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danses-with-dogmeat · 6 months

Text

Day 31 -- Edward Deegan

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 31 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Aphrodisiacs with Edward Deegan x g/n!Sole

Lordy lordy, how I was SO excited to write for this man. And hopefully this doesn't disappoint!

Sorry it took so long to get out as well, some life stuff came up this past week that held me up, but it's out now! 😁

I hope you all enjoy immensely lol 😏

Also, thank you to everyone who indulged me this October! Your support (especially with some of these lesser-known characters) was absolutely amazing! ❤️ I'm going to be taking somewhat of a lil break for the next couple weeks to post everything on AO3 and recover lol, but after that, I'll post an update and see about opening up requests for the first time in... Jesus, a VERY long time. I'll talk to y'all then!!!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Aphrodisiacs, masturbation, fantasies, voyeurism-ish, attempted confessions, actual confessions, kissing, touching, hand jobs, affection, sweetness, cuddling.

Words: 4.6k

The door burst open with a crash, almost rattling off its hinges in his haste, in his salacious wrath and desperation. Edward closed it just as aggressively, feeling the surface of his skin itch, feeling his breath pull in with heavy, heady gulps that had his chest straining at the seams. Sweat poured from him, in a way the ghoul didn’t even know it could, with his ruined skin.

Is it happening? Is it… working?

He hoped so.

After the hell he just went through? The embarrassment of the overwhelming heat that was encasing him, the labor of his breaths, the haze in his expression. Normally, he’s cool as can be, smooth, stoic, even, but he was gasping, shaking, and more so than that, he was tenting out the front of his cargo pants to the point of blunt obviousness.

The symptoms don’t matter. He told himself, as the memory of Sole's baffled expression flashed in his foggy mind. As long as it works, none of it matters at all.

They’ll see him, for the first time, he hoped, Sole would see what he was before he was… this.

Edward didn’t like to wave his own flag too vigorously, no, he wasn’t a vain man, but he had been… maybe handsome was too strong a word, but he hadn’t been this, that’s for certain. Jack had reminded him time and time again, that he had been more attractive back before his ghoulification, but now he was more intimidating. It made his job of protecting the family and occasionally threatening people a bit easier, they both agreed on that account.

When it came to Sole though… he wasn't sure he wanted to be intimidating.

He didn’t know what he was doing, trying to get wrapped up with a pre-war widow(er) like them, but logic had nothing to do with this shit. Before them, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t minded the way he looked, hadn’t minded his solitude, his loyalty to this family and lack of contact with anyone outside of it. Edward had always promised not to dabble in Jack’s serums, no matter what outcomes they promised, but when it came to Sole, when it came to being… acceptable by their standards, he’d thought this was a good idea, thought it could make him… well, desirable was another strong word for him to use, but he at least hoped they could see him as something more than Jack Cabot’s bodyguard.

Edward growled as he tugged his hat from his head, throwing it to the worn, wooden floor below. His room was dark, musty, and consisted of nothing more than a weapon’s trunk, a dresser and a single bed on the far side of the little room. He cast bits of armor and clothing over the whole of the floor as he moved towards that shoddy mattress, hearing it squeak and protest as he laid back on it and tugged at the stiff fabric of his cargo pants. His underwear followed shortly after, both being kicked to the base of the bed as he spread himself out on it.

He felt he could crawl out of his own skin, hell maybe he wanted that. Maybe the transformation was happening now, but… goddamn, why was he so hard? Why was his mind so... stuck?

It’s true, he was usually thinking of Sole these days, but never this… disrespectfully. That curious expression of theirs as he excused himself from their and Jack’s meeting, the way their eyes had followed him out, the concern he saw there, right at the end. Oh, but how he craved their attention, even when it worried for him.

He imagined the sort of expressions they’d make if he had his hands on them now, if he could’ve stayed, thrown Jack out of the dining room instead of leaving himself. He could take them over the table, lying down the dining mats to keep the wood from harshly bruising their soft skin as his hands moved over their body, as he laid overtop them, pressing them into the oaken hardness until they were arching against it, setting his mouth on them, his lack of lips, his hot tongue, hearing them gasp, feeling them grow needy beneath his worshipful touch.

Edward’s breaths left him in pants now, very nearly moans as he found his dry, rough hand moving over his rigid, drooling cock.

What the hell?

He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed ahold of himself, he’d been so wrapped up in his fantasy. Already, the sensitive skin around his shaft burned with the ungentle friction of his hand, but… he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how he tried to use logic, tried to think about the pain his thrusting palm was causing him, it was even more painful to consider pulling away, to leave himself stiff and wanting.

It was impossible, too, not to think of Sole. As much as it made him feel dirty, it made his teeth grit and his chest ache, there was nothing else in Edward’s head. No thoughts beyond them. He had no past, no present, no Cabot issues, no frustrations beyond the need to be near to Sole, the want to feel them in his arms, the gripping, dizzying necessity of feeling their warmth all around him, caressing, encasing his cock.

It was shallow, it was rude, it was creepy, but fuck… it felt too good.

He kept imaging it, in details like brushstrokes of a world-famous masterpiece, he saw the light in their eyes, the way their hair spread like a crown around their head, splendid and mussed from his attentions, the glisten of their spit on their lips, of his spit mingling there from their recent kisses, that vein bulging in their neck from the strain of holding back, from the greatness of the pleasure he brought them.

“Sole, holy shit…” Edward rasped through gritted teeth, hearing the slap of skin as his hand moved rapidly over his erection, hitting the base of him with such force it had him flinching and bucking into his touch in the same movement.

“Wish you were here.” He growled out, his voice a dry husk, breathless and scratchy.

If they were here though, is this really what they’d want to be seeing? Want to be doing... with him?

Probably not. Edward’s mind tried to reason. Still though, shit doesn’t stop me from wanting it. Needing it.

What the hell was in that serum?

The ghoul felt his cock might burst into flames with the increasing friction of his hand. He felt the foreskin catching at his textured palms, his calloused fingers, he felt pre-cum drooling down steadily, slicking what little it could as his hand tugged and bullied himself until tears sprung to the corners of his pale, bloodshot eyes.

Sweat poured in rivers down the grooves of his flesh, unchanged, unsmoothed and still just as ghoulish as it’d been yesterday and a hundred years before that.

If it doesn’t heal me… what will this serum do?

It was all his mind could afford to think. In short sentences, simple collections of words, as the bulk of his focus remained on Sole. Their face in the throes of pleasure, the imagined feel of them all around him. Their sweet scent, gritty but old-fashioned, somewhere between the adventures of the Commonwealth and home. The way their nails would scrape at his skin, the way they’d breathe his name, the way they’d seek him out, their eyes, their lips, their affections, all for him... In this ideal, fictional headspace of his.

Still though, Edward's imagination had his body frantically catching up, growing closer and closer to his release as he painted the image in his mind of what they’d look like in the midst of their own climactic end, brought about by his hand. The way they’d cry his name, grip tightly to his cock, pull him further into their desperate grasp as they shuddered below his frame– it was so real, his imagining of it all, that Edward went tumbling over the edge right along with them.

The ghoul couldn’t help the gasps leaving him, the moans that he begged the drywall not to allow to pass through, just in case Sole’s meeting was over now, in case Jack came to check on him, in case the house was silent, but for him. It was no use pleading with the house though, not when his voice was so stubborn.

Not when his imagination decided to materialize something beyond his comprehension– beyond his wildest fears.

“Shit… Ed– I’m sorry, I should-- yeah, I'll just...”

Sole’s voice was so quiet, like it was entering his ears from another dimension; distant, like melodies from a neighbor’s radio across the street.

He almost didn’t react to their presence at all.

Almost.

No true words left the ghoul, then, as he frantically pulled the scratchy blanket over his lap on the mattress. It did little to cover the way his erection still stood, stiff and stubborn, tenting the fabric as he moved to conceal it and as much else of him as he possibly could in such haste.

Edward allowed himself one clear of his throat, before he began apologizing, explaining his actions away, pleading their forgiveness, questioning if they saw anything– all at once in a strange amalgamation of nonsense that even he scratched his head at.

“S-sorry. Not– This isn’t– You should probably– Ah, shit, Sole…” He ended with a defeated shake of his head, feeling embarrassment of two separate types heating his ears and cheeks with each passing moment they spent looking over at him. First, was the shame of this person that he loved and admired seeing him utterly debased and wretched in his dark little room, with their name on his tongue as he did it. Second… Well, the shame that he’d tried to change himself for them, without even knowing if they were interested at all, that he’d been so desperate as to do this to himself, rather than simply be honest with them.

Two hundred years of protecting an ancient, powerful family from all manners of incomprehensible harm, and he was still a coward. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of rejection, afraid of his own damn skin.

“Are you…” Their gentle voice snapped him out of his mental anguish, “I just wanted to come and check on you. After you ran out on the meeting, well… It looked like you were gonna be sick or something. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Edward gulped, audibly and visually, and felt another wave of heat threaten to consume him, his cock jerking angrily below the blanket as a chill ran up his spine.

Knock it off. His command to his body became more of a plea as he felt the serum bubbling up in his veins once again.

“Wish you hadn’t seen this, Sole.”

They didn’t leave, didn’t cringe or cry out or laugh at him, not when they first saw him, and not now. No, instead, Sole reached around and closed the door with a click behind them as they stepped into the dim little room, and made their way to sit on the far edge of his bed.

“Are you alright?” Their bright eyes stayed locked to his, “What happened, Edward?”

His name on their lips was like a firebrand to his heart, setting it aglow with new, resounding affection that made his fingers twitch and his teeth grit together.

“The serum…” He managed out, “Thought I could take some. See what happens, see if…”

Edward’s own gasp interrupted him, as his body carried on with its basal needs without his consent. His fists clenched until his knuckles ached, until he felt the blood flow from his wrists halt in its tracks.

“That’s what did this to you?” Sole blinked at him, their eyes remaining respectfully on his face as his body reacted to their voice, their proximity, the continuing effects of that damned serum. Still though, even with all their unflappable respect for him, Edward could see they way their fingers fidgeted, the way their face seemed to heat, the way they so stubbornly made sure to keep their gaze on his face, and as far from his lap as they could without being overtly obvious.

"Jack said that he was experimenting a bit with the serums, but this is... Well..."

Sole cleared their throat as Edward mentally kicked himself.

Should've checked with the boss before trying this shit out on myself.

Idiot.

They must've seen the way he chastised himself within, for in the next moment, Sole scooted themself closer, and put a hand on his covered knee.

"I don't know if it's any of my business, really, but... Why did you take it?"

None of their business..? Edward could've laughed aloud at that. If only they knew.

"Thought it could help." He said vaguely, his voice still strained, his breath still more rapid than it had any right to be.

The place where their hand laid over his knee, even with the bed sheet keeping their skin from his, zapped life-giving defibrillations all throughout his body. It charged the blood in his veins, collected in pockets of heat in his chest, the base of his spine, the back of his head, between his legs, imprisoning the words in his head that he fought to pull out through his mouth. He wanted to tell them the truth, felt he needed to now, that they deserved to hear it, but his body demanded more. It wanted to act on his debased musings and pull Sole into his arms right now, to set his hungry mouth upon them, to tell them, not with his voice, but with the grip of his hands, the aching need of his heavy breaths, to show them, in favor of messily prying the words from his throat.

Can't do that. His true self told his body firmly, as many times as it could, to keep his hands in place on the mattress, to keep his eyes on the wall, rather than sweeping over their vault-suit clad body.

If I give myself an inch, I may not be able to stop.

That terrified him more than any other effect the serum could have on him. It scared him and made his mind and body tremble like the thought of becoming feral.

"Help what?" Sole prompted with a gentle whisper, and he could taste their breath as it washed over him. Jack's dessert coffee. Chocolate bon bons. Those sweet, frozen cherries the family has managed to keep all these years.

Edward's mouth watered.

"Edward?"

He must've been silent longer than he realized, but finally, the ghoul was able to blink, to take in a breath and hold it there, rather than panting it back out straightaway like a dog.

Maybe it's wearing off?

He could only hope.

Yet... The persisting aching firmness of his cock, the sweat collecting at the base of his back and along his chest, under his arms, it all told a different story.

"Sorry," He all but choked out the word. "I... It was for you."

Forcibly, he took the chance and set his gaze upon their face, trying to keep his body under his firm control as he took in their reaction.

"M-me? How... Why?"

Why? He let out a dry chuckle. That's a dangerous question to ask if you want to be out of here before dawn.

"Wanted to be better. Wanted to change so you could... So we..." A forceful shudder ran through his body, stilling his tongue, forcing his muscles to clench until they knotted, making his hips buck up off of the mattress until Sole was forced to pull their hand away.

"Shit--" His voice was back to a growl: low, intense, and charged with carnal desire he only dreamed he could keep at bay. "Have to leave, Sole. It's coming back."

"W-what is?" They stayed firmly, infuriatingly, next to him on the bed, their voice concerned, but also... something else.

"Edward," He felt his cock pulse and drool below the sheet at the way his name left them. "Tell me how to help you. I want to help."

"No." The ghoul shook his head, even as it fell backwards, slamming into the wall behind him as his body writhed and demanded attention.

"Please."

Fuck. He thought, his head still shaking in denial. Don't say that.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Especially if I had something to do with it."

Everything to do with it, more like.

"T-touch me."

It left him before Edward had a chance to reign it in, before his consciousness could plead with this serum-induced need of his and tell him to be patient, to speak to Sole, to tell them the whole truth, to take things slow, to make it last.

