glimmer in your eyes, you huge yet adorable smile. He wanted to see it again.

Next Saturday, October 24, 2020

The day started out hectic but you finally found your seat in the stands. You waited for them to announce Sunghoon. Alas, he came gliding out and the crowd was already cheering. Before he starts his eyes search for you, smile widening when his eyes finally meet with yours. Although he had other passions, like skating, his favorite one would always be you. The music starts and the audience quiets down. You had probably seen this routine over 100 times, but something about the setting, the mood, made it seem like a whole new dance. Every move he made drew you further in. He pushed the audience to the edge of their seats leaving them in awe. It was all for you. Everything about him at that moment was brilliant. Once he ends, the audience roars and Sunghoon, not surprisingly, ends up winning. Of course he won. He was your Sunghoon.

You make a beeline towards the performers’ hall and jump onto Sunghoon’s back, accidentally hitting his face with the flowers you had purchased a few moments before.

“Y/n, I told you to stop buying me these. They’re a waste of money.” Sunghoon giggles, happy to see you. You’d had always brushed them off as a pretty reward for a pretty performer, but there had always been a separate meaning behind the red tulips you give him. They would always end up in your home, in the glass vase next to the couch. A gift from your father to your mother, every Friday. Red tulips, the symbol of true love.

“Alright, I need to go change, wait here.” he says, leaving you behind.

An hour goes by and you were starting to get a bit worried. You knock on his changing room door. Nothing. Did he leave without you? You knock on the door again, and nothing. Opening the door, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp. Sunghoon had fainted due to exhaustion and the blood from his head injury had stained the floor.

You call the ambulance and thankfully they arrive quickly. Refusing to leave Sunghoon’s side, you watch as the nurses wrap bandages around his head. This had been the first time you’d seen Sunghoon like this. Was it happening often? Did he not get enough sleep last night?

“Sunghoon, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You passed out from exhaustion again and we’ve handled your head injury. You’re free to go anytime.” The doctor says.

“Again?” you ask.

“Yeah, but only a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sunghoon says. “My parents have been overreacting and making me get routine tests, though.”

As a kid, you hated going to the hospital, and Sunghoon knew that. It was bland, it was boring, but most of all it’s the place you lost your mother. You hated the hospital. You’d come almost every month, week even, watching them run tests on your mom, prescribe her what seemed to be like hundreds of different medications, it was terrible. Losing your parent to cancer was not fun. No more skating, no more family days, no more cheering at competitions. Your family dinners turning to just you and your dad, and then just you. Referring to your parents as my “parent,”. Learning how to live life without the person you cherished most. It seemed like your life revolved around that retched place you called the hospital.

The rain poured and thunder boomed through the quiet hospital. He had sent you home before it rained, not wanting you to get wet and sick from the cold. Sunghoon sat still and thought to himself in his bed. “I see, so I’ve passed out again,” he thinks.

Monday, October 26, 2020

The chair screeches across the floor as Sunghoon drags it to your desk.

“Y/nnnnnnn” he whines, seeing you eat your gummy worms.

“No.”

“But I’m hungryyyy” he cries. You roll your eyes, placing one in his hand. You watch as he holds one side close to his mouth as if he was waiting for something.

“Sunghoon, what are you doing?” you ask.

“Bite the other side” he says, causing your face to go red.

“No”

“yes”

“no”

“why not?” he says with his best attempt at puppy eyes and a pout.

“why?” you ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed your tomato red face yet

“cause I want to. we can lady and tramp it.” he says. “you know you want to.”

“I’m not going to lady and tramp a gummy worm with you. eat it or i’m taking it back.” you argue.

“Fine, but I have a proposal.” he announces. “I want to enter the next competition with you. Just one. Give me one more duet before you quit for good.”

“no,” you reply. “I’m never skating again.”

“Why not? You love it”

“Why do you want me to skate so badly?” you ask. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell you the real reason. He couldn’t tell you he was dying, that was a huge no.

“I miss being able to skate with my best friend. I feel so lonely.” he says, puppy eyes resurfacing.

“I’ll think about it then.”

“Good. Meet me at the ice rink on Saturday at 10am” he exclaims before getting up to go back to his desk.

“I haven’t even agreed.”

“Oops I can’t hear you!” he says as you roll your eyes.

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Little you steps off the ice as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. Running out of the rink into the changing room, you latch on to your mother.

“Mommy, I’m not gonna win,” you say. Her hand comes up to run her fingers through your hair. She coos at you until your breathing has relaxed.

“Why don’t you think you’d win, honey? I loved watching you out there. You were so beautiful.” she says.

“I fell on the ice! Winners don’t do that. I wanted to win just like you.” you manage to sniffle out. You feel your mother give you a kiss on the forehead before kneeling and holding both of your hands.

“Ah, you see, my love, they do! Mommy fell all the time! She still falls! I promise you no winner has never fallen. Mommy only wins because she knows what it’s like to fall! Even if you don’t win, mommy is very proud of you, okay?” she says.

You bolt up from your sleep. It was just a dream. Scrunching your face, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out, you force yourself to get ready for the day, not giving any time to be sad and reminisce.

You enter the complex, Sunghoon standing at the entrance of the rink, impatiently waiting for you. He was so excited. This was going to work out for him. You both walk to the bleachers to satrt lacing your skates, Sunghoon practically bouncing off the walls.

“Aw man, I forgot my hair tie” you complain. Sunghoon pauses lacing his boots and holds his arm out to you.

“Here” Sunghoon says as you look at the extra hair tie on his wrist.

“Why do you have these.” you ask.

“You always forget.” he says, unsurprised.

“Awwww you were thinking of me?” you teased.

“Of course, idiot. Did you forget? I’m never not thinking of you” Sunghoon argued, wallking away, leaving you dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato.

Once again you step into the rink. You were stronger this time. Taking a deep breath you start to glide across the ice once again. It was very unsettling, though. Being on the ice, having fainted the last time you were here. Both you and Sunghoon were on edge, but you were determined to help him win this competition.

The day was filled with talking with your instructor, cleaning up your spins and jumps, and getting back to where you were before. You were getting it and you showed no signs of panic. Sunghoon was so proud of you. YOU were proud of you.

Sunghoon was happy, and he was hopeful. On his walk home all his thoughts were filled with you. Loving you ever since the seventh grade, when he found out he had an illness. He had decided never to tell you, fearing his time would come and leave you alone, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to push you away, you were his ride or die. His heart ached, he didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want you to have to live alone.

Opening the door to his home, he walks through the hallway, leaning against the wall limping to his room. Every big event Sunghoon would write you a letter, and so tonight he poured his heart out onto this piece of paper, tears staining his face.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

On Sunday, you show up to his house unexpectedly but not surprisingly. “Sunghoon, get dressed. We’re going to the market.” you say. Without question, he does as you ask and you both head to the market in no time.

Walking down the ice cream aisle, you grab all the flavors you enjoy, filling your whole basket with different ice creams, toppings, fruit, drinks, and even a cake. “You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Sunghoon teases, earning him a slap to the arm.

As soon as you get home, you send Sunghoon alone to his bedroom, telling him you need time to prepare everything. You had pulled all the stops, whipping out the cheap snoopy shaved ice maker, birthday party hats, streamers, balloons, and banners. It was no one’s birthday in particular, but the fake birthday party put you in a festive and refreshing mood. You had set up a giant ice cream sundae bar, and had even made lemonade.

Calling Sunghoon to come out of the bedroom, he was not surprised but very impressed. Wanting to make it even more fun, he suggests to make sundaes for one another, which you happily agree to. The day was so fun, and it was hardly possible, but Sunghoon had fallen in love with you even more.

Sunghoon was so happy that you planned something like this. He was never one to do anything cute for you unless you begged, so this time he wanted to show you how grateful he was to you by giving you one FREE boop on the nose. Scooping some ice cream with his fingertip, he lightly taps your nose, leaving the melted strawberry ice cream to drip off your nose. You turn to look at him in disgust, eventually dipping your finger in the ice cream and starting a war.

Monday, November 2, 2020

From: Sunghoon (sent at 7:30am)

[ GOOD MORNIN PARTY PEOPLE!!! ]

From: you

[ where are you ]

From: Sunghoon

[ Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I’m not coming today. ]

From: you

[ what, why? I don’t wanna eat lunch alone like a loser. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ oh yeah. i’m back at the hospital LMAOOOO ]

From: you

[ WHY ]

From: Sunghoon

[ idk i forgot. i just woke up here and they were like “hihi” and i said “hihi” back ]

From: you

[ you are unbelievable. i’m coming after school. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ NO DON’T ]

From: you

[ why ]

From: Sunghoon

[ i don’t wanna get yelled at again. only come if you bring me more gummy worms ]

From: you

[ fine. since you’re sick ]

You acted like you didn’t care, but you were so worried. What could’ve happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Even when bed ridden, he still managed to get you to fall head over heels.

That afternoon, you arrive at the hospital, finding Sunghoon playing video games while lying in bed. You chuckled. Even with head bandages and an IV drip, he still managed to be his teenage boyish self.

“Y/n! Today was so boring. Can we take a walk in the garden, I’m sick of being here.” he asks, to which you reluctantly agreed.

During your stroll you talked about anything and everything, a common activity you both did.

“How was school today? Did you miss me?” Sunghoon asks cheekily.

“I did actually. I didn’t realize how much time I spend with you until today.” you respond. “But, it was okay. I got your gummy worms and some other snacks too. I know you hate hospital food.”

“Well I missed you too, there was no one but the staff to bother.” He chuckles. “You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.”

“I know, but we have time.”

Before you knew it, the sun was setting and Sunghoon sent you home so you didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. On his walk back to his room, Sunghoon worried. The thing was, you didn’t have time. The fact that you missed him in just a few hours? How would you feel about forever? He never wanted you to have bad days, let alone be the one to cause them.

Walking through the hallways he trips and falls. Landing on his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t his legs move? He punched his leg. Nothing. Again. It was no use. He had lost feeling in his legs. Tears start pouring out of his eyes. Move, it’s just your leg. Get up. Move. Water droplets fall from his face as he bangs his fist on the floor. Why can’t he move. Eventually he gives up, dragging himself back to his room with his arms. They hurt. His heart hurt. Everything hurt. Was this it?

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

After last night’s events, Sunghoon felt out of it. He wouldn’t be able to go back to school for a while, the nurses claiming that if it happens again the situation can be way worse. He couldn’t skate anymore. He couldn’t see YOU skate anymore. This was it. His illness was getting to him.

With a knock on the door, Sunghoon falls right out of his daze and watches as you come in with another bag of goodies.

“I brought you some stuff from the convenience store.” You say, taking out a bottle of green tea and handing it to him. He reaches out to grab it but as soon as you let go the bottle slips out of his hands.

Ah, so it’s spreading to my arms too, he thinks as he realizes he was too weak to grip the bottle. The doctors told his parents last night that surgery was an option, but it would only give him a little more time, but he wanted to take it. He wanted to be able to skate a little longer. He wanted to make it to the competition.

“I’m in the mood to watch all the Studio Ghibli movies in one sitting.” Sunghoon says as he leans his head back.

“Scoot over,” you reply, getting up to sit in his bed with him. “Good thing I brought my laptop.”

“Are you sure? That’s gonna be like all night.” He asks.

“Of course, I’m always in the mood for you,” you say as Sunghoon wraps an arm around you, prepared for the whole night of cuddling and movie watching.

Half way through the marathon you feel Sunghoon nuzzle his face into your neck. His soft snoring tickled you. You bring your hand up to stroke his hair. Park Sunghoon, I am so in love with you, you think. Your smile. Your eyes. Your lips. Your hair. Your voice. You teasing. The way you say my name. The way you stare at me. The way you talk. The way you smile at me. The way my day isn’t complete without you. I love you.

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The next day was supposed to be better. Sunghoon was going to see you and you were gonna get him more gummy worms. Sitting up with him on his bed, you were cuddling, and he seemed to be getting paler and paler by the minute. He seemed really tired, like he was sick to his stomach.

You got up to go get him a drink from the vending machine, and as you came back nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of your best friend’s room. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of it’s chest and you run to his room. Sunghoon was clutching onto the sides of the bed, doctors scrambling to get the defibrillator going. His heart had stopped.

You’d later learn that he had gone into cardiac arrest, and you watched as the nurses wheeled his bed to the ICU. But the surgery didn’t work, and he didn’t survive. You felt numb. Stretching out a trembling arm, you took hold of Sunghoon’s hand. You shut your eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. Your hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Sunghoon to wake up. Your face buried into the crook of his neck. You nudged the bridge of your nose against the cool skin. Your lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Sunghoon’s, quavering without pause. Devastation weighed down on you. It was a surreal feeling, one that you could never in one million years describe. It squeezed you, threatening to crush you from the inside out. The pain seared itself into your soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were. A sob wretched its way out from your throat. You tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep yourself together, but you knew you were too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left you, you felt yourself spiraling. There was no hiding it.

The doctor comes to hand you a letter. Weakly reaching out, you read it right away. You were desperate. You needed to hear something from Sunghoon, anything.

Dear Y/n,

HI BESTIE, I know I write you one of these every big event, but I’m afraid this might be my last. I’m sorry if you’re getting the before the competition. I desperately wanted to skate with you, but I guess if you’re reading this then my time has come. I hope you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to miss me too much. Please keep skating. I love watching you skate, more than anything. You look so happy, so carefree. I want you to live like that always. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I don’t want you to associate something you love so much with sadness. I’m with your mom now, and we’re rooting for you. Always.

I know it was pretty obvious, but I love you. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts when I’m not with you. I’m in love with you. And I love that I’m in love with you. I love the feelings. The happiness when I think of you, the butterflies when you text me, the excitement I get when I know I’ll get to see you. It’s amazing. And you’re amazing, and I love you. And I’m sorry I had to keep so many secrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the competition. I’m sorry for not telling you about my illness. I didn’t want you to carry this burden with me. You’re the light of my life, Y/n. I love you.

Love,

your bestie, sunghoon.

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: November [part two]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Note: Life is very hectic at the moment so this was edited quite quickly. I think I caught all the mistakes, but I’m sorry if there’s any accidentally left in.

______

The photo shoot the next day went amazingly well. After being out of work for almost ten months, it took me a little while to get back into the swing of it, but I hit my stride quickly once I'd settled in. It helped that I was working with people who made my job almost effortless. Sebastian and Anthony had such good chemistry and were so good at what they do that we got through the day with no hiccups and I had more than enough photos to give Marvel what they'd asked for ten times over.

When I got back to the hotel room, I was in a great mood and it was made even better by the surprise for Chris that I had with me.

"Chris?" I called out as I walked into our large suite. "I'm back!"

He lifted an arm to wave from where he was sitting on the couch, his attention still fixed on the football game that was on the TV.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "How are Mackie and Seb?"

I smiled, knowing he was about to be very excited as I answered him.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?"

That question got his attention and his head shot around to see what I was talking about. As his eyes landed on the two men standing behind me, a grin burst onto his face.

"No way!" He laughed as he leapt up to join us. "Hey, guys!"

All of us - Chris included - had been tested several times over the last few days to make sure that we were all virus free. There was obviously a small chance that one of us could have picked it up some time after one of the many negative results, but I was fairly confident that was pretty unlikely as we'd all been as careful as possible so I'd invited them over for a few drinks. Our hotel room was big enough for us to all keep our distance anyway and I knew that Chris would appreciate the chance to catch up with his friends.

They both greeted Chris before Anthony looked around the room.

"This place is nice!" He observed. "Marvel must love you, you could fit my room in here at least three times!"

"It's not Marvel who loves me," I smirked. "It's Chris - he upgraded our room."

There was a goofy grin on Chris' face as our two guests 'aww'd' in tandem.

