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liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

Just Breathe

Tom Holland x Female!Osterfield!Bisexual!Reader

Summary: Childbirth waits for no one, not even the Oscars.

Warnings: fluuuuuff, pregnant reader, mentions of childbirth, good press articles, BISEXUAL READER WOOOHOOO

Word Count: 1.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes

A/N: heeeeey look @peterspideyy @parkersbliss that crazy idea i ranted to you about like six months ago finally got done! i can’t believe i did it... this feels too good to be true, is the world gonna end or something?

Masterlist

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Me neither."

"Please, just stay here."

You looked up to your brother and husband, frowning as you smoothed your hand over the soft black fabric of your gown.

"I am not missing the Oscars, Tom. I've still got two weeks until I'm due, it'll be fine."

You sat down on the bed and looked dejectedly at your shoes, then proceeded to throw puppy dog eyes your brother's way until Harrison had no choice but to kneel and help you put on your comfortable trainers. There's no way you're putting on your heels at 37 weeks of pregnancy.

"But what if Baby decides to come sooner? You could go into labour at any moment!"

You rolled your eyes and only raised your arms so they could help you out of bed.

"You guys are being over-dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen. We're just going to the Oscars, we'll have a good time, and hopefully, I'll leave with a little statue under my arm."

With that, you waddled out of your hotel room, ready to get into the limo.

---

"(Y/n)! It's so good to see you! You look radiant as always!"

You smiled at Kaitlyn, an interviewer you knew and trusted and rubbed your belly comfortingly.

"Thank you, I feel like a whale, but Baby'll be here soon so it's worth it."

She smiled and asked you a bunch of questions about your movie and how you were feeling about being nominated for Best Actress.

"But anyway, how far along are you now?"

"I'm a little over 37 weeks, they should be coming soon. Tom and Haz were actually really apprehensive about me coming here since I'm so close to my due date."

She smiled and looked over at the two men, obviously on edge.

"Well, I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you win."

You hugged her goodbye and posed for a few more pictures before being led inside by your husband.

---

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Brie Larson, last year's winner, got ready to announce who would take home the trophy.

"This year's winner, and taking home the Oscar for best actress in a leading role..."

Tom took your hand and you squeezed it tight, ready to applaud one of the other amazing actresses on their win.

"(Y/n) Holland, for her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin!"

You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest, run to that stage, kiss Brie, then promptly burst to flames out of sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Tom was hugging you and whispering how much you deserved it while your brother gently guided you to the podium. None of them would ever allow you to go up there on your own. Always one in front of you in case you trip forward and one behind you to catch you if you fall back.

Overprotective much?

As soon as you reached Brie, you hugged her tight (or as tight as you could with a human baby house separating you), taking the award while the two boys hugged her too.

"Holy Louis Tomlinson in a crop top."

The audience laughed, most of them already familiar with your strange One Direction inspired expressions.

"Wow, I didn't actually think I was gonna win this, everyone had such amazing performances. I-It's an honour, really. Two Sides of the Same Coin was a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'd like to thank the amazing Drew Barrymore, who wrote and directed the movie."

The room erupted in cheers and the woman smiled at you from her place on the front row.

"Bisexual representation is something we don't get very often, and when we do, it's always misjudged. So thank you for showing the world what bisexuality really is, and for giving me a chance to live out my dreams of kissing lots of people. This idiot tied me down too soon."

You pointed behind you at Tom, hearing his appalled squeak along with Harrison's guffaw of a laugh.

In other news, the baby was starting to inconvenience you slightly. Baby had been going crazy since last night (not that you'd tell the boys) and the Braxton-Hicks were killing you, but it only got worse now.

"I'd also like to thank my amazing costars, Zendaya, Bella Thorne, and Owen Patrick Joyner, it was awesome to make out with you all..."

The crowd laughed while you felt something trickle down your legs.

Oh.

OH.

You'll never live this down, that's for sure.

"Uh, before I finish can one of you idiots call the car and get them to come to the exit please and thank you? Now as I was saying-"

"Wait, why?"

You turned to your brother and smiled innocently.

"Oh, my water just broke."

The crowd cheered.

Tom screamed.

Harrison fell to the floor, unconscious.

You sighed.

"New plan, can anyone try to wake my brother while my hus-"

You looked at Tom, frantically doing small back and forths between you and his best friend, unsure of what to do.

"-While someone else calls the car because both of them are apparently useless."

"We need to get you to the hospital!"

His terrified scream could be heard all through the room, even with no mic.

"What? No! I need to finish my acceptance speech, then go back to the hotel to shower and maybe take a little nap and then go to the hospital. My water just broke, Thomas, we have time, calm your tits."

You turned back fully to the mic, facing the hysteric faces of the crowd, very entertained by the exchange.

"Now as I was saying, I want to thank the amazing team that worked on this movie, you're all amazing and it was such a good experience. I'd also like to thank my family for always being there for me and supporting me and Haz in our acting careers. Thank you to my brother, even if he's unconscious right now, he'll just watch it on Youtube later, for literally forcing me to go to the audition. And lastly, I'd like to thank my wonderful husband, who hopefully hasn't passed out yet, for always supporting me and being my biggest rock through everything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff."

---

An Oscar in hand and another... down her legs?

(Y/n) Holland sure gave the Oscars something to be entertained by on this last Saturday. The wife of fellow actor Tom Holland looked radiant in her custom-made Valentino dress, looking ready for a night of fun.

(Y/n) was nominated for this year's Best Actress in a Leading Role award, alongside Meryl Streep, Margot Robbie, Cate Blanchett, and Tessa Thompson, but the Oscar went to her from her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin. But it was during her acceptance speech that things got... slippery.

At 37 weeks of pregnancy, the Holland baby was ready to come at any minute, but apparently, theatrics run in the family. The actress was in the middle of her speech when she felt her water break, pausing in her talking to request a car be called.

You'd think her husband, Tom, and brother Harrison Osterfield, overprotective as they are, would be fully prepared! Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for our entertainment, they were not. Harrison went unconscious after hearing the news, dropping to the floor and earning himself a minor concussion, much to his sister's amusement

[image1-harrison-ice-pack.png]

@ynholland: "Don't worry, when you go into labour, I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Harrison Osterfield, then proceeded to pass out, get a minor concussion, and miss the whole delivery.😂 Good job, little bro👍

And just when you thought she couldn't get any better, she finishes her acceptance speech with: "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff." We have no choice but to stan this iconic queen!

But for the news you've all been waiting for, Oscar Robert Holland (yes, the middle name is a homage to Robert Downey Jr. himself, we're not crying, you are!) was born just twelve hours later. Tom let know through a beautiful Instagram picture that he is in fact "perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already".

[image2-tom-and-oscar.png]

@tomholland2013: I present to you, my best creation to this date: Oscar Robert Holland. Thank you all for your prayers and kind messages, our boy is perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already❤️

But of course, Uncle Haz wouldn't stay behind.

[image3-haz-and-oscar.png]

@hazosterfield: Since I know you've all been worried sick and desperate to know how the baby is... I'm doing just fine, it's just a minor concussion :) Oh and my godson's great too.

And just to prove that the Osterfields are indeed the royal family of comedy, we leave with this wonderful picture posted to the happy mum's very own Instagram.

[image4-yn-and-oscars.png]

@ynholland: Guess I was so good they gave two Oscars instead of one ;)

-Written by Kaitlyn Storm

so anyway, Two Sides of the Same Coin is a movie idea i got a while ago and should maybe try to write one of these days but oh well or something. anyway, i’m not gonna rant about it here cause it’d be too long but i hope you enjoyed this and don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it!

-Love, Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@adriannajackson123 @theamazingtomholland @inlovewithmobtom @andycanbeemotional @officiallyunofficialperson @lost-in-the-stars03 @jeezkiddo @a-singleboat @wunder-13 @highlydisfunctional1 @ellyseveronica @inthecornerchair @harishaanne @anjalika03 @lozzypoz321 @mendes-marvel @sovereignparker @bubbles-the-powerpuffgurl

MARVEL ACTORS

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @frustratingpaperclip @tacobacoyeet

HOLLAND & CO.

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @zeusmyster @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @joyleenl @quaksonhehe @clara-licht @frustratingpaperclip @tutuabby28 @tacobacoyeet

LGBTQ+

@quaksonhehe

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

But with you, it’s different...

So, I’ve combined two of my great obsessions: Criminal Minds and Taylor Swift. Pretend the reader is Taylor Swift in the sense that she wrote and recorded the songs, but that’s it. Also, the songs are all out of order and not from the albums so just pretend that’s okay. I don’t reference the albums, but individual songs and yeah. It’s honestly kind of a mess, but also makes me happy. This is part 1! I have most of it written, so I should be able to post the other parts pretty soon. I think there will be 3 actual parts and then a short epilogue! Last thing, Spencer is a little out of character. I (try to) explain that later!!

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader

Word Count: 7940

You weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen tonight. It was just the usual Saturday night. Honestly, you were looking forward to having a boring two weeks off. You absolutely loved touring and performing and seeing your fans, but it was going to be great to have some time just to write again. Writing music has always helped you de-stress and get your emotions out, and you were supposed to finally have a chance to do just that. However, the universe had different plans. Plans that involved the FBI.

This was your second night in DC. It was the first of some of the bigger cities on your tour where you were doing two shows, so you are even more exhausted than normal. You really only just started the US leg of your tour, but the two weeks off was well earned from the Europe, Asia, and South America legs.

As you begin to perform the second to last song, you start to feel the familiar sadness you get when finishing a show. It’s almost as though the adrenaline rush from the excitement of so many screaming fans is wearing off and you can’t help but feel a bit sorry that the fun is coming to an end. After so many performances though, you’ve learned how to hide the emotions and give the audience your best fake smile. The last song is where you have some real fun, so just make it there.

As you duck off stage to change for the final performance, you can’t help but notice the small group of people conversing, quite tensely, with your security team. They don’t look like the normal fans who would try to sneak backstage, too official. You make eye contact with one of them. He looks to be about your age, but you’ve never been great at guessing. There’s something about him that makes you want to find out exactly who he is right now, but you can’t.

You’re left wondering about his identity as you run back onstage for the grand finale. You feel a genuine smile appearing as you feel the heat from the fireworks and listen to the happy cheers from the crowd. You’re last song goes off without a hitch, but you’re exhausted. There’s nothing you want more than to just shower and sleep, but there’s always a buzz about the cast and crew that prevents anyone from leaving right away.

“Thank you for a great second night DC! Goodnight!” You shout into the mic as you duck back offstage to ride out the post show high. You are still chatting with some of the dancers you’ve become friends with when Carrie, the head of security, comes up with one of the men you saw arguing with her earlier.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you for a minute?” You turn, surprised to see the stern man standing behind Carrie. “Yeah, sure.” You turn to excuse yourself from the dancers, wishing them a goodnight before turning back to Carrie.

“We can go do your dressing room, that’s where the others are waiting.” Carrie says with a nervous smile on her face.

“The others?” You ask confused, jogging to keep up with the brisk pace she has set for you and the stern man. “Who are we talking to?”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We will explain everything as soon as we meet up with the rest of the team.” The stern man spoke quietly, but with confidence as he followed behind you and Carrie. Before you could ask anything else, you were being ushered into your dressing room, coming face to face with the other two people you saw arguing with Carrie earlier. The first one you notice is a woman with jet black hair and fierce eyes. The other is the tall, lanky man you made eye contact with.

You’re a little excited to get a closer look. He looks a little awkward at first glance, but you can tell he’s a sneaky sort of attractive underneath the perfectly placed tie and the comfy cardigan. Before you can get too caught up in how good looking these three strangers are, you turn to the stern one and ask “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Your tone clearly indicates the confusion you’re feeling.

“Ms. L/N, my name is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I am the Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.” You can feel your eyes go wide as he shows you a badge with his picture and title. Before you can respond, he begins talking again. “These are SSAs Emily Prentiss” the woman gives you a reassuring smile and slight wave, “and Dr. Spencer Reid.” The sneakily attractive one nods his head in your general direction.

The woman just introduced as Emily chimes in “we are here because we believe there is a killer targeting fans of your music. We have been tracking murders for the past two weekends. The first was in Louisville, Kentucky, then Columbus, Ohio, and then two right here in D.C.”

“I was just in Louisville… and Columbus.” You feel yourself beginning to get dizzy as you try to comprehend what the agents are telling you.

“Yes, and now you’re in DC.” The boss man is talking again. “We made the connection this afternoon as you had two shows here in DC.” The room is starting to spin as you listen to the man talk. “After more digging, we found each victim had purchased a ticket to your show. Additionally, they all had social media accounts dedicated as fan pages to you.” Agent Hotchner continues speaking as you nod along, trying to comprehend how this was happening. You don’t even realize you are tuning him out as you begin to sway on your feet. You can see his mouth moving, and the growing look of concern on his face is the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

You can hear a faint beeping as you begin to wake up. For a moment, you are blissfully unaware of the murders before the memory of meeting the three agents comes back to you. You instantly sit up and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You can see a very muscular bald man through a window, talking to someone in scrubs.

Scrubs. A nurse. You are in the hospital.

Your heart rate begins to calm down before skyrocketing again when you hear “Ms. L/N?” from the other side of the room. Turning with wide eyes and a scared expression, you throw your arms up to defend yourself from the unknown voice.

“Sorry! Sorry, uh- I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” Instantly you relax again at the familiar face. You drop your arms back to the bed, shifting into a more comfortable position before asking “Okay, Doctor. What’s wrong with me? Why am I in the hospital?”

He looks at you with a sheepish expression, rubbing the back of his neck before he admits, “Oh, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’ll go get a nurse or someone. Try to think back on what you remember before waking up here.” He shuffles out of the room as you try to replay the conversation with the other agents.

Well, it wasn’t much of a conversation with them doing all of the talking, but still. The unknown man from outside your room window and the nurse he was talking to come into the room with Dr. Reid. The nurse begins checking your vitals as she asks you some questions.

“Hi there. It’s good to see you up. How are you feeling?” She wears a small smile.

“Oh, um, I feel fine. I think. I’m just confused about how I ended up here. I remember talking to the agents at the arena, but that’s it.” You close your eyes as you try to remember more, but nothing comes to you.

“That was only about 45 minutes ago, dear.” The nurse’s kind voice helps settle you. “You fainted while the agents were talking to you. They brought you here. You should be good to leave in a few minutes as long as your vitals are good.”

“Thank you.” You return her kind smile as she marks information on your chart before leaving the room.

“Ms. L/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan.” The Doctor Agent is talking again.

“Please, call me Y/N.” You rub your head, continuing to try to remember more about your condition. Before either man in the room can speak up, a new thought occurs to you. “If I fainted, why doesn’t my head hurt? The floor in my dressing room is not soft.” You look between the two men for an explanation.

The doctor shifts his weight from foot to foot a blush appearing on his face as Agent Morgan speaks up. “That is because Pretty Boy over here” he claps a hand onto the doctor’s shoulder “caught you before you hit the ground.” “Oh, um… Thank you.” You can feel the blush beginning to form as you think about his arms being around you.

“It was no problem, really. Can we ask you a few questions?” He moves on quickly. “Oh sure thing Dr. Reid. Or Agent Reid. Agent Dr. Reid?” You can feel the blush growing as you ramble.

“Just Sp-Spencer is fine.” He cuts you off before you can continue suggesting different honorifics. “What do you remember from what Agent Hotchner was telling you?”

“He said someone was mur-murdering fans of me.” Tears spring to your eyes as you think about it. “That someone was killed in Kentucky and Ohio and then two people here in DC.” You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

Get a hold of yourself.

You feel a new weight on your hand before hearing Spencer begin talking again. “Take your time.” You open your eyes to see him patting your hand delicately. He moves back after you take a few deep, calming breaths.

“I’m sorry. I just feel awful knowing people are dy-dying because of me. Is there anything I can do to help?” You choke on the words a bit, realizing the full gravity of the situation.

“Do you recognize any of these people?” Agent Morgan pulls out photos of three women and one man, handing them to you to sift through. He seems to be staring at Spencer, but you just focus on the pictures. You can feel the tears building again as you realize who they are.

“I do.” You take another breath before continuing. “I haven’t met them before, but they are all really active on different social sites. I try to talk to as many fans as I can ya know? They are why I am where I am. Is that why they were killed? Oh god. No no no no.” Your breathe increases in speed as you think about everything that is happening.

“Hey, hey, hey, none of this is your fault.” Spencer is patting your hand again as he tries to calm you down. Just then, the nurse comes back with some paperwork for you to sign in order to leave.

“You are free to go Ms. L/N. Just sign these forms and hand them in at the desk on your way out.” She exits the room swiftly.

“Would you mind coming back to our office to finish talking?” Agent Morgan asks.

“Of course not. Anything I can do to help.” You turn in the forms before following them to a black SUV. Spencer opens the door for you to get in the back before he slides in next to you. You don’t even have the brain power to consider why he isn’t sitting in the front. You just grab his hand and squeeze it, unable to get the thoughts out of your head that this was all your fault.

“This is not your fault. You had no idea what was happening, and now that you do you are trying to help.” Spencer looks at you reassuringly as he squeezes your hand right back. You simply nod back. You don’t trust yourself to speak without crying. You just need to calm down before you get to the office.

About 15 minutes later you pull up to the FBI building that houses the BAU. They must’ve brought you to a hospital near Quantico. They lead you through security up to the fifth floor. You walk through a set of glass doors, passing a few desks before entering a conference room. “Do you need anything? Coffee, water?” Spencer asks as Agent Morgan leaves the room.

“Oh, um, no I’m okay for now.” You stare at your hands as you go to sit down. “Actually, could I get a jacket or something?” You gesture to what you’re wearing as you ask. You haven’t had a chance to change yet, meaning you are wearing a black, sequined romper that is basically a leotard with how short it is. Perfect for performing, but not exactly FBI attire. “Of co-course! I’ll be right back.” He practically runs out of the room.