To his surprise though, instead of being offended, of scoffing and walking away, of looking disgusted or scared at his request, Sole, at last, let their eyes trail down his body. They even smiled as they bit their bottom lip, and moved their hands out towards him.

Without thinking, Edward leaned forward and into their touch, letting their palms press to the rough hills and valleys of his frame, letting them slide over his bare, glistening chest until one moved up to his face, and pulled him into a surprisingly lustful kiss.

Their passion rivalled his own, even, as they crawled almost on top of him, as their fingers thirsted for more area to touch, as they tilted their head and set their soft, warm lips upon his with vigor, kneading over his own marred mouth like his tongue held the key to their survival. It seemed theirs really did, in his case. His body needed them-- their touch-- like life needs water, needs air, needs sunshine, like a heart needs blood and a mind needs a thought. These feelings, the sensations they inspired, were a direct product of his being, but also the very reason he seemed to exist.

Edward finally gave permission for his own hands to set upon them in turn; though, he held back the force that the serum screamed to take them with. Stiffly, his palms caressed their waist, the jut of their hips, the small of their back, up to the base of their neck. He touched them like he was meant to cover them in it, like he was stained with paint meant to encase their entire being. Edward let himself kiss them, too, with the fervor this heat within him demanded. Let himself commit the shape of their lips and the sweet taste of them to his memory.

In case I never get the chance again.

He wasn't sure he'd blame them, if that was the case, but... at this point, there were many signs that pointed to something he hadn't considered.

Do they... Have they wanted me too? All this time?

Edward wished he could ask, but thoughts were like rising steam, and he wasn't able to grasp onto a single one and form it to words. Especially as Sole's hands travelled over him, as their lips left his and they moved their body downwards, adjusting so they could pull the sheet from overtop his bare form.

They did it slowly, their eyes asking before their voice could: 'Is this okay?'

He nodded to them, breathless, with his hands still firmly set upon their body, and they slid the scratchy blanket off him and to the unoccupied side of the mattress.

Sole barely took a pause, their eyes looking him over with just enough time for him to doubt their attraction-- no, their tolerance-- to and of his appearance. But then their hands were moving again, one sliding to the back of his neck, urging him back to their beckoning lips, while the other grazed over the head of his weeping cock, and took it in-hand.

"I've wanted this too, you know." Sole whispered into him, their hand moving slowly but firmly along the stiffness of his shaft, building that ever-growing heat in him to the point of pain.

Edward's mind was so addled, so distracted by their blinding touch, that he almost didn't hear what they'd just confessed. His eyes blinked open, his grip tightened unwittingly on their body as his expression pleaded 'tell me again.'

"You don't have to change a thing, Edward." Their thumb circled over the overly sensitive slit in his cock, and he pulled a hissing breath in between his teeth. "I want you just the way you are now."

Sole leaned in again, and he pressed forward more firmly than intended, thanking them with actions rather than the words he couldn't seem to muster in his current state. He moaned into the kiss, even, as their hand continued its relentless stroking, as it circled and tugged at his skin in a way more delectable than he ever seemed to master, than he ever thought was even possible.

But maybe that was because it was Sole's hand that was doing it.

They tried to pull away, to take in a much needed breath, and Edward couldn't help himself, couldn't pry his phantom lips away from their skin. He set them upon their cheek, down to their jaw, feeling the way their muscles clenched there in response, the way they shuddered when his rough lips journeyed to their sensitive neck.

Edward could feel everything.

He wasn't sure if it was the serum, or just the way his mind and heart clung to this contact-- to the fact that he was really here, doing this with Sole, with the man/woman of his dreams and most profound desires-- but he could feel every raise of a goosebump on their skin, feel their pulse thundering in their veins, could taste the essence of their being in their scent, on their flesh.

Their whole story: living before the war, the soap they'd used all those years ago, the cream they'd rubbed into their skin, and then their years locked away in their frozen prison, the hint of ice, of coolness they radiated from those long years, the ache of their great sadness, the strain of their muscles for undergoing that horrendous trauma. It was all there, beneath the touch of his lips, caressed by the heat of his breath. Edward cherished every bit of it, loved them for their scars, the same way they cared for him in spite of his own.

He didn't know why he didn't let himself see if before, didn't let himself believe it was true, but they really were a fine match.

Him and Sole... they understood each other. He knew their experiences better than any born and raised wastelander could, knew their struggles more intimately than the Cabot family ever could... and Sole knew of his own suffering more than any other human ever could.

Why'd I have to turn to extremes so soon? Risk fucking this up...

It was the only question-- the only thought-- he could stand to formulate as of now, as their grip squeezed over him, as their stiff fingers wrung his pleasure from his core out to the surface. Edward felt it building, felt the swell, the rhythm of his bucking hips grow fevered and desperate, and he felt their smile, even, before he glanced up to see it.

It was a focused sort of grin, their brows were drawn, their pupils blown wide and dark and wanting in a way that he thought it might just be his own reflection shining in them.

How could Sole look this way, for a man like me? A man, that isn't even--

The ghoul didn't have time to finish that thought, not as their thumb swiped over his tip again, as their other hand went down to join the first, massaging and kneading over his aching, burning, destitute hardness until he was holding back cries.

The meat of his wrist fit between clenching teeth, his forehead pressed to the hardness of Sole's collarbone as he leaned into the contact, aching and screaming for more with everything apart from his voice.

If Jack heard, or Wilhelmina...

If he hadn't been so occupied, he might've shuddered at the thought.

But this? Letting go, being vulnerable, allowing himself pleasure, a moment that was truly private between him and Sole? Anything was worth that. He'd lose his job, his room here, his name, his life, if it meant he could do this, see this, feel this again, with Sole by his side, in his arms, touching him this way.

He half wondered if he'd passed out in his bed after the last bout of pleasure, if he'd fallen asleep and the serum inspired the sweetest dream there was.

Sole's voice though, the feel of them, the way their scent and being surrounded him in every way... it couldn't be the case. It was sweeter than he believed reality could be, especially these days, but damnit, there was no doubt in his head that it was real.

"Let go, Edward."

Their voice was pleading with him, their hands pulling him along, never ceasing, as they brought him straight into that all-encompassing bliss. He couldn't hold back now, not at his climax, and Edward's head flew back, his muscles straining, his mouth falling open to release the most animalistic of sounds: a groan from the very base of him that had Sole writhing and gasping right along with him.

I made him sound like that. Their touch cried out as their hands squeezed and clenched until his essence was spilling out onto his clenching stomach, pouring down over their fingers and soiling the bedsheets below.

"Yes." Sole breathed, and he felt another shudder jolt through him, another spurt of seed from his pulsing cock. "That's it, hon. Let go for me."

Tears were collecting at the sides of Edward's eyes, his relief and euphoric release leaving him in trembles and heavy breaths.

It took a few moments, took the last of his pleasure to bleed out, and then Edward was back on earth, back in his room, back in this skin once more.

Sole pulled their touch from his over-sensitive cock, wiping their soiled hands carefully on the bedsheet before lying down beside him and resting their head on his shoulder. A cool hand smoothed its way over his body, making a home over his sweltering, still-heaving chest as Sole clung to him.

The serum hadn't quite worked, not the way Edward had intended it to, but... It really had worked though, hadn't it? Not the way he imagined, sure, but the end result was... close enough.

He didn't even realize it, not until his cheeks began to ache, but he was smiling, grinning toothily like a fool in love, as Sole rested against him, as he wound his arms around their form, holding them close, savoring every ounce of the person who accepted him, who didn't turn him away, who cared for him... as he was.

"Thank you." He rasped, sliding his hands over them as soothingly as he could manage.

Sole only hummed, a sweet, happy sound, and he felt the vibration of it throughout his body as they lay against him.

He felt at peace, then. He felt warm, he felt sated and valued and more content than he could ever recall before, and yet... A familiar sort of churning, a boiling sensation rose from deep inside him. His muscles twitched and his tired member gave a rousing pulse between his legs.

Edward could only swallow and do the ghoul equivalent of blushing, as Sole's wide eyes peeked up at him with one eyebrow quirked in question. Though, as he looked down at them-- in a coy, apologetic sort of way-- they still wore that fond, fiendish smile.

The night wasn't over just yet.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 npcs #fallout npc #fo4 #edward deegan #fallout edward deegan #edward deegan fo4 #sole survivor #sole #g/n!sole #dwd.nsfw #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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heartstopper-tword · 6 months

Note

Prompt #33 for N & C ler/lee please

A/N: hi anon! ty for the prompt :) hope you enjoy!

if you want to send me prompts to my inbox you can find the list here!

Prompt #33: "Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly?"

Missing You Making Me Laugh

Two weeks away from each other was enough.

Charlie had known Nick was going on holiday with his family well in advance. Nick had told him about his family's tradition of traveling to Menorca every year to get together with the rest of his extended family, and how one day he wanted to take Charlie with him. Even a few hours apart from one another at school was agonizing for the both of them in general, so two weeks in different countries was absolute hell.

Luckily, Nick had kept his promise of calling Charlie every night to talk to him, checking in on his mental health back home and updating him about his cousins' antics around the vacation house. He'd send him pictures of the dogs together, him and other relatives, and so on, but Charlie still felt lonely without the older boy next to him.

He wasn't afraid to let his boyfriend know how he felt when he'd call, and every time Nick would answer with, "I know, I miss you too. It's only a few more days and I'll be back." Then he'd give him that classic, charming Nick Nelson smile that always stole Charlie's heart.

It wasn't just Nick's company Charlie was missing. It was something else. Something that made Charlie blush whenever he thought about it, giddiness and nerves overtaking him on the inside.

Charlie was known by his friends to be extremely ticklish. He, Tao, Elle, and Isaac had had their fair share of tickle fights and ambushes, and for as long as he could remember, Charlie very nearly was always being ganged up on. He couldn't help it, of course. He'd always been a walking tickle spot since he was little, Tori taking advantage of it as her duty of being the older sibling. It was something he'd tried and obviously had failed at hiding from Nick once they began dating, more out of embarrassment than anything.

When Nick had figured out Charlie's ticklishness, he'd gushed about how adorable he found it and that it just added to one of the things he loved best about him.

Charlie had been extremely embarrassed at first, but slowly became comfortable with the fact that Nick wasn't weirded out by him. In fact, Nick tickled him at almost every chance he got, almost anywhere they were. It made Charlie feel overjoyed by the fact that someone wasn't afraid to be physically affectionate with him, even if it meant being at the receiving end of it all.

But now, Charlie almost felt starved by this absence. He didn't have Nick whispering teases into his ear as he held him close against his chest. He didn't have him chasing him around his house and cornering him before tickling him into hysterics. He missed Nick's goofy self whenever he got into his moods, and he wanted it more than anything. And he needed that now.

He was currently sitting at his desk in his bedroom, on one of his daily calls with his boyfriend. The sun was setting through the window, and Charlie knew he didn't have much time until he needed to get ready to head off to bed. He could hear Nick talking about his afternoon, helping to babysit the younger of his cousins, but he wasn't truly listening. His thoughts kept going to that one specific thing he had on his mind all day.

"Charlie?" On the screen, Nick's face was filled with concern, his head tilted slightly. "What's wrong? You look all flushed."

Charlie cleared his throat, "I-I'm fine." Then as an afterthought, "Sorry."

"No," Nick shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No S-words from you, sir. I thought we banned that word for good."

Charlie bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry."

Nick wasn't oblivious. He could see the beginning of that cheeky smirk even through the screen of his phone.

"Charles Francis Spring," He said slowly, causing Charlie to shiver in his chair, "Are you purposely trying to rile me up right now?"

Charlie felt like his whole being was on fire from how hard he was blushing. Even through the phone screen he couldn't look Nick in the eye.

"Talk to me. What are you thinking in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I-I-" the younger swallowed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He knew Nick had caught on to what he wanted. Of course he had. Nick could read Charlie like an open book. It felt like he was right there in his bedroom with him.

"Is there something you want from me?" Nick couldn't help his own smirk from appearing on his face, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend teasingly.

"Stooop," Charlie whined, covering his face with his hands, a nervous giggle escaping his lips.

"I'm just asking a question!" Nick laughed, and Charlie shook his head, still hiding his face. After a moment of silence, Nick leaned in a little. "Charlieee..."

"Do I have to say it?" Charlie asked, finally peaking through his fingers at his boyfriend and trying not to combust.

"I'd love to hear it."

They kept their eyes locked with one another, both of them grinning like idiots. Finally, Charlie let out a long sigh, looking down at his hands.

"I- I want you to..." His voice was barely audible, and Nick chuckled as he trailed off. "What? I'm sorry, you want me to...?"

"You know what." Charlie said playfully exasperated, and Nick crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent.

Charlie's leg was bouncing under his desk, and he let out another sigh, squirming in his seat. "Iwantyoutotickleme."

"Again?"

He rolled his eyes. "I want you to... tickle me."

"And it finally comes out." Nick leaned back again in his chair, looking at his boyfriend smugly.

"Shut up."

"Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly? You miss me teasing you and playing with you? You miss me making you laugh so hard you can barely breathe? You miss me making you all flustered to the point you can't speak in complete sentences?"

"Shut up!" Charlie squealed, closing his eyes as nervous giggles began pouring out of his mouth. He could almost feel the sensation of Nick poking at him playfully, and it was driving him nuts.