"That was too cheesy," Anthony teased. "But man, don't you love me too? Where's my upgrade?"

"I'll get you next time," Chris laughed. "But to be honest, I thought you'd be staying with Sebastian now that you two are a power couple."

Sebastian snorted out a laugh, but Anthony nodded his head.

"I know, man! That's what I said, but Sebastian still won't tell me where he lives!"

"Because you're so obsessed with my couch that I'm worried you'll steal it!"

"Shouldn't buy yourself a five thousand dollar couch if you don't want people to talk about it," Anthony joked, making Sebastian roll his eyes.

"It didn't cost anywhere near that much money. You've never even seen it, I don't know where you got all these ideas from."

"When are you two getting married?" I interrupted with a smirk on my face as they both turned to look at me, their confusion clear. "Sorry, you've just been bickering like an old married couple all day. I was wondering when you were going to make it official."

"That's what we should be asking you two!" Anthony turned it around. "When did this happen anyway?"

"April," Chris answered, sliding his arm around my waist to pull me close. "After a month trapped in a house with me with no other options, she was finally desperate enough to give me a chance."

"That is not what happened," I laughed. "It was more just the fact that being trapped in a house together made us finally have some tough conversations that we'd never had the guts to have before."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Anthony grinned. "And some people owe me some money because I knew you'd get together eventually."

"Wait, you were betting on us?" Chris asked. "With who?"

"Not me," Sebastian was quick to interject, but Anthony just shrugged.

"There was a bunch of us in on it," he admitted. "Downey, Pratt, Renner, Hemsworth, Paul Rudd, Lizzie Olsen, and I think even the Russos. Someone was keeping track of it, I'll have to make some phone calls."

"I don't even want to hear about this," I laughed, shaking my head. I wasn't at all surprised, they were a tight crew and there was plenty of downtime on set for them to get up to all kinds of antics, but I had no desire to hear who was betting on our situation. "So, shall we have some drinks? What does everyone want? I figured we could just order from room service."

After a brief discussion on the matter, we ordered several beers for the men and a bottle of wine for me. It arrived with impressive speed - no doubt a perk of being with a group of celebrities in a penthouse suite - and we all settled around the living room, trying our best to keep some distance between us.

We chatted and caught up, discussing what we'd done to keep ourselves busy through lockdown and when things might start to be more normal - the usual pandemic conversations. The boys were just delving into some sports discussions that were totally lost on me when I received a message from Lisa saying that Grayson was having a bit of a moment and asked if I was able to call. It broke my heart to think of him missing us so I excused myself and did as she asked.

He was crying when she passed him the phone and I felt awful, immediately filled with guilt that we’d selfishly decided to stay in New York for the whole weekend. We would have arrived home quite late if we left right after the shoot, but as I couldn't remember the last time that he’d stayed overnight with someone other than Chris or I, it suddenly seemed cruel to have left him for so long.

He was in bed already, but unable to fall asleep so I chatted with him for a bit before singing him the lullaby that I'd been singing to him since he was born. It worked like a charm and once he was out, Lisa took the phone back.

"Is he doing okay?" I asked, fighting back tears of my own. "Has he been like this all day?"

"No, no, of course not!" She assured me. "He's been totally fine, we've had a great time. He just got a bit weepy as I was tucking him in."

"I'm glad he's been having fun," I sniffled. "I hate to think of him being upset."

"He's just fine, sweetheart," she insisted. "This will be good for all of you. It's good for him to get used to being away from you two and it must be nice for you two to have a break."

"It is," I admitted. "It just feels selfish when he's upset like that."

"Well, sometimes even us moms need to be a little selfish," Lisa laughed. "And selfishly on my part, it's been wonderful having him here."

I smiled, knowing she had been quite excited about their little sleepover.

"We really appreciate you taking him."

"It's absolutely my pleasure. Now, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing and I will see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Lisa. I'll message you when we're heading out so you know when to expect us."

She assured me that they'd be home whenever we arrived and we said our goodbyes before I headed back out to the living room.

"Everything okay?" Chris asked as soon as I sat down.

"Yeah, for the most part," I sighed. "Grayson just got a bit upset at bedtime, I guess. He was crying and wanted to talk to me, but he's fine now."

Sensing I was feeling a bit emotional about it, Chris reached out and squeezed my hand as Anthony spoke.

"I was hoping you'd bring the little man with you. How's he doing?"

I smiled as a grin burst onto Chris' face. He went into a long, somewhat boastful explanation of just how good Grayson was doing, informing them of his extensive dinosaur knowledge and his impressive skills on his bike. It was heartwarming to hear the pride in his voice as he spoke and it was even nicer to see Sebastian and Anthony's genuine interest in hearing about him.

"They grow so damn fast, don't they?" Anthony commented. "One day they can hardly move and then suddenly they're practically BMX champions."

"Oh, no," I shook my head. "It took a good five months for me to allow him to take his training wheels off. He won't be BMX-ing any time soon."

"Well, I hear things are always scarier with the first one," Sebastian pointed out. "Maybe your next one can be the extreme sports star."

"Yeah, that's a good point," Anthony agreed. "When are you having another?"

I tossed back my last sip of wine before letting out a laugh at that question and side-eyeing Chris as I poured myself another glass.

"Did Chris pay you to ask me that?"

"No!" Anthony laughed. "But it's been, what? Four years? Seems like it's about time for another."

Chris snickered as he took a swig from the bottle of beer he was drinking, clearly feeling validated by Anthony's comments, but I just shook my head.

"We've been together for less than a year," I reminded them. "That's hardly long enough to start thinking about another baby."

"Sure, it is," Anthony shrugged. "Maybe not if the relationship is brand new, but you already have one kid, what's the harm in throwing another in the mix?"

"And we already know that we can work together as parents through complicated situations."

I shot Chris a look after his interjection because I really didn't think his friends needed to be involved in a discussion like this, but Sebastian chimed in as the voice of reason.

"It's more complicated than that though, isn't it?" He asked. "Babies are stressful and can ruin a relationship if you're not ready for it."

"Exactly! Thank you, Seb."

"What does he know?" Anthony teased. "He's never had a baby."

I rolled my eyes as I sipped my drink, trying to ignore Chris' smug face.

"If you're such a big fan of the idea, Anthony, why don't you have more kids?"

"More? I already have four!" He laughed. "That's more than enough. Hell, after being in lockdown with them, you could have one of mine if you're not ready to have another of your own."

"I think we're good with one right now," I insisted with a smile. "At least until we see where this whole pandemic thing ends."

"Alright, alright, that's fair," Anthony relented. "But just remember when the time comes, Anthony is a solid name. Or even Antonia for a girl."

"Actually," I smirked. "I do quite like the name Sebastian."

Sebastian barked out a laugh over Anthony's protests as Chris came up with a compromise.

"Sebastian Anthony Evans?" He suggested.

"Can you imagine?" I giggled. "Your fans would lose their minds. You'd have to raise him together, you could make a reality show out of it."

"That's a money making opportunity right there," Anthony grinned. "You just let me know when you need me to show up."

"As entertaining as that sounds, it won't be any time soon," I insisted before changing the subject. "What about you, Sebastian? How's your love life going? Any babies on the horizon?"

His cheeks instantly tinged pink at the attention being flipped onto him as he answered the question and Anthony’s teasing shifted to him.

About an hour later, after our guests left, I found myself stretched out on the couch with my head in Chris' lap as he ran his fingers through my hair. It felt so good that I was resisting the urge to purr like a happy cat when Chris distracted me with a question.

"How was the shoot?" He asked. "I just realized that I never got an answer."

"It was great," I smiled up at him. "It felt weird at first after being away for so long, but Sebastian and Anthony are such goofs. It helped me relax and get back into it."

I felt his body shake as he chuckled, no doubt knowing his friends well enough to imagine the antics they got up to.

"I'm glad it went well. Maybe now there's more projects starting up, you'll start getting more job offers again and you won't have to go so long without doing it."

"Oh, I've had plenty of job offers," I admitted. "But most of them I'd have to travel for or they just seem too risky."

Chris was clearly surprised by that confession as I hadn't mentioned any of the proposals I'd received to him, but it didn't seem important when I'd never even considered taking any of the jobs.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" He asked. "We could have worked something out and made it happen."

"Because I didn't want to accept any of the offers," I assured him. "I don't feel super comfortable flying around the country right now and most of them had pretty half-assed safety protocols in place. This was the first one that was close by and had a clear and thorough safety plan. Marvel wanted me for Wandavision too, but I would’ve had to go to L.A. and I didn't feel great about that."

Chris frowned, his fingers pausing momentarily in my hair as he mulled over my answer.

"I get it, that's solid reasoning," he nodded. "But I'm sorry you've had to make decisions like that. I know you love what you do."

"So do you," I shrugged. "So do a lot of people who are currently out of work. I've got it pretty good, I try to focus on that."

"Sure, but that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to miss things too," Chris insisted before letting out a sigh. "Do you ever worry that things won't ever get back to normal?"

As I looked up at him and saw the melancholy look on his face, I felt a wave of vulnerability wash over me.

"Not really," I admitted. "I worry more about what will happen when they do..."

"Oh?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Well, don't get me wrong, I don't want anyone to get sick anymore and I don't want any more people to die. I want to see my family again and meet my nephew and I want Grayson to be able to go to school and make friends," I prefaced my statement. "But for us, it's been really nice. We've been able to figure each other out and build our relationship without anything else interfering and I just worry that when things go back to normal, it won't work."

The hurt that flashed across Chris' face made my chest tighten. I hadn't meant to upset him, but it was foolish of me to think that my doubts wouldn't be hard to hear.

"You don't think we'll stay together when the lockdowns are all done?"

"No, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, that's what you said..."

"I said it was something I worry about," I clarified. "And I do. It'll be a lot harder when we're both working again."

"It's one thing to think it'll be harder," Chris scowled. "It's another to think we can't make it work. Are you planning on running at the first sign of trouble?"

Feeling the panic bubbling inside me, I pulled my head out of Chris' lap and sat up so I was facing him. I did want to run away in that moment - his harsh tone hurting my feelings and making my defences bubble to the surface - but I reminded myself of how avoiding our problems had worked for us in the past and tried to stay calm and explain myself.

"I'm not going to run away, Chris," I assured him. "And I don't really appreciate the way you're speaking to me right now. You asked a question and I explained my feelings, but instead of wanting to talk through that, you're immediately getting upset. I'm allowed to have concerns and all you're doing right now is making them worse."

Despite my frustrations, I kept my voice calm as I spoke and it seemed to have the desired effect as the tension in Chris' body eased slightly.

"Sorry, you're right," he sighed. "I just thought we've been doing so well, I'm surprised that you still have doubts."

"We're just living in such a bubble right now," I pointed out. "When everything goes back to normal and we're both back at work more, we'll be so busy. Balancing that with making sure Grayson gets enough of our attention, it might not leave much time for us and that would strain any relationship."

"It'll be more of a challenge than it is now," Chris agreed, his words spoken cautiously as if they were carefully chosen. "But most parents struggle with balancing their relationship with time spent with their kids. We'll just have to make the effort."

"But we have more to cope with than most parents."

He looked skeptical of that claim.

"How so?"

"Well, you'll be away a lot once you start filming things again," I reminded him, knowing that his next project had plans to film in L.A. and Europe. "And you'll be surrounded by beautiful, smart, talented women who I pale in comparison to."

"That’s not true, but regardless, I won't even look at them twice." His voice was firm and for a moment I worried that he was annoyed again, but as he took my hand in his and lifted his eyes to meet mine, he just seemed sincere. "I love you, Whitney. I only want to be with you."

"I know, I do, I know that. I love you too and I trust you, but I guess it just still feels like you being in love with me is too good to be true."

"I don't think that you do know," Chris insisted. "I'm completely committed to you. I know it's only been a few months, but it's been some of the best months of my life. What we've been doing - you, me and Grayson just hangin’ out and being a family - it's what I've been dreaming of since he was born, it's what I've always wanted. I can't imagine a future without you in it, I don't even want to think about it. I love you and I love the life we're building together."

I felt my eyes grow glassy as he spoke, my heart melting at his words.

"Wow," I murmured quietly. It was a lame response to such heartfelt words, but I was trying to process everything he’d said and, after a moment of staring into his beautiful eyes, I choked out a laugh. "That almost sounded like a proposal."

Chris chuckled and nodded his head.

"I know. Even I wondered where I was going with that for a minute there," he admitted. "It wasn't, but it's all true. I'm in this for as long as you'll have me."

He lifted my hand up to place a kiss on my knuckles and I suddenly felt ridiculous for having any doubts.

"I feel the same," I assured him. "I really do. I don't want you to think that I'm not as invested in this as you are. I just like how things are now and thinking about it changing scares me."

"It'll be different, but we can make it work."

I smiled and crawled into his laps, letting my knees rest on either side of his thighs.

"I guess I've just been spoiled these last few months," I mused, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. "I don't want to share you with the world, I want you all to myself."

Chris chuckled as our foreheads rested against each other.

"You really are clingy," he teased. "I always thought I'd be the needy one in this relationship."

"Shut up," I giggled, pressing our lips briefly together again. "And for the record, all those sweet, wonderful things you just said aren't getting you any closer to convincing me we should have another baby yet."

Chris' head fell backwards as a laugh burst from his chest.

"Alright, alright, well, it was worth a shot," he smirked. "But seriously, that's how confident I am in us. It wouldn’t even scare me if we did because I know we can handle it."

I smiled even though I probably didn't share quite that much confidence in our future. I wouldn't bet against us, but I wasn't ready to bring a baby into a situation that might not be such smooth sailing in a few months.

"We have to think about Grayson too though," I pointed out. "He's had a lot to deal with the last few months, a lot of big changes. Throwing a sibling at him on top of everything else might be a little bit cruel."

"That's true," Chris relented, looking a bit defeated for a moment until a smile slid onto his face. "He'll be such a good big brother though. He'll be so excited to teach him everything he knows."

"Him?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. "We're going to have another boy, are we?"

"Him or her," Chris shrugged. "I'd be happy either way."

I couldn't help, but smile at his enthusiasm. It was a nice thought even if it was clearly a more distant fantasy for me than it was for Chris.

"One day," I assured him. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too."

With a strength that never ceased to amaze me, he then stood from the couch, lifting me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giggling at the impressive feat as he carried me to our bedroom where we spent the rest of the night showing some physical appreciation and love for each other.

December

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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dimitrescus-bitch · 4 years

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A Token of My Love (Meredith Grey x Reader)

“Pathetic,” Mark said as he looked in the direction you’d been glancing at like clockwork. “You know she’s off limits right? No more sleeping with women who have slept with Derek Shepherd.”

“That’s a rule for you, not a rule for me. I haven’t done it yet,” you argued. Mark gave you a look and you handed your charts back to a nurse before you walked over to Meredith. “Good morning Dr. Grey, you are looking lovely this morning.”

“I’m gonna tell you what I told you yesterday, the day before that, and every other day you come up to me with a line. I’m not interested in whatever it is that you’re offering me,” Meredith said and you pouted. “And that may work on the nurses that keep sleeping with you, but I’m strong-willed.”

“Meredith, how can I show you that I’m not really like that. I was just having a rough go of things for awhile?” you asked and Meredith sighed.

“Why can’t you just accept that I am not interested in you?” Meredith asked you. You sighed and walked away. Mark gave you an apologetic look as you walked away and you stopped to talk to him. Meredith’s attention was already back to whatever Kepner was talking to her about.

“I’m sorry, but maybe it’s for the best. She’s like a shark Y/n,” Mark told you. You shrugged it off and walked away. Your favorite nurse had gotten fired when they made cuts, so you just decided to go hide out in Kepner’s office until you were paged for something.