A few minutes later, he pushes the door back open. “Here’s some clothes you can change into if you want. Or just a sweatshirt.” You look up from your position in the chair, rising to take the clothes.

“Thank you.” You look from the clothes to him realizing you need to change, but are in a room full of windows in an unfamiliar building.

He catches on a few seconds later, leading you out of the room. “The bathroom is this way!” He squeaks out as you both walk down a hallway outside the glass doors you came in. “I’ll wait here to show you back.” You smile as you brush past him, whispering thank you as you close the door.

You instantly take off the romper, sliding on some FBI sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that smells like vanilla and new books. The scent is oddly comforting. You would think a standard FBI sweatshirt would smell new, but this scent is calming your nerves. You fix your makeup as best you can before heading out of the bathroom. Spencer is a few feet away talking to a beautiful blonde woman. She looks effortlessly gorgeous. She smiles as she notices you, waving you to join them.

“Ms. L/N, it’s lovely to meet you, although I do wish it was under better circumstances. I am SSA Jennifer Jureau, but you can call me JJ. The rest of the team is waiting for us to join them.” She smiles kindly, but you are frozen in place. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

Spencer grabs your arm lightly, pulling you out of your trance. “It’s okay. Just breathe.” He whispers as the three of you start walking back toward the conference room you were in earlier.

He lets your arm fall back to your side before guiding you back into the room behind JJ. You freeze again upon entering the room. You recognize Agents Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan, but are surprised by the other two faces. There is an older man with salt and pepper hair smiling kindly at you. He reminds you of your father. Then there is a very bubbly blonde, in a very colorful dress and matching glasses.

They introduce themselves as SSA David Rossi and technical analyst Penelope Garcia. The unit chief begins to describe the case again, going slower this time given your earlier episode. “We believe the unsub is targeting fans of yours who he believes is unworthy of your attention. He worships you and views his victims as people who are not devoted enough to you.”

You can’t decide how to respond, so you wait for another agent to continue. “Do you know of anyone who might be overly obsessed with you? Maybe they sent you letters that were a bit more personal than normal?” At this point, you decide you are done being controlled by this situation. What happened to those people is awful, but you can’t change it. You need to be strong to help prevent it from happening to anyone else.

“I haven’t finished my fan letters from this week yet. I try to go through as many as possible, but there is only so much time in a day.” At this point you are pacing. Walking around has always helped you with thinking things over. “There is one letter that sticks out from three weeks ago. That was before the murd-” you stutter on the word. “Before anything happened though. Could that be relevant?” You ask, looking hopeful. If the agents are surprised by your change of attitude they don’t mention it.

“It might be. What did it say?” Agent Hotchner asks, the same stern expression adorning his features.

“I don’t remember all of it, but it looked like it was written on a typewriter, so it stood out. It said something about how they wondered if my hair smelled like peaches after I finished a show. I thought it was weird because my shampoo is peach scented, but how could they possibly know that? I figured I must have met them in passing, you know. I meet a lot of fans just walking around the different cities. Something just felt weird about this letter though. Like a bad feeling. I mean, my hair doesn’t really retain the scent of my shampoo all that much. So how could he know that unless he knew what shampoo I use? But actually, I use a personalized shampoo so I can change the scent every time I but it- it must’ve been a lucky guess, right? Maybe I just look like I would use peach scented shampoo” You feel like you are talking a mile a minute, but you can’t get yourself to stop. You practically fall back into your chair as you finish rambling about the letter, looking up to see unmistakable expressions of concern on the agents’ faces.

“What? What does that mean? Oh god- How does he know my shampoo smells like peaches?” You look between all the agents as they seem to be communicating with just their eyes. You resort to taking calming breaths again. They’ll fill you in eventually, you need to breathe. You drop your head between your thighs as you push your chair away from the table. Breathe in for 7 seconds, hold for 7, and breathe out for 7. This always helps calm you down before a show.

You choose to ignore the agents quietly talking to each other again as you focus on slowing your heart rate back to a normal pace.

“Ms. L/N?” You look up exasperatedly, “Please, just call me Y/N.”

“Then you can call me Penelope!” The woman has such a kindness to her that you can’t help but smile back at her.

“What can I do for you Penelope?” She seems a bit surprised, but she responds in kind.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted some coffee. Or water or anything?” You smile at her kind gesture, rising from your seat.

“Actually, some tea would be wonderful. But, please, let me come help you. These guys seem like they need to talk and it would probably be easier if I wasn’t in the room.” You smile as you walk out the door, leaving the agents slightly stunned at your observational skills in your distressed state.

Penelope follows you out and leads you to what you assume is the break room. “We don’t really have much tea, but I know where the good doctor keeps his private collection.” She whispers conspiratorially as she searches through a small cabinet. “Aha! Here it is.” She presents you with a pretty impressive collection of teas. You opt for the simple peppermint. You have always found peppermint tea the most soothing.

She hands you a mug before gesturing to the Keurig on the counter. You place the teabag in the cup, selecting the largest cup on the machine, and brewing hot water for your tea. The two of you don’t say anything while it steeps. Penelope speaks up when you move to sit down at the small table.

“I just have to say, I am a huge fan of yours.” You can’t hide the smile that forms on your face. You have always loved meeting fans. They are just so sweet and you appreciate them beyond belief.

“Thank you so much!” She seems a bit relieved at your response. “That’s honestly so nice to hear right now. I kind of feel like a mess.” You gesture to the oversized clothes you’ve got on.

“Please, you look so gorgeous right now. It’s amazing. Your music is amazing too. I absolutely love Begin Again! It’s so romantic!” She gushes over the song.

“Honestly, that one took me forever to write. I was in a pretty bad place after a bad breakup, convinced I would never love again. Dramatic, I know.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “But then I saw these two people in a café, and they just looked so happy. The idea of a new love forming so casually right in front of me was beautiful.” You smile thinking about the couple, wondering if they are still together.

“Wow, so you can really right about anything?” She looks while asking the question.

“Pretty much. I mean, they won’t all be good. It could be the tiniest moment or a huge thing in my life. Inspiration comes from everywhere. A lot of songs actually draw from multiple experiences, not just one thing. I could totally see myself writing a song about you.”

“No way! That would be insane.” You smile at her enthusiasm.

“I’m serious! You just give of this energy that is so positive, it’s hard to remember ever being sad. I think it would be about how confident you are. Something like…” you trail off as you begin to hum, setting up your phone to record. “You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me!” You hum a few more bars before ending the recording.

“That was insane. How do you do that?!” She has a wild kind of excitement in her eyes.

“I don’t know. You just inspired me.” You grin at the shocked expression in her eyes.

“Sing it again!” And you can’t help but give her what she wants.

You hum a bit more of a melody that could work before jumping into the words you already said. You add a few more here and there, but nothing concrete. In your focus on singing, you don’t hear the door open behind you.

“I’m the only one of me, baby that’s the fun of me. Oh oh oh. You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” “I don’t doubt it.” You turn in shock to look at the person behind you, seeing none other than Spencer Reid in the doorway. You don’t notice the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks that you heard his comment, just like he doesn’t notice the matching expression on your face. Penelope though, she notices. And, she can’t wait to tell Derek.

Spencer clears his throat before speaking again. “We’re ready for you to come back in if you’re up for it. We want to talk to you about a plan to keep you safe.”

“Sure thing.” You grab your tea from the table before you and Penelope follow Spencer back to the conference room. You sitting cross-legged in your seat. You feel much calmer after chatting with Penelope. Song writing has always been cathartic for you, and it is reassuring that hasn’t changed.

The agents waste no time getting down to business. “We believe the unsub has broken into your tour bus. If the letter was from him, it would explain how he knows about the peach scent.” Agent Rossi starts.

Agent Morgan continues, “It’s an easier target than a hotel room or your personal home since fewer people would be securing it.” You nod along with them. You are determined to stay strong through this.

“We want to completely ensure your safety, so we think it best to send an agent to stay with you while we work on the case.” Agent Prentiss chimes in. You feel like you’re going to get whiplash looking between all their faces.

“Since we haven’t ruled out people on the crew, we want this to remain as secret as possible. We will inform the head of security on your team, but other than that the agent will be undercover.” Agent Hotchner, stern as ever, appears to be studying your reaction.

“Okay.” You sigh. “Okay, I can handle this. I’ll be fine. I’ll have an agent with me. Who’s going undercover? Do you have a cover story planned?” You look at Agent Hotchner with nervous eyes.

“We wanted to plan the cover story with you to make it as believable as possible. What are you planning on doing for the next few weeks?” You consider what your plans consist of. Honestly, nothing but songwriting.

“I plan on mostly working on songwriting. I usually go to cafes, parks, or anywhere really with people for inspiration. If I already have an idea, I’ll write from my hotel room or from home if I’m there. If any of you have any musical experience, then we could make up a cover story about a new writing partner. Nobody would really question it because I write with new people all the time.” You glance around the room to see if anyone is willing to take you up on your offer. Nobody says anything for a minute. They are communicating with looks again.

Penelope chimes in “Reid knows how to play the piano!” You can’t help but latch on to the statement as you turn toward Spencer.

“Really, that would be so helpful! I normally write to piano or guitar and then add any additional instrumental later in the studio. If you can play, then the story would look even more believable!” You are actually getting excited about this idea working out. You finally feel like you’ve helped them with something. They probably could’ve figured it out without you, but still.

“Yes, I can play. I mean, it’s just mathematics if you think about it.” Spencer responds quietly, like his mind is somewhere else.

“Reid, if you feel comfortable with it, that story sounds like great cover.” Reid nods at Agent Hotchner. “Great. You can go to your place and grab some clothes and anything else you’ll need.” He says to Spencer before turning his attention to you. You watch as Spencer walks out with the rest of the team before turning to meet Agent Hotchner’s eye. “It’s best if we stick to your plans as closely as possible. If the unsub is someone who works with you, he will likely notice if you start changing your behavior too much.” You nod in response, mentally going through everything you do from day to day.

“Agent Reid will stay with you in your hotel room if you are comfortable with it. That is the safest arrangement since he will be close by if anything happens. We will also have agents tail you when you go out in public. We’ll have a rotation of agents in the rooms around yours each night to allow Reid to rest as well. He knows how to contact us, but we will program our numbers into your phone as well for backup. Do not hesitate to call any one of us if something feels even remotely wrong, no matter the time. Do you understand?”

Again, you nod in response. It’s a lot of information to take in and honestly, you’re still thinking about sharing a hotel room with Spencer.

“We will need to see the letter you mentioned earlier if you still have it. We would also like to go through the fan mail you currently have and any new mail that comes in. If you see anything else that feels off or seems suspicious, tell Reid or call one of us. If you remember anything else, tell Reid or call one of us.” He gives you a questioning glance to ensure you are following.

“Basically, tell Reid everything. Got it.” You try to remain lighthearted even though Agent Hotchner’s serious expression hasn’t waned in the slightest.

“It’s good to see you’ve got a good attitude about this. It’s hard to remain calm, but it will help limit any suspicion on the part of the unsub. We don’t want to escalate his plans. Do you have any questions for me?” He gives you a reassuring look as you contemplate everything he’s told you.

“What does unsub mean?” you blurt out, surprising both of you. “Sorry, that was loud.” You cringe. “I just meant, why do you call the criminal, unsub?”

You can see the faintest of smiles on his face as he replies, “Right, we can get pretty wrapped up in a case. It stands for unidentified subject. We try not to assign nicknames or anything to the perpetrators as it can affect their behavior.”

“Right. Behavior.” You try to sound like you understand, but honestly this is so much different from all the detective shows you’ve seen. Apparently, Agent Hotchner notices and explains more.

“We catch criminals by analyzing their behavior and trying to predict what they’ll do next.”

“Like psychology? Nature vs. Nurture and mental disorders?” You ask, suddenly very curious about how this all works.

“Yes, just like that, although we normally go a little deeper.”

“So what can you tell about this unsub? That way I know what to look for.” Agent Hotchner seems pleased with this question.

“The unsub is a man, likely 25-40. Age is the hardest thing to predict, so don’t follow that guideline too strictly. He likely suffers from antisocial personality disorder stemming from negligent parents and has always had trouble interacting with people. He is highly organized, which usually indicates high intelligence, but in this case could be due to the time he spends alone planning. His lack of social skills has resulted in him only working menial jobs. He won’t have worked anywhere for more than a few months before finding a new job since people find him odd or off-putting. He has always felt as though he deserves more because of his self presumed high intelligence. It is possible you met him in passing and any act of kindness toward him resulted in an obsession with you. He doesn’t have the courage to approach you, so he watches from afar or online. That’s how he found his earlier victims. Since you don’t have any shows in the next few weeks, his MO might change slightly. That’s why we want to be so cautious and make sure we can ensure your safety.” You sit quietly for a moment, trying to picture anyone who fits the description. You try to meet the people who work with you, but you certainly don’t know everyone. You were honestly hopeful the description would point you toward a suspect, but you’ve got nothing. “I can’t think of anyone like that, but now I know what to look out for. Thank you Agent Hotchner.” “Please, call me Hotch. Do you have any more questions?”

“Just one, you said earlier that maintaining a sense of normalcy will prevent us from escalating his plans. What plans exactly?” You were nervous to ask this question, wondering if you really wanted to hear the answer.

“We don’t know exactly. It is possible the unsub has been trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but since you won’t be doing shows, it is unclear how he would make contact. Reid and the other agents will be looking for anyone who appears to be in a lot of the same places you are. If you notice anyone more than one time in a day, don’t hesitate to-“

“Tell Reid or call one of you. I got it.” You smile at him again. “Thank you again.” He nods as you both exit the room. Spencer isn’t back from picking up clothes yet, so you aren’t sure exactly what to do. Penelope notices you searching the room and waves you over to her. She is talking with Agent Morgan.

“Y/N! I was just telling my Chocolate Thunder about the song you started earlier. I just need to know, what does this fine specimen inspire you to write?” She sounds so excited you can’t bear to let her down. You study the man in front of you, searching for something to sing. You don’t know why, but there’s a certain sadness in his eye. He hides it well with his masculinity and the clear smirk on his face, but you know he’s been through some shit.

You don’t want to kill the mood though, so you stick to something a little lighter than past pain. “Well, Pen, I have to say he looks like a heartbreaker.” This only encourages the smirk on his face. “The type to love ‘em and leave ‘em.” You have had a song in the back of your mind for a while so why not break it out now. Penelope shrieks as you start humming, drawing a crowd. Again, you set up your phone to record. The rest of the BAU agents crowd around Morgan’s desk as you start singing.

“Magic, madness, heaven, sin, saw you there and I thought, oh my god, look at that face. You look like my next mistake.” That draws a few chuckles as you continue humming. More words pop into your head as you think about past relationships and what the media loves to say about celebrities. “Screaming, crying, perfect storms. I can make all the tables turn. Da dada da da, Keep you second guessing like, Oh my god, who is she. I get drunk on jealousy.” You hum some more, really getting into the flow of the song. “Cause darling I’m a nightmare, dressed like a daydream.” The group claps as you end the recording.

“That was actually pretty impressive.” Agent Morgan smirks at you some more.

“Well, to be honest I’ve had the melody in my notes for weeks, but I just couldn’t think of the right words.” Yet again, his smirk grows.

“I guess I’m just that inspirational.” You choke back a laugh as you roll your eyes. You hadn’t realized the size of the crowd you had garnered. You can’t help but knock him down a few pegs.

“You know what, I changed my mind. Agent Morgan’s song would be called I Knew You Were Trouble.” The entire group laughs at that one, but all the sudden you actually have another idea.

Before long, Penelope is asking you what songs you would write about the entire team.

“Start with Hotch!”

“Well, Hotch is so serious. So it’s kind of hard. His face just screams ‘I’ve been through it and dealt it out’. Maybe something like… your string of lights is still bright to see oh, who you are is not what you did, you’re still an innocent.” Even as you half sing it, the one line feels like it could lead somewhere big. It’s not quite right, but it’s a start.

“That’s so cool. Do me next! And please, just call me Emily.” You nod at her as you think back over your previous interactions.

“Alright, don’t get mad but something just popped into my head and I can’t un-hear it. They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good. Most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could.” The smile on her face told you everything you needed to know, but so did JJ.

“You absolutely nailed it. That is Emily to a tee.” JJ chimed in. “I’m kind of scared to see what you can come up with for me!” Your head is swimming with lyrics and melodies, but it has been so long since you’ve had this much fun writing music with a group of people. It’s become such a solo activity for you, but these people just have so many stories to tell.

“Okay, let me think.” You pause as you observe JJ. You can tell that she is such a sweetheart from the few hours you’ve known her, but you know you would be intimidated if you went to high school with her. “Sorry to be blunt but, you’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face. Cause look at your face.”

“Why thank you!” JJ smiles as you defend the lyric choice.

“I know you are so sweet and I of course don’t mean to say you are just a pretty face, but you really do have a pretty face.” The group chuckles again and nods in agreement. “Oh, wait! I’ve got another one. You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered, the rest of the world was black and white. But we were in screaming color.” That one came out of nowhere, but it felt right.

“Beautiful. Okay, okay! Rossi’s turn!” Penelope says right as the man walks out of his office.

“My turn for what?” He looks skeptical of the group, but in a loving way.

“Y/N is coming up with song ideas for everyone! She just did Morgan, Hotch, Emily, and JJ! She did mine earlier. So it’s your turn!”

“Well then by all means, be my guest.” You close your eyes as you think through the words swimming in your head.

“While, Rossi, you have a kind aura. You seem like a parent to this group of rowdy children. Reminds me of my dad.” Again, the group laughs. You begin humming, lightly patting the desk in front of you as you think back on memories of your own parents. “I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.” This tune was softer than the rest, more emotional. Everyone stops laughing as they listen to the soft melody you created.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” You feel slightly awkward with the new found silence.

“Please, bella, that was beautiful. You really know how to read people.” Rossi hugs you as you blush, thanking him for the compliment.