"Oh Char, just you wait until I get back. Because I miss it too. I've nearly gone insane without hearing your adorable laughter. I miss seeing you squirm underneath me. So as soon as I get home, you better be ready. We'll have to make sure my mum isn't home. She'll think I'm murdering you."

"Nicholas, I will hang up on you." Charlie threatened, though by the tone of his voice, Nick knew he wasn't serious. However, he decided to egg him on once more. "Go ahead. That'll just seal your fate even more."

"Ugh, stop!" Charlie grabbed his phone, both boys laughing at this point. "You're impossible!"

"Okay, okay." Nick raised his hands, finally relenting. "You're just too cute to not tease you."

Charlie scoffed, moving to his bed and falling onto his back, his phone raised above him. "You're a menace, you know that?"

"Oh, I know." Nick winked, and Charlie felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Anyways, I have to get going. My family's going to be eating dinner soon. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay." Charlie felt slightly disappointed. He always hated hanging up with Nick at the end of a call.

Nick must've sensed his change of moods, and his expression softened. "Only a few more days, mon amour." He whispered, and Charlie nodded.

"Only a few more days."

#heartstopper #heartstopper tickle #heartstopper tickle fic #netflix #lgbtq #charlie spring #nick nelson #ler!nick #lee!charlie #teasing #gay #bisexual

91 notes · View notes

lesbolieeh · 10 months

Text

She left behind a poem

Yuna (ITZY) ✦ Fem!Reader

WC—3.8 ✦ k

THEMES—sfw ✦ light angst ✦ future fluff (?) ✦ best friend au ✦ crush au

WARNING—anxiety ✦ heartbreak ✦ crying yuna :(

NOW PLAYING—Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) ✦ Studio Killers

[A/N.] 언니 (eonni) = older sister

Original ver. “The Notebook” (Somi x reader)

M.LISTS—itzy ✦ latest updates ✦ read on wp

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

Today was one of those bad fucking days. One of those days when you can't find any positivity in anything. One of those days when you don't feel like talking to the people you love the most. One of those days when you just want to give up.

The first thing you saw in the morning was a the notification of a text from your girlfriend. Looking at the white speech bubble is something you usually look forward to when you see Somi's name bright up your screen, knowing she always has something entertaining to tell.

But this particular morning she said something you wish were a joke.

SomSom babieboo💞

[ive been thinking lately and _____ i think we need a break]

😘🤌👅🍒🍑✂️🌈☀️

[You're not going to tell me why?]

Seen 10:17

You asked her the first thing that came to your mind. She couldn't possibly just expect you to be OK with having a break without a reason, right?

After an hour you accepted the fact that she had left you on read and that she wasn't going to reply anytime soon.

Maybe it was because she called you _____.

She never called you by your name. Only your friends called you that. She was supposed to call you weird or cheesy pet names and nothing else!

She left you with a headache. She left you with your bad thoughts and theories. Damn you, Somi.

It was very human-like of you to be in a bad mood. Only a robot would feel nothing in this situation. The day wouldn't get any worse. You were going to make sure of it! Your mood may have been bad, but you weren't going to let anyone else get affected by it. Lashing out on innocent people because you don't feel good on the inside is something you hated doing.

Today you were going to hang out with your best friend, Yuna, have a picnic on a park next to the Han river. Yuna had packed a cute pink basket (that she had specifically bought for you two to use for picnics together since they happened at least thrice a month) which was filled with tuna and kimchi kimbap, green grapes, two clementines and some churro flavored chips and you had packed a large outdoor blanket so Yuna wouldn't have too much to carry. For almost a week you two hadn't met up and you both missed each other and wanted to make up for the days you had spent apart so of course you went for the nice, typical no-homo picnic hang out session.

But no.

You weren't going to meet Yuna and ruin her parade with the rain cloud that was following you around wherever you went since you opened your eyes this dark morning. No, you weren't going to let the first time you two meet in such a long time be ruined by the sad news you got this ugly morning.

언니 🥰

[I can't hang out today, sorry]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[why not?☹️]

언니 🥰

[I'm not feeling too well]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[it's ok i'll get some soup for u😊]

언니 🥰

[No, you don't need to, I don't want you to get sick!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[but ive missed u sm☹️]

언니 🥰

[We'll meet another day I promise to make up for this!]

And so you put the phone gently on the table to lay on the sofa and binge watch some random show. You made sure to turn your phone off first since you knew you'd cut Somi some slack in case you read any persuasive text from her — she's good with words and making you feel loved. Whilst you were looking through all the lists Netflix had created for you, which were filled with movies and series you either had already seen or weren't interested in, Yuna was still expectantly waiting for her screen to go bright.

She must be joking, she thought.

Unlike you, Yuna's morning had started out brilliant. From the moment she opened her eyes, she was smiling and full of energy, excited to hang out with you after not seeing you for five whole days. She had missed you. Spending time with you was one of her favorite hobbies! Since you two had picnics regularly you two had decided that you would take turns in deciding and packing the picnic basket and this time it was Yuna's turn! She had been so excited all week, planning out a shopping list days before. She had specifically purchased grapes this time because she had this fantasy of putting one in your mouth (which sounded weird, but it would feel intimate to feed you fruit) and also playing around and throwing grapes up in the air and catching them in the mouth.

Needless to say, she liked you a little more than a best friend should and that was a bit of a problem. Her friends kept telling her that it was stupid to spend so much time with you and that Yuna should either try to ignore her emotions or she should distance herself from you until she loses feelings, because it was unfair to hurt herself by giving herself false hopes of getting somewhere with a taken girl.

And Yuna knew it. For so long, she'd known that it was a bad idea to like you. You didn't like her in the same way, and you even had a girlfriend for fuck's sake — and a really pretty one at that! But no matter how many red flags there were, she still wanted to spend everyday with you. She didn't want a week to go by without being with you. She wanted to cuddle with you on a picnic blanket. She wanted to kiss you when you visited photo booths. She wanted to share shirts with you. She wanted to stay up late and talk until you two fell asleep in each others' arms. She wanted to be the only one you called Baby.

Wondering why you called Yuna 'Baby' when you already were in a relationship with Somi? Well, Baby had been Yuna's nickname before you even met Somi (yes, you'd known Yuna longer than you'd known Somi, yet you still found yourself in a relationship with the latter — or not anymore actually). And though your (then) girlfriend never liked it, you had convinced her it was just a friendly pet name. Because that's exactly what it was.

To you.

To Yuna it was the closest she'd ever feel to being your girlfriend. But you started using that pet name less and ever since Somi came around and ruined everything more than it already was ruined. Yuna even had to change her contact name on your phone to include the word 'baby' so you wouldn't forget to call her that.

She loathed Somi.

Somi was always the reason why you couldn't hang out with your bestfriend for too long, why you couldn't call her Baby on certain occasions and why you couldn't look at her as a potential girlfriend. Somi was an attention thief. Not really. But it felt like it. Yuna was jealous of everything Somi had with you.

Because your girlfriend obviously was a threat, Yuna felt like she needed even more of your validation than before (which was already a lot). She needed your attention. If you ignored her she'd think it was your way of telling her that you had left her completely for Somi. Ridiculous! She shouldn't feel like you owe attention to her.

Your friendly fucking friendship was the closest thing Yuna had to being together with you in the way she really wanted, so she valued it a lot. Not having you as her girlfriend was painful enough, but not having you as even her friend would break her.

Right now you weren't validating your time together, nor your friendship — or at least it felt like it to Yuna. She always needed. Your attention and unlike normally, she wasn't getting it right now. Her smile dropped and so did her excitement for the day.

Was this the end?

She knew that spending one week without each other would lead to more time for you to spend with your damn girlfriend but she didn't know it would lead to the end of your friendship.

No way she'd bail on the picnic plans.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[can i pls come over? i bought fruits for u<33 i'm sure fruits is exactly what u need right now!!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[idc if i get sick or not bc i still wanna hang out w u]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[pls 언니]

Sent 11:33

You had ignored her only once before and it was a horrible experience.

The way you ignored her (on accident) was so hurtful that she had to leave the gathering that she had looked forward to for so long, confusing the other guests, to go and lock herself in a bathroom so she could cry without bothering anyone. You'd gone right after her since you knew it wasn't very Yuna-like to leave a fun time for no reason. After you had knocked on the door and reassured her you were her best friend and not a random person coming to make fun of her, she let you in the bathroom.

The sight you were met by was her crumbling figure on the floor and overflowing tears on her cheeks. She had thought that you wanted nothing to do with her. Stupid you didn't see the obvious signs. It was because of the fact that you hadn't paid any attention to her that Yuna had gotten the idea that you had grown bored of her or that you wanted to leave her for Somi (she hadn't told you the latter part, of course). And weeks later you did get together with Somi. And that made her cry herself to sleep for days which you never knew.

How much your lack of attention and affection for Yuna had affected her was scary. And a fucking sign, you idiot. Nobody gets so worked up over the loss of affection of someone they view as a friend. Ever since that incident you'd made sure to always remind her of how much you value your friendship.

Except for today.

She thought she had made it clear enough to you that you never ever should ignore her unless you really meant It. Unless you really wanted to part ways. To go from the bestest friends to cold acquaintances. Some people might think it's crazy to be this attached to a best friend but you weren't just her best friend. You were her love and happiness. Without you she didn't have either.

Five minutes passed since she triple texted you and she still had no reply. Slowly she felt how her tummy was turning into knots and how her eyes started stinging.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[ur making me worried]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[hey!! text me so ik u didn't die from choking on strawberry milk 언니😰]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[r u ignoring me?🫠]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[unless u have corona, meet me by the river at 6 if u care abt me. i need to talk to u abt smth important]

Sent 12:04

If you didn't show up she knew for sure that you had left her behind forever. If you did show up then she'd confess to you. So spontaneous. She couldn't keep her feelings away from you for another year because it wasn't healthy and she knew it. She knew she would have to tell you about her feelings sooner or later. And after being without you for a whole ass week and after experiencing the cruel punishment that is being ignored and even thinking you broke your dear friendship off, she knew the time had come for her to finally woman up and confess.

Whilst she was anxiously thinking through why she made such a bold move and possibly ruined any future she had with you, the girl she loved was being lazy and stuffing her face in pillows in front of a TV.

one season of Young Royals later...

Tossed between blankets and an overflow of pillows, your tummy roared like a lion. You hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe it was time to do something other than numbing your feelings with Netflix and the drinks you had at home? As you stood up you felt heavy. You had moved maximum 100 meters in the past few hours — to go to the bathroom then kitchen and back to the living room — and it had taken a toll on your body physically.

Fuck.

You sat back down on your sofa and brought your phone to view after hours without it.

[6 new messages from Baby Yunanana🍓]

Fuck. The last message was sent so long ago. You looked at your windows. It was dark outside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. As fast as you physically could, you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket with your aching limbs.

In just a few minutes you were on your way to the closest bus station. The whole bus ride to the river was filled with thoughts putting you down. Your favorite person in the world was sensitive about this stuff and you hurt her. You were supposed to not let your bad mood affect anybody around you. But who were you kidding? Of course something had to go wrong with an idea you constructed and analyzed for four microseconds.

Before you knew it you had arrived at the destination. You were speed walking to the river. You two always went to the exact same spot by the river since it was usually vacant, by some miracle, and had a pretty view of a bridge.

You were naive enough to think that isolating yourself from your bestfriend and your phone would help solve your problems, so you were certainly naive enough to go and check if Yuna was still at your meeting place hours after you were supposed to meet her. What if she wasn't there? What if she was there?

The water was shimmering from the moonlight and next to it was a bench and a thin, tall silhouette. Your eyes widened. Could it be...? Sniffles. That's the sound that came from their direction. You walked closer and could make out the lines of a figure that was all too familiar.

"Baby?"

The silhouette turned around and though it was dark you could see that it in fact was her. You quickly sat down beside her and noticed that a couple of notebooks were scattered on the ground next to a bike. You didn't know what to do, never having seen glad Yuna cry. After another particularly loud sniffle you turned your attention back to her. The light of the moon exposed the redness and tears on her face. For hours she'd been outside and her face was still wet with tears.

"Why are you still out at this hour?"

She choked on her tears and rested her face in her hands, "Because I'm a fool."

"No, you're not a—"

"Why are you here?" she interrupted you.

Touché.

"You told me to meet you if I care about you."

"You come here hours later as if I don't mean anything to you," she hurried out before her voice could crack.

"I'm sorry about that. But if I didn't care about you I wouldn't show up at all," you spoke with a soft tone. The last thing you wanted was to be harsh, especially since you were the reason your best friend was upset.

"Why did you do this to me, 언니?" she looked you in the eyes as if she'd find any answers inside them.

"I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose," you took her hands into yours, oblivious to how the simple gesture made Yuna a bit hopeful on the inside.

Her hands were so cold it was shocking that she was shaking because of her crying and not because of the ice-like coldness. That's what happens when you're out for hours when there's no sun — or person — to keep you warm.

"I saw the messages 20 minutes ago and got here immediately. I would never purposely ignore you, Baby."

You made sure to use her nickname in almost every sentence you spoke, silently telling her that you don't want to fight. Slowly you brought her hands to your lips and kissed them lightly, five kisses on each hand for every finger. She looked at your lovely action and felt how her tears were slowing down. The kisses didn't make her warm — maybe for a second — but at least they made her feel somewhat better inside.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to be here in the cold," you apologized and kept her hands in yours as an attempt to warm them.