“Get outta here Alex,” you said quietly as you watched him walk into the office. You were laying on the floor with a bag of chips and he reached down to grab a couple from you. You grabbed his wrist and twisted it before pushing him away. “I said get out. You’re not welcome here.”

“I’m not welcome here?” Karev asked and you nodded. “When did you start making decisions?”

“Since my brother is your attending’s best friend, that’s when.” Alex stood up and walked out, knowing that you could talk to Mark, who would talk to Arizona, who would make Alex’s life hell. “Good.”

You spent most of your day in Kepner’s office, only to leave whenever Meredith came in. Normally you’d stay in, maybe even give her a line or two, but you didn’t. Instead you went down to the cafeteria to eat lunch with Mark, Callie, and Arizona.

“I heard you almost snapped Karev’s wrist,” Mark said and you shrugged. “Maybe let’s not break people’s bones.”

“That’s my job though,” Callie said and you took a sip of your chocolate milk. “And it’s hers too.”

“You picked a specialty?” Mark asked and you nodded. “And you picked ortho?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to make a big deal,” you said quietly. Mark stood up and very excitedly exclaimed how excited he was, thus making a big deal about it.

“My sister picked ortho! Y/n Sloan is going to be an ortho surgeon. She’s gonna be breaking bones with my baby mama!” Callie covered her face in embarrassment and you just yanked him back into his seat. “I’m taking you out to celebrate tonight. I’m thinking Joe’s, but we can go somewhere else if you want.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can I get you a drink Dr. Grey?” you asked as you sat next to Meredith. “It’s not a line, Mark’s paying tonight.”

“Then wouldn’t that mean Mark’s buying me a drink?” Meredith asked and you slid a 50 towards the bartender.

“No, it’s on me. Have a good night Dr. Grey.” You grabbed your coat and walked away. Mark took you out to dinner after hitting the bar for awhile and then the two of you went to spend your night with Sofia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meredith sighed as she looked at the chocolate bar sitting in her locker. She knew it was from you. Since that night in the bar, you’d been giving her things and being weirdly formal. Whenever she would question you about it or try to give back your gifts, you’d just walk away or hand them right back to her. It was kind of tiring, but you liked the look on her face when you got something right.

“Ooo, I want some,” Yang said as she sat down next to Meredith. Meredith pulled it away from the cardio surgeon, who just huffed. “Why aren’t you sharing?”

“Because neither of us deserve this chocolate,” Meredith sighed. “It’s from Y/n. I think when I rejected her, I really hurt her feelings.”

“You were sort of harsh, but she has no trouble getting women,” Yang pointed out.

“But when’s the last time you’ve heard the nurses talk about how good Baby Sloan is in bed?” Meredith asked and Yang shrugged. “Because apparently she hasn’t been sleeping around the hospital for months now. Cristina, she’s only been doing this gift thing for a few weeks. I only said no because I thought she just wanted to screw around a bit.”

“Maybe you should go talk to her,” Yang suggested and Meredith went to go find you. It wasn’t that hard, you only hung out with your brother or in Kepner’s office. Despite your differences, you and April got along really well.

“Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment please?” Meredith asked and April left the two of you alone in her office. “Do you like me?”

“You don’t like me, so it doesn’t matter,” you pointed out.

“I do like you. I thought you just wanted to hook up. That’s what I didn’t like,” Meredith told you. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to take you out sometime.”

“You can pick me up at 7 from Mark’s apartment. If he’s not home yet, then we might be babysitting a bit,” you said and Meredith nodded. “Great, see you at 7.”

“See you then,” Meredith confirmed. She leaned in and kissed your cheek before going to do her surgery.

#Meredith Grey #meredith grey imagine #meredith grey imagines #meredith grey x reader #Grey's Anatomy #grey's anatomy imagines #grey's anatomy imagine #grey's anatomy x reader

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hepaliendestielrecs · 3 years

Text

Hidden Gems Destiel Fic Rec

Amazing fics with <10k hits

Woven by MajorEnglishEsquire (@chuckwinchester) [T, <1k]

Bunker Fic, Fluff

"It's cooling down in the bunker and Cas can't find the blankets."

the whole package by @outpastthemoat [G, <1k]

Fluff, Dancing

Castiel is watching Dean’s face when the couples on the dance floor start slow dancing and Dean says suddenly, "I think it’s nice."

Whose Belt Is It Anyway? by Hatteress (@goddammitstacey) [T, 1k]

Season 8, Oblivious, UST

Prompted by the promo to 6.07 - Family Matters. There's a belt. It's not around someone's waist. So whose is it?

The Name Game by @xylodemon [G, 1.1k]

Future Fic, Fluff, Human Cas

"They haven't called my number," Cas complains, glancing around the office.

more under the cut

To Have and To Hold by midnightcastiel (@miraclecastiel) [NR (I’d say Gen), 1.2k]

Fluff, First Kiss, Canon Verse

The wind steals their breath as they approach the graveyard. Dean walks between Cas and Sam, and he is sure that his nose and hands are frost bitten. Dean barely has time to grumble the complaint out loud before he feels Cas’s hand in his, warm and gentle.

Carpooling by @alchemyalice [G, 1.4k]

Crack, Humor, Season 5

This is the worst car ride in the history of ever.

Every Word Is True by Sass_Master (@sass-master-stina) [M, 1.7k]

Rimming, Established Relationship, PWP

“I want to eat you out,” Cas says, low and sincere, a spark of mirth coloring his tone.

Dean sucks in a breath, holds it and lets it out slowly. “Okay.”

stoic minds and bleeding hearts by microcomets (@mishcollin) [G,1.7k]

Fluff, Angst, Fallen Cas

Castiel discovers human memory is limited and sets out to remedy that situation; Dean makes some...interesting discoveries.

Beer Good by @lisztful [T, 1.8k]

Fluff

Dean decides to find out what happens when you get an angel drunk.

After All That’s Been Said and Done by imogenbynight (@thevioletcaptain) [T, 1.9k]

Season 9

He's been in love for three years. Has known it for at least two. He wonders what it would be like to just blurt it out like these kids do. He might have faced the devil without breaking a sweat, but the thought of putting himself on the line like that makes his stomach clench and his palms clammy.

untouched & intact by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 1.9k]

Fallen Cas, Season 8 coda

After Castiel falls from heaven, he figures he has two options. He can find Dean Winchester, or he can get spectacularly drunk.

He opts for the latter.

Full Circle by Winter_of_our_Discontent (@bamfinacuddlyjumper) [M, 2k]

First Kiss, UST, Fluff, First Time

“C’mon," Dean said, "You gotta try pie, Cas, it’s like… the whole point of being human.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Right, Dean. Forget the collected works of Shakespeare. The Taj Mahal. Baked goods are way more important.”

Dean didn’t look up from where he was delicately shaving curls of vanilla ice cream off the frozen block and onto the plates with a fragile plastic spoon. “Dude, talk to me when Hamlet comes in a delicious flaky buttery crust.”

Break the Walls Between Us by @remmyme [E, 2k]

PWP, First Time

Dean rapidly blinks away his confusion. “You want me to…what?”

The Coat by petramacneary [G, 2.4k]

Fluff, Team Free Will, Season 5, Canon Divergent

Cas' coat gets ruined during a hunt, and Dean goes to buy him a new one. Featuring Team Free Will trying to be as normal as possible.

to boldly (kinda sorta) go by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 2.7k]

Fluff, Fallen Cas, Team Free Will, Charlie Bradbury, Post-season 8

That one where Team Free Will and Charlie cosplay as Star Trek characters. Post-season 8.

because i could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 3.2k]

Fallen Cas, Fluff, Angst

Castiel dies and is given a choice.

Stars Fall On by @mithrilwren [T, 3.5k]

Domestic, Sam & Cas Friendship

Sam doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know why Cas is here, lying on the dirty floor surrounded by tools and muttering around faulty wiring.

“Need a hand?”

Like Fields of Grain by feyjewels [T, 5.6k]

Fluff, Angst, Domestic, Canon Divergent, Post-Canon, Fix-it

Warning: Major Character Death

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

the run and go by microcomets (@mishcollin) [T, 2.7k]

Fluff, Fallen Cas, Domestic

Cas makes a list. Dean is Yoda, and Sam is unimpressed.

Home by imogenbynight (@thevioletcaptain) [T, 6.9k]

Angst, Fluff, Season 8

It's late October, Hell is still open for business, and they haven't heard a thing from Kevin since April.

Castiel, either--not that Dean hasn't been trying to do something about that.

He hasn't prayed this much since Purgatory.

bloodflood by orphan_account [M, 7k]

Hurt/Comfort, Case fic

Sam and Dean are hunting a case in the cold Minnesota wilderness when an unexpected friend turns up.

Good Things Do Happen by @trinityofone [T, 11k]

Canon Divergent, Post-Season 5, Everyone Lives AU, Christmas, Sam POV

Yes this is a Christmas fic and I was planning on saving them all for a Christmas rec list later in the year, but I was gobsmacked when I saw this only had 7500 hits because in my mind it’s a CLASSIC. 100 of those hits are probably me.

A Winchester Family Christmas, 2010. AKA, Best zombie Christmas ever!

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fic rec #deancas #deancas fic rec #hidden gems #reclist

142 notes · View notes

princecharmingmendes · 3 years

Text

A Quarter After One | Raul Mendes

"Look, I know you're a hard ass but can you play with my hair? It would really help"

Hello hello! This was a request or an idea that actually came from the prompt above sent by the lovely @bvttercupbby (thank you so much!) and I was immediately in love with it. This is a blurb/oneshot that was planned to fit in the Hey Angel universe where they're in a stablished relationship, but could be read as an individual piece, but if you want to check that universe first, they're on my masterlist and the first part is in here (aster is also a blurb from that universe!). If any of you have any prompts or requests you'd like to see, feel free to send them to me, even anonymously. Anyway, I'll stop ranting now, happy reading and don't forget to tell me what where your thoughts on this piece!

*Word Count: 2.3K+

*Warnings: a few curse words, and I guess that's it;

*Posted: April 9th, 2021.

-*-

It was a hard day and Y/N was tired, but she simply couldn’t sleep.

Her shift was long and exhausting, too much happened in a short span of time. Too many bad news and annoyingly arrogant people to deal with, and she even had and early shift the next morning. So when she got home she was finally able to breath. Technically she went to her boyfriend’s apartment since Raul knew she had a tough day, and they were basically always together, switching between their places at least twice a week. He texted her as soon as she got in with the spare key he gave her a few months ago, letting Y/N know he was going to take an extra hour cause he got caught up, that she didn’t have to wait for him to do anything.

So Y/N decided to head to his room and take a long warm shower to relax her nerves a bit. After washing her hair, taking her time to get all soft and exfoliated, and even going as far as applying a hair mask to keep it shiny. Then she changed into a pair of sweats and soft big T-shirt she loved borrowing (or ‘stealing’ as Raul liked saying) and padded downstairs, slumping on the couch with her phone in hands. But before she could curl up in the soft baby pink blanket Raul kept their for her, she heard the front door opening, and as she turned around to check, her boyfriend was walking in with a few bags on his hands.

“Hi, Bambi” he smiled at her, placing the bags on the counter, alongside his stuff.

Y/N got up from the couch and trailed behind him, circling her arms around his middle, nuzzling her face on his back “Hi”

“Needy?” he asked with a chuckle.

Y/N nodded her head “need you”

“Oh darling” Raul cooed at her, spinning in her arms to face her and gently cradling her jaw in his hand, the free one on her lower back keeping her close “I’m here, sweet thing, and I’m sorry it took me longer than what I told you this morning”

Y/N only nodded hugging him tighter and he leaned down to place a kiss to her forehead, before enveloping her in a hug.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I just had to stop by and grab us some stuff, wanna take a look?” he offered gently.

And she nodded softly in response before adding a quiet “please”

Raul smiled before carefully maneuvering them so he could pull the stuff out of the bags“Okay, I got us the Chinese takeout you love so much, stopped by to grab you your favorite cake, a painkiller and as I was checking out, I saw this and I just had to buy it” he said before grabbing a Bambi plushie.

Y/N’s eyes widened and a small smile twitched on her lips at the sight of the stuffed animal, quickly followed by a shake of her head and a breathy giggle. And he was glad he got this reaction out of her, his heart a bit warmer when she reached out to gently cradle the toy in her arms before pulling Raul for a tighter hug.

“You’re so annoying” she mumbled against his chest as he laughed, pressing a few kisses to her hair “but I love you for it”

“I love you too, Bambi” he pressed a final kiss before pulling away a bit, despite her whine, to look at her a bit better “you look comfy, that T-shirt seems to be really soft, is it new? Could swear I had one like that”

“Oh fuck off” she said playfully rolling her eyes and he chuckled at her.

“That’s my girl” he mumbled as he watched her getting flustered at his compliment “now lemme shower real quick, you can go ahead a pick the movie and as soon as I’m back I’ll bring the food so we can eat it on the couch and maybe cuddle a bit before bed, yeah? How does that sound? Good?”

“Yes, thank you”

“Of course, Bambi” he said pressing a quick peck to her lips “just don’t pick something you want us to pay attention to, I guess we both need the rest”

“Okay” was all she replied as he moved to his room.

While she waited for him, Y/N settled back down in her spot on the couch and started scrolling through movie options, and ended up choosing a random action movie they’ve probably watched way too many times before, but she couldn’t simply be bothered. A few minutes since he left, Raul was back, hair still wet from the shower, in a pair of sweats and a random t-shirt. He was quick to grab the stuff he brought them for dinner and to plop down beside her, swinging an arm over her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hairline.

They watched the movie as the dug into the little containers and had desert, before actually dumping their dishes in the sink and coming back for a cuddle. Y/N finally started feeling her muscles relaxing as she laid flat on top of Raul’s body as they finished the movie, his hands lazily running up and down her spine. She wasn’t feeling so nervous anymore, and as much as she would give anything for a long night of sleep, she felt like she wasn’t going to be able to actually get a proper one. On the other hand, her boyfriend was struggling to finish the feature film, his movements kept coming to a stop, only for him to sigh and resuming his previous ministrations.

“Raul?” she called his name softly into the dark room.

He only hummed in response, squeezing her a bit tighter to his body, making her let out a breathy giggle.

“I think it’s time for us to go to bed” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him, only to find him smirking at her and before he could make any dirty joke, she lightly slapped his chest “don’t even start”

Raul chuckled and shook his head “yeah, I’m completely worn out”

“Come on then, champ” she said lifting herself up from him, and consequently the couch as well.

Raul lazily rolled out of his place, grabbing her hand and trailing up with her to his bedroom. They both went on their little night time skin care/ general routine, side by side on his bathroom as they did most nights before collapsing on top of his duvet. He gently coaxed her to get under the covers before turning off the light. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him and he was quick to get it, pulling her to his chest before placing a quick peck on her lips with a chuckle.

“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?”

Y/N sighed before actually answering “seven, I think, why?”

“I have to be up around the same time, so I’ll make us some breakfast” he mumbled, his voice already getting a bit more sleepy and slow.

“Okay, thank you for today, I really appreciate it” she said playing with the soft material of his shirt.

She felt Raul smile against her hair as he nuzzled his face there “of course, Bambi, I love you so much, m’angel”

Y/N smiled at his sweet confession at his hazy state “I love you too”

“I know, Bambi, otherwise you wouldn’t put up with my shit” he murmured and she giggled in response “goodnight, angel”

“Goodnight, Raul”

-*-

Y/N was getting frustrated.

She was tired. Exhausted both physically and mentally, and all she needed was to sleep, but she couldn’t. She fell asleep rather quickly, only to wake up half an hour later and to get stuck in a cycle of napping for a few minutes and being partially awake for the others.