“That only leaves the resident genius. What would you write about Reid?” JJ poses the question and suddenly all eyes are on you. In all the commotion with the other songs, you didn’t notice Spencer exit the elevator. He walked in soon enough to hear the question. Deciding not to interrupt the conversation, he hangs back to listen to your answer.

You can feel the blush heating up your face, subconsciously hugging the sweatshirt he gave you to wear earlier. After all the short melodies and lyrics you’ve come up with, you are way too tired to put your feelings toward Spencer into words.

“I’ll be honest, it’s been in my head all night.” You begin to hum, knowing this would be a song about how you felt when you first saw him backstage, to when you spoke to him in the hospital room and all the little moments since then. “Your eyes whispered have we met…” you fill in for lyrics you’ve yet to write by humming. “All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you.”

“That was beautiful.” Spencer says from behind you. You jump in surprise, nearly falling out of your chair. You didn’t even realize he was in the room.

He looks sheepish as he apologizes for scaring you. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, reaching out a hand to help you up. The rest of the profilers share a knowing look as you rise from your seated position. They all wish you a goodnight as you and Spencer enter the elevator to head to your hotel. The ride to the parking garage is quiet. You keep humming that same melody, looking for the right words to fill in the blanks.

Spencer leads you to another black SUV opening the passenger side door for you to get in the car. He tosses his bag in the back before getting in and starting the drive.

“Penelope said it was my turn, did you do songs for everyone?” Spencer beaks the silence. You turn in your seat to look at him before responding.

“Kind of. Mostly just ideas of songs. Morgan’s was the most put together, only because it was a song I already started. I recorded the whole thing though. That way I won’t forget any ideas. I can play it for you when we actually start to write some music!” You are honestly surprised by the range of ideas you have.

“Wh-what? You actually want me to help you write songs? I th-though that was just a cover.” All of the sudden Spencer seems nervous and shy. You put the ideas swimming through your head on pause so you can devote all your attention to him.

“Spencer, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to come up with any profound lyrics or brand new chord progressions. But, since we are going to be spending a lot of time together, you do have to talk to me. Otherwise it would just be weird.” You try to lighten the mood. You can tell by the way he relaxed his shoulders it worked a little. He nods in agreement as he parks the SUV in the garage dedicated to the hotel you are staying in. You take the elevator straight up to the 11th floor. It’s honestly reassuring to be able to lead him somewhere after everything that happened in the past few hours.

You dig around in your bag- that somehow followed you on your journey from the arena to the hospital to the FBI building and now back to your hotel- to find the room key. No matter what you try, you can’t seem to slide the key card into the slot in the right way. Every time you try, the little light glows red before beeping indicating the door is still locked. After the fifth try, you are about ready to scream.

Suddenly, you can feel the heat from Spencer’s body as he slides up behind you to take the room key. He slides the card into the door, wiggles it around, and then slides it back out. To your surprise, the light glows green and the door unlocks. You must be exhausted to be this shocked at the fact he opened the door. You can’t even seem to force your feet to move. You just stand there like a fool, mouth agape.

“Why?” Spencer turns to look at you with a confused expression. “Why couldn’t I… How did you…?” You just point to the door. He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. He places his bag just inside the door before he turns around to close the door and lock the deadbolt.

Even after he led you into the room, you turned around so you could keep staring at the door. You don’t even realize you started crying. Spencer guides you to the bed and tucks you into the blankets. You know that you are going to wake up in an hour because you never sleep in pants, but you just don’t have the energy to fight him on it. He turns off the lamp, but before he walks away, you grab his arm.

“Can you stay?” You have never heard yourself sound so frail. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears to stop. Spencer looks conflicted, but ultimately sits down next to you, his back against the headboard. You lay next to him in the dark, not quite touching. Once your breathe calms enough that you can talk without bursting into tears, you ask “how do you do it?”

“Do what?” You smile at the sound of genuine concern in his voice.

“How do you deal with this kind of stuff all the time? I feel like I’m falling apart. I want to be strong about it, so I can help. But then all of the sudden I can’t keep it in anymore. I just… how do you make it seem so easy?” You feel sniffly again, but you try to focus on your breathing.

“It’s not easy. I hope it never becomes easy. It’s gotten easier, of course, but the minute I stop feeling everything is the moment I let them win. To feel pain in situations like this is human. Somebody wise once told me our best defense is our ability to empathize. It’s a completely natural reaction to experiencing something so traumatic. 70% of adults in the U.S. have experienced some type of traumatic event at least once in their lives. That's 223.4 million people. It would be...” He trailed off.

“It would be what?” You angled your head up to look at him even though you couldn’t see him in the dark.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I tend to ramble. I’m sorry.” He sounded so dejected, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for his hand. You had to shift on the bed a bit to reach his arm, so you ended up leaning your cheek against his thigh, tossing your arm over his lap in a sort of make shift hug.

“I like it. It’s calming… and informative.” You couldn’t help but smile into his leg. “People who complain are just jealous.” That actually makes him laugh, but it doesn’t sound like a happy kind of laugh. More like a self-deprecating one. “I’m serious. You are clearly smarter than everyone else is, and you are sneaky attractive. There is a lot to be jealous about.” You dig deeper into his lap as you squeeze his hand in yours. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Spencer running his free hand through your hair.

You wake up slowly, eyes adjusting to the dark. You can just make out the numbers on the bedside clock to be 4:37. You must have fallen asleep talking to Spencer. Your head was still resting on his lap, his hand in your hair. You untangle yourself from the sheets to rid yourself of the extra layers that woke you up. It takes a few minutes of digging around in the dark to find one of the t-shirts you normally sleep in. In that amount of time, Spencer, still sleeping, rearranged himself to be laying on the bed rather than leaning against the headboard. You stopped for a minute to observe his sleeping form. He looks so at peace compared to the furrow of his brow and the glint in his eye that normally mean he’s thinking too hard.

As soon as you lay back down in the bed, Spencer gravitates toward you. Before long, your head is resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You breathe in the scent of vanilla and new books; the rhythmic pattern of his chest rising and falling lulls you back to sleep.

Part 2

tag list:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #spencer #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader

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ticiie · 2 years

Text

week 13: hanging in a hammock

prompt from the off-season winter sports challenge

pairing: Marco Odermatt/Gino Caviezel

length: 1102 words

author's note: woah this was harder than i thought, can't remember last time i restarted a single prompt in so many different directions as i did with this one...anyways hope y'all enjoy it

The warehouse was almost empty and Marco wasn’t sad about it. The clock was ticking as the store would close in twenty minutes. He and Justin were standing in front of an exhibition model with a shopping cart full of utensils next to them. Marco couldn’t recall every having to buy that much stuff for not just the kitchen but every other room as well, when he had first moved out of his family’s house, those utensils had somehow just appeared. Gabriel had been much more of an adult than himself back then already.

“I think you should do it.”, Justin said. He leaned down so he could read the additional information on the price tag. “Even if he doesn’t like it, which he will, you’ll get out of it as the winner since you’ve got a patio yourself. You can just put it up there.”

Justin had a point. So, Marco pulled out his phone and dialled Gino’s number. He only had to wait three rings for Gino to pick up.

“I hope you’re calling to apologize for being late again.”

Marco ignored Gino’s comment although he did feel a little guilty. Instead, he asked: “You’re still planning on visiting Sandra on the weekend, right?”

Gino sighed. “Yes, Marco, I already told you this about five times. Why?”

“Just making sure. Hey, before I forget, how big is your balcony? Rule of thumb?”

“Alright, what the fuck is going on, why on earth do you have to know how big my balcony is?” He was starting to grow annoyed, Marco could tell, yet still Gino couldn’t fully ban the amusement out of his voice.

“I’m asking for a friend. Please?”

“3.5 on 2 meters.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back soon, love you!”

“Wait, Marco, what was- “but Marco had hung up already.

“You’re going to pay for that”, Justin said, not even trying to hide his grin.

“I am very much aware of that, thank you. Now help me find the right box so we can get this thing in the car.”

Gino hadn’t been in his best mood all week long and Marco would be the last to judge him. Nevertheless, when he left early in the morning on the following Saturday, he kissed Marco and silently wished he could stay with him.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”, he whispered and Marco smiled at him through drowsy eyes. Marco hid his grin in the pillow. It smelled like Gino’s shampoo and coffee, a comforting scent that Marco missed whenever they were apart. The door of Marco’s bedroom closed and only a second later, his phone announced the arrival of a text message. Marco reached over Gino’s side of the mattress to the bedside table. Justin had sent him a selfie that showed him on the passenger’s seat of Loïc’s minivan. Justin was grinning broadly while Loïc seemed to be at least as annoyed as Gino had been all week. found someone to help (we’ll have to bribe him, make sure coffee is ready when we come pick you up) was written beneath the picture.

When Sunday afternoon arrived, Marco was all jittery when waiting for Gino’s return. He had tried to occupy himself with tidying up the balcony. Gino’s plants out there had been in desperate need of attention. Marco would never in a million years admit that he had to call his mother via FaceTime to safe them, he himself hadn’t felt competent enough to just throw random amounts of water at them. After the rescue mission, he had vacuumed the whole flat, stocked the fridge with Gino’s favourite edibles and then had given the finishing touch to the early birthday present by wrapping a big red ribbon around one post. And just when Marco wanted to give in to the urge and test its comfortability, the rattling of Gino’s key was audible on the hallway. Marco made his way through the living room and to the door and was quick to open it, finding a very startled Gino in front of him.

“Well, hello there”, he greeted the older one, kissing him quickly so he wouldn’t get a chance to see behind Marco’s back. Gino returned the kiss, of course, but was still confused, even more when Marco made him turn around and blindfolded him with a scarf.

“Please don’t tell me the reason you’re doing this is because you set the kitchen on fire while I was gone”, Gino said and Marco chuckled. “No worries, I didn’t even touch it. Watch your step, there’s a table next to you.” He guided him towards the balcony door where he put his hands on Gino’s waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t hate me for this. Happy Birthday.”

Gino wanted to protest, tell Marco that his birthday wasn’t until next week, when the younger one removed the blindfold, allowing Gino to look at the shiny new hammock that was standing on the balcony, perfectly staged by the golden light of the sun which was setting behind the mountains. Gino gave a roar of delight. “Seriously? You got me a hammock?”

“I did. Although it did take Justin to convince me to buy it, I wouldn’t have- “Marco was interrupted by Ginos lips on his. They kissed for what felt like half an eternity and when they parted, Marco felt lightheaded. Gino smiled at him. “Thank you so much.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Gino let go of Marco and took a seat in his new place to be. To say it was comfortable probably was the understatement of the century. He sighed in relish; his whole body relaxed in an instant. “I live here now”, Gino stated. “You might wanna tell the others if they need me, they can either come here or have to provide me this hammock at any place they want me to come. Anything else is inacceptable.”

Marco laughed at Ginos words. He turned towards the door which didn’t go unnoticed by Gino.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to get us some drinks…” One look from Gino was enough to make Marco’s voice die down. And even though he had considered a lot of eventualities before buying the hammock and even though he had made sure twice that the way he and Justin had set it up was exactly as described on the manual, Marco certainly hadn’t expected that this thing would crash from the weight of two pro athletes. Perhaps that had been a bit naïve of him.

#OSWS #osws fandom challenge #marco odermatt #gino caviezel #ginodi #rpf #ski alpin #shoutout to wunderlichkind

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frustratedpoetwrites · 3 years

Text

Mr. March

Happy Birthday James Potter

So my plan was to post this on Saturday as that is the special day, but I've already been sitting on this for a few days and I am impatient for you all to read it. I hope you like it. Have to include a TW for a car crash.

read on AO3

Lily stared at her office calendar again, wondering once more if she should probably take it down. It wasn’t exactly PC and, even though she had checked that nobody was offended by it, she didn’t know if it was exactly acceptable to have a calendar of shirtless male firemen in a workplace anymore.

It had been part of her Secret Santa present (Marlene), and she had just put it up on the wall of her office in January, not taking that much notice of it. Not really anyway. Until March came around.

Mr March was wearing the boots and fireproof trousers with his chest bare, the same as all the others, the suspenders hanging at his waist. His light brown skin had been oiled and looked flawless contrasting against the tribal tattoo that covered his right shoulder and down the top half of his arm. The same arm that was holding a coiled hose making his bicep bulge slightly. He had dark penetrating eyes that were looking right back at her with a sparkle like he was thinking of some private joke just between them, his dark curling hair looked beautifully tousled in that way that photographers liked to do, to make you think their subject had just wandered out of bed, or someone had just had their fingers running through it. Once again she caught herself staring at him, biting the end of her finger in a wistful daydream, and not doing her work.

Mr March needed to be taken off the wall completely. He had already made her move the location of the calendar so it wasn’t constantly in her eye-line while she was sitting at her computer anymore. She found herself drifting off far too often fantasising about those strong arms rescuing her. Lord, she needed to get a life outside the office. Going home to her cat was not quite the same.

March moved to April and as nice to look at as the next picture was, she stopped noticing the calendar quite so much and she stopped thinking about taking it down.

“Have you seen the news?” her colleague and best friend Marlene came in asking her, as she sat down on the small sofa in the corner of her office. Lily did not stop what she was doing straight away as her friend asked the question, but finished typing out her sentence, added her sign off to the email, then clicked send. Only when she got the swoosh sound did she turn to the blonde woman waiting expectantly.

“I’m trying to get all my stuff done before my holiday next week so I haven’t stopped. What news?” she asked as Marlene pointed out the window where the spring sunshine was brightening up her office.

“Some blizzard is coming in. A blizzard in fucking April! Management is sending everyone home early. Didn't you get the email? I thought they would’ve sent it to you first?” Lily turned back to her computer frowning, realising she hadn’t turned off the do not disturb from her last Zoom meeting just after lunch. She clicked it off and hit refresh, then sighed as her screen filled with unread messages.

“You go, it’s fine, and send everyone else home too.” She told Marlene spotting a few ‘urgent’ flags and wondering how many of them actually were as urgent as the sender thought they were.

“What about you, Lil? The news says it’s another beast from the east. It might look okay now but who knows in an hour,” her friend told her concern clearly etched on her face. Lily smiled, feeling great affection for her friend and her worrying about her.

“I promise as soon as I get through these I’ll go,” she reassured her, although Marlene did not seem overly convinced and was squinting at her suspiciously. Lily half thought she might try to force her out the office and go home with her instead. As appealing as getting blind drunk and staying over at her best friend's house was, she didn’t want to leave anything half done here, as this was her last chance to try and catch up for a while. “If it gets too late or the snow’s too bad I’ll just stay. It’s not the first time.” This seemed to appease her enough to not force the issue any further. Instead she wished her a nice week off and bid her farewell.

continue.

#jily #one shot #fireman james #James Potter #Lily Evans #muggle au #modern setting au #car accident tw #happy birthday James Potter #tj writes

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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koreanmadeingreece · 3 years

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Why, why, why (4)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp.

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 1.6K (I should let you know that I’ve finished writing it so I’ll update it every 3 or 4 days!)

Part 4/11 (I think) First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

As soon as you told Chan what happened, after the other two left, he was speechless. He immediately offered to come home with you and help you choose what to wear, as he was the one person of those you had met that day that you were sure you reached your house, where you found Taeyong sitting with Yuta at the balcony. You let Chan in and Taeyong came to meet him in the speed of light.

“SO, you’re in her class, right? I’m Taeyong, oh and this is Yuta. We’re two years older. Do you like it here? Did you find a nice place? Oh, and let us know if you need anything…”

“Taeyong, just let the man breathe.” They both laughed at your comment and you went outside to find Yuta.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Great, thanks. You?” he asked, with a smile on his face.

“Awesome, honestly. My first day was amazing and I also met a lot of people, actually. I didn’t expect to be so lucky on my first day, so I’m kinda thrilled,” you said.

“And she’s got a date.”

“Chan, oh my god, it’s not a date!”

“Yet…” he smirked. Taeyong was looking at you in shock, and Yuta wasn’t even blinking for two seconds.

“Well, we went for a coffee with two other guys and the waiter kinda hit on me.”

“You hit on him first.”

“Fine. I hit on him first. The point is that I’ll see him again tomorrow and Chan came for emotional support.”

“Oh my god, my baby’s got a date!” Taeyong shouted in enthusiasm and ran to hug you.

“Did you say a waiter? Where?” Yuta asked.

“At that coffee shop close to our building. His name is Jonghyun. He’s a third-year student, so you might know him.”

“I do,” Yuta answered.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is he nice? Like, am I going to die if I’m alone with him? Is he a good guy?”

“I think so, yeah,” Yuta replied. “I don’t know him well enough to have more details though.”

“It’s okay. I guess I should be thankful for the fact that you’ll know who to blame when you find me murdered at the bottom of a cliff.” You made everyone laugh. Yuta laughed as well. It was a beautiful sight to watch. You thought of that every time you saw him, but quickly snapped out of it, when Chan started dragging you back inside the house and towards your room.

“So, what’s the deal with you and those guys?” Chan asked, as he was going through your closet.

“Well, Taeyong’s my best friend ever since we were little and now, he’s my roommate, and Yuta is a friend whom he met here. He’s a nice guy.”

“Kinda cold though.”

“Yeah, he is. Taeyong’s other friends told me he’s a sweetheart when he opens up to people though.”

“I sure hope so, because he barely said hello to me earlier.”

“I hope so too…” you mumbled and continued searching with Chan, until he thought he had found the perfect outfit for you to mesmerize your potential date.

A while later he had to go, leaving you alone in your room to sit, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Are you decent?”

“Yeah, come in,” you said, and Taeyong opened the door.

“Will you come sit with us?”

“Taeyong, I wanted to talk to you about this.”

“What? Sitting with us? Did anything happen with anyone?”

“Oh no, not at all. But it’s not necessary that they always want me around. I just moved here and stole their friend away. And I don’t want them to think that.”