One part of Yuna wanted to continue being mad and make you feel bad for the hurt you'd caused her but the bigger part wanted you to hold her in your arms. She loved you and couldn't stay mad at you for long even if she tried.

"I-It's OK, 언니. At least you're here now," she whispered and looked at your locked hands, admiring the sight since it may never happen again — or maybe she should make sure her hands are cold more often—

You sent her a sorrowful smile and let her head rest on your shoulder, resting your own against it as an instinct, both from being comfortable and tired.

"From now on I will check if I have any texts every hour for you," you said with an exaggerated joking voice to lighten the mood.

She giggled. You weren't even being that funny but you were both tired and sad, so anything even a tiny bit funny was hilarious to both of you.

"What did you want to tell me before, Baby?" you whispered into her fluffy hair and petted it.

Should she tell you how she feels? Should she possibly ruin this? If she told you how she truly felt, would you ever kiss her hands like you did just now? Would you ever touch her this caringly ever again? Would you continue to call her Baby? Or would all of that be gone due to your loyalty to your sweet precious girlfriend Somi?

For hours Yuna had been outside in the cold waiting for the love of her life so she could tell her the truth. But it took time before you, the love of her life, showed up. Too long.

When a person is alone outside with notebooks filled with blank pages to write feelings and stories in, it's easy to let emotions take over. She ended up writing around seven poems. Some poems were really cheesy and written in the spirit of the moment. Some didn't even rhyme. Some were a perfect description of where she was in her non-existing love life.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were melancholic and written from the point of view of a woman who was hopelessly in love with her best friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to have a picnic with you, 언니. I was just being dramatic to convince you to come despite feeling under the weather," she lied right through her teeth.

That made no sense because you two had never been on a picnic after sunset and Yuna would never lie to make you come see her. But you were tired and desperate to leave the cold outside, so you chuckled lightly, believing her immediately.

"Then where are the snacks?" you asked, confused since the only things around you were notebooks, a bike and water.

"I ate them."

Laughter filled the air; your genuine one and her fake one.

You put your face in her cheek, making her blush (not that you'd notice, since her cheeks were already red from before), "Well, my tummy is a little too thin right now, so let's go somewhere."

"In the middle of the night?" she questioned.

"Yes," you smiled against her cheek and she felt it, making her smile too.

"OK."

You both were still smiling when you were picking up all the notebooks to get ready for the ride. Jokes were thrown here and there. It was as if nothing had happened. You both knew it was a misunderstanding and you valued the friendship with the other too much to put energy into arguing. And you were tired too, so the argument wouldn't even be that epic even if you tried.

"What about your bike?"

"Oh nooo! The buses are always so full now that it's too late to take the subway!" Yuna whined.

"You know what? Since I was a jerk you can go take a warm bus while I ride in the cold," you said impulsively.

"B-But, 언니—" she smiled, flattered.

"B-But nothing," you interrupted her and sat down on the bike. Anyone who had spoken to you knew you were stubborn. She laughed. The little sadness she had left was gone by now. Her cheeks were dry. Still red, but not from crying, now they were red from blushing.

"OK, whatever you say, 언니."

"You brought a transport card right?" you made sure since she came by bike.

"Yes I do~ See you in an hour, 언니," she winked at you and waved with a smile brighter than the moon before running to the bus that just arrived.

You waved back to her and got ready to bike — you definitely needed a head start. But before you started you couldn't help but see something white standing out in the darkness.

It was another one of Yuna's notebooks. You must've been too tired to notice it when you were picking them up. Thankfully the notebook was open or else you wouldn't have noticed it as it had a dark cover. You took it into your hands. To make sure it really was Yuna's you needed to read at least a snippet.

You prayed it was Yuna's because it would be worse if you read a stranger's private thoughts than your best friend's since you already knew all her secrets. The snippet was Yuna's. It was from one of the pages of poems that didn't rhyme, that was very cheesy but depicted how sappy she was feeling and also told her part of the story that you never knew.

i want to feel my best friend's lips on my lips

ugh how much of a cliche gay can i be haha

i don't want her to call me 'baby' only

i want her to call me 'mine'

i want to call her that too

You drop the book on the grass. So that's what she wanted to tell you.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ Jenny, darling, you're my best friend

But there's a few things that you don't know of

Why I borrow your lipstick so often

I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

(...)

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about

Stealing your stuff now and then

Nothing you'd miss, but it means the world to me ❞

—chubby cherry; 2013

105 notes · View notes

grey-gazania · 1 month

Note

I'm sorry someone bombarded you with bitchy comments 😭. While my To Read list is lengthy and continually lengthier (actually I think something of yours with her is on it), I'd like to hear more about Ianneth-Fingon-Maedhros if you want to talk about them.

@polutrope

It wasn't really upsetting, just annoying and honestly a little bit funny. This guy left comments on all six chapters of By Love or at Least Free Will, every time I updated the story, just objecting to the entire premise of the story and ranting about how Elves have incorruptible pure souls and are immune to lust. I was sorely tempted to respond with this quote from "Laws & Customs Among the Eldar":

Even when in after days, as the histories reveal, many of the Eldar in Middle-earth became corrupted, and their hearts darkened by the shadow that lies upon Arda, seldom is any tale told of deeds of lust among them.

'Seldom' is not the same thing as 'never', and furthermore, I don't think lust is even a major theme of my story. It's more about conflicting obligations and unruly hearts.

In the end I deleted the comments without responding, because I have a personal policy of not engaging with people who are acting in bad faith. But I have to assume that this guy has no actual hobbies if he spends his time hate-reading entire stories instead of just...closing the window and moving on with his life. Maybe take up crochet, bro? Or volunteer at a soup kitchen? Watch a TV show that you like? Grow some tomatoes? Do something that will be more fulfilling than typing long screeds on AO3. I promise it will make you a happier person.

Anyway. On to the actual topic of your ask! As you've probably noticed, I am very fond of Russingon. However, I am also very fond of Fingon as Gil-galad's father. At first I balanced these two ideas by keeping my Russingon ideas and my Fingon-father-of-Gil-galad ideas in two separate universes, but then I started really fleshing out Gil-galad's mother, and it made me think some thoughts. To repeat something I said to @cuarthol in a comment on AO3:

...half the genesis of Ianneth was seeing so many stories (in multiple fandoms, not just Tolkien) where the woman is written out of a canon or semi-canon couple to make room for a popular M/M ship instead, without the female character being treated with any respect. I decided that the female perspective on that situation would be a nice change of pace and interesting to write.

I'm not trying to point fingers -- I'll readily admit that I have my male faves just like the next gal and that it's fun to make them kiss -- but the wives and girlfriends don't get a lot of love in fandom, do they? And it doesn't help that the legendarium in general tends to be a bit of a sausage fest. So I decided that Fingon would have a wife and be in love with Maedhros. But instead of focusing just on the forbidden love, I was going to focus on the wife's feelings, too.

Ianneth ("bridge-woman") is one of the Northern Sindar, from the community that lives around Lake Mithrim. She's the daughter of Annael (yes, that Annael), whom I've imagined to be one of the more influential leaders among the Northern Sindar, and particularly among the Elves of Mithrim.

Her betrothal to Fingon starts as a political arrangement. Fingolfin loves Fingon dearly, of course, but he's also been hinting for a while now that Fingon really needs to settle down and start having kids so that there will be a strong line of heirs should Fingolfin die. After all, Argon's dead, and Turgon and Aredhel abruptly fucked off to god-knows-where some three hundred years ago and haven't been seen nor heard from since. Your dad needs some grandsons, Fingon, and this also seems like a ripe opportunity to strengthen the Noldor's alliance with the Northern Sindar.

I don't think political marriage is unknown among the Elves of Beleriand. (For one example in the text, see Celegorm trying to marry Luthien to force Doriath into an alliance.) And the quote I drew the title of the aforementioned Fingon/Ianneth story from, also found in "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar," is:

The Eldar wedded only once in life, and for love or at the least by free will upon either part.

Free will could easily mean, "Are we in love? No. But I'll still marry you, for the good of our peoples, and I'll bring some of Dad's soldiers along with me." That sort of thing happened all the time among real-world nobility, so I see no reason why it can't happen among Elven nobility in Beleriand, too.

At any rate, Fingolfin arranges for Fingon to meet the daughters of some of the more powerful leaders of the Northern Sindar, and he's hint-hint-hinting that Fingon really needs to pick one of them to be his wife. Fingon, having been in love with Maedhros since they were young in Valinor, is not exactly keen on this plan. But he goes along with it anyway because he is a dutiful son, he knows that his father is right about needing to strengthen the line of succession, and he also knows that revealing his (quite taboo!) relationship with Maedhros to his father would probably break Fingolfin's heart.

It takes Fingon a while to decide who to court, but he picks Ianneth because he likes her sense of humor; she has the guts to gently tease him at their first meeting, which he finds quite charming. He doesn't think he can love anyone besides Maedhros, but he does look at Ianneth and think, "This is a woman I could grow to care for and whose companionship I think could enjoy."

The trouble begins when, over the course of their courtship, Fingon starts falling in love with Ianneth without falling out of love with Maedhros. And he doesn't know what to do about this. He can't call off the marriage, and he doesn't want to break things off with Maedhros, so he decides to just...keep the whole thing with Maedhros a secret and marry Ianneth anyway. It's not a good decision, but really, are there any options here that won't end with someone getting hurt? I don't think so.

So we have Ianneth, blissfully ignorant of her husband's infidelity (for now); Fingon, in love with two people at once and feeling horribly guilty about it, but unwilling to pick one partner over the other; and Maedhros, resigned to the situation but still hurting because Fingon is no longer his alone.

Maedhros' feelings are complicated by the fact that, once he meets her, he finds that likes Ianneth. It would be easier, he thinks, if he could write her off as just a political necessity for Fingon, but it turns out that she's charming and intelligent and kind, and he can understand why Fingon loves her. His feelings soften further once Ereiniel is born, because Fingon is so happy being a father, and he loves Fingon, so how can he begrudge him that? There's a line from "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen that I always think of when I'm getting into Maedhros' head at this point:

And thanks for the trouble you took from [his] eyes. I thought it was there for good, so I never tried.

Things tick along about as smoothly as they can for thirteen years, until, in the aftermath of Fingolfin's death during the Dagor Bragollach, as Fingon prepares to send Ianneth and Ereiniel to the Falas for their safety, Ianneth learns his secret. This is understandably devastating for her, and leaves her wondering if Fingon ever really loved her as she loved him, or if his marriage to her was simply a politically expedient sham.

Add to that the fact that she leaves for the Falas less than ten hours after this revelation and spends most of that ten hours either crying or asleep, as she's too upset to really talk to Fingon about what she's discovered, and it leaves her with this horrible knowledge and all the worst thoughts that come from it gnawing at her nearly a full year until Fingon next comes to Eglarest -- time that she spends as the sole caregiver for her young daughter, among strangers in a foreign city, without her mother or her sister or any of her friends who might have theoretically been able to offer her some emotional support.

Theoretically is a key word there, though, because even if, say, her sister had come to Eglarest, Ianneth isn't sure she'd even be able to tell her. For one thing, she can't help feeling ashamed, because infidelity is very rare among Elves, and she can't help thinking that maybe she failed as a wife somehow, and if she'd done something different, Fingon wouldn't have strayed. Then there's the fact that he's the High King of the Noldor, and if this gets out it could cause a crisis in the Noldorin government and possibly tank the alliance between the House of Fingolfin and the Northern Sindar. Ianneth is a practical woman, and she's of the Northern Sindar -- the people who have been living practically on Morgoth's doorstep for centuries, with no Maia queen's magic girdle to protect them. Their alliance with the Noldor is vital, and she would never want to jeopardize it.

So Ianneth is just...completely alone with this pain. She has no one to turn to, no one who can comfort her. And that pain is central to her story, and a not insignificant part of Ereiniel's story, too.

#polutrope #turns out when you ask me about my ocs i turn into treebeard #ianneth #fingon's wife #fingon #maedhros #gil galad #woman king au #my ocs

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tatertato · 4 months

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life series smp winners playlists part 1

okay so i've been just absolutely brainrotting over this for like weeks now and its time to finally post it!

i've basically just been compiling songs that i think fit each of the life series winners, and they're either songs i've seen work really really well in animatics already or songs that would probably work really well, but are less popular or not associated with this fandom (yet)

i'll be linking+listing them here as well as providing little snippets of explanation for why i think the song fits, but i don't feel like making actual spotify playlists or smth, so if anyone else wants to do that, be my guest.

ofc i still had trouble finding good songs for some of them- if anyone seeing this has a good idea that i missed, lmk and i'll update these posts (no promises tho)

i was originally gonna put all of them into one post, but fortunately i have come to my senses, so this is part 1. here we go!

update:

pt 2 (LL!scott)

pt 3 (DL!pearl)

3rd Life: Grian

Eighth Wonder - Lemon Demon: this song gives major Watcher!Grian vibes imo

Extra clever Earth-bound spirit Ghost in the form Of a mongoose (watcher in the form of a player)

Hello, I'm here I'm living in the wall I know I might be small (common headcanons of short grian, also living surrounded by cactus walls!)

Jim, let me go I watch like Hell (self-explanatory)

2. A Big Day for Grimley - AJJ: this one is because of this animatic, and also the lyrics fit the characters almost too well

I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me And now I am colder than I used to be (it feels like him reflecting on his experiences in 3L)

I came back to the desert, and the desert came into me And now there’s a quietness, and it’s deafening (returned to the desert for the final duel, and now that he's the only one left, the absence of his partner is deafening)

i could go on much longer about this song, but i feel like the animatic sums it up really well so GO WATCH THAT GO GO GO

3. Take Me to War - The Crane Wives: i know that everyone and their mother has done desertduo crane wives, but i've yet to see anyone use this song, which is a shame since its one of my favorites!