Her muscles were tight, her bones hurting, her head pounding and she didn’t have much to do. Y/N didn’t want to get up and go watch something on the couch, that wasn’t going to help. But she also didn’t felt like laying down for hours on end without being able to properly fall asleep. And waking up her boyfriend wasn’t an option, even though she knew Raul wouldn’t mind, she felt bad doing it to him knowing well he had at least three surgery’s in the following morning. So she didn’t have much to do. Y/N tried moving as little as she could, as to not to disturb the sleeping body next to her, and she managed to detangle herself from Raul’s arms to not wake him up.

But it didn’t go exactly as planned as she heard him sigh heavily before turning on his side to face her. Y/N tried to pretend to be asleep, hoping it was just him dreaming or something like that, but when she felt him gently pushing the hair out of her face and moving it behind her ear, she opened her eyes to look up at him.

“Bambi, what’s keeping you up?” he croaked in a raspy sleepy tone and she just shrugged in response, making him sigh “I’ve been feeling you trash around for at least an hour now, tell me what’s going on so I can try to fix it and finally put you to sleep”

Her voice was small as she finally spoke up, almost afraid she’d piss him off “I don’t know, I just can’t”

“Darling, is past one A.M. and we both work not that early tomorrow, but we still need to be up at seven, so please tell what’s bothering you” he sighed in defeat.

Y/N shook her head “It’s nothing, really, you should go to sleep”

“I really wish I could just pretend to believe in you, turn around and go back to sleep, but we both know that’s not happening, and I’d be a jerk if I did that, so please, I just want to help” he laid his hand on her jaw, his thumb mindlessly caressing the soft skin on her face.

She leaned on his palm, enjoying the warmth of his palm seeping onto her skin “I just think I might still be a bit stressed with what happened today, and that’s making me restless”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Before we laid down? I could’ve made you some tea or something else to try to calm you a bit more, maybe even a massage, you know I’m good at it” he had a frown on his face as he said it, concern lacing his features and his voice.

“I guess I didn’t want to be a bother, specially with something that stupid”

Raul’s honeyed eyes softened at her admission “it’s not stupid if it’s keeping you up at night, Bambi, you should’ve known that, and I would never judge you for it”

“I know, and saying it aloud makes me even more dumb for not sharing it earlier and maybe even saving us from this, I’m sorry I kept you up”

“Oh angel, come here” he said before pulling her into his chest “you don’t have to apologize, that’s why I’m here, right? To take care of you, and it’s okay”

Y/N only nodded her head against his chest as she snuggled closer to him, mumbling into his t-shirt “okay”

He chuckled quietly before adding “Now what can I do to help?”

“I don’t know”

“Do you want a cup of tea?” he offered and she only tightened her hold on the fabric of his pijamas making him laugh “okay, what about a kissy?” he asked mocking the way she asked him for one a few weeks back on her drowsy sleepy state.

“You’re insufferable” she huffed out as he chuckled.

“That’s not what you said yesterday” he sing sang and she slapped his chest softly playfully.

Y/N shook her head holding back a smile as he laughed before adding "Look, I know you're a hard ass but can you play with my hair? It would really help"

As his laugh died down a bit he tipped her head up with his fingers under her chin, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose “jokes apart, of course I will, angel, anything you want, really”

She sighed contently at him as he pulled her to his chest again, starting to comb his long fingers through her soft locks “thank you” and Raul only placed a single kiss to her forehead in response.

Y/N started feeling her body finally relaxing completely, her heavy limbs finally turning into gelatin, and her body basically turning into a puddle. Her mind was finally shutting off and all she could focus on was her boyfriend. His signature scent as her face was buried in his neck, his warm body under hers and his gentle caresses slowly putting her in a sleepy state. And she was grateful for having such an amazing partner to do everything he did for her when she felt a bit off, never pushing her to tell him whenever she was uncomfortable and being patient despite being tired as she accidentally woke him up. And even though this weren’t too much to ask, Y/N knew how rare was to find a man like that, and little things like this made her remember how lucky she truly was.

“Now what about the kissy?” he asked after a few moments of silence and she giggled quietly before tilting her head up and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips “better, thought you were going to put me in emotional distress”

“Over a kiss?”

“Over your kiss, they’re special, Bambi” he said and she rolled her eyes at him, but both ended up laughing.

“Goodnight, Raul”

“Goodnight, angel” and this time, she was actually able to succumb to her tired body’s wishes and fall fast asleep.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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leahseclipse · 4 years

Text

Daily surprises

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Everyday, Spencer finds a new book in his bag, as he begins to look forward to it when the event has been occurring for a while.

Requested by @writing-in-april

A/N: I really liked writing this request!!! it really was cute asF!! Thanks for proposing that April, the fic u wrote for me last time was amazing (as ALWAYS), so I hope that you’ll like this one.

And uhh sorry about the books parts, I don’t know any of the books- I literally googled the summaries-

Word count: 3.8k

Books have always been a passion of mine; I have always been fascinated by how words can make the reader feel, how each reader can have a different opinion about them, different feelings, every reader is different when it comes to the fact of the opinion they have about the work.

They had always been a sort of shelter to me. I usually had the habit (and still have it) to comfort myself in them, they’d be able to express feelings like no one could, allow me to learn about various things, subject, build an opinion on a subject I had never thought of having an opinion, debate or even mention before.

I had been collecting more and more of them through the years, to the point of having an apartment that could be mistaken as a sort of tiny library.

My books are literally everywhere, in my shelves, on my couch, on the low table, under and on chairs, even at my desk, and in my bag.

I always carry around one or two in my bag (of course, if they both don’t contain a lot of pages to the point of weighing a ton when combined together), in case I happen to have free time (which happened to become rare when I had begun working at the FBI), and have nothing else to do but read.

It also happened to be a passion I've been sharing with another person, more known as y/n.

She had first mentioned that she didn't happen to read a lot, but eventually appreciated reading, which I was more than happy to hear, considering all the books I knew and how much it meant to me.

Clearly, she didn't expect me to know a whole library in my brain when she happened to ask if I could recommend a few; but she always liked to hear me rambling about them.

She had eventually begun taking a liking to reading again; often asking me about books I've read, talking about her opinion on the book she had read, which would often be followed by an endless rambling from me, being much longer than what she had previously explained, or even expected when I had begun sharing my opinion as well.

It was nice to have someone else to talk about books with, without feeling I could possibly be disturbing them.

Most of my colleagues would either stay there until I'd be done, they knew how much I appreciated talking about these to them; even if the majority of the team wasn't much interested, they were just being polite and respectful by staying.

Now that I talk about it, I probably should have apologized for all of the times I had rambled for a large amount of time when talking about the four books I've read in a day.

They're pretty much the main subjects I talk the most about, if, of course, I exclude Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the many subjects I throw facts about all day long from the long list that includes all of the things I'm interested in;

...which would take quite a while to detail its entirety, since I probably would take the time to explain each of them as detailed as possible, without letting any word behind, as my brain would constantly send me as much information as it contains...which again, means, a lot.

But, even if my passion about them is often difficult to keep for myself without having the need to ramble an essay worth long about them, I try not to begin to talk about it, or mention it, except if someone else does.

That became rare…as I often end up talking more than intended each time.

Reading can sometimes lead me to fall asleep quite later than I planned before even taking the book itself.

Having the ability to read fast has often led to many nights with little sleep, considering how many books I can read in a short amount of time.

The aftermath of it isn't pleasant, as it results in more fatigue on top of the one I already have because of how late I'd stay up when working at the bureau.

The feeling I had this morning when I had woken up happened to be one of the side effects of a long and endless reading session I had done the previous night.

Little did I find out after thinking about it for a bit that I'd probably be regretting it at the end of the day, if not earlier.

Even if my body was telling me to stay in my bed considering how tired I was, work couldn't allow me to do it, unfortunately.

It only took a quarter of an hour in order for me to get ready, as I already had been crossing the door to leave my apartment without having the time to think about doing it.

The rest of the morning wasn't as busy as it usually would be; only paperwork for the previous days, nothing too complicated.

But because of the short night I had, the coffee trips have been quite numerous after a while.

A short conversation had occurred later in the day between y/n and me when she had gone to peek over my desk, curious to why I had been going in and out of consciousness; and leaving a lot to take refills.

I didn't mind her asking at all, on the contrary, I had been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her; but as I didn't want to disturb her, I just kept glancing discreetly at her from time to time, hoping something to talk about would awaken a future conversation.

After a while, I noticed that she had left the room, just as I had the thought of something situated in my bag.

I had soon taken it in search of what I've been looking for, as I suddenly happened to be quite surprised as I found a book that I didn't remember putting the night before, any other day, or even this morning before leaving my apartment for work at all.

‘The Collector, John Fowles’

It was a surprisingly good choice, and the person who had put it there either had good taste or personally knew my preferences; or even both.

Who knows.

Even I would be explaining it to myself, and not to anyone; I’d prefer not to engage myself in that; as it could last up to an hour considering the length, and all that is to explain in order to understand the moral, and the motives of whatever is in the character’s mind in the book; so...a lot.

“Withdrawn, uneducated and unloved, Frederick collects butterflies and takes photographs. He is obsessed with a beautiful stranger, the art student Miranda. When he wins the pools, he buys a remote Sussex house and calmly abducts Miranda, believing she will grow to love him in time. Alone and desperate, Miranda must struggle to overcome her own prejudices and contempt if she is to understand her captor, and so gain her freedom.”

The resume of the book had simply begun automatically playing itself before I could even lay my eyes on the back cover; as I had read this book more times than my two hands could ever count, and you know; because of the eidetic memory thing, even if I had read it only once, I would have remembered it anyway.

I remember reading it for the umpteenth time around last week, precisely on a saturday, at 11PM. As long as I can remember, I apparently had nothing else to do but read, and absolutely not any other book to pull out of the shelf, except that one.

Even if I had strictly- no idea -of who could have truly placed it there, except y/n-, I still had appreciated having this work as a possible distraction, or a way to pass the time if I eventually happened to have no idea of what I could do next, in case I didn’t have any work left to do.

As I raised my eyes to the desk in front of me, I happened to meet with y/n’s eyes just when she had happened to stare at me as well.

“What’s that book genius?”

“Oh, that? It’s the collector, from John Fowles. I like this one, but- is that you who put it there?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I uh- no particular reason! I just uh...wonder why it’s there…?”

“Well, read it, and you’ll see.” She said, as she stood to go god knows where.

“Read it? But I’ve already read-” I hurried out, but she had already gone out of the room, shooting me a smile before disappearing in the corner of the door. I stood there for a good minute, as I decided to open the book and read a bit of it as she previously told me to before leaving without even giving me an answer. She always liked to be mysterious, that’s kinda the reason I fell in love with her for.

It really took a while so I would get a number.

She had slid it in one of my file just when she had left the building to go home, I swore I didn’t even have any breath when I had attempted at catching her before she has gone to her car, and if I hadn’t decided to go, one minute later, she would have been on the road, and I doubt that calling people on the road would have been safe and clever for me to do it.

It might have been a bit “mean” to do that as some would say, but we always had the habit of doing that, way before we started dating. We’d always let the other try to guess what the other meant, what he wanted to say, it all was a game, a sequel to the story that would occur later, all of these discussions, secrets, have been a preparation, and kept for what happened right now.

It all was thanks to her, because if she wouldn’t have given it, I doubt that I would have gathered the courage too soon. Probably in 10 years or so, if not.

As I still was in my lecture, a bright blue paper with an inscription written in black ink had brought my attention, which led me to read it.

“I know you’re surprised, yes, it’s in a book, and yes I could have told it to you in person, but I find it better in a note, you can keep it and carry wherever you want. It's also better as a note, and, in a book, because you had always liked books, which became the passion that has made us grow closer. This book was the first one that started a conversation between us, I don’t remember the day, but you probably do. This note might be confusing, but I wanted to do that, because at least, you have a reason to finish the book, because you might have another surprise soon. -yours truly, y/n”

The note had even ended with a heart; she’d always write one at the end of her texts, even a small word sometimes, it probably was an habit of hers, I don’t really know, we never mentioned it once, as I didn’t mind at all, I really liked the attention.

Well, I pretty much like everything she does, whether she’s talking to me, talking to someone else, or doing whatever thing. I always like to see her around; I tend to get more relaxed when she’s with me; she always talks with me, and tries to know about what I do, even if I often noticed she probably didn’t understand a single word of whatever I rambled about.

Among all of the subject she was at ease with, books happened to be one of them, she’d always participate actively, as most of the subjects included in the books would often inspirate her, push her to talk more than she usually would with other subject, or even in general, I’d help her find her words, participate in the conversation by argumenting, agreeing with her opinion, sharing my opinion so that we could compare them and argument once more about the differences, I’d also initiate the conversation by switching to another book when we’d have nothing else to talk about the book, or if one of the details in the book would make me think of another one.

Our discussions would often last hours, we wouldn’t even realize the amount of hours we’ve spent talking until one of us would think to look at the time.

Even if I liked every single moment we’d spend together, if I had to choose one (a temporary, as I always change my mind on which moment I prefer as I again like every single one), It’d be our numerous discussions about books, I had and would never grow tired of it.

As much as I like to hear her talking, I often let myself get distracted by her, to the point of having to be “woken up” from my thoughts by her when I happened to not pay attention.

Because in these moments, all that matters is that I get to hear her voice, her smile as she passionately talks about what she likes, she way she always talks while moving her hands around, when she looks at me while I talk, when she touches my hand with the tip of her fingers to take the book situated in my hands.

She made me get more and more excited about the moments when I’d reach for a book in my bag, or somewhere in the drawer of my desk.

Especially when she had begun picking my interest by telling me she might propose another book the next day...or so?

I don’t think I’ve been more excited about reading a book again before now.

Who would have thought someone would have such an effect on me on a subject I admire before y/n arrived in my life? I’ve never been so passionate about something other than books before her.

My waiting (that had seemed like an eternity) had only lasted till the next day, not long after my arrival at the bureau.

I hadn’t expected it, but the book had happened to be situated close to my keyboard, which after thinking, was obvious, if I’d take account of the numerous trips we both had done throughout the morning due to various reasons concerning either paperwork or matters of previous cases.

I had taken a seat on the desk, quite empty for a while due to, again, the trips, as I had glanced at the surroundings, only to see a few members of the team, busy doing whatever task that was in front of them.

‘Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’

Again; fairly surprising, but quite a good surprise to discover, as I hadn’t seen it for a while before today.

The edition of the book present on my desk was one of the original versions of it, The cover had a black color, along with the title and the author written in large letters under the title of the book, both just on top of an illustration representing a woman holding a bouquet of various types of flowers, behind it, the outfit she wore was visible; a white embroidery, with a grey-ish and black necklace on top of it, which was situated around her neck. The illustration was displayed in the shape of a large square, almost taking the rest of the bottom of the cover, as a space was present after the closure of the white border around the illustration.

My eyes wandered around the cover, as I switched sides, ending up on the back of it.

“Considered by many to be Dickens’s finest novel, Great Expectations traces the growth of the book’s narrator, the orphan Philip Pirrip (Pip), from a boy of shallow dreams to a man with depth of character. From its famous dramatic opening on the bleak Kentish marshes, the story abounds, with some of Dickens’s most memorable characters; Among them are-”

I wasn’t able to finish the rest of the summary, as a familiar scent had caught my attention, two arms embraced my shoulders.

“You didn’t say hi today. I’m gonna begin to think you don’t love me anymore.” She had said, in an obvious playful tone that had taken some time for me to understand as it was, only a joke.

“Sorry, I’m married to someone, my work.” I had said, before the feel of her lips on my left cheek interrupted me; as, before she could go, I turned my face, stealing a kiss from her.

“Is that your apology?” She asked.

“If you see it that way, yeah.”