“But Johnny would never… And V, no.” He paused. “Is Yuta acting weird?” You didn’t even have time to react and he was already making assumptions. “If he is, I’ll kill him for sure. He has nothing to worry about! Tell me. Has he said anything to you?”

“No, of course not. He was being a bit distant and I asked Johnny about it, is all. But, Taeyong, think about it. You used to be two, and now I’m here. It’s not irrational to feel like this. Now, please go. You’ve left him alone.”

“Fine. Come whenever you want though. I have other friends besides him, and he needs to know that.” Taeyong left your room, obviously irritated. You worried that something would happen with Yuta, but you didn’t hear them raising their voices. You feared that one day it would happen, but you were safe for now. Besides, you had already met enough people to hang out with and not become a load on Taeyong and his friends. You were already becoming independent.

The next day, you wore the outfit you had found with Chan and went to college, where you found him staring at you from afar, admiring the work he’d done.

“Oh my god, red suits you so much.”

“Come on, you’re making me blush,” you said and he laughed.

“Are you ready for five long hours of class and then for your date?”

“Shhh, don’t say that so loudly. Someone might hear it.”

“Someone might hear what?” you heard and turned around, only to find Yuta standing right beside you.

“Nothing. What are you doing here?” you asked in panic.

“What do you mean? I study here.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan didn’t hesitate to interfere, seeing you were in complete panic mode. “Don’t get her wrong, she’s just nervous for this afternoon.”

“Ah, right, the date.” Yuta smiled. “I hope everything goes well with that. But, that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. Can you come with me for a second?”

“Oh no, don’t bother. I’m going to class, alright? I’ll get you a seat next to the others,” Chan said and you thanked him.

Yuta waited a few seconds for Chan to leave before he started talking, which seemed like the longest seconds of your entire life. “So, since you’re new here, and you probably don’t know about this, our department hosts movie nights two times a month for people from different departments to get to know each other. And it’s this Saturday. We’re watching The Zodiac Killer. Would you like to come? I told the others already and they said yes.”

As shocked as you were from Yuta’s suggestion, you thought you wouldn’t dare to lose this opportunity, since it only happened once in a lifetime. “Yes, I’d love to!” you exclaimed, trying and not succeeding to hold back your enthusiasm.

“Okay, I’ll text you the details,” he smiled. “Well, I probably won’t have to, though, as I’ll be seeing you all the time from now on. Anyway, I have to get going. Bye,” he said and left soon after, leaving you speechless and unable to go to class. Yuta, who was colder than an ice cube, had invited you voluntarily. If that wasn’t progress, you didn’t know what could be.

You went at your class, sat next to Chan, who was mocking you for Jonghyun all day, and BamBam, who was practically sleeping on is desk, and that was how the day passed until you actually had to man up and go to the coffee place.

“Chan, please slap me in the face. I can’t go in.”

“No, I can’t slap you. We need you to be pretty for your date.”

“Ah, come on! This is not the way to give some strength to a friend.”

“Neither is slapping you before meeting a hot guy!”

“Fuck, you’re right. Okay, I’m going in.”

“You’ve got this! I believe in you.” He waved goodbye at you and left as you entered the coffee shop around 5:30. You spotted him on the counter, taking an order from an older lady. You hadn’t consciously noticed it, but you spent a few seconds looking at him, admiring his subtle but rather gentle smile that showed off his cheekbones and all the beautiful characteristics of his face.

You soon snapped out of it, as you heard his voice.

“Y/N, you came! Hi! What can I get you?”

You blinked a few times, trying to get it together and actually retain contact with the planet earth, and replied to him. “Oh, hi! Um, a double cappuccino with a lot of sugar please.”

“Sure. You can sit for a while until I finish my shift and then we can go for a tour around the city, since you’re new. I can show you a few places if you’d like and maybe we can sit somewhere…?” he said, smiling. You couldn’t take your eyes off his smile. He was incredibly handsome and seemed like an amazing guy. What could possibly go wrong?

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to,” you replied. Besides, it wasn’t really that hard to watch this guy work while enjoying a perfect cup of coffee.

After a few minutes, you noticed him going at the back of the shop. He returned moments later, wearing his normal clothes and not the shop’s uniform, finding you emerged in your thoughts.

“You look so good in red.”

“Oh my god thanks,” you were already blushing, three seconds into your date. That was when you realized he was wearing a dark gray shirt and black pants that made him twice more handsome than usual. In fact, you wished Chan hadn’t left the city center just to see him like this. You were sure your words would not even be close to how he really looked. “You don’t look bad yourself,” you teased.

He offered you his arm and you followed, watching him show you the basics in the city since you were new there. He knew all the best coffee shops, bars and stores you wouldn’t notice at first glance. After a while, you decided to sit at a place near the park for a beer, since there was the best view. The orange leaves falling off trees were the best setting for your date. Or, at least what was starting to look less than a get-to-know encounter and more like a date.

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 3 years

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Black Peonies preview

A/N: This is the first chapter of the J/H soulmate AU fanfic I’ve been working on for a really long time. I do not plan on posting it on AO3 or ff.net for now, because I have yet to finish writing the last couple of chapters.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this sneak peek.

Trigger Warning: Explicit child abuse

Chapter one:

January, 1970

Steven Hyde walked through the dark streets of Point Place alone. Mr. Forman’s brother from Chicago got hurt, and the whole Forman clan went to see him for the weekend, which means that Hyde had nowhere to go.

He stayed with Kelso and Donna for a big chunk of the day, but Bob doesn’t like when Donna has boys over after it was dark out, so he and Kelso had to take off.

He walked Kelso to his home, because Hyde was not in a hurry to get to his own house. It was a Saturday, and Edna tends to go a little crazy on Saturdays, that’s why he would often sleep over at the Forman’s.

He was lucky Bob and Midge made them snacks too, because Edna rarely buys any food for the weekends. She tends to spend the little money they have on booze and drugs.

He spent as much time as possible walking around, trying to avoid going home to Edna, but there wasn’t much he could do, it was very cold outside, and he didn’t have a nice jacket to keep him warm, he needed to go home. It was trashy, but at least there was heat. He hoped Edna would be passed out by now, but he doubted, it was still early.

The minute he reached his block, he sighed. He could already hear the sounds of beer bottles clinking and the voices of his mom’s stoner friends, she definitely was not asleep, crap.

Someone threw a beer bottle at his direction, and the glass shattered all over the shitty pavement. He glanced at the direction the bottle came from, and saw his mother’s laughing figure sitting on the porch. Fucking fantastic.

“Home already, kiddo?” She asked, slurring with her words and blowing the smoke from the cigarette in her hand.

“It’s cold” He shrugged, and tried to get inside the house before his mother would start with her usual drunken ramblings, that usually ended up with her blaming him for her shitty life.

His mother grabbed his arm to stop him and he sighed in frustration.

“You couldn’t have stayed with your friend today?” She asked bitterly

“He’s outta town with his folks” He answered, hoping she would drop it and let him go to his room.

“It wasn’t enough for you to ruin my career, now you have to ruin my weekend too?” She said, puffing out another cloud of smoke

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had somewhere else to go” Hyde answered

“Aren’t you a smartass?” Edna taunted him, and laughed slyly.

“I want to go inside, it’s cold” Hyde said simply, if he learned something from all of his 11 miserable years with Edna, is that there was no use in arguing with her.

“I know something that will warm you up in a second” She slurred out and laughed, forcefully grabbing his right hand on her bony fingers and putting out her cigarette on his skin.

He felt his skin burning and tried to pull his hand off her tight grip, the pain brought tears into his eyes and it was almost unbearable. But she held on tighter, pressing the burnt stub onto his skin as she laughed.

"Tears?" Edna mocked at the sight of Hyde's teary eyes "Aren't you supposed to be a tough guy?"

He held himself back. He wanted to tell her to fuck off so badly, but he knew better. If he did, he would have to spend the night wandering the streets, and he wasn't in the mood to freeze to death.

She flicked the bud onto the snow, and finally let go of his hand. The pain didn't go away though, in fact, it got worse. He thanked a God he wasn't so sure he believed in for making Wisconsin winters so cold. He would be able to hide the burn by wearing gloves and ease the pain by shoving his hand onto the snow that probably accumulated by his bedroom's dingy window.

Hyde glanced one last time at his stoned and drunk pathetic excuse of a mother and headed inside the house, holding his right hand on his left one.

Sometimes he wished the soulmate thing wasn't real. He doesn't like the thought of an innocent girl suffering all the pain his mother puts him through.

But he knew better, the universe never cared about his wishes, otherwise he would have a different mother. He just hoped that the girl who had the bad luck of being his soulmate had a strong support system or whatever, because his shitty reality isn't changing anytime soon.

Meanwhile, in Point Place's community theater…

10 year old Jackie anxiously tried to peek through the closed blinds, today was probably one of the most exciting days of her life, she was about to play on her first piano recital ever! She was trying her hardest to not be nervous, because she’s a Burkhart, and Burkhart’s excel on absolutely everything they do – according to her mother. She practiced every day for hours, she wanted to be perfect, because both of her parents promised they’d watch her play today.

“Miss Burkhart, it’s almost time, are you ready?”

“Yes I am, Mrs. Crawford! I have my sheet here with me – even though I don’t need it, just as a precaution” Jackie said excitedly, and her music teacher smiled

“You’re going to do great, Jackie” She said with a small smile “Go wait over there, you’re up next”

Jackie nodded and went to wait where her teacher indicated. Her heart was beating so fast, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She couldn’t wait to be praised by her parents.

They already missed her dance recital, and neither of them were there when she won the trophy for “Prettiest Ballerina”, but they promised they would attend her piano recital, that’s why she decided she would play one of the hardest songs, so she could impress them.

She knew none of her colleagues had the ability to play this song; most of them were playing “Fur Elise” or “Ode to Joy”. She wanted to be the best, so she chose “Clair de Lune” by Debussy, one of her father’s favorites songs. He likes to listen to it when he’s smoking his cigars, so she made sure to learn just to make him proud.

When she heard Mrs. Crawford calling her name, she’d put on her stage smile, the one her mother taught her so long ago. When she entered the stage, she glanced at the audience, trying to find the familiar faces of her parents. She didn’t see either of them, and she had to repress the urge to cry.

They bailed on her, again. They promised they would make it!

She took a deep breath and saw Martina’s familiar face. She was giving her a sad smile, and Jackie sighed. She likes Martina, but she would never fill the hole left by her mother. It’s not like Martina wants to be there anyways, she only went because she’s paid to do so.

Jackie quickly forced a smile and went to sit at the piano bench. If her parents didn’t want to be there, that’s their loss. There was a good amount of LOPP’s mothers there, she hoped they would tell her mother later how she played beautifully, and her mother better feel bad.

She stretched her fingers the way Mrs. Crawford taught her, and placed the music sheet on its proper place. The second her fingers touched the piano keys, she felt herself relaxing a bit, and when she started to play, she genuinely smiled. The first couple of minutes of the song went smoothly, some people even clapped when she mastered the transition from the slow part of the song to the slightly faster one.

Then she stopped playing, and not because the song was over.

Out of nowhere, she felt a blinding pain on her hand. She whimpered in pain and held her right hand with her left one, tears involuntarily falling from her eyes.

Mrs. Crawford quickly ran to see what was going on with her best student, and she sighed when she saw a black peony forming on the girl’s hand.

“It’s burning, Mrs. Crawford” Jackie cried, and the older woman placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I know honey, you know what that means, right?” She said, and Jackie nodded.

That means that her soulmate was hurting. Again.

Last week Jackie got a new flower on her shoulder, and the week before that, she felt like someone was slapping her on her face.

Thank God that bruises on the face don’t leave flower marks, otherwise people would see her as a freak, because she feels like she’s being slapped or punched on at least once a week.

Mrs. Crawford guided her out of the stage, and made her sit on a small bench near the dressing rooms. Jackie carefully rubbed her hand, the pain was starting to subside a little, the black peony marking the exact place where it was hurting.

“Do you want to go back and start again, Jackie?” The woman gently asked, and Jackie shook her head.

All she wanted to do was go back home and pray for her soulmate to get the help he needs. She doesn’t know why he gets hurt so often, but she wanted it to stop. For both of their sakes.

#jackie x hyde #jackie and hyde #soulmate AU #black peonies #fanfic #zenmasters #that 70s show #that '70s show

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

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Not Today XIII

A/N: This is the first of... FOUR chapters I am writing this week. I'm still posting one on Wednesdays, and one on Saturdays, but I needed to get a little bit ahead because I'll be out of town next week and didn't want to not have updates! So, look for the next chapter Saturday, and I hope you all enjoy this one! Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

Aethelind found herself training harder in the following weeks. She spent most of her days out in the training fields, fitted in trousers, fighting anyone who was willing to take her on. There was a surprising number of people who would, and with each fight she felt like she was improving. She learned something new, at least, with every person she fought. Some of the men, she would defeat, some of the women too, and then some she wouldn’t.

However, there was hardly any warrior or shieldmaiden who didn’t want a chance to fight the Warrior Princess of Wessex. So, she wasn’t exactly at risk of having no one to train with. If Hvitserk came down, he would take precedence to them all, however. The Son of Ragnar was Aethelind’s favorite to train against, just because of his sheer talent for fighting, and the fact that, while he wasn’t the best at teaching her to speak in his tongue- well, he wasn’t quite as good as Freydis, even if better than Ivar- he was an excellent teacher when it came to the battlefield.

Under him, she was thriving. She was winning more training fights every day than she had the last, and it was about decided that she would be able to hold her own in any fight. Hvitserk wanted to start having her fight more people at once, preparing her for a battle. There was an unspoken arrangement, that that’s what he was training her for. After all, Hvitserk- like Ivar- knew the truth about just who was in Wessex, now. But he’d had… a bit of a different thought about it.

He knew it was likely only a matter of time before his brothers and Lagertha returned for Kattegat. And… he couldn’t say yet which side he would fight for. He loved Ubbe, he loved Björn, but he also loved Ivar. The only thing was…

Ivar was crazy. He thought he was a god. Yes, they’d grown up hearing how their father, Ragnar Lothbrok, was descended from Odin, but that didn’t mean they, themselves, were gods! How Ivar had gotten that in his head, Hvitserk wasn’t sure, but he had an idea. All he did know, was he was having doubts about his support of the King of Kattegat. And if he chose to turn on him, he wanted to be sure he’d prepared Aethelind the best he could for whatever came of that.

For one thing, when he wasn’t with Thora, he was with Aethelind. His betrayal might automatically turn suspicion onto her. If she got caught in the fallout, he wanted her ready to defend herself. He couldn’t betray anyone unless he knew he’d mitigated as much of the damage as he possibly could. Once Aethelind could hold her own in battle, he’d know he’d done it.

The ringing of swords clashing together rang out through the air, as Aethelind and Hvitserk battled once more. They often came so close to one outcome, only for the other to suddenly pull it off, and it seemed that was about to happen again. Hvitserk had had her on the ropes, just a few minutes ago, but she’d ducked and slid right between his legs, popping back up on the other side and using her foot to kick him away, and he’d stumbled and fallen to the ground.

Now, he was trying to keep defending himself until he could get back up, but her sword was coming hard, fast, and relentless, making him have to focus so much on not missing, and being struck, to focus on getting up onto his feet. She feigned a thrust to the right, and when he went to block, she brought her sword back to the left, and caught his blade. This action sent it flying out of his hand, and when he reached for it, she pinned his arm down by stepping- lightly, so as not to actually hurt him- on his wrist.

There was a flash of something, something that caught Aethelind off guard entirely, and she stepped back. Just as soon as it had come, the sight of Hvitserk suddenly pale, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes, stringy hair barely pulled out of his face, clearly incredibly unwell, was gone. But it had still startled her well enough, and made her shake her head and drop to her knees beside him.

Her brows creased with a deep concern, and her hands reached out to take his face between her hands, her sword long abandoned behind her now. Hvitserk looked confused at the confusion written across Aethelind’s face, but he couldn’t deny the concern was rather endearing. If not… still concerning.

She couldn’t think of how to explain just what she had just seen, had just witnessed, but Hvitserk looked perfectly healthy, perfectly happy now. His skin was the same color it always was, his hair was clean, his eyes clear. So what had she seen? Why had he suddenly looked so sick and so miserable?

Eventually, Hvitserk decided he was concerned enough to try and find out just what exactly was bothering her so badly, and so he asked, “Is something the matter, Princess?”

She blinked a few times, and her eyes finally met his. A slight reddish tint crossed her cheeks and she chuckled shyly, releasing him. “You fell pretty hard, it seemed,” she lied easily. “I just… needed to be sure you were alright.”

Hvitserk’s smile turned more gentle then, and he sat up, taking her hand in his. “I am well, Aethelind,” he said softly. “Perhaps we should be done for the day. We can go and take some rest, after a meal. How does that sound, hm?”

Aethelind nodded, and then gave her head a light shake. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me.”

Hvitserk put an arm around her and pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her head as he felt her head resting against his shoulder. “I do,” he answered her. “And I understand. Come, let’s have some food and drink.”

She nodded and sat up again, smiling at him slightly, before watching him get to his feet and offer her a hand up. Accepting it, she too stood, and they started off.

The pair walked up to the Great Hall, his arm still slung around her shoulders. Hvitserk opened the door when they arrived to let Aethelind pass through. He followed her inside, got them both hot meals and warm drinks, before suggesting they return to her chambers to eat.

Normally, she’d have insisted she was fine to sit in the hall and eat, but today… Whatever had happened with Hvitserk had her still quite shaken, and though Hvitserk read this as a reaction to something entirely different, it was still enough for him to recognize that today was rather not the day to eat in the hall.

So, they took their food and drinks to her chambers, and sat at her desk. He’d pulled a chair up beside hers, and they settled in there. Most of the eating was done in silence, Hvitserk’s eyes studying the rather disturbed look on her face. He waited until she was finished eating to finally ask.