I've earned myself a reputation That my bark is much worse than my bite But I keep snapping at Goliath's hands With all of my tiny might (technically, he's not red, and also his traps keep failing, so the threats are pretty empty, but that will not stop him from being a menace)

Take me to war Honey, I dare you I'll be the sweetest thing To ever scare you Give me a fight I can't resist Give me something to break with my fists Take me to war Honey, I dare you (same thing as the last one, but i had to put the chorus in this post, it's just too perfect)

So I will leave it where it's standing And instead I will find me a match I'll turn it all to kindling I'll burn it all down to ash (we love a bit of arson in this fandom)

4. Community Gardens - The Scary Jokes: this is watcher!grian again, sorry not sorry- i do have a really vivid image in my head of an animatic for this song tho (the brainrot goes deep, i cannot escape)

Full disclosure, I am a monster A creature of despair, not that that should be a cause for concern (its so watcher coded im gnawing on the walls)

You'll be fine, you honeycomb Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? You'll be fine, oh, honey pie Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind? (ok so remember when i said i had an animatic idea about two sentences ago? ya. so i imagine this part as watcher!grian going through and causing the final deaths of all the winners (except scar we'll get there i promise) for instance, smiting scott at the end of LL, severing pearl's soulmate string in DL, and checking the time left before killing martyn in LimL)

The culmination of man's mistakes came the day The sun ran so hot, it turned the desert to glass (this is the whole "hail mary" thing where they blew up the whole desert and still didn't kill anyone)

If there's something to be learned from all these losers It's that the price that you pay For arrogance and a false sense of immunity Is to face the wrath of a dying star (false sense of immunity is scar's no kill passes, reputation points, etc., which really didn't mean all that much in the end (see: Bdubs))

5. Passerine - The Oh Hellos: aside from the obvious bird symbolism (passerine are songbirds), the overall theme of this song fits the character pretty well! (i think it could also apply to DL jimmy if you squint)

You were the song that I'd always sing You were the light that the fire would bring But I can't shake this feeling that I was only Pushing the spear into your side again (3L typical desert/light/sun/fire imagery, with a bonus helping this time of 3L typical self doubt and/or survivor's guilt! you love to see it)

My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream Purifying the holy rock to melt the gilded seams It don't bring me relief, no it don't bring me nothing (more arson what can i say- also the hollow existentialism that comes with killing your friends)

When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord (ok i like to imagine this line as grian realizing that scar's SL win means he goes to hang out with the winners now, meaning uhoh reunion time! that's about to be awkward!)

6. Do It All The Time - IDKHBTFM: yeah i know it doesn't seem like it fits at first, but i think parts of it captures the spontaneous silliness of 3L pretty well

No reason why I'm only doing anything I want to do Because I do it all the time We're taking over the world A little victim-less crime (making monopolies (or trying to) really just because)

Now we're so young But we're probably gonna die It's so fun We're so good at selling lies (this one's pretty on the nose, but you get the idea)

and that's all for grian! stay tuned for LL!scott next!

#life series winners #traffic smp #trafficblr #life series smp #the life series #gtws #pearlescentmoon #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #scott smajor #3rd life #desert duo #third life #last life #limited life #secret life #double life #life series spoilers

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kikikiwi27498 · 4 months

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Good morning darling! Here are some more yr fic asks! I'm curious about 20, 36, 37, 42 and 44 💜

Wish you a splendiferous Sunday!

Hello! Thank you so much for asking, and sorry this took so long! Work has been crazy and I might have gone a little overboard haha. I'm going to answer everything in one ask, so here are numbers 6-13 as well. Also these are basically all Wilmon fics because I love those boys so much.

From the 2023 Young Royals Fanfic Ask List: (I'll do more of these if people want, I love talking about fics)

6. Favorite one-shot fanfic: Pretty much everything by NerdGirl07, especially Promise Me (You're Safe) and Centre of the Storm.

7. Favorite chaptered fanfic: I have so may favorites. As Long As We Have Each Other by groenendael (@groenendaelfic) is my current favorite post-season 2 fic. Right now I'm reading Doesn't Everyone Belong in the Arms of the Sacred by painterssong (@alltoowille) and I'm loving it.

8. Fluff recommandation: This is such an angst-heavy fandom, sometimes it's hard to find pure fluff. I loved Playing House by LovelyLittleLosers (@lovelylittlelosers), Wille experiencing normal things, even just getting lost in Ikea, brings me so much joy.

9. Crack recommandation: Simon Eriksson: Just Some Guy From Biology and Patience Is A Virtue and I Have None, both by fandom_commitment_issues (@zee-has-commitment-issues).

10. Smut recommandation: Love Would be Burning Red by embracethevoid (@ungaroyals) and disruptedthesky (@omar-rudeberg) and You Can Send Me to the Lord by YoungRydbergs for smut with plot. They're both parts of series, so you might want to read the other parts first, especially for You Can Send Me to the Lord. If you want smut with less plot, I liked the Sense and Sensuous series by YulianaHenderson. (one of these days I need to make a spicy fic rec list)

11. Angst recommandation: This fandom writes so many incredible angst fics, it's hard for me to pick! I loved A Palm to My Mouth, I Said it, Almost by MyArtificialFlowers and It's All So Incredibly Loud by pysanky (@pysankywrites-updates). Please read the tags before reading these, they are both very angsty.

12. Kid fic recommandation: I love kid fics so much and girl dads Wilmon even more, though I have many thoughts about whether Wilmon would want their kids to grow up royal. Some of my favorites are Thoughts On a Stormy Night by LaChicaMarvel and Painted Memories by NerdGirl07, as well as When Dividing up the Universe, You Could Have Mine by the_old_stairs.

13. Christmas fic recommendation: And That's How Simon Got Banned from Christmas Decorating by ASkyofKai. If you want a slightly angsty one, Merry Crisis by pysanky (@pysankywrites-updates) - ngl I'm low-key obsessed with the Third Year Things series, it's perfect and everyone should go read it right now. (if anyone knows any other third year Wilmon fics please let me know, I'm dying to read more)

20. Your « not Wilmon » favorite ship/couple: Henry/Walter (do they have a ship name?? Wenry? Halter?) probably. It's an angsty post-breakup fic, but I loved Closure by stretchoutandwait (@stretchoutfics).

36. Your favorite trope: This is kind of basic, but I love friends to lovers. I'll also always read a sick fic where Character A has to take care of Character B (bonus points if Character B insists Character A leaves so they don't get sick, and/or they deny that they're sick), such as Baby, You're the Cure (So Let Me Close to You) by isnt_that_wizard (@skateboardtotheheart) - it's part of a series, but you can read it on its own.

37. The trope you didn't expect to like: Only Fools Remain Sane by Elin98 made me love fake dating.

42. Do you like to comment on the fic you read: I do! I'm just really bad at doing it consistently because I tend to write whole essays so it takes me a long time.

44. On what device do you read: Mostly my phone, but I use my laptop too.

#katie answers #katie's fic recs #darktwistedgenderplural #young royals #young royals fan fiction #fan fiction

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 months

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The Cactus (Killshot, Part 2.)

“Choices have consequences.” - Simon Riley, 2022

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: Simon never liked acting on a whim, but the mysterious flourish doesn't leave his thoughts, so he decides to break his habits. One day, he becomes a witness to Y/N's past catching up with her, which marks the beginning of their friendship.

A/N: I'm actually so insecure about this series, aaaaa. I haven't written anything in a year properly and I'm so afraid people won't like my iteration of Simon. However, there isn't much to base it off because not like we witness their day-to-day life in CoD anyway. Also, I'm going away for the next few days - chapter 3 is like 25 % finished, but I won't be able to work on it, so the next update should be here around Monday, Tuesday next week (Sunday if I'll clutch it). Sorry for the typos x.

Warnings: SIMON AND READER RIZZING EACH OTHER UP WITH ONE-LINERS (they cringe), both of them generally gushing over one another, and mentions of a past abusive relationship.

Word count: 6.1K

Tagging: @poohkie90

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Throughout his life, for as long as he could remember, Simon Riley considered himself to be a person of habit. He preferred a dull, monotonous routine over living his days out carelessly and freely. If he wasn't one of the higher-ranking members of SAS, he'd probably settle for a repetitive job where there would be little to no surprise- he'd likely become an office worker. When talking about routine, of course, Simon didn’t count in his paperwork, deployments, basically all job-related activities or occasional hangouts with his friends, that happened infrequently anyway.

Simon wasn't always like this, no. Back when his old man had all five together, he was what you'd call 'a normal child'. Back then, they were a normal family.

Simon vaguely recalled a train he loved to play with, the warm feeling of safety that his mum's kisses on the forehead brought, the safety when he could play with Tommy, just running around in the park pretending to be a pilot. Naturally, that all went to bloody shit. His old man lost all of his marbles. When Simon finally left home, he promised himself he would take full control of his life. His comfort in routine was the result of his father’s A+ upbringing. It taught him many lessons, some of which kept Simon up at night even as a grown, 6'3 man; moments when he felt like he's unable to protect himself or those surrounding him. Due to his many psychological evaluations, profilings and talks with the military shrink, he knew all the feelings were irrational. He was trying to fight those feelings the best he could. Simon was a fucking ace when it came to his job, he was able of taking people out in sixty various ways, snipe from blocks away, feel someone's presence way before they'd move... And yet, his father, his father's leather belt and his father's exotic pets brought him to his knees years after everything had been said and done. If he were to slip into a comfortable, never-changing routine, he would have under full control, he wouldn’t have to be wary of unexpected pain or punches that bring him to the ground, make him feel small and weak. He wouldn't have to be afraid of his demons that much... Wouldn't have to be afraid of feeling like a little, helpless child.

Now, throughout his adulthood, his day-to-day routine was firmly given - hour after hour, Simon’s brain knew what his body should be doing and it followed the schedule to a dot. For fucks sake, he was the kind of person who went out to buy groceries every two days and even on days he didn’t have to buy anything, Simon walked to the shop for the sake of keeping up with his routine. Due to this part of him, he could be perceived as a bit of a nut job. Almost everyone who'd ever been inside his apartment called him a cleaning freak - while in reality, it was just easy to keep the flat tidy thanks to a firmly given schedule. Simon didn't mind his flat or himself getting messy, otherwise, he would go insane during deployment. He didn't mind getting down and dirty, he didn't mind getting his clothes ripped, he didn't mind getting his body covered in scars if it meant the mission's success. It just meant that every day at 7 p.m., Simon did the dishes and disinfected most of the surfaces inside his house. He couldn't recall a day when he'd have dust in his flat except for when he came home from deployment. The fact that Simon owned little to no decoration inside his flat meant he didn't have to fiddle-faddle with dust catchers. First thing every morning? Putting on his baklava so he wouldn’t punch the mirror while looking at his reflection; followed closely behind with setting a kettle on the stove to get the tea going. Simon also had periodical tasks, as he named them - buying shoes every six months, and wardrobe renewal every three months.

His life was just a big scheme of periodically repeating tasks in which revelled. No surprises, no pain, no belittling - just Simon taking the reigns over his life.

However, something changed after Johnny and Cassie's proposal dinner. He couldn't point his finger at what it was, but his routine was missing something. And it was bugging Simon the fuck off. When Simon let his mind wander about, he caught himself going back to meeting the florist, Y/N as she introduced herself. His mind was considerate enough to let him play the memories again and again; all the alien feelings as they brewed inside his chest, him not being able to vocalize it, him not being able to speak properly when she looked at him. A hint of interest in her eyes as she realized why he accompanied Johnny. The flame of her warmth surrounding each action, word and expression. The tone of her voice, the fact that she was gorgeous... Simon had to see her again. He needed to talk to her again, ask her out if he'd find the courage.

Truth be told, he wasn't a stranger to hookups and attempts at getting into a relationship. Problems came when Simon tried to open up. The problems came after the act had ended. A one-night stand was fun enough until the girl asked if he'd like breakfast or if he'd like to repeat it someday. Simon loved the intimacy something as simple as sex could bring, he enjoyed the passionate emotions and friction of bodies... Until consequences came. Until the 'next morning' hit him right in his gut. Until he woke up next to them, seeing them sleep. Until he quickly put on his clothes and ran off like a scared little boy.

When it came to establishing a relationship, whether emotional or strictly physical, was when problems started to arrive... And never stopped coming. The last time he gave into giving this a try was four years ago. This experience kept him from dating ever since. His longest relationship? Half a fucking year, ended up with him getting deployed. Frankly, Simon started to feel very strongly about the lass he was seeing, he even planned on asking her to move in, he wanted to tell her he loved her. As he came to see her with a flower in his hand, some naked bozo answered the door. Naturally, actions spoke faster than words, so he packed a solid fucking punch. Needless to say, he hadn't seen Erica since. Not that he was sad about it, he was just brokenhearted and upset.

But you... Simon had never felt this strongly about anyone when meeting them for the first time, not even Erica made him as flustered and overtaken with emotion as you did. Trying to meet you, however, brought needed changes to his routine. Consciously pushing against the order set in his life was an enormous, almost unrealistic task. On the other hand, he was doing it for a good reason - if this meant he would be able to see you, he was willing to risk the restlessness that breaking the stereotype brought. On top of this, it was a well-known fact that working on administration outside the office greatly improved one’s overall mood. Or, so Price advised him.