“Then I accept your apologies;”

“I’m glad, I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state that would make you sad, all because of me.” I talked in a dramatic tone, which seemed as if I was doing a play, but she had laughed at it, so, turns out that my ‘play’ had been worth it after all.

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I only read the summary. Why, is there something there again?”

“See by yourself.” She said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the book, as I opened it per request.

When my eyes fell on the first page, I had expected to see the page on which the title and the author are written in black, but instead of it, a picture that had apparently been printed in a matte paper was taped on the page.

The picture had contained a picture of me, reading a book while I was sitting on the floor, against the wall, of what seemed to be my apartment, the book I was holding seemed to be the same ones I was holding in my hands.

“When did you take that? I never saw you taking your phone when we were together.”

“That’s because you never pay attention to your surroundings when you read. A fire could happen in the apartment and you wouldn’t even notice it until you’d smell the smoke.”

“No, you’re lying, I do pay attention…sometimes.”

“See? You admitted it yourself. The tone of your voice when you reached the end of the sentence even said it for you.”

“Yeah but, did I...do something wrong or…?”

“No, nothing wrong. On the contrary, your focus was so strong that I was able to take the picture. So, that’s a good thing, do that more.”

“Now that you told me that, I’m gonna pay more attention, you might attempt to kill me behind my back.”

“Yeah, I might kill you if you keep saying that. I’ll kill you with a bad book, I’d be a shame to kill you with a good book, I might damage it.”

“You care more about a book instead of possibly committing a murder on the one and only love of your life?”

“My one and only love is tea, you know it.” She said, as I faked being offended. “Come on, I’m kidding. But, if you keep insinuating that, I’ll care more about the book. So, if you don’t want me to kill my one and only love, behave on your best.”

“Okay, behave on my best.” I said, tracing the outline of the picture with my index. “Even if the thought of seeing myself in that picture is kinda weird, I’ll keep it. Thanks for it, I’ll read it, well, if...I get to finish the work on my desk.” I said, as we both glanced at the paperwork on the desk.

“Yeah...I, uh. Yeah. I don’t want to...sadden you even more, but you should check your mails, there...might be more.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder before leaving, the smile on my face dropping as I came to the realization.

“I guess the reading session is getting postponed then.”

The week had really been full of a lot of surprises (if I don’t count the case we had, of course), she had pulled out books I haven’t read for years; books that I had wanted to read, but never got the time for; or even books I’ve never read, but she had surprisingly matched my taste well, as I ended up liking them more than I thought I would before even starting the book.

To my surprise, we had gotten to have rest for once after the busy week that cancelled all of our plans in a snap.

I haven’t even realized that it already was October 31st today, the work had completely gone over everything else that made up my thoughts, to the point that I haven’t thought of the book y/n had chosen today.

She’d always put it either on the top of my desk where I could see it, or in my bag, but after a minute or so of searching, I didn’t see it.

The only book that I could see was in my bag, a copy of ‘The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle’, I had always left it there, it was one of my favorite books, I had never gotten anywhere without it.

‘Maybe she forgot about it today. It happens.’

We had a small party like we usually do (when a case doesn’t interrupt us, of course), and various small events had been organized.

As I had been looking around, my attention had been snatched away by a hand slightly tapping my right shoulder, as I turned around to see y/n.

“Missed me?”

“Yeah, I did.” I said, as I brought her closer, and brought my lips to hers, as we exchanged a brief kiss. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Penelope, just for a bit, because if you didn’t see it, she wasn’t around either.”

“Wasn’t she? Oh, apparently not.” I said, as I saw her coming in, walking in the direction of Emily who had called her.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, and books.”

“Oh, talking about books, did you notice something?”

“Something? Uh, no. I haven’t seen one, except the book I always carry.”

“And what is it?”

“The Narrative of John Smith, why?”

“Well, you just noticed something. The book you just saw is the one you were looking for.”

“But, I had it yesterday, and all of the days before. I-I don’t get it.”

"In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s October 31st today; the date the book was published by the edition you own, it even was the first book I laid my eyes on when we met.” She pointed out.

“...you just reduced my IQ to 60 in a minute.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I knew it was our anniversary, but never had I thought that this book was involved.”

“Now you did, and you better remember it, and never forget to carry it.”

“I would never.” I said, as I gently put my hand on her cheek, as she suddenly raised herself on the tip of her toes, kissing me before I even got the time to think of it.

“Happy anniversary Spence.”

“Happy anniversary y/n.”

#Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 23

31: We have to let go

Last time, Belle and Gold made the final preparations for their baby, and Belle sought a reconciliation with her father. Here’s what happened next.

[AO3]

Gold pushed the jeweller’s glass into his eye socket, peering at the tiny cog on the square of black velvet. He reached for the pair of steel tweezers by its side, carefully picking up the cog and transferring it to the silver music box that lay open in front of him. He had been working on it whenever he had a spare moment whilst in Storybrooke, though in truth there had been little opportunity since he had effectively moved to Boston. Belle had not returned from visiting her father, and in order to distract himself from thoughts of marching over there to make sure she was alright, he had decided to concentrate on the music box. Over the past six weeks or so he had cleaned the mechanism, replaced the bent and broken pieces, and carefully and methodically put every piece in its place. This was among the last of them.

The sound of the shop doorbell made him glance up, and he shook his head, turning back to his work.

“A moment,” he called. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“It’s okay, it’s only me.”

Belle’s voice made him smile, and he put down the tweezers, removing the glass from his eye socket and turning on the stool to face her as she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the back room. She looked a little strained around the eyes, but she was smiling.

“How did it go?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

“That was going to be my question.”

“Oh…” Belle sighed, flopping down on the cot. “Okay, I guess. He apologised. Kind of. We talked. He’s not happy about you being in my life, but I told him he’ll have to get used to it.”

“Hmm.” Gold ran a hand through his hair. “Christmas will be fun.”

“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Her tone was very dry, and it made him grin, even as he shuddered internally at the thought of having to spend the festive season with Moe French.

“The shop’s doing okay,” she went on. “I had a quick look through the accounts. He’s got a few weddings this month, which is always good for business. Keeps complaining about not having the time to do anything else, so I’ve tried to convince him to get some help in.”

“You think that’s likely?” he asked. “He always managed by himself before you helped him out. I presumed he’d do the same after you left.”

“Yeah, but I think he needs to,” she said. “Just a few hours. Maybe get one of the school seniors to help at weekends, or something. They could cover the shop while he does the wedding arrangements.”

“Well, perhaps he’ll take your advice,” said Gold, and Belle pulled a face.

“He doesn’t look too well,” she said then. “Says he’s been very tired recently. I told him to go to the doctor, but you know how he is.”

“You think it’s something serious?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“He’s overweight, diabetic, high blood pressure - I just worry his heart is gonna give out one day,” she said. “It’s not as though he looks after himself. The shop keeps him active, I suppose, but I bet he’s still drinking too much and avoiding veggies like they’re poison.”

“Well, you can only suggest a course of action,” he said. “It’s up to him to take it.”

“I know.”

She looked gloomy, and he tried to steer her away from talk of her father’s ill health.

“What did he say about the baby?” he asked.

“Asked when it was due, if I had everything I needed…” Belle put a hand to the small of her back. “He says he’ll visit when the baby’s born.”

“Great.”

It was said under his breath, and he winced at the reluctant tone of his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you wanted to make things up with him. I’m happy for you, really. Don’t listen to my complaining.”

“Can I have that in writing?” She looked amused, and he smiled.

“You know how I feel about formalising agreements.”

“Well, I’d hate to hold you to a promise you can’t keep,” she teased. “How about you buy me dinner tonight and we call it even?”

“That sounds like a deal I couldn’t possibly refuse,” he said. “Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so.” She peered at the bench behind him. “What are you working on?”

“Oh - it’s a music box,” he said. “I’ve been restoring it for some time now. Almost finished.”

“Oh.” She heaved a breath, letting her shoulders drop as she let out a sigh. “You can finish it, if you like. I don’t mind waiting.”

Gold hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the music box.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be here next week, after all. Gives me something to do in between dealing with business matters.”

She smiled, and he pushed to his feet, carefully putting the remaining pieces of the music box into a small pot and rolling up the square of black velvet. Belle was chewing her lip, staring off into the distance, and he folded his hands over the cane handle, looking at her.

“We can always stay another night, if you’re worried about him,” he said. “I could - uh - make dinner. You could invite him round. If you like.”

Belle glanced around at that, and the way her eyes lit up made him forget about any distaste he felt at the idea of spending an evening with Moe French.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, her tone warm. “But I think we’ll take things one step at a time. I still haven’t talked to him about all those ridiculous lies he told you about me and Gaston.”

“Ah.” Gold wanted to scowl at the memory, but he kept his face neutral.

“Not sure I will,” she added. “At least not right now. I don’t think I have the energy.”

“Fair enough.”

“How did things go with Dr Hopper?” she asked, and he blew out his cheeks, huffing air.

“We’re making progress,” he said. “Slow, but progress all the same.”

"Good."

"The fact that it's slow is my fault, not his," he added, and she gave him a patient look.

"It's no one's fault," she said gently. "It's just a process, and it takes as long as it takes."

"Yeah." He sighed the word, looking at the floor. "I suppose there are no quick fixes, are there?"

"Exactly," she said. "So no giving yourself a hard time because you're not magically fixed after a few sessions, okay?"

"Okay." He looked up again and smiled at her. "Dr Hopper says the same. And the sessions are going about as well as could be expected, in the circumstances. So that's something."

“Well, that’s good.” Belle stood, shouldering her bag and rolling her shoulders. “You want to tell me about it in the car? I think I want to get home.”

“Of course.”

Gold took off the apron he was wearing and went to the small bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned Belle was peering at the music box with a tiny smile on her face.

“It’s so pretty,” she said. “What tune does it play?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Is it for sale?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “We’ll see how it sounds. Maybe we can play it to the baby, get him to fall asleep.”

Belle straightened up, beaming at him.

“You think it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “That was a slip of the tongue. Honestly, I’d be happy with anything as long as it’s human.”

He grinned at her, and Belle bit her lip, looking amused.

“I think we can guarantee it’ll be human.”

“The rest of Storybrooke may question that, given that I’m the father,” he remarked dryly.

“Well, the rest of Storybrooke can kiss my arse, then,” she said, and Gold burst out laughing, reaching out to take her hand and pull her close.

“Oh, I’m not sharing that pleasure with anyone,” he murmured, and bent his head to kiss her.

Belle found that she grew nervous as April wore on and the time for the baby to be born drew nearer. She told herself it was fear of the unknown; no matter how many books she read or videos she watched on the birthing process, she felt that she knew nothing at all. Emma had been wonderful, patiently talking her through every minute of her labour with Henry, but Belle was well aware that Emma’s experience would not necessarily be her own. It didn't help that she was now extremely uncomfortable; the baby had moved, head down towards her pelvis, and she had been suffering from an ever-present backache and an overwhelming need to run to the bathroom. It reminded her that the baby would soon be outside of her, and that she would need to endure a lot of pain for that to happen. She told herself that women had been giving birth for thousands of years, and there was no reason she should find it any more difficult than they had, but she had made the mistake of reading about everything that could possibly go wrong in childbirth. It hadn't helped her nerves. At least her hospital bag was packed and ready to go. It sat in the hallway of the apartment and made her anxious every time she passed it.

She had expected Gold to be as nervous as she, given his past pain and the loss of his son, but he was surprisingly calm, and talked her down from a minor panic attack with soothing words and a bubble bath. He got in with her, sitting at the opposite end with his knees poking up through the fragrant bubbles, the hot water making his skin flush a little. Belle let him take her foot and start to massage it.

“Sorry I seem to be losing it,” she said, as she lay back. “How are you being so calm? We’re gonna be parents in like a fortnight!”

Gold grinned, his eyes soft, but still with that glint in them that she loved. His thumb worked magic circles on the ball of her foot, and she heaved a sigh, trying to relax.

“Yes, and I can’t wait,” he said. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, but - mostly nervous,” she said. “I know it’ll hurt, but - but what if I can’t bear it?”

“You talked through your pain relief options,” he said. “You can speak to the doctor again, if you think it’ll put your mind at ease.”

“I guess.”

“I have every faith in you,” he added. “And in the medical staff. I know how independent you are, and how hard it can be to rely so completely on others, but in these circumstances, I think we both have to trust that they know better than we do. We have to let go.”

“Yeah.”

Belle chewed her lip, running a hand over the curve of her belly.

“I know you’re right,” she added.

“It’s perfectly natural to be nervous the first time,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure next time will be easier.”

“Next time?”

“Ah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing his lower lip up over his teeth. “Forget I said that.”

“Hmm.” She was amused, and poked him with a foot. “Let’s get this one out before we think about the next, okay?”

“Agreed.”

He was grinning at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back, enjoying the easy banter. The fears were still there, whispering at the back of her mind, but she found that talking about them with him was helping.

“What if something goes wrong and they have to cut me open?” she said then.

“Then you’ll need to take things even easier after the birth and leave more to me, that’s what,” he said. “You’ll be in excellent hands. You have the best hospital staff in Boston caring for you and the baby, I promise.”

“I’d have a scar.”

Gold lifted her foot, kissing her toes.

“And it’ll be beautiful.”

“And - and even if I manage to give birth naturally, they’ll probably have to give me stitches,” she added. “That’s gotta hurt, right?”

Gold sighed.

“Look, I can’t pretend to understand your fears or to know what you’re going through,” he said gently. “But you are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I know you’re going to be just fine.”

He resumed the massage, thumb rubbing in slow circles, and Belle sighed, feeling the tension start to drain out of her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just - I’ve been pregnant all this time and it’s like I’ve just realised I actually have to get this person that’s inside me outside. Does that make sense?”

Gold shrugged, grinning.

“I’m not sure I can ever entirely empathise,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for being as helpful as I can.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made yourself useful since you moved in,” she said, poking him with her toes again, and his grin widened.

“Indispensable, I would hope.”

“Absolutely.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Belle giggled a little, and wriggled a little, slipping down in the hot water and letting out a long, heavy sigh as she felt her body soften under the rhythmic sweeps of his thumbs.

“That’s better,” he murmured, moving his hands up to massage her calf. “Just relax.”

“Mm.” Belle watched him through half-closed eyes. “Emma, Neal and Henry are coming over Friday, by the way. Do you think you could make something for dinner? Nothing fancy, just anything I can shove in the oven.”

“I don’t mind cooking while you talk to your friends,” he said absently, and looked up. “Oh, unless you want me to find somewhere else to be, of course.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Of course you could be here. It’s just I thought you’d be in Storybrooke most of the day.”

Gold pulled a face.

“You sure you want me to go?” he asked. “It’s the week before the baby’s due.”

“What about your therapy session?” she asked, and he sighed.

“True,” he allowed. “I suppose I really should try to make that.”

“Do you not want to go?”

Gold hesitated a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just - well, perhaps you’re not the only one who’s a little nervous. Maybe I’m just better at hiding it. I want to be here for you every step of the way, and I worry about leaving you alone for any length of time. Just in case.”

Belle smiled, reaching out to run a hand over his knee.

“It’s only a few hours away,” she pointed out. “And it’s only one day. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, Emma and Neal will be here, it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

He let go of her foot, and she slipped it back under the water as he reached for the other.

“You said your father was planning on coming to Boston,” he said. “Did he say when?”

“No, he said he’d let me settle in with the baby first,” she said. “He asked that I call him when it’s born, but I think he was planning on leaving the visit for a week or two.”

“Will he stay long?”

“I doubt it. He has the shop to run for a start, and unless he gets an assistant in like I suggested, there’s no one to cover. I imagine it’ll only be for a day or two.”

Gold nodded, and she gave him a wry look.

“I think he’s planning on making his own way here,” she added. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask you to go pick him up.”

He grunted at that.