“How are you feeling?”

Without any explanation, Aethelind understood the exact meaning of his words. She took a deep breath, and her eyes fell to her hands, which moved to rest in her lap. “I miss him,” she confessed, her voice quiet. “We got close, in the years Alfred was gone to the Holy City. I never imagined he would just… go like that.” Her eyes watered a little as she recalled the news she’d received just a few weeks ago, and Hvitserk nodded slowly. “Alfred was always the one prone to falling ill, not Aethelred. I don’t think anyone could have seen it coming. And the fact he passed while Alfred was sick…” She gave another sigh, and shook her head. “Forgive me, I’ve spoken about this at length with you, Hvitserk. You’ve been good to humor me so long, but you really don’t need to. I know I’ve likely exhausted the subject.”

That sounded so like her Hvitserk had to bite back a chuckle. Aethelind was always so considerate, and even after the death of her own brother, after which she’d thrown herself head first into her training, she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. This caused Hvitserk to shake his head, and reach for her hand. “Your theory makes sense,” he said. “If someone wanted to take the throne, it would make sense to do so while you were away, and the King himself was sick. If your brother was as healthy a man as you say he was, then I have no doubt he must have been poisoned. But Alfred, he is well, is he not?” Aethelind nodded slightly, and so Hvitserk smiled. “Then there is hope for your people,” he said. “I am just glad we managed to keep you from running home.”

She sighed, and cracked a small smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “You were all right about that. As much as I wished to be with my family… Aethelred was gone days before I heard, and by the time I returned, would have been long buried. I may have just been putting myself in danger to go.”

Hvitserk nodded. “Exactly. And you were sent here for safety, as well as for peace, hm? Ivar swore to protect you, and letting you run into what may have been a trap would have broken that oath.”

He didn’t miss the way her smile grew as she considered that, before answering, “You’re right, and I’m glad he upheld his oath. Though, I’m sure he was also reluctant to let go of the extra pair of hands when it comes to his new baby.”

Freydis seemed prepared to give birth any day now, in Aethelind’s opinion. And she had already offered to do anything she could to help with the baby, including during the arrival, and after. Both Ivar and Freydis had been more than pleased with this offer, and had readily accepted it.

Hvitserk chuckled softly at her insinuation, even as he shook his head. “Ivar wants you safe,” he told her. “One of… very few things the two of us agree on, these days. But we do. You are more than help for Freydis and him with the new baby.”

“I know,” she replied, chuckling softly as well. “He’s… struggling, right now. I can see as much. But I think he’s still a good man.”

And thus, she had summed up exactly what Hvitserk was struggling with himself. “Sometimes, I wonder how much of my little brother still exists, and how much is replaced by this… ‘Ivar the God’,” he confessed to her. She sighed softly and shook her head.

“He must know he’s not a god,” she replied. “Mustn’t he? I know your people disagree with mine on just who exactly is a god, or is God, but I think… neither of us would be correct in saying it was Ivar.”

Hvitserk nodded in response to her words. “He won’t hear it,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell him, but he thinks I’m the one who is crazy. Not him.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s crazy, exactly,” Aethelind said with a grimace, ever the optimist. “I think he’s just… buried beneath years of anger, and pain, and hatred.” Ubbe had said those exact words to her, many months ago, she recalled. “Perhaps a bit of heartbreak, too. We just need to reach him.”

“If it can be done,” Hvitserk allowed, but ultimately sighed. “If it is not too late.”

There came a knock at the door, and both Hvitserk and Aethelind looked up to it. They shared a look that said neither of them knew who it was, and so she called, “Enter!”

The door opened and Ivar himself stepped inside, causing both their hearts to jolt in their chests. They hoped desperately he hadn’t overheard them.

“Brother,” he greeted, not at all caught off guard by finding them together. “I need a moment with the Princess.”

Hvitserk’s heart jumped in a rather unpleasant way. Ever since he learned who had pushed King Harald back, he had been trying to stay with Aethelind. He didn’t know the full extent of what Ivar was thinking about it, but he knew he wanted to shield Aethelind from any horrible reaction Ivar could have. But… in Kattegat, what Ivar wants, he will have. And just then, he wanted time to speak with her alone. There was nothing for Hvitserk to do against that. So, he simply nodded, patted Aethelind on the shoulder and kissed her head.

“I’ll find you soon,” she told him with a warm smile, and he returned the smile to her, nodding. There was a tense moment as he started out of the room, and he and Ivar looked at each other. Hvitserk cracked a small, knowing, tight-lipped grin, and left.

Once he was gone, and the door was shut, Ivar turned back to Aethelind. She offered him a warm smile, and gestured toward the chair Hvitserk had just occupied. He waved a hand in a way so as to decline the offer to sit.

It was just one moment of him being stubborn, refusing to do something that would be a great help to him. But, she’d just been with Hvitserk, who he had seen fighting with her, training her, and walking at her side. Not that Ivar couldn’t walk, obviously he could, with his crutch and the braces he wore on his legs, but she wouldn’t have to slow down for Hvitserk.

There was no reason for him to want to prove himself to Aethelind, of course. And yet still, something drove him to try and do so, to be just as much of a man as Hvitserk was, when he was with her. It couldn’t be that he wanted to impress her. There was no need for that. He was married already anyway, and he loved Freydis more than anything. No, it was just that he- again- was struggling to live up to his brother. Wasn’t it always that?

Aethelind, of course, saw right through it. She gave him a somewhat pointed look, the sort he had come to recognize in her that said she saw through whatever it was he was attempting. He’d learned how similarly they thought since she arrived, and that meant it was incredibly difficult to pull something over on her.

Ivar often found himself trying not to think too hard on why he found that entertaining, as opposed to frustrating. It created a very interesting banter between the two of them, and he found her challenging him in ways that strengthened him. Perhaps that was why he found his time with the Princess to be entertaining, and not frustrating. Their thought processes complemented each other, as opposed to rubbing against each other.

You will be pulled like the tides, at the command of the moon.

The words nearly sent a chill down his spine. He’d heard them at the same time he was told, by the Seer, that a snake had settled in his skull- whatever that meant. He wasn’t sure what these other words meant, either, but they’d been part of his final prophecy. Ivar had killed him right after that, but no one else knew.

He questioned if Aethelind could have figured it out. It was probably better she’d arrived after the Seer’s death. Hvitserk was close enough to the truth, he didn’t need someone else learning what had happened.

Which, brought him back to why he wanted to speak with her. It was no secret to him that she must have known Lagertha, Björn, Ubbe, and Torvi were in Wessex, along with Bishop Heahmund, but he was hanging onto that. He was never one to play his cards the moment he had them. So, this card was one he was hanging onto, until such a time as it would truly help him to play it.

Ivar ignored the fact he rather hoped she’d tell him one day. It was a foolish thing to hope for. As much as he wanted to believe she trusted him, there was no doubt in his mind that Björn and Ubbe would have turned her against him. It was why he couldn’t trust her, not fully. There were things he trusted about her, things he trusted she would be consistent in, but if he were to trust her… He’d be a fool.

So perhaps he had brought something of a test for her. It was clear to him now that Hvitserk was beginning to turn against him, and while he intended to test Hvitserk, he figured this could play as a test of Aethelind’s loyalties in Kattegat. If they resided with Hvitserk, then there was a good chance they resided too with Björn and Ubbe.

He wouldn’t be sure what to make of it if they resided more with himself than with Hvitserk.

A deep breath, inhaled and exhaled, signaled to Aethelind he was about to begin, and so she sat up straighter in her seat, giving him all her attention.

"I had something I wished to speak with you about, before it is done,” he confessed, and she nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you. What’s on your mind, Ivar?”

And there was that perfect disposition, once again. Always so gentle, so good to him. She was always ready to drop everything to help with anything. Perhaps that was part of why he didn’t trust her fully, too. Everyone he’d ever known had had a dark side. Where was hers?

Ivar sighed, and chuckled. “I have made a decision, but I think you should know before I enact it,” he said. She watched how he shifted his weight, leaning more heavily onto his crutch. His legs must have been bothering him, Aethelind realized. She wished he’d sit.

"Sit and tell me?” she suggested.

He almost rolled his eyes. What was it with her and wanting him to sit? He was just fine standing. Perhaps his legs were aching, but-

“Ivar, Hvitserk was sitting. Would you just sit down and get out of your head for once?”

Ivar blinked a few times, his eyes widening and brows lifting as he looked to her. Shocked, he held up a hand in surrender, and finally went to sit across from her. This seemed to satisfy Aethelind, as she smiled and nodded, silently permitting him to continue.

“I… have found an ally,” he said. He still seemed a bit stunned, which earned a giggle from Aethelind. “What is it?”

“You look like a startled duck,” she said, laughing again and leaning against her desk.

This only seemed to further confuse him. “A startled duck?” he questioned. “How do I look like a startled duck, hm?” She sort of mimicked the expression he’d just had, and he chuckled. “I did not look like that,” he argued.

“You did,” she insisted. “Don’t worry, it was sweet, and I won’t tell anyone. I don’t imagine the King of Kattegat would want his reputation ruined by his people learning that some foreign Princess could reduce him to a startled duck.”

Ivar rolled his eyes at her- really, he rolled his whole head- before pinning them back on her, and trying to get on with business. “I want to send Hvitserk to speak with him on my behalf,” he said. “I have come to you about this because I see how often you are with my brother, and I wanted to warn you before I sent him away.”

“When are you sending him?” she questioned. He noted the frown, the way her brows creased, and knew she wasn’t fond of this decision. But, he supposed he’d not be happy if he found out a close friend of his was being sent away.

Not that he’d ever had many close friends, but the point remained.

He answered her, “He will leave in a few days. I don’t want it mentioned to him until I have spoken with him, though. The reason I told you is so you would not be surprised by it.”

Aethelind nodded a little. “Well, thank you for letting me know,” she said, and her small smile returned. “Hopefully, we’ll finish my training before then.”

“If not, we will find a way to finish it without Hvitserk,” Ivar offered. He smiled at the way she lit up. If only his brothers and Lagertha weren’t in Wessex, hadn’t probably gotten to Aethelind before she had come to Kattegat. He could have taken more joy in those smiles of hers then.

“You could always train me,” she pointed out then, and that ‘startled duck’ look returned to his face. “And before you say no, I know you’re the most feared man in the world. You’ve earned that some way, haven’t you? I imagine you fight better than anyone would guess.”

Ivar shrugged slightly. “That may be so,” he said. “But how can I know you won’t use it against me some day, hm?”

“Me? Turn against you?” Aethelind asked, and laughed softly. “Kattegat will have fallen, and Wessex as well, the day I make the decision to do that.”

“Is that true? You would not turn against me?” he questioned. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching her closely. “What if it was your brother who asked it of you?”

Aethelind wasn’t quite sure what had brought this on, and so she returned his look with a very similar one, and answered, “I can’t see why he would, but were he to… I’d warn against breaking his word, and stand by mine.”

“And do I have your word that you will not turn against me?”

She smiled at him genuinely, and gave a short nod.

“You do.”

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

do you want more of this? isn't it glorious?

summary: requested: Imagine the victory sex after Andy wins a case. It’s a mix between the softest and most harried sex you’ve ever had, bc he’s so excited but he also wants to slow things down and just revel in the moment. also he feels guilty about working so late all the time and ignoring you for this case, so he of course has to make it up to you somehow

warnings: just smut. a lotta smut. pretty vanilla smut tho. it’s cute smut.

word count: around 5,000

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: so okay, if you’re upset with me that i haven’t been writing. i am guilty, definitely, but the real culprit is this story! (okay, it was technically me for being an idiot and editing a post ON tumblr instead of the word doc, but) i just got really attached to this writing and when i lost some of it, it was actually really sad and i could not make myself finish this request until literally two days ago even though i started working on it at the start of june. and plus also, i really am about to have to find a new song, running out of lyrics l o l

Andy wasn’t anything close to optimistic when he left that morning. He was exhausted because he’d crawled into bed at three in the morning. He was scattered, his keys in his office, his phone upstairs and uncharged, the files he’d been looking at the entire night either in the kitchen, living room, or his office. He was nervous, something you only knew because he asked you to tie his tie.

But Andy wasn’t some overly emotional man who needed your support to win a case. He relied on himself first, you second—and that was okay, that was what you signed up for. Andy loved taking care of you and there were some lines that that meant you weren’t able to cross.

You wanted to tell him that you knew he would do the best he could, you wanted to claim that that was all that mattered. It was bigger, though. It wasn’t him that had failed, it wasn’t even the evidence or the police. It was about politics, he had explained when you asked a few days prior. It was about a case that he had known was always going to be a long shot at best, and well, impossible otherwise.

So, you simply knotted the tie, smoothed your hand down it, and told him you loved him in gray. He scoffed. How could you not be tired of seeing him in gray at this point? Instead of giving him an answer that would make him blush, you kissed him.

He asked you about work and you told him it was just another day. Actually, you would be skipping work, not much to do anyway, and you knew that this case was important. You didn’t want to chance getting caught up in anything and making it home after him. You wished him luck on his way out and he kissed the top of your head and thanked you.

Nothing major, of course. Because he didn’t want you to know that he was worried about this. When you were just dating Andy, picking up on these signs was almost impossible. As soon as you were living together, he was completely and unintentionally transparent.

Sometimes, he would come home and it felt like he had a raincloud with him. Sometimes, he would just lay with you, hold you in his arms for hours, just wanting to hear you talk. Sometimes, he was too disappointed in himself and holed up in his office until you forced him out.

Other times, he was sunshine and full of happiness and pride. He would hold you all the same, but he would kiss you and tell you how much he loved you. He would want to celebrate, go out for dinner, plan a small vacation. You loved him always, wholly, but when he won, that was when you were happiest.

As mentioned, there wasn’t much you could do. Andy was big on little gestures. He didn’t need you to be some cheerleader waiting at his side and telling him that he was doing everything right. He needed to do this alone, win or lose on his own, and then come to you with the results. He wasn’t too keen on letting you be involved in the cases anyway, he didn’t want you worrying or hearing about those terrible details that had made him cancel the newspaper a long time ago.

So, it was a Friday, and if he lost or won, that meant that you would have the rest of the day, Saturday, and Sunday to react to it. You guys could stay home and eat terrible food, watch movies, and just be with one another. He’d told you several times that being with you was the only thing that could make him feel better after a loss.

You were baking cookies, his favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip. You didn’t bake much, and cooking was fairly equal, so this was definitely a “special occasion” type of thing. He’d informed you of this preference on your first date. Then explained that if he had one chance to go back in time, it would be used to find the person who thought up oatmeal raisin cookies and help imprison them for the rest of their life.

It was one of those moments that you realized you would be just as crazy to let him go as you would be to keep him. If only because you knew you were going to fall so deeply in love with him. Clearly, you were right since your third anniversary was approaching.

It was four when he got home and you rushed out of the kitchen. Early. Too early. That normally wasn’t a good sign. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning. When he looked at you, you were even more confused. There was something in his eyes, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it.

You set your oven mitt on the counter. “Baby?”

He walked up to you, just watching. His eyes never left yours as he tossed his jacket onto the floor, loosened his tie, then unbuttoned the sleeves of his button-up.

“Andy?”

He took your shoulders, turning you away from him. “The wall, walk to it.”

“What?”

He kissed the top of your head, then whispered, “Come on, baby, be a good girl and do as I say.”

You turned up to him curiously. It was one of those days, you were not allowed to argue. You would say yes, and he would make it worth your while. Currently, he was trying to call your bluff, he wanted you to say no almost as much as he wanted you to just say yes.

Andy liked it when you fought a little. Sometimes. To an extent. But never when he lost, and you were too scared of that possibility. Maybe the trial was extended and the stress was getting to him. He could use you for the relief, it was one of the most flattering compliments you’d ever received. Besides, he offered you the same when you had a rough day at work.

You looked forward and made your way to the wall. Was it wrong that you were already wet? There was something about Andy. Something irresistible when he spoke to you this way, when he was in one of these moods. Something so sexy when he let you have no room to breathe, to compromise, to pull away from him at all. You were his completely and he was reminding you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You did so, attempting to hide that you were shaking. You weren’t scared, but the things you were anticipating were terrible. The way you wanted him to fuck you until you were incapable of thinking or speaking.

“Touch yourself?”

Your hands immediately went to your breasts, uncaring of how cold your skin was. Your wedding ring, especially, something that never failed to make you smile whenever it brushed your skin. You pulled on your nipples hard, letting your head fall back as you moaned.

It was a few minutes of nothing but the whimpers that came from you, before he said, “Your shorts.”

Again, you obliged. Only, this time you did so with less haste because you weren’t wearing any underwear. You expected sex, that was always a given regardless of win or loss, but you hadn’t thought it would work out so perfectly.

You hadn’t heard him move closer so when he grabbed your ass, you startled. You reached back for him, but he took your wrists in his hands and set them back to your sides.

“Keep them there. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, okay?”

“I know,” you promised. “I always know.”

“I know sometimes I don’t take care of you like I should…I get lost in a case because I believe that’s the only way I will win. But I want you to know that nothing is more important to me than you. I could win a million cases, but it doesn’t mean a thing if I can’t come home to you after every single one.”

“Andy, there’s never been a second that I’ve ever doubted it. And I love you. You know that? I don’t care about the cases, I don’t care that sometimes you come to bed late or sometimes you’re distracted, you’re the best man I know and you’re just trying to help people.”

“I know you do, baby.” His arms wrapped around your waist and he set his chin to your shoulder. “I was thinking about you the entire time today.”

You smiled. “What were you thinking?”

“How badly I wanted to be inside you.”

“Because last night wasn’t enough?” It had to be quick, it had to be a lot of things. It wasn’t disappointing, he never was, but it seemed like it only left both of you wanting so much more. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that as encouragement to speed up whatever he was doing.