Also, Simon was well aware that using the phrase ‘seeing you’ wasn’t fitting - he’d never gotten as far as making a contact. He started slowly - frequenting the cafe opposing Rosemary’s to scout out the terrain. He even noticed its name, Grind On. That made him chuckle. The man started taking notice of your presence in the shop - the very periodic nature of your shifts didn’t seem to change, which brought some relief and comfort; he’d be able to set a routine around this. Soon, he found himself sitting in the café every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to match your schedule; over time, he’d found himself a dead angle within the café in which none of the other guests could read the paperwork he was going through. The table was placed directly opposite the entrance to Rosemary’s, so Simon could watch as you created hundreds of bouquets over the span of getting used to his new way of living.

Even going out as frequently made him feel a tiny bit better, being around people as often was always alien to Simon, but simply letting life flow around him was making him feel easier. Not everyone was after his throat, not everyone stared at him as if they were about to shit their pants. No. To most people, Simon was just 'that rando they met on the street'. After some time, the baristas remembered his face (in a way) and his order (plain breakfast tea with a muffin, sometimes the soup of the day if he was feeling courageous) and started treating him as a regular, mainly a young bloke named Jason and a middle-aged woman named Anne. No more weird looks at his baklava, no more fear in their eyes. Just pleasantries. They even started asking him about his plans, his day, his mood, his job. Simon rarely gave in to the small talk, but it made him smile. He'd even go as far as to nod at the other regulars before putting his laptop onto the table, and plugging it in. Other times, Simon would bring a book or the newspaper. His eyes were on you the entire time, though. Oftentimes, he felt like an agent on a tailing mission, as if he was observing the suspect from afar, trying to gather intel. He had to reason with himself, telling himself his intention wasn't to pry, let alone stalk you - he just needed time to figure out how to approach you. He hadn’t got anyone to buy flowers for, which complicated the situation a fair share.

On Mondays, he’d take his favourite spot in the café in the early morning, watching you open up the shop. Each time, you were accompanied by Bonnie, who ran after you happily, barking as you teased her with a smile. Simon noticed that Bonnie’s collars switched frequently - sometimes, you’d tie an enormous plushy ribbon around her neck, other times it was a stylish bandana collar, and sometimes you picked the traditional, singular colour collar. Ghost found this habit of yours utterly cute, and soon, he realized he was looking forward to what collar Bonnie would be wearing next time. On Wednesdays, he’d come two hours before your shift was ending, making sure everything would go smoothly. There was never a singular hiccup throughout the month of his observations, he had to admit. On Fridays, he’d usually just drop by around noon to simply… Look at you, afore you from afar. Simon always had a keen eye, it was a requirement when it came to his job, and was a patient observer. He liked the way you always waved at leaving customers or measured the flowers’ length using your eyes only, always cutting off the exact length which needed to be cut.

As Cassie said, you were talking to the flowers a whole lot - each time, when the bouquet was near completion, you’d push your face next to the flower, whispering sweet nothings. As he watched you, oftentimes fiddling with his teaspoon, Simon caught himself daydreaming. What if he was your bouquet? What would you whisper in his ear if you'd get the chance? Would your fingers run across his jawline with matching subtlety, setting his body ablaze? Would it turn you as much as the thought turned him on? Could the two of you perhaps have some fun with the ribbons you use in your bouquets all the time? How would it look like if you’d wove it into your hair and Simon was the one to slowly pull the strands out one by one? How would it look and feel tying your wrists together? As soon as the clothes started disappearing in his imagination, Simon had to snap himself out of the trance. Thanks to this, he bent more than three teaspoons. The baristas usually laughed it off and brought him another one, and thank God they couldn't see how heavily Simon blushed under the mask.

His favourite moments, however, were those in between - the small moments during which he went on a smoke break and managed to listen to some of your music. Yea, it was still fucking tacky, but the tunes were starting to grow on Simon. A few times, he even caught himself pulling his phone out just to let Shazam search for the mysterious tune. There was a regular pattern traceable in your music choices. It was closely tied to the type of order you've got. Each type had its assigned playlist and thanks to that, Simon started to understand the habits and recurring phenomenons in your work. On some days, the oldies blasted through the flower shop as you waltzed through it with Bonnie hot on your heels, laughing while putting the flowers together - those were usually assigned for lovers, for dates and overall happy occasions. On other days, slow ballads and nonsensical love songs played, which usually meant you were working on wedding bouquets or big-event-type bouquets, just like Johnny's proposal bouquet. Simon genuinely hated it when you got a gig for funerals or other ceremonies similar to it - the shop remained silent - Simon noticed you usually didn’t even turn on most of the fairy lights at your disposal. Your mood dropped and the happy antics disappeared as you tied the flowers together, making sure they were honourable enough.

As per usual by that point, this happened on a Friday, and Simon sat at his favourite spot. There was a chai latté in front of him (he started to love the flavour of cinnamon harmonizing with the rest of the blend as well as the drink sending a wave of warmth through his entire body) along with a chocolate muffin. He just got back in and Anne was on his ass… That was sweet of her. As Simon looked up to nod her way, the barista just winked back with a knowing smile. The mood was good and you didn't have a lot of orders per se, but you had enough traffic to still make profits - Simon just back from his smoke break, hearing a hypnotizing love song playing inside the flower shop when a customer opened the door. Before picking the book off the table, he turned his head in your direction, expecting that you'd be walking the gentleman through what the flowers meant, helping to pick out the best combination. Instead, you were giving the customer a deadpan, frozen behind the counter, your expression devoid of any emotion. The man was clearly talking to you, gesturing heatedly and Simon didn’t have to go far to conclude he was most likely yelling his lungs out at you. ... better than her mum, anyway.

The words rang through Simon’s head as you finally took in a breath, yelling right back at the guy with matching intensity, shoving him out of the door. This was all Simon needed to see - he started packing his stuff, giving Anne the total and left a generous tip before he walked outside the shop. While you walked behind back onto the counter, falling onto it while your fists grabbed onto your hair as you gasped for air, the guy stared through the door at you. A moment later, he turned on his heels to leave the place. Simon was faced with a challenge - either he could go and comfort you (which would finally get him the chance to talk to you) or tail the guy, finding out a bit about him. Maybe even to have a chat with him. Against his better judgment, Simon's body moved on its own as soon as the mysterious man started walking towards Soho.

Simon genuinely didn't know for how long he tailed the guy - he watched him get into a double-decker in the centre, leaving while memorizing which route this number took. Simon was thinking about following him and getting on the bus as well, but the image of you being distressed was burdening him. Who even was the guy? Your boyfriend? Were you seeing someone? Honestly, Simon didn't consider this possibility beforehand. God, what if you were seeing someone and he'd come across as a perv and a stalker? Or... Could it be the one troubling you? Could he just be a rude customer? Could he be trying to wreak havoc in your daily life?

Fifteen minutes later, Simon was standing in front of Rosemary’s again. He fought himself for a long time before he entered the shop - as to be expected, you were nowhere to be seen, the tunes were playing silently, tuned down to a mere whisper. Because the door to the employees' facility was cracked open, it didn’t take Bonnie long enough to poke her head out with curiosity - and once more, as soon as her eyes landed on Simon, she was ready on her feet and running right to him. The adoration in her eyes made him chuckle as he mirrored Johnny’s actions; he leaned down to pick her up, scratching the sweet spot behind her ears. This ruckus was enough to lure you out as well.

Simon’s heart nearly broke when he saw your puffy eyes - suddenly, all the energy was gone, there was no warmer to be found and no smiles to be given. “I’m so sorry. I’m on my break and forgot to lock the door. Could you perhaps come in fifteen…” - You started, still drying your eyes with a napkin. When you actually looked at the newcomer, you were visibly caught off guard... Simon hoped it wasn't the bad kind of surprise, but your expression made him sure it wasn't the case. Some of your warmth started to come back as you smiled gently. - “Ghost.” - Was all you whispered. You didn’t need to say much more, because even the endearing tone of your voice made Simon grin sheepishly, his heart doing a backflip in his chest.

“I can come back in fifteen. It’s not a problem.” “Really? I'd appreciate that, you’d be a sweetheart… My day isn’t going too well and I need a bit to pull my shit back together.” - You sighed, rolling your eyes upon going back to the encounter with your ex-boyfriend. He refused to give up, still claiming some fucked up form of ownership over you - the next time he’ll swing by to hit you with his bullshit, you were sure your hand will slip and you’ll slap him… Or worse, kill him or something. You’ve never considered yourself to be a violent person, but Billy was bringing out the worst of you, awakening some dark fucking demons inside you each time he dared to even break... Especially after all he had done. Simon, on the other hand, was enamoured with the nickname - he'd be a fucking sweetheart. Just the nickname alone weakened Simon’s knees, putting a boyish smile on his lips. His brain flashed around three million different scenarios during which you could call him sweetheart too, making his breath hitch a little.

“Mhm.” - Simon hummed as if it was obvious he'd do as you asked, waiting for his voice to regain its footing. Then, he reached out his palm in your direction. - “I’ll take this pretty girl out for a walk if that’s fine with you.” At first, your reaction to the offer wasn't clear - a furrow appeared on your face, looking him up and down with suspicion. All the tension was erased when you snickered, shaking your head. Within the next minute, you were giving Simon Bonnie's leash. Simon didn’t really expect you to comply, but it made him a bit more sure of his footing. You clearly trusted him enough to take care of your dog for fifteen minutes; whatever you thought of him, it had to be positive.

“Look at her. Barely half a year old and she’s already getting all the nice guys to herself. She’ll grow up to be a heartbreaker, mark my words.” - Giving Simon the leash, you walked to the duo to pet Bonnie as well. You’ve pressed a small bag into his palm as well - it was filled to the brim with various dog treats, snacks and small plastic bags for poop.

“Honestly, would you be able to resist these eyes? Just look at the lass.” - The man let slip par his slips, utterly enamoured by your beauty as he kept staring at you. Thankfully, you were too busy kissing the top of Bonnie’s head to notice the way he stared at you. “Hey, Y/N?” “Hm?” “Is there anything I can do for you? Would you wanna… Talk about it, perhaps? It could help you take your mind off things.” - Simon wondered, the question slipping past his lips on its own. You were paying him full attention now, locking your gaze with his. It almost looked like you were internally debating over whether to tell Simon what happened or not, but then you shook your head with one of the sweetest smiles anyone had ever given to him. - “It’s just petty personal bullshit, nothing I can’t deal with on my own. Anyway… You two should go now, you’re disturbing an artist at work.”

There she was - the girl Simon daydreamed about for the last couple of weeks. Even though you didn’t confide in him, his offer clearly made you feel easier. The light was slowly coming back to your eyes, your smile was melting away the ice surrounding his chest, and your warmth was making Simon feel better about himself. You talked to him precisely like you did to Johnny - as if you were the oldest of friends bumping into each other, just chatting about.

“On our merry way, ma’am.” - Simon saluted just to make you laugh. After, he put Bonnie on the ground, making sure the leash is locked onto her collar properly. As he heard you chuckle while he closed the door, he smiled to himself too. - “See you in a bit, you two! Give him hell, Bon Bon!”

As Simon promised, he took Bonnie for a walk around the block of various shops, and Asian restaurants mixed into residential buildings. Because of Bonnie and her curious, friendly nature, Simon was suddenly the target of attention - a 6'3 man with a mask on his face walking around with a 6-month-old puppy of an Austrian shepherd with an enormous lime green ribbon around its neck sure made a lot of head turn around. Even though the duo walked pretty slowly, they still had some time to stop by Grind On, picking up chai latté and baked goods for. When Anne noticed Bonnie resting in Simon's arms, sniffing his baklava happily, she gasped as if he unravelled a secret.

“So that’s how it is! This makes a whole lot of sense.” - Anne murmured with a sheepish smile while working on the order - two chai lattés and a whole selection of baked goods; he knew you'd die for Grind On's croissants, but that couldn't be all you liked, right? Simon's eyebrows raised upon Anne's excitement, waiting for her to explain the mental gymnastics behind whatever she concluded. - “That’s why you’re here so often! That’s just adorable!” “What is?” - Simon deadpanned. “You’re coming here regularly often because you like to watch your girlfriend at work, what a lucky gal. Honestly, Y/N is one of the sweetest people working on the same block as us and she deserves to have a gentleman in her life, she’s got enough letdowns already. Don’t you think you can deceive me, darling, I know this sweet little girl all too well, right, Bonnie?” - Anne explained, gushing over how adorable Bonnie was. Her words caught Simon off guard. He, indeed, loved watching you work. And Anne calling you his girlfriend sounded so heavenly, but…

“She, ugh… Y/N isn’t my… She’s a friend of my friend. I just like this café, s’all.” - Simon uttered against his will, having Anne looking at him with a slight furrow. Her expression slowly grew gentler and gentler, turning into a motherly smile at the end as if she knew something Simon didn’t. It was precisely all the words Simon didn’t say out loud that told Anne everything she needed to know.

"I see. I hope you'll get the courage to tell her soon, then. It's like watching the beginning of a romance movie." - The woman whispered wickedly and winked at the duo. Simon nodded without a word, watching Anne put some extra goods into the paper bag. You deserved a gentleman. You've had enough letdowns in your life. What if Simon was a letdown? What if he wouldn't be what you deserved - what if you wouldn't accept his careful advances in the first place? He's been so into you that he hadn't stopped to think if you could be interested in him... And due to the small number of your interactions, Simon couldn't base his stance on anything. He basically didn't know you, he spent a month gushing about a stranger. He could ask Cassie about you, about what you've been like and what you're looking for... But that would give him away immediately.