“Good,” he remarked. “The idea of spending four hours in a confined space with Moe French doesn’t fill me with joy, I have to confess.”

“I expect the feeling’s mutual.”

A soft chuckle, and he glanced up at her.

“Don’t know how you put up with us.”

“Well, I’m an extremely patient person.”

“I noticed,” he said, with a wry twist to his mouth. “Far too good for the likes of me.”

Belle pressed her lips together.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t trash talk yourself anymore,” she said sternly, and he inclined his head.

“Work in progress,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“I’ve had years of practice, after all,” he added. “Old habits die hard.”

Belle sat forward, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek. Bubbles ran over her arm, dripping into the bath around them, and she held his eyes with her own.

“You’re a good man,” she said gently. “And you’re going to be a wonderful father. Okay?”

Gold smiled, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I promise you that.”

“That’s all anyone could ask.”

He kissed her fingertips, and she settled back in the warm water with a sigh as he continued his massage. Two weeks until the baby gets here. We’re going to be a family.

The clock on the wall ticked slowly. Gold was sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, studying the rug between the shining toes of his shoes. Dr Hopper was waiting patiently for him to speak, and he threaded his fingers together and pulled them apart, a whispery sound of skin against skin.

“So you said the baby was due on May fifth,” said Dr Hopper. “How are you feeling about that?”

“Belle’s nervous,” said Gold, fingers moving restlessly. “I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s anxious about the birth.”

“Well, that’s understandable, given that this is her first child.”

“I know. I’ve tried to tell her that, but I’m not sure I’m helping.”

Dr Hopper scribbled briefly.

“And how do you feel about it?” he asked. Gold shrugged.

“She’s in good hands. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I don’t want to see her in pain, of course.”

“And the baby?”

“The baby will be fine too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Dr Hopper calmly. “You said in our first meeting that you were excited to be a father again. Do you have any other feelings?”

Gold hesitated, ducking his head a little.

“I am excited,” he said eventually. “But there’s this underlying sense of - unease - I suppose.”

“About what?”

“About bringing this child into the world when I couldn’t hold onto the last,” he said, his voice soft. “About whether I’ll fail to protect it. Whether I’ll be - enough.”

“Do you worry that Belle will take it from you?”

“No,” he said, after a pause. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. Not really. Not now I’ve told her how much the thought of it scares me. Belle wouldn’t use my own fears against me like that. She isn’t cruel.”

“Of course not.”

Dr Hopper waited, and Gold ran a hand across the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“It’s more a fear of what may happen in the future,” he said eventually. “That my child will leave and not come back. That I’ll drive him away; something that I say or do will be the last straw, and he’ll leave.”

“I see.” He could hear the sound of Dr Hopper’s pen scratching away. “Is there anything that sets off this train of thought?”

“Not really.” Gold thought for a moment. “Maybe. When I think about Bailey.”

“Your first son?” Dr Hopper nodded slowly. “You said he was two when his mother took him away.”

“Yes.”

“What was it that made her go?”

“I don’t know…” Gold sat back with a sigh. “She was seeing someone else. She was bored with me. I wanted financial and physical stability for our child, and she wanted excitement and - and drama for herself. The two were incompatible. We were incompatible.”

“Was there something specific that you said or did that made her leave?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“So the leaving was her choice.”

“Yes.”

“And your son had no choice in the matter at all,” added Dr Hopper. “Being two.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why do you think it makes you worry about this child leaving?”

Gold hesitated.

“I suppose when you say it like that, it’s ridiculous,” he admitted, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Oh, I find there’s very little that’s completely ridiculous,” he said. “Sometimes the reasons behind someone’s thought patterns may be a little convoluted, but there’s usually some basis in reality. Unfortunately, sometimes our minds focus on the least likely and most painful scenarios that may come from that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” grumbled Gold.

“So if you know that it wasn’t your son’s choice to leave,” said Dr Hopper. “Why do you fear your second child leaving you?”

“Because he never came back.”

Gold snapped his mouth shut, feeling tears prick his eyes, a heavy weight seeming to shift inside him. Dr Hopper was silent, waiting, and he forced himself to speak.

“He never came back,” he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I tried to find him for - for years. I employed private detectives and followed up leads and took out advertisements....” He broke off with a bark of a laugh. “I even went on some of those stupid shows where they try to reunite you with lost loved ones. I thought - I thought even if he didn’t watch them himself, maybe someone who knew him would see, they’d tell him. And - and nothing. He doesn’t want to be found. He - he doesn’t want me to find him.”

“Do you think that’s because of something you did?” Dr Hopper’s tone was careful, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe it was what I didn’t do,” he said. “Milah always said I worked too much. I should have spent more time with him.”

“How much do you think he remembers?” asked Dr Hopper. “Given that he was two.”

“I don’t know…” Gold ran his hands over his face. “Why wouldn’t he look for his father? If she abandoned him, if she left him with Social Services, why wouldn’t he seek me out? All these years I’ve told myself that maybe he had no information to go on, that she told him nothing about me, but maybe that’s not the case. Maybe he chose not to look.”

“I understand how painful those thoughts must be,” said Dr Hopper gently. “Let’s consider your other child for a moment. You worry that you’ll do or say something to make this child leave and not come back.”

“Yes.”

“Some - confrontation, perhaps,” he went on. “I’m assuming you’re looking ahead to when the child is a teenager or a young adult.”

“Yes.”

“Conflict between a parent and child is the most natural thing in the world,” added Dr Hopper, his tone reassuring. “Especially when a child is maturing and starting to make its own choices.”

“I don’t want to be the reason my child leaves,” whispered Gold, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Then how about you and I talk through some ways of communicating that should maximise your chances of avoiding something like that?” he suggested.

“Alright.” Gold nodded. “Yes. Good.”

“You’ll probably find these techniques useful in other relationships,” he added, and Gold gave him a wry smile.

“Good.”

“I’m going to give you some homework to do, as well,” said Dr Hopper. “Recording these unwanted thoughts. There are some worksheets I’d like you to complete. A kind of journal.”

“Alright.” Gold slumped a little in the chair, feeling drained. “It’ll give me something to do while we’re waiting for the baby to arrive.”

“So.” Emma slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, folding her arms across the back and eyeing Belle. “Not long now. You have your bag packed and ready?”

“It’s in the hall,” said Belle, sliding the casserole into the oven and closing the door. “You guys want a drink?”

“You sit down, me and Henry are on it,” said Neal. “I’m guessing some sort of tea?”

“Yeah, can I have fennel?” asked Belle, rubbing a hand over her belly. “This little guy’s been kicking so hard it gave me indigestion.”

“Wine for me,” said Emma, and grinned at Belle. “Hey, I can’t wait until the two of us can have a girls’ night. You can leave Gold changing diapers and come out and get wasted.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Belle sat down with a sigh of relief, still rubbing her belly. She had been having odd twinges all day, and it was getting on her nerves.

“I think he’d be in his element, anyway,” she said. “It’s gonna be a new thing for him, having a newborn to care for, but he’s been reading all the books. I think he’ll be great.”

“Wasn’t he around when his son was born?” asked Neal.

“I’m sure he would have been, had he known about it,” she said dryly, and Neal and Emma winced.

“Ouch,” said Emma. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah.” Belle slumped in her chair a little. “I get the feeling that’s not the only issue from his past that he needs to work through.”

“How’s the therapy going?” asked Emma, and Belle wrinkled her nose.

“He seems - less anxious about it,” she said eventually. “I think it took him a while to open up, but that’s no surprise. He’s committed to it, though.”

“Is that where he is now?”

“That’s the reason he went to Storybrooke, but he’s had his session,” said Belle. “I spoke to him this afternoon. He said he had a tenancy issue to sort out and then he’d be on his way back.”

She flinched as another spasm went through her. That one had hurt more than the last. Neal set a cup of fennel tea in front of her and gave Henry his cocoa before pouring two glasses of wine and slipping into the chair next to Emma. He was watching her with a tiny frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You keep wincing.”

“Yeah, just twinges,” said Belle, and Emma looked thoughtful.

“What kind of twinges?”

“Just - I don’t know, I guess the baby’s head is pressing on something. It’s been going on most of the day.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, it does now,” sighed Belle. “Figured it was Braxton Hicks. They’ve been driving me nuts this past month, but this is hurting more.”

“You got any backache?”

“Yeah,” said Belle, pressing a hand to her back. “God, I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“You may get your wish sooner than you think,” said Emma. “Sounds like you could be in early labour.”

“What?” Belle shook her head. “But the baby’s not due until next week.”

“Yeah, but babies don’t always stick to the schedule, and everything you just described could be early labour pains,” said Emma. “How often are you getting the twinges?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe a few times an hour?”

“Hmm.” Emma reached for her glass of wine. “You might want to time them. Could be nothing. Could be something.”

“Is the baby coming?” asked Henry excitedly.

“Maybe, kid.” Emma took a sip of her wine. “Belle, what time’s Alex getting back?”

“I don’t know, he said he’d call when he left.” Belle rubbed at her back, trying to ease the dull ache. “You think I should call him?”

“Not until you need to go to hospital,” said Emma. “If it is early labour you’ve probably got a good few hours before then. The baby probably won’t come until tomorrow.”

“Right.” Belle turned her mug of tea with nervous fingers. “Wow. Is this really it?”

Emma reached over to grasp her hand.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she said firmly. “We can time the contractions, and we’ll stay with you until Gold gets back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Belle tapped her fingers against the mug restlessly. The dull ache in her lower back was getting worse, and the pain wasn’t helped by her nerves.

“D’you want me to read you a story?” asked Henry. “I always feel better if I get a story.”

Belle smiled at him.

“Thanks Henry, that sounds great.”

“Cool! I’m gonna read you the one about Beauty and the Beast!”

He slipped from the table and ran through to the lounge to get the storybook he carried everywhere. Belle was feeling restless, fingers still tapping, and she pushed to her feet, almost toppling the chair over backwards.

“You okay?” asked Neal.

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered. “I’m just - excuse me a moment.”

She strode from the room, heading for the bathroom. There was wetness between her legs, a sudden rush of fluid. She had taken to wearing pads in the lead-up to her due date, as the literature suggested, and this felt like something that needed attention. A strong cramp went through her, and Belle stopped dead, pressing a hand to her belly with a groan, her heart thumping. How long since the last one? Ten minutes? Less?

“Belle?” Emma had put her head around the kitchen door and was eyeing her curiously. “You okay?”

Belle turned on her toes slowly, trying to steady her breathing as the cramping continued.

“Could you call Alex?” she asked. “I think my waters just broke.”

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

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loftec · 3 years

Note

Hi! in this prompt, could we know about Mickey's ex boyfriend or something? I think his name was Matt?

thank you for participating + pre NTW - Mickey's POV 👀

Anon: tell us about Matt

Yevgeny: his name was Mark

Mickey, pinching the bridge of his nose: Martin, and no. I’m not gonna tell you about Martin.

Narrator: little did Mickey know that he had zero say on the matter, let’s goooo.

April 13, 2013. Saturday.

Mickey is just off the L when his phone rings. For a moment, he considers ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as he lights up a cigarette and bounds down the metal steps. The list of people likely to call him is very limited, and most of that list is very welcome to fuck off to voicemail on a Saturday evening. Work can fuck off, telemarketers can doubly fuck off. On this particular Saturday, even his extended family can fuck off. It might be Martin, wondering where he is, but he can quite frankly also fuck off, seeing as Mickey is no more than five minutes away from their agreed rendezvous.

That only leaves one, and the thought alone is enough for Mickey to step out of the flow of people rushing to and from the platform, and check the damned call. Seeing the ID, he quickly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.

”What the fuck?” he asks, unsure if he should be annoyed or alarmed and figuring this would best cover a bit of both.

”Hey dad,” his son says, unexpectedly.

”Yev?” Mickey says, inching towards annoyed. At least his son is unharmed enough to dial a phone, so it can’t be too bad. ”What’s wrong? Where’s Sonya?”

”She’s right here,” Yevgeny says, he sounds fine, normal, good, ”we can’t find the cake poking thing.”

Staring at the empty space in front of him, Mickey feels the rest of his mood swan dive head-first into annoyed. ”The what?”

”The thing we use to poke cakes, to check if they’re done? We can’t find it and we need it, the cake is almost done.”

Taking the forgotten cigarette from his lips, Mickey angles the burning end away from his face as he rubs at the deep line between his eyebrows.

”Kid,” he says, trying to sound calm, ”give the phone to Sonya.”

There are some muffled noises over the line, and then Mickey can hear his son’s distant voice. ”He wants to talk to you.”

”Hey Mickey,” Sonya comes on, breezy as anything. ”Is it supposed to be in the cutlery drawer? Been rifling through that thing for a good minute already.”

”Are you fucking kidding me?”

”What? It’s not such a weird guess, is it? I’d say it’s cutlery adjacent at least.”

”I’ve been outta the fucking house for less than forty minutes!” Mickey says, calmly. He is absolutely not screeching loud enough to have people on the street give him concerned looks. ”And you call me about some fucking–, I don’t have anything like that! Who has a thing specifically for poking cakes?!”

”Oh please,” Sonya scoffs. ”Plenty people do, you being one of them!”

He wants to point out that this is categorically not what he meant when he said ’call me if there’s an emergency’, but he’s got a feeling that this is only going to get him into an argument about the definition of ’emergency’ that he’s not going to win, and besides, he’s got bigger fish to fry right now.

”I absolutely do fucking not!” he splutters, glaring at a couple throwing him side-eye as they rush past him. ”Are you outta your mind?”

”I know you have one, because I gave it to you,” Sonya says, clanking sounds in the background from where she’s still presumably rifling through Mickey’s shit. ”Remember? When you moved in? I got it in Sweden when I was visiting for my cousin’s wedding. It was hand crafted, Mickey, you better not have thrown it out!”

”That thing?” Mickey balks, smoothly electing to not point out that they both know Sonya came home from her trip with like ten of those in her luggage and then spent the next two years giving them to all her friends and family whenever she’d forgot about getting gifts for an occasion. ”I stuck it in Merida.”

The silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and it takes a second for Mickey to hear what he just said.

”Who is Merida, and do I want to know why you stuck my hand-carved Swedish cake poker in her?”

Mickey sighs, and decides that he doesn’t have to answer that. He can try, at least. ”Tell Yev it’s in Merida.”

”I most certainly will not tell your sweet summer child that you’ve stuck the cake poker in–,” her increasingly high pitched voice abruptly falls to a hiss, ”–Merida, who is Merida?”

Luckily, Mickey can hear his son in the background, saving him from having to explain. ”It’s this thing?”

There’s another silence, Mickey takes the opportunity to smoke and accept the inevitable.

”Two questions,” Sonya says, her usual good humor back in her voice. ”One, you stuck my hand-carved Swedish souvenir in a potted plant? And two, you named the plant Merida?”

”It’s cartoon character–,” Mickey starts, before realizing what he’s saying and cutting himself off, ”I didn’t name it, obviously.”

”But you still call it by its name.”

”Whatever,” Mickey blows out a puff of smoke and can’t help smiling. Sometimes he just has to stop and take stock of how fucking ridiculous his life has turned out. And how much he fucking likes it, despite himself. ”Congratulations, you found it. Any other emergency you needed me for, or can I get back to my–”

He swallows, catching himself mid-sentence, suddenly unsure of how he intended to end it.

”–thing.”

”You’re there already?” Sonya asks, sounding genuinely remorseful now. ”Sorry, you left so late I thought for sure you’d missed the train and would still be en route, or I wouldn’t have told Yev to call. How’s the date going?”

Mickey swallows again, throat dry. He starts walking down the street in the direction of the bar.

”It’s fine, still on the way,” he says, ”and it’s not a date.”