“I will never get enough of you, my love. You know, I have this awful fantasy… Wanna hear about it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s whenever I feel like I’m losing…like I’ve just made a mistake, and all I want is you laid out on the table before me. I want to watch you fuck your fingers until you can’t move, until you’re shaking and crying, begging me to get you off because you can’t do it anymore.”

“You want them all to watch?” you wondered.

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe I want them to hear the way you scream my name, the way you beg me to fuck you harder, when you ask me to choke you. I want them to see how wet I can get your pussy without even touching it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I want to fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you.”

You sighed longingly. That was your favorite part of Saturday mornings. Most of them were spent fucking and he loved coming inside you, loved making you stand up so he could see it trail down your thighs, or getting you down to your knees so he could see it on the floor after he finished in your mouth.

“Like the sound of that?”

You nodded.

“Then I’ll make you clean it off the table with your tongue.”

You tried not to blush, clearing your throat quietly. “The end?”

“Of that one,” he confirmed.

You turned up to him, a pleading look on your face. Andy rarely ever told you about the weird shit he thought of. It was always a relaxed progression and sometimes, you felt like he was holding back.

He smirked. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you some more.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“I know,” he assured. “You always are.”

You nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, ‘always’ was an exaggeration,” he scoffed.

“No, always.”

He kissed the pout off your face and took your chin in his hand to face you forward again. His palm trailed up your cheekbone and into your hair. As he pressed you into the wall, he angled your face so that your cheek was pinned there.

You shuddered when you felt the first smack across your ass. It was very light, more noise than anything else, but it was enough for you.

“This is another one,” he informed. “The idea of people watching you get so needy to be spanked. The things you say, the way your body moves because you need it so bad, how you cry because you want more. I want to bend you over that table and spank you for hours until your entire ass is red.”

You made a small pleading noise, pressing your hips back more. He understood immediately and repeated the hit on the opposite side. “Andy,” you whimpered. “Please.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for. You needed relief, you needed an answer. You had to know if he won or lost because you needed to act accordingly. You figured him not telling you in a straightforward way was just another way of either regaining or maintaining control.

You reached back without his permission, which you knew was pushing it, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your hands found the button of his pants and you indelicately tore them open. You pressed your palm up and down the length of his cock.

It took him a moment to recover but he swatted your hands away and yanked his pants down. His hands closed around your upper arms and he pulled them back, propping your chest up as he used his own body to press you completely into the wall. It was cold enough that you tried to squirm away, but he gave you no room to move.

“Andy,” you whimpered. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He slipped his arm between both of yours and your back, you couldn’t move and that was exactly what he wanted. He used his other hand to tease you with the head of his cock. He slid up and down your soaking cunt several times and when he finally pressed in, even though it was just a little, you shuddered.

“Ask for it, baby.”

“Please,” you choked out. “Please, please fuck me. Andy, please, I need you.”

He pushed in the rest of the way and you both moaned. It was humiliating how badly you needed this. Though, last night was different. He was stressed, you spent most of the time on his lap until he couldn’t take not being in control anymore and threw you down on the coffee table.

He let you adjust around him, all the while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. When you turned your head back slightly, he kissed your cheek and nudged your attention back to the wall with his nose. He placed one hand on the wall for some balance, set his chin on your shoulder, and slowly pulled out.

You let your forehead rest against the wall. “Fuck, Andy.”

His hips bucked forward and yours slammed into the wall. Perhaps this was potentially dangerous, perhaps not the best investment for your hips in the far future, but fuck, this was too good to suggest that he be gentler. Last thing you wanted.

As he found a steady pace, pulling out almost completely, and pushing back in as deep as he could, you couldn’t stop moaning. He had found that spot inside you and didn’t shy away from it. There would be no teasing tonight, just him fucking you until you couldn’t stand.

His hand on the wall slid down, catching your attention. You were sure he was about to reach for your neck, but instead, he placed it over your mouth to stifle your screams.

“I want them all to hear this, too,” he muttered in your ear. “How absolutely wet your pussy is for my cock.” You had never heard anything more obscene than when he would thrust back in, to the point where his body was flush against yours, the wet sound echoed and your cheeks burned but Andy truly seemed to love it. “And this sound,” he pulled his hips back at an agonizingly slow pace, “when your pussy is desperately trying to lock me inside because you know there’s no better feeling than my cock.”

You felt as though you currently had no control over your body. It always did what it pleased in reaction to Andy, but when he decided to take advantage of the desire you felt for him, that was enough to make even you blush. It wasn’t like being married to Andy left any room for modesty or even tradition. He was a creative and demanding man who wanted to explore you in every way he could imagine.

He kept you as quiet as he could, all while grunting in your ear. Normally, you were much louder than him and you could barely hear the sounds he made, now it was all you could hear. And you had been under the impression you couldn’t get wetter, but those deep sounds that you felt from his chest where he was pressed against you and his hot breath against your skin did something to you that you couldn’t explain.

He chanted your name when he was close and it was enough to give you a completely numbing orgasm. You knew Andy loved you, but sometimes you got so lost in your own pleasure that you weren’t sure where he stood. Andy had the complex job of reassuring you that he physically wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, he didn’t seem to mind having to do so. Actually, it seemed he enjoyed the creativity that was required.

You were shaking as he continued to pound into you at this agonizingly slow pace. He was never slow because he simply couldn’t make himself hold back, but that was no longer the case. You felt the tension in his body, you could feel his muscles moving, struggling to hold onto that admirable restraint that first attracted you to him. He let his hand move to your jaw and you instantly began blurting out his name, how much you loved him, how you just needed him to keep going, and pleaded for him to fill you with his cum.

When he did, he pressed his body flat over yours. You paid no mind to how uncomfortable your arms felt trapped between your bodies or how some of your bones were digging into the wall, you simply reveled in the feeling of him finishing inside you and the moans that poured from his open mouth.

His breaths were short and his chest was moving quickly. He stayed inside you while he was coming down, chin still laid on your shoulder, head now angled to rest against your hair. He continued to hold your arms back and your jaw in his hand, and now his thumb and fingers were moving, rubbing these delicate shapes into your cheeks. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” you echoed. It always gave you butterflies when he requested that. It was so simple, so sweet, so little. But his voice always told you that was all he needed. Andy was not a high maintenance husband, he just wanted to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

He pulled you from the wall and his hands roamed over every inch of your skin. He started with your hips, working up to your breasts where he grabbed them hard and pinched your nipples. He moved down your stomach to your pussy, spreading you with one hand when his other hand traced a soft, careful circle around your clit.

You rested back against him, sighing. “I love you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in encouragement. He kept you against him even as he began to walk back from the wall.

“I love you,” you repeated. “I love you.”

He turned you both around, moving toward the table while you continued to say it. It was awkward trying to walk with him still inside you and would have been impossible if not for his impressive length.

You had assumed he was going to bend you over and fuck you. That he would pull your hair, spank you, make you tell him how bad you wanted it. Nope, he wasn’t feeling predictable. It wasn’t like you ever minded Andy’s predictability, he still made your toes curl. In fact, you liked the stability of how he made love to you. You liked that he made the world outside just disappear with his insistence on taking care of you and letting you take care of him. However, that didn’t mean you would turn down anything else. You were always humiliatingly eager for whatever Andy wanted you to have.

He pulled out and took your arms once more, turning you to face him before he pushed you back onto the table. “Lie down.”

You were careful as you obliged, trying to keep the cum from dripping out of you. You gasped when he took your waist and yanked you down to the edge of the table.

He angled your hips up and you set your calves on top of his shoulders. He pushed in and then pulled out inch by inch, watching the entire time. His cock was covered in cum that he would have much preferred to see on you, so he took himself in his hand and spread what he could over your pussy and your thighs.

“Andy,” you said quietly.

His eyes flit up for a moment before his hand pressed down between your legs and his gaze followed.

“Andrew,” you huffed.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “Y/N?”

“What happened? With the case?” After what he just did, you would spend the rest of the night on your knees with your mouth around him if he wanted it. Normally, when he lost, he did.

“Number one rule, baby. We don’t talk about work here.”

“The table?”

“Well, we said the bedroom—”

“You said the bedroom—”

“But I’m fucking you here, so it still counts.” Before you could protest, he leaned over and kissed the center of your stomach.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond verbally, he merely kissed up the middle of your torso, between your breasts before veering off to the side. He gently kissed around your nipple, then swiped his tongue over it.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hand came up to tangle in his hair.

He repeated the same on the opposite breast before trailing up to your mouth. You loved kissing Andy. Sometimes, you would both spend the entire morning in bed just kissing. Hours. Just pressed against each other. Smiling. Laughing. Whispering against the other’s lips. It was also Andy’s favorite recovery activity. The quickest way to get him hard again.

He was resting on his forearm, opposite hand touching your face as his lips moved with yours. His kisses were long and breath-taking, just like the first time he kissed you and how he had been kissing you ever since. Sure, there were the chaste goodbye kisses, the moments when a kiss like this would result in both of you not wanting to separate even if the world was ending so you would have to keep them short and innocent, but most of the time, Andy acted like his job was to pour as much love into every kiss he gave you.

He broke away to touch his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your forehead, your nose. That was always how he liked to end it as he was stroking himself until he was ready to fuck you again.

He stood as he pressed into your asshole, eyes fixed on where your bodies connected.

Your back arched as your arms shot out to grab to the edges of the table. He was slow about it, you would even say cruel. He watched you with unconcealed smugness, a truly animalistic part of Andy enjoyed how much you enjoyed him fucking your ass. It was the noises you made, the tears that would fill your eyes because it was so good, the way you would press your body back further, wordlessly pleading for more. When he wouldn’t give in, you became impatient and bratty, and he loved having to put you back in your place.

He wouldn’t do it this time, however. He could tell you were too tired, too focused on him and the case. His hand found your center again where he rubbed your clit with just the tips of his fingers.

You were whimpering, your hips jumped, your legs pulled him in closer where they were still draped over his shoulders, you clawed at the table, possibly left some marks. This was always his goal, to get you so mindless and dependent on the things only he could make you feel, and it was an exhausting process, but you wouldn’t want anything else.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to your clit. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

With two fingers pressed flat, you began tracing sloppy circles over your pussy. You didn’t have the muscle control to focus on one small area at this point, but you caught your clit enough times to get yourself close.

He leaned over you, hands pressing down on either side of you as his hips picked up speed. His eyes were locked on yours, desperate to see that overly loving look you gave him every time he made you orgasm.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders, wrapping them around his torso. He couldn’t be slow anymore or even remotely controlled. His hands pushed you up the table as he crawled onto it as well. He practically collapsed on top of you, his hips driving into you so hard the table was starting to move just a little.

You pulled your hand away even though he didn’t tell you that you could and grabbed his shoulders. He pressed his body flat against yours so that his pelvis would rub against your clit with every thrust.

It had been so long since you left scratches on his back. He liked them, but you were sure they had to hurt, so you attempted to find other coping mechanisms. But then, it had been so long since he was this uncontrolled, and as your nails dragged down his skin, that only encouraged him.

The table squeaked against the hardwood floor, skin slapped skin, and moans and curses fell from his mouth. You were breathless, a scream caught in your throat while he coaxed you closer to a finish. Anywhere you touched him, you could feel his muscles moving, his back, his ass, his thighs.

He fucked you without his usual concern of possibly being too rough, he simply did not care in that moment. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. He kissed and bit over the parts of your breasts he could reach. His hands moved along your sides, fingers digging into your hips or pressing your thighs up further to open your body even more for him.

When you informed him you were close, he leveled himself to see your face. His brow was furrowed and it was fascinating to see the way the blue of his eyes moved. Not to sound like such a cliché, but it reminded you of waves in the ocean.

“Come on,” he panted, “I want to hear you begging.”

“Please, please, please.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself just a little closer to him. “Please, I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. “In your ass?”

You nodded frantically. “Please. Please come in my ass.”

His head dropped to the bend of your neck where he bit down rather hard to drown out the sound that followed his orgasm. You didn’t mind even though you knew there would be a mark, even though you knew your coworkers would eye you. No one was surprised anymore, they had this image of your husband as the sex-crazed lawyer, and in reality, were they wrong? Not exactly.

You were just seconds after him, wrapping yourself around him as tight as you could. You sobbed his name and about a million other incoherent things while he kissed around that tender spot that his teeth had just been, whispering how much he loved you and how good you were.

He pulled out and kissed you after you whimpered. He rolled over, lying flat on the table and bringing you up to his side. His fingers brushed through your hair and you both attempted to get your breathing back to normal.

You were silent, reveling in the feeling of his cum slipping from your ass down the back of your thighs. Your skin was sticky and you were sweating, your hair was sticking to your forehead and your back. You couldn’t have looked beautiful, but Andy still kissed the top of your head and claimed otherwise.

You turned your head up to him after you had both settled. “Did you lose?”

He scoffed. “You have such faith in me.”

“You’re the only person I have faith in. The jury? Well, any time you lose, they’re morons.”

He smiled. “I guess they were smart this time.”

You lifted yourself onto your forearms. “You won? Baby, you should have told me! I baked a billion cookies, but…we should celebrate! I can make a reservation, we could go—”

He took a handful of your hair and pulled your mouth against his for a slow kiss. He was the one who broke away, just to see that dumb look on your face whenever he surprised you with a kiss. “We did just celebrate.”

“No, I want to do something special for you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

You realized exactly where his mind was going, the last place you had suspected. Really, you should know better by now. “What other boxes do you want to check? You’ve tied me up. You’ve bent me over a Paris balcony. You’ve fucked me everywhere in this house. You’ve fucked me in the car. My childhood bedroom in my parent’s house.”

“I have a long list of all the things I still want to do to you.”

“So, tell me what you want.”

He leaned up and kissed your nose. “Let’s clean up and order some food, I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes as you watched him get off the table. “And was ‘list’, like, a figure of speech? Or do you have a physical list?”

He hesitated a moment before glancing back at you.

It was totally an existing list that he had hidden somewhere and suddenly, you wanted it more than anything else in the world. “I will burn this house to the ground if that’s what I need to do to find that list, Andrew.”

He snorted. “Well, good luck because you will never find it.”

#andy barber x reader #always accepting andy requests just fyi #my writing

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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A Natural: Part 5

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 05/24/2020

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 1,906

A/N: Oh look, another series that was never supposed to be a series. And I had to pick a new series gif because it wouldn’t show up.

Taehyung woke you up gently, pressing kisses to your cheeks, nose and forehead.

You sighed and stretched. “Mmm, what time is it?”

“Seven,” He whispered, tilting your chin slightly so he could kiss your lips. “You said you wanted to get there early.”

You nodded. “It’s his first day of physical therapy. He was scared. Jin send any updates?”

“Haven’t checked. You okay?” He asked, feeling your forehead.

“Just tired. Always tired. I wish there was a miracle cure that I could give him. Or that I could take his pain and he could continue to be my rambunctious baby.” You buried your face in his shoulder, sighing in frustration.

The past three weeks had been exhausting. You couldn’t recall a single night where you felt like you went to bed with some scrap of mental, emotional, or physical strength. They had woken Theo up about a week and a half after he was admitted, and he had taken it well since he was still so groggy. But you hardly left his side for the first three days. The only reason you left on the fourth was because of work. You had to pay for the medical bills somehow. Now they were thinking he was healed enough to start some very minor physical therapy. He didn’t have feeling from about mid-shin down, but his brain had healed well. The doctors didn’t think there was any lasting damage now. He got the casts off of his legs and his collarbone was healed, so they were really happy with how he was recovering so far.

Taehyung spent most of his days at the hospital, and Jin and Jimin alternated nights to help you two out.

Yoongi bought you lunch most days, and visited Theo on the weekends. Bringing movies to binge and board games to play.

Theo always perked up when Yoongi got there on Saturday morning.

Namjoon brought Hoseok whenever the two didn’t have too much work, and he would bring in music stuff—instruments or tracks—to entertain Theo.

Theo loved Namjoon’s music visits, just as he loved music class the most.

Hoseok still had to catch up on some grading, and recovering his class from a week with a substitute teacher on top of his own bit of physical therapy for his leg injury. He still obviously felt guilty, but he also helped Theo learn things he was missing in class. He had told you that the kids would ask after Theo, and they even sent in get-well-soon cards.

Theo kept saying he couldn’t wait to go back to school.

Jimin drew cartoons on Theo’s casts before they were removed and Theo loved them so much that he insisted Jimin teach him how to draw, and now there were drawings everywhere.

Taehyung kissed your collarbone. “Hey, you okay?”

“Just…waking up.” You curled into him.

He chuckled sleepily. “No, you’re not.”

“Are you telling me that you’re awake?”

He gave a sleepy sounding hum. “Not really, but I know we need to get up.”

You nodded, yawning into his chest and then rolling away from him and getting up in one movement.

“Hey, Jimin texted me to call him,” Taehyung said, frowning at his phone.

You sighed. “It probably has something to do with his parents. You better call him.”

He made an almost growling sound at the mention of Jimin’s parents—who had been a continual pain in the ass through this whole process—but he calls Jimin.

You don’t pay attention much while he talks to Jimin, getting ready for the day, and only noticing that something was wrong when Taehyung growls again.

He’s pacing along his side of the bed, not saying anything but there’s a steady growl in his throat. “He starts his therapy today!”

You flinch when he scoffs, and worry fills you at the frown creasing his forehead.

“What am I supposed to tell Y/n, Jiminie?!”

“I’d suggest the truth if you want everyone to live,” You said, eyes narrowed.

He looked up and gulped. “Can I make him explain it?”

You were already in front of him, taking the phone. “What’s going on?”

“My parents…they caused a scene here and the doctors decided to reschedule his physical therapy…since my parents ordered a DNA test.” Jimin sounded apologetic.

“What do they expect to get from a DNA test?” You asked, feeling bile rise in your throat.

“I don’t know, but I’m on top of it, they won’t make a move I don’t know about. I’ll stay with him all day, okay?”

“Jimin, why did they order a DNA test?”