As he put Bonnie back onto the ground, he was furrowing, being lost in his thoughts - not for long, though. You've seemingly got your shit together and started working on another order - there was a little boy standing in front of the counter, watching you with his mouth open. "Ghost!" - You exclaimed happily, smiling from ear to ear. Bonnie, as the little she-devil she was, ran to you immediately to totter around your feet. - "Was the walk nice, Bon Bon? I bet it was, yeah? Yeah." - The tone of your voice pitched as you leaned down to greet your dog, letting her lick your chin a few times.

It took just a moment to finish up the flower - the boy paid you 5 pounds for a singular red rose, all the decorations being counted in. "The rose wasn't worth only five quid, was it?" - Simon wondered. "Come on, be a romantic. He was about to ask his crush out, what monster would I be to stand in the way of young love?" "Right. You'll rather go broke." "Exactly, that's the spirit." - You bounced back immediately, pointing at the enormous paper bag in his palm. Without hesitation, Simon gave it to you to let you peek inside. As soon as you noticed all the goods, your expression froze a bit. That had to be worth at least fifty to sixty quid. - "What's that for?" "I asked Anne for three croissants, but as soon as she spotted Bon, she filled it to the brim." "Are you a regular in Grind On?" - You wondered. "Started frequenting it after tasting the chai latté you recommended. Couldn't shake it out of my head, I hadn't tasted anything like that before. Also, Soho is really nice at this time of year."

For a bit, neither of you said a word. Your eyes locked onto one another, your breath hitched and got irregular. Simon noticed that you shivered, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. Only if he'd know how flustered you were - your entire face was flushed, you had to battle the corner of your lips just so you wouldn't smile like a freaking idiot. You couldn't get him out of your head. The mysterious Ghost guy accompanying Cassie's fiancé on the day of their proposal, you couldn't forget how much he didn't belong in the flower shop. The first moment he walked in you knew that he wasn't feeling too good about the place, so you didn't want to intrude by prying information out of him. The warm, intense gaze of his eyes made you smile each time you recalled it. Usually, you'd stop anything you've been doing so you could giggle and fluster; at that point, you had to remind yourself that you were a grown, independent woman - not a crushing high-schooler. You hadn't even seen his face, for fuck's sake. On the other hand... The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat each time he spoke. When they left the shop, you watched them disappear in the distance for as long as you could, wondering if you'd ever see him again.

As to be expected, you asked Cassie about him the next time you got together for a coffee. You were desperately trying to lure any sort of information out of her, but she didn't budge. She explained that Ghost was particularly vigilant about sharing pieces of his life, keeping his private life very private. The two had known each other for almost a year and there was a lot she didn't know about him - according to her, Cassie didn't believe that Johnny would know that much more than her. What Cassie did know, however, she didn't share out of sheer respect for their friendship. You respected her decision, not prying any further. All she gave you were vague assumptions - that Ghost was in his late twenties, that he'd been born and raised in the UK and that he'd joined the military fairly young. She also asked if you'd like to get his number, but you didn't accept - if Ghost would like you to have his number, he was the one to give it to you.

And now, Ghost was there, with you. Standing in front of you. Bringing you brewing hot chai latté and a horde of baked goods, just like he did before. You couldn't be sure, but you prayed this was his love language - because any guy before him was able to make you flustered by simply looking your way. Trying to act casual about how you stared at him, you cleared your throat and put the bag away with a gracious smile.

"I hope you'll have some with me, then, this would last me a week at least." "I had my share earlier in the afternoon, thank you, though." "Ah, I see." - You whispered, the disappointment clear in your face. At least you thought it had to be. - "What can I do for you? Anything on your mind? Can I tie you a special flower for a special girl? A girlfriend, perhaps?" - You wondered, trying to act professionally about it while you prayed his response would be that there is no girlfriend.

"That's strange." - The man uttered under his breath, chuckling with disbelief. This took you by surprise, making you chuckle as well. - "That's the second time today someone assumed I'm shopping for a girlfriend." "And... Are you?" "No." - Simon deadpanned matter-of-factly. - "There's no girlfriend to shop for." - He explained, making you giddy up a bit. Bonnie was now running around the two of you, laying on her back so you'd pet her - but you were unable to take your eyes off the man. These eyes, man, they were beautiful.

"What are you looking for, then? Would it be bold to assume you're shopping for a flower?" "I actually am." "You're in the right place then, I can walk you through everything you'd need to know about them. What kind of flower are you looking for?" "I'd hope so, you're a florist." - Simon muttered under his breath. First, it came across as a rude comment - when he flickered his eyes at you, you realized he was trying to joke around. Naturally, you grinned and shook your head. - "The windowsill in my flat looks a bit bland, decided it's time to liven it up. The problem is that I'm not a flower guy."

"I'd assume so, you're not the one who studied to get this position." - you reiterated, shooting right back at Simon. You could see the baklava shift on his face, so you assumed he was smiling. "You know what one flower said to the other when it was asking for a chance?" - You mumbled as you started to figure out what would be appropriate for Ghost - you knew he and Johnny were military, and Cassie confided that they often got deployed. It had to be a flower that could go without regular watering for months, but it would also have to be something that wouldn't mold easily. Simon watched you move closer and closer to succulents, caught off guard by the question.

"Come on, Ghost. It's a good one, I promise, don't make me feel like a dud." - You mumbled impatiently when he was silent for far too long. - "You know what one flower said to the other when it was asking for a chance?" "No idea." "Don't worry, love, I'll grow on ya." - You finished with a wicked grin on your face, waiting for Simon to process the joke - as soon as he realized what you just did., the man let out a chuckle. It came across as if he did his best to suppress it, because this joke was one of the corniest he'd heard - the only person with even worse jokes was MacTavish himself. "You're one of these, huh?" "It's a good joke, come on." "Never said it isn't." - Simon muttered quietly, feeling a big smile breaking out on his face, no matter how much he fought it. A cute, beautiful florist with flower puns and one-liners? With each passing second, you were getting better and better, almost too good to be true.

"There she is." - You mumbled, pulling out a small round cacti. - "It's a cactus usually recommended to beginners, so no need to be worried here. This small lady is a part of Echinopsis, a cacti group native to South America. This one is from Argentina specifically, so it prefers warmer temperatures and a lot of sunlight, perfect for a windowsill." "Why did you go for this one specifically?" "Because it's very well known for its dramatic buds. And you strike me as someone who secretly revels in drama." "That was cold." - Ghost rebutted immediately, amusement clearly audible in his voice. "... Also because it prefers sandy soil and can go without water for a fair share of time. As long as you leave it in sunlight and don't let it freeze to death, it should easily wait until you get back from deployment." - You finished, flustering and looking away. It had to be obvious you memorized every last bit of detail about Ghost, no? There wasn't much you'd know about him, but you remembered a thing here and there.

"It's perfect for me, then." - Simon agreed, carefully taking the cactus from your palm to give it a look. He quite liked it, it was very small and cute. - "Were you joking about the buds?" "No, this cactus' buds are enormous and colourful. Haven't met a person who wouldn't like the look of it." "I'll take it, then. Have you heard flowers are capable of kissing, by the way?" "They're what?" - You snickered back as you prepared the cactus for his new home - you'd packed everything Simon might need as someone new to owning a plant. "Yeah, they have Tulips." - Simon added matter-of-factly. At first, you deadpanned at him before you shook your head in disbelief. "And you were judging me for liking flower puns?" "Hadn't ever said I didn't like flower puns. What's the total?"

Without putting any numbers into the register, you put a fancy paper bag in front of Simon. It had everything he might need - fresh soil, a bigger flower pot, a small scapula to help him re-plant the cactus once it grows bigger. "It's on the house." "Not in a million years. What's the total?" "The total is: it's on the house, Ghost. I don't a single dime." "Y/N, come on." "Take it as my way of paying you back for making sure Grind On won't have any baked goods to sell during their afternoon shift." "That's how it is?" - Ghost snickered with amusement. You've been clearly assuming you're the dispute going your way, so you nodded proudly. "That's how it is, sir." "I'll take it as a prepay for the next delivery, then." - Simon informed you as if you didn't have a say in this, earning a gentle smile from you. The light inside your eyes intensified as you looked at the man with adoration, pushing your palms into the pockets of your jeans just so you wouldn't start playing with your fingers excitedly.

"Will you come to see me again?" "Affirmative, ma'am." - The man breathed out, feeling his heartbeat picking up as he realized you'd been excited about him dropping by. "I better look up some military jokes so we can make fun of your occupation too." "Got one to get you going." "I'm listening." - You alluded, leaning closer to Ghost. "Why are there no insects around the base?" "Why aren't the insects there?" "It's a no-fly zone." - Simon finished and after you scoffed, he jokingly saluted, turning around to leave the shop. That was when you called out his name, so he'd halt and look over to you. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you again." - Ghost was searching for any sign of irony in your expression, for anything that would lead him to believe that you weren't being serious with him. But there were none. The man didn't answer, he simply nodded and lowered his head before walking out - something led you to believe that his cheeks turned bright pink under the baklava, but you'd only seen it for a second, so it could be just a hallucination.

#simon riley cod #simon riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley #here we gooo #we thinking about spicy spicy already #call of duty #call of duty: modern warfare #cod mw #killshot series #no johnny this time sadly #but don't u worry #i plan great things for johnny and the reader #just you wait #they will be the chaotic trio along with cass ofc #bonnie shaping out to be a thicc legend #i do love this dog with my life

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sarcasmandships · 1 year

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his! do you have any peterick fic recommendations? i've already read all your works on ao3 and i'm waiting desperately for updates so until then i need something to read because i feel like i've already read soooo many fics and i'm running out of material plz help :)

hiiii, im glad you like my fics and I'm sorry im terrible at updating i used to be so consistent but uni is just killing me with assignments rn! but i promise the restaurant au will get an update soon and im planning to edit death by a thousand cuts before i add to it again cos im just not really happy with the quality of it, but that will also be coming soon i promise!

anyways onto what you're really asking about; recommendations. im not sure if you're looking for smut or stories with plot so here's just a mix of things i've really liked ( i suck at bookmarking things so I've just searched through my history and there's deffos stuff i've missed im sorry)

Literally just read kick me in the face & ask me how my head feels by fkingdeathwish today - devoured this in a few hours and this fic made me like stories in first person. its so good and also has the best andy/joe/pete friendship dynamics i was smiling the whole time. but also features a lot of petekey tho which might not be ur thing

(smut) going down, down by @pyrchance - i read this the other day and its 10/10

Anything by snitchesandtalkers but some of my favourites are i've been checking my list, crooked love, making out inside crashed cars (smut), silver screen dream, the antidote to everything (except for me), we're friends when you're on your knees (not finished but still so so worth reading), amateur pornographers (smut obvs), a little less 16 candles (a little more bite me)

brutal love by @notastumph- this one is so good but like i also had to take a 5 min break between chapters cos the angst and heartbreak was getting to me so much (in the best way)

and i'll burn by jiksa - just read the tags first

the house on rosewood lane by scarredsodeep - this one is so fucking good, i don't even like horror and i was obsessed with this and couldn't stop reading

hey doctor, i'm certifiable by derridoid (smut) - so good and the ending made me laugh sm

husband on the payroll by das_verlorence-kind - what can i say, i love the fake relationship trope

also ive changed my plea to guilty by das_verlorence_kind - again just check the tags incase it’s not ur thing

accidents will happen by rusty76

again pretty much everything by @annoyingpetekey but some favourites are (i just wanna) get some, so pretty (when you're on your knees), and come on (and fuck me like you doubt me) - all smut

That Schrodinger guy made some really good points, you know? by @earlgreytea68

but i'm reflecting light by looks_a_scream - this one is deffos a favourite

the purgatory of my hips by auralcosm

edgar allan potato by emeralcitydowntowngirl - another absolute favourite, i have such a soft spot for soulmate AUs but I've never read one as good as this, again features a lot of petekey but it is all in the past

to take what i'm given with grace by likeasugarcube - their whole 'marriage of convience' series is amazing but this is the main fic and it is sooo good

anything by littlesnowpea but favourites include love in the middle of a firefight, but there's no preparing for this, and nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy (pls read tags first tho)

december is for cynics by looks_a_scream - another favourite

secrets i don’t want to keep by perceived_nobility (although i think they’ve changed their name to invisible_man now) anyways this one is only accessible if you have an ao3 account but it is so so good an hurts in all the best ways, would advise paying attention to some of the tags tho

Also pretty much anything written by appleremix or vampyerika

Ok so I have like another 30+ pages in my history but this is already so long, so i hope you enjoy some of these assuming you haven't read them already!

#anon #fic recommendations #peterick

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sequinsmile-x · 7 months

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Forty Seven

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

So sorry that it's been a couple of weeks since I updated this <3 I promise I'll go back to updating this once a week.

As of this chapter we are officially in Season 6 of CM, and there will be some recognisable plot lines from that season but set in this universe, with of course the notable absence of Ian Doyle...that doesn't mean there won't be drama though ;)

Please let me know what you think of this chapter, your feedback means the world <3

-x-

Words: 3.4k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily blows out a breath, her cheeks briefly puffing out with it, as she examines her hair closely in the mirror. It was shorter than it had been in years, the lengths of it scraping at her shoulders whenever she turned her head, short, almost sharp looking, layers framing her face and leading up to her bangs. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it, no matter how many times Aaron assured her she looked beautiful, but her hairstylist had told her it was the best way of covering up the fact she was starting to lose hair.