”Like heck it isn’t,” Sonya tuts, ”you’re out on a Yev weekend for the first time since I’ve known you, and I saw that shirt you’re wearing.”

He runs a hand self-consciously along his belt, his button-down still tucked in and in place. He refuses to worry about it.

”You looked good, Mickey, I meant to tell you,” Sonya continues, and she doesn’t even sound like she’s teasing anymore which Mickey knows even less how to handle. ”And you’re undeniably on a date.”

”Shut up,” Mickey mutters and smiles to himself when Sonya laughs. Feeling a little more himself, he chucks his cigarette to the curb and stops to look across the road at his destination. ”Maybe.”

He hadn’t really considered the possibility, before Martin asked him. But the sex was always good, they got along really well, and when Martin looked up at him from his bed as Mickey was pulling on his jeans, his hair rumpled and lips still shiny, and asked if he wanted to go to some kind of hipster showcase gig together, Mickey had barely even hesitated.

”About time, too,” Sonya says. ”Was starting to think the guy wasn’t all there, taking his sweet time. Maybe he was waiting for you to ask.”

”Ey,” Mickey shakes his head, ”it’s only been a couple of months.”

”Try six! That’s half of a whole year.”

”Try minding your own fucking business,” Mickey says and frowns. Maybe it has been that long since the first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they’ve been fucking on the regular the whole time since then.

”Just happy for you, Mickey,” Sonya says, like it’s an easy thing for her to say. ”You like him, right?”

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t outright deny it either, which probably tells Sonya everything she needs to know.

”Gotta go,” he says instead, ”and don’t call me again unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. See you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if she’s got something to say to that, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Staring at the unassuming building across the street, he allows himself a moment to take it all in. He’s just casing the joint before he enters, it’s normal fucking behavior. He isn’t stalling.

It doesn’t look too busy from the outside, there’s no line, and no bouncer or guard by the propped open double doors. The walls of the building are littered with layers of posters, on both sides of the doors and across the covered windows. Not much can be seen through the doors from his vantage point, but he assumes that it’s a front room leading to whatever’s going on inside the building.

There’s a guy standing off to the side of the doors, smoking. He’s got a lanyard shoved down his back pocket, ID badge dangling in clear sight. Most likely someone working at the bar, out on a break. His shoulders are hunched and he’s got a phone clutched to his ear, head bent and lips pressed together in a thin line. He nods at whatever is being said to him over the phone. Mickey looks up at the worn sign above the door.

”Fuck it,” Mickey mutters and, pushing aside the last of his niggling doubt, makes his way across the street and through the doors. It’s dark enough inside that his eyes need a second to adjust, before he quickly orients himself and heads toward the noise and lights leaking out from behind a set of swing doors beyond the coat check.

”Excuse me!” someone pipes up behind him, and he turns back to raise his eyebrows at the girl standing behind a counter by the entrance. ”We’ve got a showcase tonight, you need to buy a ticket.”

She makes an apologetic face as Mickey gets closer and pulls out his wallet.

”25,” she says when he gives her a questioning look.

”Christ,” he mutters, but forks over the money. ”This better be good.”

”We’ve got a really exciting lineup tonight, all local acts,” she says, obviously relieved now that he’s payed and she can tuck away his hard earned cash in her little lock box. ”I’m hoping I can take a break soon so I can sneak a peak of the headliner.”

She winks at him as she hands over a ticket, and he has zero fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with any of that.

”Okay?” he says and accepts the ticket. ”What’s this for? I’m already here.”

”In case you want to go in and out,” she says, and then tacks on when she seems to remember something she’s supposed to say; ”there’s no smoking in the venue.”

Mickey shrugs and pockets the ticket, biting back the urge to tell her that there’s no fucking smoking anywhere these days, thank you very much. The girl is still smiling at him when he turns his back on her and heads for the bar.

”Have fun!”

Finally inside, the place seems to be a collection of smaller rooms with some walls knocked down to make a larger, oddly shaped space. The bar is crowded, three bartenders moving around each other and pouring drinks in the narrow space behind it, and all the tables tucked away in the dark half-room next to it seem occupied. In the main room, Mickey finds the small, raised stage with a bigger crowd gathered in front of it. There’s a guy on stage, talking about something and looking like he’s about to cry while getting thoroughly ignored by a majority of his audience.

Mickey included, when he spots Martin a bit to the left of the stage. He’s talking to a couple of people he must have met in the crowd, smiling in that carefree way of his, eyes squeezed together and head tossed back when he laughs. He seems to do that a lot, laugh and talk and make friends wherever he goes. Open about himself in casual throw-away lines as he lets Mickey into his apartment, takes his clothes off, catching his breath, seeing Mickey off again. It’s nice seeing him out here, in the real world.

Maybe this could work. Mickey really should have tried harder to be on time, leaving your date to make new friends while he waits for you to show up seems like a bad move, now that he thinks about it.

Shit. Here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Martin exclaims, face lighting up with a wide smile when Mickey walks into his line of sight. He doesn’t sound upset, really doesn’t look it either when he pulls Mickey in for a quick kiss. It’s over before Mickey’s had the chance to do much else than blink in surprise.

”I’m late,” he acknowledges and hopes Martin will take the attempt at an apology for what it is.

”It’s fine,” Martin gins at him, tilting his head in the direction of the stage, ”you haven’t missed anything good.”

”– have you ever noticed that?” the guy on stage mutters into the microphone, ”I mean–, uh, I’ve noticed, that–, sometimes–”

Tuning the guy out again, Mickey looks past his date at the two people still standing on his other side, regarding them curiously.

”We got a problem?” he asks them, raising his eyebrows further when the woman just smiles at him.

”Oh,” Martin says, angling himself so the four of them make a little semi-circle in the crowd. ”My friends, Nora, Ethan, this is Mickey.”

Mickey stares at the side of Martin’s face for a moment, before he notices Ethan’s outstretched hand. He feels confused enough to grab it in a quick handshake. The woman, Nora, just keeps smiling.

”Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, clearly hiding something. People generally aren’t this smiley without an agenda, in Mickey’s experience.

”Sure,” Mickey says, glancing at Martin for some clue as to what he’s supposed to do now.

”You wanna go get yourself a drink?” Martin asks, pointing in the direction of the bar. ”This comedy train wreck should be over soon, hopefully.”

”Sure,” Mickey says again, wrong-footed by the whole odd situation and frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the feeling that he’s made a huge mistake.

”Go with him!” Nora says, making Martin take a half-step closer to Mickey by shoving lightly at his shoulder. ”We’ll save the spot.”

She gives Martin a pointed look and some kind of silent communication seems to happen between them, ending with her looking victorious and Martin dropping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. Then he turns to Mickey and playfully gestures for him to lead the way.

”Sorry about her,” he says once they’ve reached the bar, leaning in closer to speak directly into Mickey’s ear. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. ”I keep telling her to back off, but she’s got it in her head that we’re doing something we’re not.”

Mickey swallows and turns his head to look at Martin when he leans back.

”And what are we doing?” he asks, and he doesn’t realize how it sounds until he sees Martin’s gobsmacked expression.

He lets out a startled laugh. ”Are we really gonna talk about this now? Here?”

And technically, Mickey agrees with him. He really doesn’t want to have the ’what are we’ conversation, and he definitely doesn’t want to have it now, here. But he’s already said it, and now he needs to know.

”Maybe,” he says and frowns when Martin just stares at him for a moment.

”I don’t know?” Martin eventually says. ”We have fun, right? I didn’t think you wanted it to be more than that?”

Mickey can barely hear his own thoughts over the noise from the bar, but he can practically feel his heartbeat in his throat. ”Do you?”

Martin makes a pained face, like it’s an involuntary reaction to the mere idea, before he shrugs helplessly and gives Mickey an uncertain smile.

”We don’t really have anything in common, Mickey,” he says. ”I don’t know, I just don’t see it going anywhere.”

”Thank you for participating,” the guy on stage says, his voice louder and verging on hysterical. It gives Mickey a reason to look away from Martin’s face for a second, hating the sympathetic twist to his lips. He feels like a fool.

”You suck!” someone yells in the audience.

”Yeah? Right back at you buddy!”

”Get off the stage!”

”Sure,” Mickey says, and nods. ”No, sure. You’re right.”

”Sorry?” Martin says and grins when Mickey rolls his eyes. ”And we can still have fun, right? Hey, I’ll buy you a drink! What do you want?”

”Anything, a beer,” Mickey tries to focus on Martin, on the list of prices pinned to the wall behind the bar, but there is suddenly too much noise, too many people, too much… stuff. ”I just gotta–”

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stops. He doesn’t know what he wants, but getting out of this room would be a good start.

Martin looks confused, and then tuts reproachfully when Mickey pulls out his pack of smokes and gestures in the direction of the doors. He hates it when Mickey smokes, always makes him brush his teeth before they do anything. Guess that’s another thing they don’t have in common. Mickey hadn’t given it much thought.

He leaves Martin by the bar to fend for the bartender’s attention on his own and goes back outside, ignoring the surprised look on the girl by the door when he strides past her. Once outside, he’d hoped the fresh air and relative silence would knock him back on track, but it doesn’t. Everything is exactly the same, only now he can add ’running away like a pussy’ to the list of tonight’s embarrassments. He hates this, this isn’t him.

He should go back inside, show Martin and his friends that he doesn’t give a shit. Have a couple of beers, get through the night, make that asshole suck his dick until he can’t feel anything but a warm mouth and his own pleasure. But he’s not repaying any favors, not tonight, let that shithead take care of himself, since he can’t see it going anywhere. Fuck that. It’s fine.

”I know–, no, I know…”

Wrapped up in his own bullshit, Mickey hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. The same man from before is still on the phone, and he looks if possible even more miserable than he did when Mickey first arrived.

”That isn’t–, no, I know you didn’t… listen–”

Mickey ignores him, taking out a cigarette putting it to his lips. Might as well, he’s already out here. He lights it up. He, lights it up… come the fuck on, he lights it up. His lighter is out. Fucking great.

”Ey,” he says and turns to the guy on the phone, ”you got a light?”

The guy stares at him, and Mickey absently thinks he looks even worse up close. Like, disturbingly hot and built enough to properly toss a guy around if he wanted, but absolutely worn down by whatever it is he’s doing with whoever’s on the phone with him. Whatever, not Mickey’s problem. He shakes his empty lighter when the guy doesn’t immediately react.

”Oh,” the guy blinks, his eyes are red. He digs out a lighter from somewhere and hands it over. ”Here.”

”Thanks,” Mickey steps close enough so he can reach out and take it, and consequently hear the distant sound of a man’s voice on the other end of the line. He can’t make out any words, but the tone is unmistakable. The guy frowns and turns away slightly.

”Jesus, Jace, what the fuck?” he says, voice low and sharp. ”Are you serious right now? I’m not–, you know what?”

Mickey lights up and takes a couple of steps away to give the guy some privacy, but might still watch him out of the corner of his eye and hear pretty much everything he says. Call him a nosy bitch, but he really needs the distraction right now.

”I can’t do this right now,” the guy sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ”We’re on in like ten minutes and I can’t–, I can’t do this with you right now. I asked you for time.”

He listens, and whatever it is that’s being said to him seems to hit a nerve. The general air around him of annoyed resolve slowly shifts into something more resigned.

”Yeah, I know… I’m sorry,” he says, and Mickey doesn’t know him or his situation, but he knows this can’t be right. ”Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. Yeah, thanks… I will. Love you, too.”

Mickey shouldn’t be listening to this, he should finish his cigarette and go back inside. Find Martin and enjoy the night, have some fucking fun. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home, put on some fucking comfortable clothes and watch a movie with his kid.

”Heads up,” he says and waits until the phone guy looks up before he lobs the lighter back at him. He fumbles, but catches it. ”Fuck him, you deserve better.”

The guy stares at him, and rightly so. Mickey doesn’t know why he said that, he doesn’t know anything about it. But the guy looks… he looks a bit like Mickey’s feeling, deep down and buried many times over.

He looks lost.

”You deserve better,” Mickey repeats, because he already said it and he’s nothing if not all in. The guy opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably thinking of ways to get away from the freak accosting him on the street with unsolicited affirmation bullshit. Which, fair enough. Guess that’s Mickey’s cue to fuck off. If the guy would just stop staring at him like that.

A hand-holding couple suddenly walks right through their intense moment, heading for the doors. Mickey comes back to himself and, thinking quick, he takes out his ticket and waves it at the couple to get their attention.

”No thanks,” the man said, probably thinking he’s trying to sell it.

”Just fucking take it,” Mickey grumbles, shoving the ticket at them.

”Uh, thanks?”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand at them, already on his way.

”Thank you!” someone shouts after him.

He can’t wait to get home. Kick off his shoes, wash out the gel in his hair. Untuck his fucking shirt. Investigate whatever that cake poking business was about, hopefully cake. Watch his kid watch a movie, see his little face light up and mouth along with the words. Absolutely ignore Sonya’s inevitable attempts to get him to ’talk about it’.

His life is fucking fine the way it is, he doesn’t know why he got it in his head to try and make it something it isn’t.

#hey friends #I've had some feelings this week #and will try to get as many of these prompts out #as a double thank you #to you and the show #it's not much #but I hope it's something #also i got a bit carried away with this one #loved the prompt #thank you!#Anonymous

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

Note

Do you think the polycule has any holiday traditions?

POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! YESSSSSSSSSS

that's actually a pretty interesting question because the polycule is very culturally diverse. like of course we have simon who's jewish, but the rest is kind of in a weird place. i'm pretty sure shadowhunters don't have holidays at all, and since clary was raised by a shadowhunter and a former shadowhunter, i'm pretty sure she would have been raised without any either? like maybe she'd celebrate the gregorian new year because you know, they have to pretend to be mundane after all, but i think that and birthdays were probably pretty much it for her. oh and halloween i guess which is also not religious-affiliated, are there any other holidays in the states? i guess there's the 4th of july and thanksgiving but both celebrate imperialism/colonialism and i don't want to write about that so i'm gonna pretend there aren't. plus i doubt shadowhunters celebrated those either

so ok we have izzy and clary with no holidays, we don't know whether or not maia is culturally christian and i don't wanna just say "yes" by default... and then there's meliorn whose holidays and traditions will be typical to seelie culture, which are gonna be... unique to them obviously. we don't know how they are celebrated, how long they last, what is the milestone, how or even IF they count time - like maybe they go by when a specific flower blooms and that only happens every 10 gregorian years or some shit. so that's a question mark i guess

and there's also the fact that the seelie realm is very politically closed which. i like to think changes once they get rid of the old queen! but it's still a slow process to just allow other people there. then again izzy was a shadowhunter and she used to hop by so it's probably not a huge deal for meliorn to bring their partners and metamours to seelie celebrations? or at least to the ones that aren't Super Sacred or anything. so like parties and dances and stuff like that? yeah. which i guess brings me back to the other "meta" i wrote about seelie dances (link) and what it would be like for the rest of the polycule to participate in those and shit

then... well obviously there's the gregorian new year which we have obviously just gone through (well, we had when i started answering this ask. it's march now so rip. update it's april now. i'm so sorry anon) so like! i think it was always kind of hell for both raphael and maia, autistic icons, because of all the explosion sounds that just made them feel really upset and feel really stupid for it. with raphael i think it was more bearable when he had rosa because she would spend the day with him and hug him and let him squeeze the stress out you know dauhdasuihda also she was always the one he felt the most comfortable stimming in front of. and then after he lost her it only got worse because on top of the fireworks there was the clear absence of rosa that he just FELT everywhere. you know?