He was quiet, and you heard him huff out a breath. “Because they want to see if he’s actually who we claim and maybe add him to their will if he is,” He said, sounding frustrated.

“Which means they’d try to take him away from me?”

“Possibly. If you didn’t want to comply with their standards.”

“Which I won’t.” You glared at the wall. “Your family sucks.”

“I know. It’s probably better if you stay away, though, that’ll delay things because they need your permission to do the DNA testing.”

You froze. “But—”

“I’ll keep her away,” Tae said, loud enough to be heard, and taking the phone. “Call us if Theo needs her.”

You stared in disbelief as he said goodbye to Jimin and then hung up.

He looked back at you. “It’s for the best, anyway. You’re exhausted.”

“I can’t sleep, not now,” You argued.

“There’s more than just physical exhaustion,” He rebutted, then leaned in and kissed you. “He’s safe with friends. Yoongi will be there later today, with Namjoon and Jimin, just like they planned and they’ll play games with Theo.”

“I barely ever there—”

“You practically live there,” He cut you off with a whine. “Please, I know you’re tired. I know. It’s been a really hard month. But Theo’s being looked after really well. All of the nurses adore him because he’s so sweet and polite. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

You tilted your head, at a loss for words.

He stepped closer, and arms wrapping around your waist after he tossed the phone onto the bed. His lips met yours softly. “It’s time to forget you’re a mom for a few minutes. Just…be you. Be who you were before you were a mom.”

“I don’t know who that is,” You whispered.

“Then just be the person you are with me,” He whispered back, voice low and deep.

You sighed and surrendered to him, allowing him to pull you into a series of lingering kisses.

“Dress up a bit, lets go out.” He murmured, tail swooshing behind him. “Or, well…let’s go for a picnic.”

You stepped back slightly, uncertain.

“Please, Y/n. We both need to let go for a while.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And you gave in, nodding. “Okay, but…I don’t know…I don’t want to deal with other people.”

“Then we’ll have a picnic in the backyard. You get ready, and I’ll go get things set up and then if you could make us sandwiches?”

You nodded.

“Then we’ll have a nice little date,” He said, grinning at you as his fingers brushed your cheek. Then his shoulders scrunched happily with his face and he practically skipped out of the room. “Remember, wear pretty clothes!”

“O-okay…” You called back, then frowned at your closet door. “I don’t know if I have anything?”

You went into your closet, looking for something pretty that was also middling between casual and Easter Sunday high teas that you used to go to at your grandmother’s senior home while she was alive.

Instead you found frustration and work clothes. Some clothes you might wear to parent-teacher conferences, or to one of the school events.

But the only date-like thing you found in your closet was from before Theo was conceived and you weren’t about to try that on. You knew how your body had changed since then and didn’t need the reminder from your closet. You’d sort of squeezed into it the last time you’d worn it anyway, and you had more hip now.

Sure, you probably had more clothes in that box, but you knew most of the clothes in ther

Taehyung came back when you had been in there for too long. “What’s wrong?”

“No clothes,” You muttered. “Nothing to wear.”

He tilted his head, then came over to look through your clothes. He pulled out a sweater and a skirt, handing them to you. “It’s a little cold outside, so maybe leggings?”

You looked over the outfit and then at him, surprised. “Um…yeah…okay.”

He nodded and walked out. “I’ll make sandwiches!”

You heard your bedroom door close, and started changing. You were surprised at how well he managed to find an outfit for you, but then again, he dressed so well himself, even on a minimal budget.

And it was a nice, casual date outfit.

You did your hair a little, and your makeup a little more. Actually put on earrings and a necklace.

Taehyung was plating sandwiches, making things look nice.

You looked outside in surprise. “It’s raining?”

He looked out as well. “Yeah. It just started. But we can still have a picnic. It’ll just have to be a living room picnic. I already cleared the space and….” He trailed off when he looked at you. His expression softened and he smiled. “Wow, y/n. You look so beautiful.”

You could have blushed, and you might have blushed from the way he was looking at you. “It’s been a while.”

“You always look beautiful,” He added, sincerity in all of his features and gestures. He took your hands in his, tail slowly swishing. “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me.”

You nodded, looking at the ground, unable to meet his gaze.

“Ooh, can I put a fire in the fireplace?”

You nodded again, stealing glanced at him as he excitedly went to turn on the gas fireplace.

Then he dimmed the lights some, and finished arranging blankets and pillows.

“Alright, I think that covers it, sorry we’re only having sandwiches.”

“I can live with sandwiches,” You replied softly, letting him lead you over to sit in the picnic area. You got comfortable while he hurried back to get the plate of sandwiches. You didn’t know your living room could feel so romantic.

He brought over the food and drinks on the bed-tray, setting it down. “It’s just grape juice, but I thought the glasses made it feel more romantic.”

You smiled. “Does. I didn’t even know the living room could look like this.”

He grinned. “We should make it look like this more often.”

You laughed a little.

He kept your laughing a little as the two of you ate, telling you stories and drawing stories of your family out.

You moved the tray and sat beside him, leaning on his shoulder.

He was still for a moment before relaxing into it. He kissed your forehead, then kept telling you about a movie he had seen.

You stared into the fire, listening to his voice. It was so soothing, so wonderfully perfect.

His lips met yours softly, then parted to lightly brush your cheeks. “I love you, y/n.”

You sighed happily, eyes staying shut. “I love you, Taehyung.”

Previous. Next.

Taehyung Masterpost. Masterlist.

Taglist (must comment on taglist to be tagged from now on)

Tagging: @rosita7703, @ephemeral-mindset @forvever-ddaeng @ncttzuuy @givebuckysomelove @alex--awesome--22 @missmoxxiesworld @bryvada @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @young-yellkie @veryuniquenamegoeshere @lottohsehunnie @briramirezalipio

Unable to tag: @bunnyboyenthusiast (think you changed to @kthstrawberryshortcake please let me know if I’m wrong or right because I have you listed for multiple stories)

#single mom reader #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts v #reader x taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid!taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!bts #bts #bts fic #bts x reader #adoptedfather!taehyung #parent au #a natural fic

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ayuuria · 4 years

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Yashahime Translation: VV Magazine December 2020 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Interview with Matsumoto Sara

On VVM (VV Magazine) is voice actress, Matsumoto Sara, who plays the role of Higurashi Towa in the anime that started on October 3 on Yomiuri TV/Nippon TV channel, “Hanyō no Yashahime” (Every Saturday evening at 5:30pm~ *Some areas excluded)! What is the charm of this current work that depicts the efforts of the three daughters (Towa = voice: Matsumoto, Setsuna = voice: Komatsu Mikako, Moroha = voice: Tadokoro Azusa) of Sesshōmaru and Inuyasha, who appeared in Takahashi Rumiko sensei’s famous work “Inuyasha”? What do you keep in mind as you play a character who crosses over time and rampages left and right with the modern and feudal eras as her stage? What was your state of mind the moment you got specifically selected to play the role of Towa? We will be going behind-the-scenes of the new “Inuyasha world”!

Matsumoto: My name is Matsumoto Sara. Please treat me well today!

Ikeuchi: I am Ikeuchi Shinji of the Village Vanguard (abbreviated VV going forward) P strategic division. Please treat me well today.

VVM: This page is a specialty corner of this small magazine where we try to interview the person that the lucky staff members selected from the approximately 350 stores that VV maintains across the country, have said that they want to meet… This time, we specially had Ikeuchi-san from VV headquarters come as he is a big fan of not only the “Inuyasha” series of course, but Takahashi Rumiko-sensei as well.

Ikeuchi: I was part of the generation that read the “Inuyasha” manga in real time. Furthermore, I’m basically a big big big fan of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei so I took advantage of this opportunity and came today (laughs).

Matsumoto: I’m deeply honored!

Ikeuchi: No no, I am truly honored as well! Of course, I enjoy watching “Hanyō no Yashahime”, so just being able to meet a voice actor who takes part in a work that I love makes me happy.

Matsumoto: Thank you very much!

Ikeuchi: With that, regarding “Hanyō no Yashahime”. First, could you tell us what was going through your mind when it was decided that you would be cast in a work that continues the world of a big hit history work that makes someone from a generation like mine fired up?

Matsumoto: First I thought “No way!”. I was shaking. I had asked my manager over the phone in a corner of the train station building near the recording studio and I jumped for joy there (laughs).

Ikeuchi: It seems you auditioned, so you find out the results over the phone I see.

Matsumoto: I contact my manager via phone, email, and other different means, but so far good news tends to come over the phone (laughs). I knew that news had arrived regarding “Hanyō no Yashahime” and I was just in the middle of recording. I was always looking at an accent dictionary on my smartphone when recording. Then the screen suddenly flashed, and my manager’s name popped up.

Ikeuchi: You wanted to call back as soon as possible!

Matsumoto: That’s right. However, I really held myself back until after the recording was over. At this point, many days had passed since the audition so I thought “Could it be…” and when I called back at the station building near the studio, they said “You got the part!”

Ikeuchi: That’s going to be a memorable station building.

Matsumoto: Yes! (laughs)

VVM: Though you explained it on your blog, it seems you were not allowed to tell anyone that you passed until the day of the announcement?

Matsumoto: The only person I told was my older sister who I live with. I recorded a voice sample for the “Hanyō no Yashahime” audition during the self-quarantine period but it seems my sister overheard it. She said, “You seem to be saying Sesshōmaru this and Sesshōmaru that next door” (laughs). It seems she figured it out somewhat.

Ikeuchi: She probably thought “Maybe it’s an audition related to “Inuyasha”” (laughs)

Matsumoto: That’s how she found out. Hence, I told her “I passed that thing”. Then my sister rejoiced too.

VVM: The information was released on August 7th. This was the first lead role in your career so I’m sure your family was overjoyed.

Matsumoto: Everyone told me “Congrats! ~” “Do you best~”. I have a relative who’s an avid fan of Rumiko-sensei, so they lamented “Why didn’t you tell me~!” (laughs). When that person told me previously “It looks like they’re going to do a new “Inuyasha” story”, I had already auditioned but I couldn’t even tell them that. I really had to suppress the urge to tell them.

Ikeuchi: I’m also a big fan, so I totally understand how they felt (laughs).

VVM: Was there already social distancing at the audition?

Matsumoto: Yes. Normally you meet a lot of people at the audition site (studio), but I auditioned alone. That’s why I don’t know what type and how many people auditioned.

VVM: Thus, you passed with flying colors and apparently during the first recording, sound director, Nagura Yasushi, advised you that “You don’t need to make her so boyish” or something like that?

Matsumoto: Nagura-san gives me all sorts of advice, but he really places importance on Towa being a girl.

VVM: Was there a reason you were leaning more towards boyishness?

Matsumoto: When I submitted the voice sample, I only had the character design and setting document, so I didn’t know the character’s personality or details.

Ikeuchi: Do you fill in the missing information yourself?!

Matsumoto: Yes. I thought over a lot of things like the meaning of a girl in boyish pants… Or that it’s written Sesshōmaru’s daughter, but her surname is Higurashi… the result was a pretty strong toned voice sample. I was told “You passed” with that so I went into the recording with that and I was advised “You don’t need to make her boyish”.

Ikeuchi: What was the intent?

Matsumoto: She’s simply a 14-year-old middle school girl who grew up in the modern era so she’s not really conscious of things like her strength in fights or the blood relation to her parents. It’s possible that by going to the feudal era and getting involved with Setsuna and Moroha, she becomes conscious of that side of herself. That’s why I think they wanted me to be aware that at the beginning, Towa is just a normal girl.

Ikeuchi: I see. Now that you mention it, at the beginning, Towa was the only one who didn’t have any experience in battle. Even in episode 3, she didn’t land the finishing blow.

Matsumoto: She gets into fights but she’s never experienced defeating demons so when I think about things like “I wonder if by chance the part of her that’s Sesshōmaru’s daughter will awaken?”, “How is she going to change?”, or “I wonder if she’s going to become cool?”, I get excited. But there’s a part of me that’s a little unsure if I’ll be able to express that well (laughs).

VVM: Two months have passed since broadcasting began; what sort of girl do you think Towa is now?

Matsumoto: She looks cool as there are visuals that make her look like a boy, but I think she has a surprisingly absentminded side to her (laughs).

Ikeuchi: Although I can feel Towa’s kindness and strong heart from your voice, do you have any difficulty balancing that aspect?

Matsumoto: While I leave the character balancing to the directors, even if I think about my acting at home, I won’t know until I sync up with Komatsu Mikako, who plays Setsuna, and Tadokoro Azusa, who plays Moroha, so that’s where it gets difficult.

Ikeuchi: Like what sort of acting will the other person do?

Matsumoto: That’s right. There are times where the act I’ve prepared takes a 180-degree turn, so I put 120% into my real time acting for each situation.

Ikeuchi: Starting from Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha, each of the three different characters have voices that really suit them.

Matsumoto: The tone of voice for all three of them isn’t very high, so there’s an aspect where I feel they’re all similar. Especially when it comes to serious lines. However, when listening to it, this might be strange to say, but the “shade” of the voice is different like the mellowness, so while the voices overlap, I think there’s differentiation between the characters. (translator’s note: I’m not positive about this sentence).

Ikeuchi: Towa and Setsuna are twins, so I think that the part where they’re a little “similar” makes them realistic.

Matsumoto: Thank you. After episode 3, there are more scenes where Towa and Setsuna poke comments at Moroha, so sometimes sound director Nagura (Yasushi) tells us our voices sound the same. Apparently, there are times where they sound like one person, so I consulted with Setsuna’s voice actress, Komatsu Mikako, and changed my tone.

Ikeuchi: What sort of conversations do you have with Komatsu-san and Tadokoro-san?

Matsumoto: We talk about acting of course, but the three of us love “Inuyasha” and we were able to take part in “Hanyō no Yashahime”, so we fan talk like “I wonder if that demon from that time was…?” or “This was in “Inuyasha” too right?” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: What about personally? (translator’s note: Like in private life)

Matsumoto: The three of us made a group chat in LINE and we communicate there. For example, after I watched episode 1 prior to airing, I messaged them like “Did you see episode 1? It was amazing!!”. Then Komatsu-san responded “Ooo, I’ll watch I’ll watch!”. Tadokoro-san responded with “It would be a waste so I’m going to watch it on air!”.

Ikeuchi: To fans, that’s an incredibly extravagant group chat!

Matsumoto: It’s only been two months since episode 1 but the three of us are already close and we always hype on recording day.

Ikeuchi: Are the three of you in the recording booth together?

Matsumoto: The staff made distancing considerations so that the three of us could record together. There are a lot of scenes with the three of them, so as of now the three of us mostly record together.

VVM: Has Takahashi Rumiko-sensei ever come to watch the recording or said anything to you before?

Matsumoto: When recording first started, it was during a situation where meetings were being done remotely, so I didn’t have opportunities to meet not only Rumiko-sensei of course, but the other cast members as well. However, the other day when I went to the limited time “Inuyasha” Café that opened in Shibuya PARCO with director Satō Teruo and the other “Hanyō no Yashahime” cast members, Rumiko-sensei was there! I greeted her with “I am Matsumoto Sara, the role of Higurashi Towa!”

Ikeuchi: I’m genuinely envious of you! Since she doesn’t make very many appearances on TV and such, her existence is so far away that you wonder if she really exists…

Matsumoto: It was deeply emotional. Pardon me for saying this but I was also moved like “She’s really here…”. She was like a god to me when I was a child.

VVM: Did you have any sort of conversation with her?

Matsumoto: I heard that the cast and staff of the “Inuyasha” anime went on trips together every year since the broadcasting. I was moved that they still communicate with each other even now after 20 years since the broadcast. When I think about how I get to participate in a part of this work that sensei cherishes so much, my body tenses up.

Ikeuchi: Actually, to celebrate the broadcasting of “Hanyō no Yashahime”, VV is also releasing “Hanyō no Yashahime” merchandise in which the actual animator drew the illustration… (shows a rough sketch drawn in pencil)

Matsumoto: What?! That’s amazing!! The side profile (face) feels fresh.

Ikeuchi: This will be used as the cover for VVM and such.

Matsumoto: I’m so happy that you would publish it in such a magazine!

Ikeuchi: Not at all, the pleasure is ours!

Matsumoto: (while looking at the picture) It really is the world of “Hanyō no Yashahime”! I look forward to the colored VVM cover!

VVM: We would like to have you trace your memories back a little here, but we would like to ask you what made you become a voice actress and what kind of girl were you when you were Towa’s age (14)?

Matsumoto: When I was 14 years old huh… I was in an all-girls middle school for three years, so I never really interacted with boys the same grade as me. Hence, I grew up in a world of only girls. It was a classroom permeating with the characteristic emotions of girls going through adolescence (laughs) and I think I learned all sorts of things like how to interact with people. Until then, part of my personality was that I was somewhat too conscious of things and I casually learned to “let go”. (translator’s note: it literally said “抜く” in quotes which directly translates to “to remove or pull out”. It can also translate to fap… honestly this can go in any direction so interpret this as you will lmao)

Ikeuchi: In addition, during adolescence did you ever go to VV?

Matsumoto: I’m from Chiba prefecture and I always went to the nearby VV. I bought presents at VV when it was someone’s birthday.

Ikeuchi: Thank you very much!

Matsumoto: After becoming an adult, I went to buy a towel with a meat pattern on it. I bought a lot and went about giving them to people who’ve taken care of me (laughs).

Ikeuchi: The meat towel! It’s been popular ever since it went on sale (*unfortunately it is sold out at this time)

VVM: Around when did you start aiming to become a voice actress?

Matsumoto: In my elementary school graduation anthology, I wrote that “I want to become a voice actor”!

Both: Whaat, Wow!

Ikeuchi: So since elementary school?

Matsumoto: I was good at drawing when I was in elementary, so apparently my parents and relatives thought I would go towards the design route. That’s when my friend told me about the work of voice acting. They said they wanted to be a voice actor. Influenced by that, I said “I’ll become one too!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: Have to thank your friend for that then.