and with maia there's the added trouble of her being AMAB and what with being raised to "black men" standarts of masculinity (to be clear, as in: due to racism black men are expected to be even more macho than white men, ESPECIALLY by nonblack ppl; not as in wow black ppl are so backwards or whatever. white ppl invented gender norms anyway so lmao), she was definitely shamed a lot for being so distressed by the fireworks when she was little methinks. we love that combination of transphobia, racism and ableism! so it was just hard and filled with bad memories. and then once she ran away from home it got marginally better without the constant telling her to "man up" and shit like that, but it still came with the added memories you know

and also with them (plus simon) being vampires/werewolves the hearing gets even more sensitive so that's... fun. meliorn realizes it stresses them out and makes up a special kind of spell that muffles their hearing of background noise, so they can feel more comfortable and for the first time there is not that added stress that comes with the new years and it feels so nice?? they even try watching the fireworks but it's kinda like eh, not that great, especially because even looking at them brings out memories you know doahdsaoh so instead meliorn shows them some magic and it's so much prettier with all the glowing lights and stuff, you know?

maybe after that the polycule starts spending the new years in the seelie realm instead, that'd be cute, just like. enjoying that pretty place with all the lights and shit. i think they would all prepare some kind of light show some way or another like using magic and witchlights and whatnot. that'd be cute

as for other holidays! i think their holiday traditions would start with simon's first yom kippur after he was able to eat solid foods again (shut up a potion WILL be created and i don't accept any other option). before that, with simon being unable to eat, he was also obviously unable to fast. he wouldn't feed during yom kippur but it's not like vampires need to drink blood every day so it's not really the same thing. and it felt particularly lonely that, besides being away from his family and community, he also couldn't fast

i mean obviously simon isn't the only jewish vampire in the world, or jewish downworlder for that matter, so i'm sure he makes jewish friends he would at least get together and pray with for yom kippur, and that's what matters the most, really, but being unable to fast when he wants to and also not being able to participate in the break-fast meal just. sucks djdnudhsus

and then he's able to eat and he can do all that again! but it's also kind of emotionally charged for all of the vampires to fast for the first time when for so long they associated not eating with feeling unhuman, you feel? so like it kind of hits all of them hard

so the polycule decides to make him a little surprise and cooks the break-fast meal for them. clary probably knows what simon and his family used to eat after yom kippur so they try to recreate that for him? and maia and raphael are lowkey nervous about it because they had never made stuff like noodle kugel before and while they could at least try it (yay potion!) they have no idea if it's tasting like it should, ya know what i mean? and it's kind of sweet that they are so worried about making this the best possible experience for simon and the closest to home it can get. and simon is super emotional about getting to eat that stuff for the first time, as well as the other vampires, so you know. it's very emotional all around. but in a good way? and i think after that it kind of becomes a tradition that they make him the break-fast meal after yom kippur too

and then the next years they lowkey fuss over him for the last meal before the fast too, which i'm not sure is something simon would do with other people so they would go ham, dude, particularly raphael because he is a worrier first and foremost. so catch his ass all lovingly planning a meal he can make with zero (0) salt whatsoever so simon doesn't get too thirsty during the fast for MONTHS, planning so he gets the most amount of sustenance, lots of fiber, etc., and simon is like "you know i don't even have to eat, right?" but rapha is just all "you know food still matters" and simon doesn't say anything because it does. it matters a lot

and raphael is all sweetly nervous because like... it is a simple meal, that is the point, but he still wants simon to enjoy it and simon can't stop smiling through the whole thing. raphael and the others also eat it with him too in solidarity before simon goes to the synagogue with his community and it's like a sweet send off you know?

also this is not exactly a celebration or a tradition for that matter but since YK is the day of forgiveness i like to think that eventually simon asks for raphael's forgiveness on YK for the whole rosa thing, and although that isn't religious for raphael, raphael asking for his forgiveness for how everything went down, too. and it's just a sweet moment where they leave this whole story behind and look for a better future - i imagine this happening before they get together, so again, it doesn't really count as an answer to your question, but i just thought i'd include it because i find it sweet

then after that there is sukkot and i just really loove the idea of them helping him build the sukkah (for those who don't know, the sukkah is a hut covered with vegetation under the open sky, where jewish ppl live in for the duration of the sukkot). i know that they could just buy a certified one but where is the fun in that when we could have shenanigans? also i think that that would have been part of simon's personal/family traditions because i bet him and becca loved to build the sukkah for their family. so like on that spirit it is a little sad that they can't help each other with that anymore since simon can't be seen by the rest of his family, but of course as soon as he mentions it and how fun it used to be the whole polycule is Immediately On Board. let's help simon build his sukkah!

first of all other than simon none of them have ever built a sukkah before and simon usually followed becca's lead tbh, also he's just not great to Lead And Control people in general, and the polycule is already messy as all fuck. so it's a disaster, especially with raphael and simon's superspeed and strength thrown into the mix, and meliorn's almost impossible to hold back mischievous nature. izzy is lowkey responsible for keeping them in check and okay now that i think about it clary might have helped simon's family build it before, especially when she was a kid because kids just love that shit, but i don't know if she would remember the steps tbh (read: she wouldn't remember the steps) so yeah all in all the sukkah falls down more often than not and they might have to replace a few materials when simon and raphael accidentally snap their bamboo poles in half. rip

meliorn is probably all like "you are all weak and pathetic, i am a seelie, i can literally control living things. simon needs a vegetable covering? watch me get all the nearby trees to form a beautiful roof" and simon is like "actually the sechach cannot be alive" and meliorn slowly dies because they have no power over dead nature. also simon forbids magic usage in general because this needs to be an authentic building experience for him, so meliorn is left as the most useless one since they only have experience building these things using magic and the help of the trees or whatever

also i bet they would love to go EXTREMELY hard on the lights and decorations. i know that hassidic and to my understanding general orthodox jewish communities don't decorate the sukkah but i don't hc simon as part of those communities so i think he would want to decorate the sukkah. like even if it isn't fully covered in decorations, he would want what few he has to be well done, you know what i mean? like he would want to make the holiday posters himself (i dont know if it would be appropriate for clary to help make these but if it would, she totally would and i like the idea of simon giving her a very specific prompt to make the posters and clary doing it for him, you know? and maybe them all helping paint it with colorful themes), making decorations, and okay, at the very least fairy lightning? please? come on. it's another whole ass dramatic experience to get electricity in there so that's fun for sure, but i think meliorn and maia in particular would be all over the idea of making a pretty lightning system, and simon is definitely not gonna complain because he loves pretty things and the idea sounds rad. raphael smiles fondly through it all and basically saves the day by being the only one with organizational skills who is actually able to help them make a working plan for the sukkah

(catch these idiots making a blueprint. TRY and tell me they wouldn't)

(every year they make a new blueprint and the sukkah has different designs and proportions - always following the requirements like having four at least 32 inches tall walls, of course - and they start completely anew. the sechach must always be new but not the general structure, but they redo the structure anyway because again, it's fun)

and then of course they have meals together in the sukkah for the duration of sukkot and just idk i really dig the idea of the lot of them holding trays of food wearing oven mitts as they get inside and turn on the lights and it feels really nice and sweet you know? and then of course promptly turns kind of messy because it's their way but that's what they want. also, at least once a year they manage to sneak becca in for a meal with simon in the sukkah and they are just both so happy and aaaaa :')

and that's how "kidnapping" becca so she can see simon and his sukkah becomes another tradition lmao. they do it in the most dramatic full of flair way they possibly can while still not being found out and then promptly tell simon all about it in the most dramatic and exaggerated retelling during the meal, which always makes both simon and becca laugh (reality: becca just told her parents she would be off for a few hours to do some school thing or something and then they picked her up and she got a superspeed piggyback ride so she and simon wouldn't miss a minute. their story: "it all began with a carefully planted lie,")

there's also pesach which many (reform) jewish friends of mine have told me they like to do with goyim because the whole point of that holiday is to welcome strangers and share jewish history, so i think simon would like to do that as well. so yeah i think simon would enjoy having them with him during the Pesach Seder - again i think simon would want to be with his other jewish friends but it would be fun because they all could bring their pet goyim that they know would be respectful and nice to have around, run the Seder, and celebrate with them. also for their first one i think simon would have gotten excited about explaining the order/15 steps to them, so like cue lots of fond looks as simon tells them everything about it, how this is the first time he'll be able to have the feast, the four cups of wine, and how he's excited even to have the bitter herbs again. and then over the years they all become pretty much used to the 15 steps, they come naturally, they know what to expect, they already know the story of the Exodus after retelling it every year, and it's nice both when it's new and he gets to share and when it starts to be something in their element because it became their tradition and they want to be there with simon for the holidays, you know what i mean?

then there's purim!!!!!!!! god they would sure have so much fun on purim it gets me really excited to think about. purim might be the one that they get to participate the most in from what i've seen, and i have lots of thoughts about it, like:

first of all, making hamantaschen!! they each make a batch with a different stuffing and it's lowkey a competition and lowkey a surprise and as always with cooking together it is very fun and homey. and also kind of silly as they usually are, but purim is a holiday that is kind of supposed to be silly and for ppl to let go so it matches that mood, you know what i mean? like they're all covered in flour and "stop trying to LOOK at what i'm making!" and blind testing and stuff

then, food gifts! so from what i've seen it is preferable that the food gifts jewish ppl send each other on purim are sent by a third party, which is usually a kid, but they don't know many kids and i really like the idea of the polycule serving as simon's messengers for the day lmao. going everywhere round the shadow world and beyond ("hey mel since you can portal i have this friend in argentina-") and then bringing him the other gifts people send simon in return :)

dressing up in costumes! there is absolutely no way simon doesn't dress up for purim and the whole polycule is absolutely dragged into it, including an absolutely reluctant raphael. it quickly becomes a tradition tho that they change costumes every year and try to make them funnier and more outrageous (as you do) as time goes by. trust the polycule to turn pretty much everything into a competition. and simon always laughs with so much glee and joy when he gets to see what everyone dresses up as so really, how could they say no?

(maia "wins", like, every year. she is totally huge on costumes and her and simon are very attuned in that sense, so, you know. catch her dressing up as memes and just generally making the most creative costumes. she may or may not think them months and months ahead of time)

maybe they hold purim meals with particularly themed costumes every once in a while when they want to spice it up, but i think generally it's more of a freestyle thing

simon also loves reading the purim torah tbh, it's just fun. and then of course there's the megillah and booing when haman's name is mentioned. they are all banned from using graggers because half of them have superstrength and the other half doesn't technically have superstrength but is still super strong and they destroyed the poor thing on accident after the first ten seconds when they tried

food yay! and the very long meal. they usually get pretty drunk, tbh, at least the ones that can. and just generally i think it's one of their favorite celebrations to do together and more often than not ends in them all curled up together in the couch so u know, that's sweet uwu

and then of course rosh hashanah, which is the holiest joyous day in jewish tradition, so of course it's a huge deal for them all. and i just think they would all be super excited about making the evening (especially the meal ofc) the most incredible for simon it could possibly be. again i think simon would want to spend it with his downworlder jewish friends and community, and they probably have their own synagogue they go to together and everything, so obviously they are all involved in making preparations for rosh hashanah, but i like to think the polcyule and simon's friends' pet goyim would help with what they can as well (provided it's not something that should be done by a jewish person like baking the challah; but if not with cooking, they would at least want to help with stuff like decorations and the like. honestly i imagine all of simon's partners sitting together very seriously with a paper in front of them writing down all the stuff they can do to help with rosh hashanah preparations and everything. especially once they learn that like being happy/joyous is a mitzvah so they're just like "we want to make u as happy as possible then :)" and it's sweet and simon may or may not tear up a little)

and then we have other holidays that aren't associated with religion like halloween, which was kind of implied to be the official downworld holiday, so i'm pretty sure they go big on that too. not dressing up because again, one day where they can all afford to be themselves, but definitely meeting up at the hunter's moon, getting spectacularly drunk, roasting the mundane's costumes, and then once they get back to whichever of them's homes, watching some shitty movies and throwing stuff at the screen together

i'm on the fence about día de muertos. i know it's not exactly a sad holiday but i feel like it is for raphael because it kind of represents everything he's lost - his culture and his family, and he can't even go to the parade during the day, you know, although i'm not sure that would have been his thing, but i do think he would have loved to watch the arrival of the monarchs when he was a kid but he'd have to be in méxico for that. and particularly after he lost rosa i just feel like it would have been so emotionally charged for him, you know? he would definitely make her an altar every year and it would be just... big and well thought-out and something really emotional and important for him, welcoming his little sister back the best he can. and i feel like that's something he'd want to do alone because my boy loves to punish himself

but there are little things i think they would have wanted to do with him, and that they might push a little to be able to, like being with him while he eats by the altar and hearing him tell stories about rosita. and i think they would help him "undo" (?) the altar once día de muertos is over, which is always extra emotional for him and aaa. and then the next day they kind of just get to be with him and cuddle a little bit as he recovers emotionally, you know?

also it has just occured to me that raphael is christian shit fuck fart bitch cock. so okay i guess that puts xmas and easter somewhat on the map? again mostly for food. us latinos celebrate xmas on the eve, not on xmas day, and raphael is totally the insufferable xmas meal obsessed bitch who's on the kitchen all day and refuses to let anyone help (he can't pull that particular stunt for the meals they have for simon's holidays obviously but he can on xmas soo). but it's worth it because it is always a great one. and he also gives a lot of thought into getting everyone presents so that is sweet and it earns him lots of kisses on the cheek and stuff. and that's pretty much it for latino xmas, we don't really do stuff i'm still not convinced gringos haven't made up like the socks and the eggnog and xmas music (????) so it's more lowkey. and i think raphael would keep the more religious aspects of it to the stuff he does at church (again, there are downworlder religious communities idk what to tell u) and for the nursery home. which is not to say that like... oh wow xmas is totally not a xtian holiday! or whatever, just that the version the polycule does is more lowkey on the religious aspects and the things they do together on that day are more about being together with raphael on a day that matters to him, you know, especially since again, he is the only xtian and that's gonna be a sensitive thing for simon especially

and i think for easter it is mostly something they do to shower maia in sweets lmao. again she misses chocolate and i'm sure they spend a lot of their time trying to figure out how to get around that, either be by like trying to make special chocolate that doesn't make her sick or sweets that really really resemble chocolate or that are so good she doesn't even mind that she can't eat chocolate anymore. so that's their tradition for easter (and raphael goes to church ofc)

oh yeah and i forgot valentine's day! i have this funny little idea just for the shits where they have this little thing where they setup one-on-one dates for all the parts that are actually together and each of them lasts, like, 10 minutes (poor maia who dates everyone is just running around town) and it's more about the fun of running around from one day to the other like this is a bad romcom where some bastard is trying to juggle having two (monog) girlfriends at once. but then they actually get all together at the end of the day and trade presents and funny cards both among their dates and metamours ("roses are red, violets are blue, you're my girlfriend's girlfriend, and i love you platonically"). usually ending up with them drunk and debating how exactly they got to this overly complicated arrangement and trying to figure out the best way to explain this to an outsider and trying to make, like, fluxograms that explain all of their different relationships visually and they all look so messy it just leaves them more confused lmao. so yeah it's fun

and i think that's all i've got? i say, as if this answer isn't longer than anyone will have the time to read and took me over 4 months to write. but anyway

a special thanks to "a group where non-jews can ask questions about judaism and jews can answer" on facebook and all my jewish friends for helping me write about the jewish holidays and customs. i also used the following sources: Rosh Hashanah (link), how to build the sukkah (link), more on the sukkah (link), how to celebrate purim (link), more on purim (link), how to celebrate passover (link), what is a passover seder like (link), laws of yom tov (link), yom kippur (link), what to eat before and after yom kippur (link), a classic yom kippur breakfast menu (link), menus for the pre yom kippur meal (link). if there's anything inaccurate or disrespectful, however, please let me know, and feel free to add more ideas as well if you're jewish :)

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