Matsumoto: Yes. For me, I wanted to become a manga artist since I was good at drawing, but thanks my friend, I learned that there was a world where you act with your voice.

VVM: What did you want to be during middle school?

Matsumoto: Around the end of middle school, I suddenly thought “I want to do acting!”. I looked at the notices for acting schools that are usually on the back of magazines and I thought “I don’t really get it, but I have a feeling I can do this!” (laughs). Then I spoke with my parents.

Ikeuchi: What did your parents say?

Matsumoto: My parents made a living with music to begin with, so they understood. They were basically like “If that’s what you want to do, then why not give it a try?”. So they let me go to (acting) school and as I learned about acting and singing, I vaguely began to think “I want to work in this field in the future”.

Ikeuchi: From there, why did you choose voice acting?

Matsumoto: By the time I was a high schooler, I had done several auditions but for some reason my (acting school) teacher brought a lot of voice work. Then I suddenly remembered how in elementary school I made a big deal about “I want to be a voice actor!”. I thought of voice acting as one way of acting.

Ikeuchi: How did you ultimately decide what path to take?

Matsumoto: The moment I decided my path. Until then, I had thought about going to a 4-year university that was known for theatre, but my mother told me “Going to university doesn’t mean you’ll be able to do acting all the time?”. I realized that that wasn’t quite right. I want to think about acting all the time!

VVM: Indeed, a university would mean that you would have general study plus theatre study.

Matsumoto: It’s a no brainer but the only thing in my head was “Acting!” “Voice Actor!” so my thought process was genuinely “I want to do acting = a university with a theatre department!”. Ultimately, I went to the vocational school I graduated from.

VVM: Tokyo Announce Gakuin correct?

Matsumoto: Yes. By that time, I had decided “I’ll definitely become a voice actor!”. My parents also pushed me saying “If you’re going to go to that kind of a vocational school, you better become a pro!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: That’s how your dream came true.

Matsumoto: Yes. I’m truly happy.

Ikeuchi: Your friend who told you about voice actors, your parents, your (acting school) teacher… through all those different encounters, you were guided down the path of a voice actor.

Matsumoto: I’m grateful of the fact that I have a job doing something I enjoy, but this time I got a big role in a work that’s connected to “Inuyasha” which I have loved for a long time. I’m truly thankful to the people I met.

VVM: Before you became a voice actress, which works of anime did you like and influenced you aside from “Inuyasha”?

Matsumoto: When I was little, I enjoyed “Card Captor Sakura” that was being broadcasted on NHK. There was also the one-hour time slot of “Inuyasha”, of course, and “Detective Conan” (Nippon TV). Then there was the one-hour time slot of “Hikaru no Go” and “Prince of Tennis” (TV Tokyo). “Chibi Maruko-chan” and “Sazae-san”. I loved “One Piece” and “Kochi Kame (Kochira Katsushika-ku Kameari Kōen-mae Hashutsujo)” (Fuji TV) so I watched them all the time. Not only do I remember the details of the works I watched back then but I still like them as well. Ever since I started making my own money, I’ve been repurchasing the original mangas.

VVM: On your blog, you recently wrote that you went to see “Princess Mononoke” at the theater, so do you like Ghibli works?

Matsumoto: I love Ghibli works and while I had a lot of VHS movies back home, “Princess Mononoke” was rescreened in June of this year so I went to watch it. I came to understand parts that I didn’t get as a child and once again thought it was an amazing work.

VVM: It was first shown in 1997. The content is a little difficult for a child to understand isn’t it?

Matsumoto: Now that I think about, this a little off tangent but at the time, my mother went to watch the movie and showed me the pamphlet. On the cover was the scene where the heroine, San, was sucking out blood from Moro’s wound.

VVM: It’s a well-known scene on posters and such.

Matsumoto: I thought the blood around San’s mouth was dirt. I remember thinking “We have to hurry and wipe the dirt off that girl’s mouth!” and scrubbing it.

Ikeuchi: (laughs) What happened to the dirt?

Matsumoto: I scrubbed too hard and tore a hole in it (laughs). I’m sorry, this was really off tangent!

VVM: (laughs) It would be great if you could make an appearance in a Ghibli work.

Matsumoto: Ever since I decided to become a voice actor, I always had the thought of “I want to be in Ghibli movie!” in my heart, so I definitely want to make that come true!

Ikeuchi: Speaking of movie theater, getting a little ahead but I want to see a movie edition of “Hanyō no Yashahime” just like “Inuyasha”!

Matsumoto: Absolutely! I also want to see Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha, in action on the big screen!! If we could see the parents and children fighting together at the movie theater… Aah~ just thinking about it makes the corner of my eyes heat up. Ever since I got the role of Towa, I’ve been hoping myself “Please let this happen!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: We fans wish for that too!

VVM: Recently, you declared on your blog “I’ve become able to keep my word!” so please make this a reality!

Matsumoto: (laughs) Okay, we will do our best!

VVM: Alright then, lastly please tell us your goals for 2021!

Matsumoto: Let’s see, I don’t know if this will be possible until the world becomes more stable, but I would love to interact with “Hanyō no Yashahime” fans around the world. “Inuyasha” is popular worldwide so I get supportive messages in all sorts of languages on my twitter. Among them are people who comment using translation tools so I would like to meet everyone directly… even if meeting directly isn’t possible, I would like to talk to everyone in some way. This is what I think of “Hanyō no Yashahime”. I like this character. Anything is fine so I would love to hear them.

VVM: What about in your personal life?

Matsumoto: I want to move. I live with my older sister but because the state of the world has changed this past year and me becoming busy with “Hanyō no Yashahime”, we’ve had a few problems arise… The biggest problem is our bath times overlap. I say that but I do get along with my sister, so maybe living in the same apartment complex but in different units like the Asagaya Sisters (laughs). I’d like to talk with her and find the best possible solution!

Ikeuchi: Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule today!

Matsumoto: Thank you as well! I look forward to seeing both the “Hanyō no Yashahime” cover issue and article. Please support “Hanyō no Yashahime” next year as well!

#Yashahime #Hanyō no Yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

Text

The Confession

Part 27 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian spend more time in the hospital talking

Word Count: 2,621

Warnings: Brief mentions of abortion & suicide, not an accurate timeline of medical recovery

God, you hated sleeping in hospitals. Mostly because sleep was impossible. It seemed like as soon as you finally fell asleep, a nurse was waking you to take your vitals.

“Sorry to wake you, just gotta check on some things,” a nurse you’d never seen before woke you quietly.

Seb shifted behind you, arms tightening until he was awake enough to process what was going on. He grunted something that could have resembled words, had he been more awake. As it was, he sounded like a caveman as he slipped from the bed to the chair. Once the nurse completed her quick exam, he wasted no time in returning to his place beside you, this time under the covers.

“It’s useless to try and convince you to go home and get some actual sleep in an actual bed, right?”

“Right,” he replied, curling his body around yours even more. As much as you hated to admit it, it made you feel better. Not good, because you doubted you could ever feel good about what you’d done, but having him hold you so tight seemed to calm your nerves that had begun to fray during your fight on Saturday.

Once Seb set his mind to something, you knew he didn’t give up. After all, that was what had gotten you into this predicament in the first place. Had he not set his mind to flying you out to New York to meet Doctor Helen Sharpe, you’d probably be back in Utah, living out the last few weeks of your life.

But here you were: cancer free.

And now he’d set his mind to riding out whatever your relationship with him would turn into. He found out he truth about your past and he was still here, holding you.

Maybe it was that reminder, but you found that you were able to fully relax into his arms, even going so far as to twine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand once before he went lax at your back, falling back asleep.

“It’s like Skip-Bo on steroids,” you explained to Brenda the next day.

She sat on the other side of the table that Sebastian had acquired from somewhere in the hospital. “I haven’t played Skip-Bo in ages.”

“You’ll catch on quick. So, in my version of Nerts, everyone gets their own Rook deck. Each deck has a mark on the back to distinguish it from the others. There are no turns; everybody just goes for it.” You finished explaining the rules, then started playing. When you’d taught Seb a few months ago, it had just been the two of you and he was surprised at how much crazier it was by just adding one person.

By the time Brenda had to get back to her rounds, you’d played six hands and she was beating both you and Seb.

Shuffling your deck, you rolled your eyes. “I hate it when you teach someone a new game and they’re better at it than you are in less than an hour.”

“You literally just had brain surgery. I’m pretty sure you weren’t on your A-Game.”

“Okay, but I have a friend who refuses to play Nerts with me because he hates losing every single time, so this just feels wrong, brain surgery or not. It’s not fair at all.”

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.”

“Don’t I know it,” you mumbled while wrapping a rubber band around your Rook deck.

He glanced at the shut door and took a deep breath. The light-hearted atmosphere in the room dissipated. “Hey Y/N, I’ve been wondering… Your dad died in a house fire. You were at Jasmin’s house all night. How did you… How could you have…”

“How’d I do it? Kill him?” He nodded at your blunt words and you sat back, thinking of the shortest way to say it. “I got home from school and he told me that mom had been arrested for public intoxication or something and that he was going to use this time without her to, uh beat her bad genes out of me.” As if those were the genes that needed to be beaten out. “And, I don’t know. I guess I just snapped. Eliza had been gone for years, so she wouldn’t be hurt. Mom was locked up and couldn’t show up and get hurt either… So, later that night he passed out on the couch and…”

You took a deep breath and looked away from him, focusing on the door to the bathroom. You’d never said these words aloud before. Jasmin and your sister never asked how you did it. They never asked why you did it. They just took you at your word and let it be.

“I spilled the rest of his whiskey on his shirt and the couch then lit a cigarette and put it between his fingers. Grabbed my backpack and walked the few blocks to Jasmin’s house. Our neighbor reported the fire half an hour later.”

“So you didn’t kill him. Not really.”

“Indirectly,” you challenged, looking straight at him again.

“Indirectly, huh?” He sat forward in his chair, elbows on knees, and trained his eyes right on yours. “Is that how you killed the person after your dad? You said you killed someone before him and after. You consider the abortion to be the first person you killed right? So…”

You grabbed Brenda’s deck of Rook cards and started shuffling them, holding Seb’s gaze. “You seem to know more than I do, so why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you blame yourself for your mother’s death.” You flinched, finally breaking eye contact. Unfortunately, Sebastian kept talking. “And judging by that reaction, I hit the nail right on the head.”

“She loved my dad,” you whispered. “I don’t understand it, not with what he did to us, but she did. Then I killed him and… I guess she didn’t have anything left to live for.”

The hum of medical machinery and faint chatter from the hall filled the air until Sebastian processed your words. Softly, so softly, he reached across the table with an open hand and waited until you gave in and reluctantly placed your hand in his. His blue eyes seared into yours. “I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what happened. I never knew your mom, but… what if you’re looking at it the wrong way?”

“I killed my dad, and a few months later my mom killed herself. That’s not coincidence, Seb.”

“I’m not saying it is.” His agreement surprised you. “I’m just saying, maybe her motivation wasn’t love for your father.”

“Then what is it?”

“Maybe she stayed alive so long because of you. Because she wanted to protect you from him as much as she could. And as soon as he was gone… she didn’t have that responsibility. She knew you could take care of yourself and she just… couldn’t go on. And she didn’t have to go on.”

That… couldn’t be it. She wasn’t a strong person. She couldn’t have protected you from him any more than you could have stopped him.

But you hadn’t considered that side of the argument before. Either way, his death had caused hers. But, if Seb was right… Then you’d given her the peace of mind she needed to finally let go. She was a shell of a person by the end and while you wish she hadn’t died, you couldn’t blame her for it. Picking yourself up after years and years of an abusive marriage had to be so fucking difficult, and she just wasn’t strong enough.

“Think about it, okay?” Sebastian said a minute later. While you were still reeling from this new view on your past, he gently ushered you towards the recliner in the corner of the room and pulled you onto his lap. With his arms around you and Brooklyn 99 playing on his phone, it wasn’t long before your post-surgery exhaustion took over and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you were sleeping, but when you woke up, the room was darker as the sun was falling behind the skyline. Seb’s chest was rumbling under your ear as he spoke quietly into his phone

“Nah, mom, the hospital food isn’t so bad. I’m sure when Y/N wakes up, she’ll be on me to go take a shower and I’ll grab some real food on my way back.” His mom replied on the other end of the call, but you couldn’t make out any words. All that you could feel was his hand rubbing up and down your arm and his chest rising with each breath he took. “She’s doing well. Better than I expected after brain surgery… No, I’m not sugar-coating it. She’s fine, medically speaking. I swear. It’s just that some personal shit came up and it’s eating her up… Of course, I am, mom. Why do you think I haven’t gone home to shower? Yeah, love you too. I’ll let you know when we can fly out and you can finally meet her.”

He hung up and tossed his phone over onto the bed before shifted just enough to somehow curl around you even more. He pressed his lips to your hairline. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

“Is it morning?” you rasped, throat dry. It didn’t surprise you that he knew you were awake. After all, you’d been sleeping in the same bed as him for weeks now. You knew each other’s habits well enough by now to be able to read body language.

“Evening, actually. But time doesn’t really exist in hospitals.”

“Mmm,” you agreed. This time it was you who shifted, pulling back just enough to tilt your head up to his. “How’s your mom doing?”

“Great. Excited to meet you once you’re cleared to fly.”

“Mmm,” you hummed neutrally, eyes drifting away from his face to focus on the far wall.

“And she’s gonna love you, you know that, right? Even if you told her everything, she’d love you all the same.” His finger under your chin urged your eyes back to his. “Just like I love you all the same.”

Love? Your eyes darted between both of his, looking for any sign that he was joking. Any sign that he was trying to maybe lighten the mood, but you couldn’t find any. He wasn’t acting… he wasn’t bluffing…

“Oh my god.”

The softest half-smile you’d ever seen crept onto his face seconds before he leaned down and nudged your nose with his. “You seem surprised.”

“I’m…”

Memories flashed in front of you of you and Sebastian.

Seb buying you Oreos and ice cream. His bright eyes when you agreed to stay the night with him that first time. Him defending you to the paparazzi outside the hospital. That hesitance in his eyes when he asked you to wear the ring. Flirting via Skype.

And, god, that first kiss in the elevator. It was like he was drowning and you were the bubble of air he needed to live.

“I’m…” you tried again, but once again, words failed you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he stated, practically guaranteeing that you would never again be able to form a complete sentence ever again. “I know you, I know about your past, and unless you’re hiding a secret bigger than what you’ve already told me, nothing is going to change that. Even then, probably. How I feel about you isn’t going to go away.”

“Seb, I… What?”

He chuckled, bumping your nose again. “I love you. And now I’m going to kiss you. Unless, of course, you have any objections to that.”

Objections? What sort of objections could you possibly have with his eyes looking so sincerely into yours and his arms warm around you? “I… I probably should have objections.”

“But you don’t?”

“I, uh, can’t think of anything right now.”

His grin grew and a mumbled good later, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was gentle, at first. His lips were barely brushing yours, and if it wasn’t for his thumb stroking your cheek and your heart beating hard enough to crack a rib, you wouldn’t even have classified this as a kiss.

Then he pressed closer, stealing every breath you exhaled until there wasn’t anything but him. Every kiss with Sebastian seemed to rewrite your world, but this kiss completely undid everything. All that mattered was the minty aftertaste of the gum he’d been chewing earlier, the rough callouses of his hands scratching against your cheek, and his familiar musky aftershave scent enveloping you.

Slowly, he began pulling away, leaving a trail of kisses across your cheek as he chuckled. “I think I like kissing you when you’re hooked up to a heart monitor.”

His words made you realize that the monitor was beeping much faster than it had been just moments before and you ducked your head into his neck, huffing soft laughter.

“I like that sound too,” he murmured. “Been a while since you’ve laughed.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, risking a quick kiss to his neck. He brought his hand up to curl around your head, mindful of the bandage from surgery. His simple action anchored you to him; anchored you to this moment. This moment where the outside world didn’t exist. Where it was just you and him. “You know this isn’t over, right? I’m fucked up and a kiss isn’t going to make it all better.”

“I know. But I hope you know that I’m going to be right by your side through all of it. I don’t know why I married you in Vegas, but I know why I want to stay married to you.” At his declaration, you eased your head away from his neck and looked at him. With the sincerest expression you’d ever seen, he tucked your hair behind your ear and looked right into your eyes. “I’m all in, sweetheart. I’m willing to do whatever I need to, to get you good again. I have a therapist I go to sometimes who is great. Or we could find someone else, if you don’t want to mix that. Whatever you want.”

“I went to therapy in college,” you said weakly, about to argue that it hadn’t helped.

Sebastian apparently knew where you were going and broke in. “But you didn’t talk about everything, did you?” You shook your head and he gave you a reassuring smile. “Baby, you’ve gotta talk about it. All of it.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips and you laid your head back down on his shoulder. “I know.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead just before his chin came to rest on top of your head. “We’ll figure it out later, okay?”

“Okay,” you gave in, finally acknowledging that you’d stick around in his life. That you weren’t about to run away, and that you accepted that he wasn’t about to call the cops on you or divorce you right away.

A few minutes of comfortable silence tiptoed past. Finally, you stretched and climbed off of Seb’s lap. Your muscles protested, but you pushed through. As much as you’d love to stay curled up with Sebastian all day, your bladder had different plans.

The rest of the day was spent in familiar companionship. No more deep, dark discussions took place, and you managed to keep your self-hatred and depression at bay enough to enjoy the Lord of the Rings marathon Sebastian convinced you to start with him.

You knew this moment was the eye of the hurricane. The last few days had been hell, and the next few days or weeks would likely be just as bad or even worse.

But this moment? All was calm.

He said it! He said he loves her!! She agreed to stick around! Cancer free, love acknowledged, future plans... what more can you want??

Just the Epilogue left, y’all!!

EPILOGUE: THE END

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