Postpartum hair loss, as it turned out, was no joke.

She hears a familiar cooing noise from behind her and she turns to look at Lily, unable to stop herself from chuckling at the sight of her daughter and the wide, gummy, smile she had on her face the moment Emily looks at her.

Emily felt a strange sense of pride that she was the only one Lily had smiled at so far, the infant always seemingly overjoyed when her mother was in the room, although she’d never admit that to her husband who seemed a little disappointed he hadn’t been the reason Lily had smiled yet.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling at sweet girl, it’s all your fault Mommy had to have a haircut,” she says as she walks over and lifts Lily out of her bouncer chair. She stands up straight and secures her baby in her arms, and it’s only when she’s walking out of the room that she realises she’d been able to do so without it hurting at all, without any residual ache from her c-section scar. “You’re totally worth it though.”

She checks herself in the mirror one more time and, despite the haircut she hadn’t quite got used to yet, she feels more confident than she had in months. She felt more at home in her new body, more used to the changes it had gone through. She knew it was still early days, that she was still only two months post-partum, but she felt like she was turning a corner with everything.

The last step, the one thing she desperately wanted to do, was to have sex with her husband.

She’d only been signed off for strenuous activity for a couple of weeks but they still hadn’t gone any further than the soft kisses that had become part of their daily lives. She knows Aaron is trying to take her lead, that he doesn’t want to make her feel pressured into anything, but she missed him.

She checks the time and realises Aaron and the team will be home soon. They’d been on a case in Atlantic City for a few days and he’d sent her a text to say they were on the way home.

She looks down at Lily, smiling when the baby looks up at her and smiles, something that Emily knows will never lose its shine.

“Shall we go to the office and see Daddy and all your friends?” She asks, kissing Lily’s forehead before she walks towards the front door, “They’ll be excited to see you after a few days in Atlantic City. I took Daddy there for a weekend away once,” she says, placing Lily into her car seat, “You’re too little to know about all of that now but there was a lot of sinning and winning,” she smiles as she strokes the tip of Lily’s nose, eliciting a wide smile, “But don’t tell Daddy I told you that, it will be our little secret.”

She gets herself ready to leave the house and grabs the diaper bag, still not quite used to just how much stuff was needed to go anywhere with a tiny baby. She secures the car seat on its base and double-checks that Lily is strapped in properly before she closes the door and gets in the driver's seat. The moment she starts the engine Lily starts to cry and Emily sighs sadly.

“I know baby,” she says as she starts to drive away, “The car is so mean.” Lily had hated the car from the very start, something Emily had been assured was normal and that she’d get used to it, but it didn’t make hearing her baby cry any easier. Especially when she didn’t want to leak milk through her clothes, “How about I play your music for you?” She switches on the car’s audio system and shakes her head, a wry smile on her face, when The White Album starts to play and Lily immediately stops crying, “A Daddy’s girl already.”

___

The moment she walks onto the BAU’s floor Penelope is on her, an excited smile on her face as she takes Lily’s car seat from her and carries it the rest of the way to Derek’s desk where she puts it down.

“Peaches,” she exclaims as she looks at Emily, before she lifts Lily from the car seat, “Love the new hair,” she turns her attention back to the baby, “And look at you Miss Lily you’ve gotten so big.”

Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrow at her friend, watching as Dave, Spencer and Derek all stand behind her to look at Lily as Penelope holds her against her shoulder, “Thanks, Pen. What are you doing here anyway instead of in your office? Did you sense I was nearby with the littlest Hotchner?”

Penelope narrows her eyes at Derek when he laughs before she turns her attention back to Emily, “As much as I would love to say I have cute radar for this little one,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down Lily’s back, “I’m actually here for the gossip.”

Emily watches as her friend tilts her head towards Aaron’s office and she follows everyone’s gaze. The door was closed as were the blinds and she furrows her brows, “Is Aaron in there?”

Dave nods as he sits on the edge of Derek’s desk, “Along with Strauss and JJ, they went in there the moment we got back.”

“They were holed up in there before we went on the case too,” Derek says, and Emily frowns, wondering why Aaron hadn’t mentioned it to her, a sense of foreboding making her stomach churn. He only ever held stuff back from her when he felt like he had to protect her, something that irritated her no matter how well intentioned it was.

“They were? Why?”

Derek shrugs before taking Lily from Penelope, claiming it was his turn as he held the baby, “No idea, we couldn’t get a straight answer from them.”

Lily cries, shifting unhappily in Derek’s arms who immediately looks panicked, and Emily takes a step forward only for Dave to offer his hands to Derek who hands the baby over.

“Cosa c'è che non va, piccolo,” Dave says as he paces slightly, smirking at Derek when she stops crying almost immediately.

“She doesn’t speak Italian, Rossi,” Derek grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, and Dave laughs.

“She’s two months old, she doesn’t speak English either,” Dave replies, raising his eyebrow and Emily shakes her head at both of them.

“Babies don’t start to recognise language until they are 6-9 months old,” Spencer chips in, “But in the first few months they start to pick up on tone of voice and how to interpret emotions in voices.”

“I don’t know why I read all those baby books when I could have just asked you, Spence,” Emily says, patting him on his shoulder. It felt good to be here, to be surrounded by the people she knew were her family, and for a brief moment, she almost regrets the fact she wouldn’t be part of the team moving forward. Grief for a part of her life she’d never get back takes up space in her chest for a few seconds before Lily starts to cry again, and it all fades away as she looks at her daughter. It was worth it. Every change and sacrifice she’d made in her life was worth it because she was going to make sure her daughter knew she came first no matter what. “I’ll take her.”

She eases Lily back into her arms and feels the usual sense of relief she felt every time she held her little girl against her chest. She looks back up at her friends and feels her cheeks go red when she realises they are all staring at her.

“What?” She asks, clearing her throat and raising her eyebrows, stopping herself from smiling when they all look away quickly as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

“Motherhood looks good on you,” Penelope says, a wistful look in her eyes, “That’s all.”

“But don’t worry,” Derek adds, his hand on Emily’s shoulder as he squeezes it, “You still look incredibly intimidating even when you’re holding a baby.”

She chuckles proudly and opens her mouth to respond but is cut off as Aaron’s office door opens and Strauss walks out, stalking away without even looking at them. JJ and Aaron follow shortly after with solemn looks on both their faces.

As soon as Aaron’s eyes meet Emily’s she feels the earlier uneasy feeling in her stomach take root, immediately blooming, the flowers spreading to her chest and clogging her lungs.

___

The journey home is a silent one, Lily fast asleep in the back of the car, exhausted from being loved on by everyone.

Emily keeps casting glances at her husband, her eyes fixed on how tightly he’s grasping the steering wheel. As they pull into their driveway she clears her throat, “Honey-”

“Not now, Em,” he says, cutting her off, the tone to his voice not one he often used with her. He sighs as he turns off the engine and turns to look at her, “Sorry, just…not yet,” he says and she nods. He smiles gratefully in return and looks into the back of the car, his smile going soft when he sees Lily’s still fast asleep in the reflection in the mirror they have attached to her car seat, “Want me to get her?”

“Yeah,” she replies, unclipping her seatbelt, “I fed her before we left Quantico, so you can probably take her straight upstairs.”

She knows he liked doing that. That he treasured the moments he had with their daughter when he got back from a case, and she thinks he needs it now more than ever. He reaches over the centre console and presses a kiss to her lips, “I’ll take her up, meet you in the living room?”

She nods, cupping his cheek and kissing him again before he pulls away, her thumb pressing into his dimple. She follows him into the house and watches as he takes Lily out of her car seat. It never failed to amaze her how gentle he was with Lily and Jack, how delicate he could be with hands that made a standard issue Glock look like a toy gun.

He carries Lily over and holds her so Emily can drop a kiss on her forehead, “See you in a few hours when you’re hungry again, sweet girl,” she kisses her again and stands up straight to look at her husband, “Do you want some scotch?”

He nods and secures Lily to his chest, “Thanks, sweetheart,” he turns and heads for the stairs, “Come on Lily-Pad.”

She blows out a breath as she watches them go and heads to the kitchen to pour him a drink before carrying it through to the living room. She takes a sip of it before she puts the glass down and sinks into the couch.

JJ was leaving the BAU.

It was a shock, something Emily hadn’t seen coming at all, and based on how the team had responded she hadn’t been the only one. It was another change for a group of people who didn’t always handle change well, and residual guilt for leaving the team herself was sparking in her blood. She knew things would be different, but JJ would still be in their lives, just not in the way they were used to.

Emily felt bad for her friend for being forced to do a job she had tried to turn down, but in a way that felt a little selfish, most of her concern right now was for Aaron. She knew her husband, she knew he’d shoulder this. That he’d take the blame from the team as if he could have stopped this, as if he hadn’t tried. It was a burden to bear that he rarely shared, one she wanted to help him carry.

“I tried to stop it.”

She turns at looks at him. He was standing a couple of feet away from the couch, his tie and suit jacket now gone and his hair ruffled from where he’d run his fingers through it, one of the tells he could never hide from her.

“I know you did, honey,” she replies, offering her hand to him, linking their fingers together when he takes it as he sits down next to her. She squeezes his hand and rests her head on his shoulder, “I know.”

He sighs and turns to kiss the top of her head. His chest felt tight, heavy and stuffed full of everything he knew he’d have to do now. The thought of navigating the team's reactions to this, to hiring a replacement not only for Emily but for JJ now too. Two gaps in his team that felt insurmountable, the women who had left them irreplaceable in every way. Emily lifts their hands to her lips and kisses his knuckles, smiling at him as their eyes meet.

At least Emily was right here with him. He hadn’t lost her. She hadn’t gone anywhere, hadn’t left a literal hole in his life. She’d made a decision to protect their family, something he thinks made him fall even more in love with her.

“Can we talk about something else?” He asks, wanting to think about anything other than this, “I just…I need a break.”

She nods and squeezes his hand. She was no stranger to needing to digest things herself first, it was one of the many ways they were similar, and she could give him this.

“Lily’s social security card arrived today,” she says as she leans into his side, feeling the tension seep from his shoulders as she changes the subject.

He smiles softly, “She’s a whole person recognised by the government now.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him and fights a smirk, “I have no idea where we’re going to keep that until she actually needs it.”

“I have Jack’s,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm. She looks at him curiously, and he smiles wryly, already knowing what she’s thinking, “Haley has the same…level of skill as you when it comes to keeping important documents safe so she asked me to look after it. I’ll make sure it’s kept with his.”

She hums and keeps her eyes fixed on the profile of his face, giving herself a moment before she carries on, pulling the folded envelope out of her jeans pocket before she hands it to him.

“It’s not the only thing that arrived in the mail today.”

He smiles curiously at her, the crease she loved in between his eyebrows making an appearance, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too hard. He unfolds the envelope and frowns as a credit card sized piece of plastic falls into his lap. He lifts it and turns it over to stare at it, his breath catching in his chest when he realises what it is. It was her social security card but it was new, the name on it standing out to him, forcing him to blink a few times to make sure he was reading it correctly.

Emily Elizabeth Hotchner.

“I applied for it when I did Lily’s at the hospital,” she says, shrugging as if it didn’t mean everything as he looks up at her, “I wanted to surprise you.”

He laughs, the sound catching in his chest, mixing in with the pride and love he felt growing there, “You…you changed your name?”

She nods, biting her lower lip as she tries to hold back the emotions that take her by surprise, her eyes burning with unexpected tears, “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat to stop her voice from shaking, “I changed my name.”

It takes a second for him to react, but he hauls her into his lap, swallowing the squeal she lets out with the movement as he kisses her. She settles herself into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips and her arms around his neck.

“I thought you didn’t want to,” he says, the hand not grasping the card in her hair, tangling in the shorter than usual locks. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him. He didn’t need her to have the same name as him to know she loved him, and one of the things about her he’d always loved was her independence, her absolute surety of who she was. But seeing her name matched with his had lit something he didn’t know was there deep in his belly.

“I didn’t,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “But when I was in the hospital and Lily and I had those bracelets on,” she smiles as she thinks about the hospital bracelets they’d kept, her emotional attachment to physical things seemingly only increasing the longer she was with him, as if physical imprints of their love could be found on them, “Our names were different and I wondered why I wanted to keep the name of two people who always put everything but me first instead of sharing the same name as my family. The same name as you,” she smiles, not judging herself for once as a tear slips past her lashline, “I’ll still be Prentiss at work I think, but I’ll be Hotchner everywhere it counts.”

He stares at her, awe and love for the woman pressed up against him threatening to overwhelm him, “I love you.”

It feels like a ridiculous thing to say, but it’s all he can manage, and he only hopes that she knows it’s so much more than three simple words, that he’d never be able to get across what she means to him.

“I love you too,” she replies, stamping her lips against his before she takes the card from him and groans as she looks at it, “This means I need to get a new driver's license and I’ll end up with this haircut on it.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her impossibly closer, taking the opportunity to kiss her exposed collarbone, unimpeded by hair hanging down past it, “So beautiful.”

She sighs and holds him close, encouraging him to continue to kiss her skin, her eyes drifting shut as she settles into the feeling of it. She rolls her hips against his and groans as he stops, pulling back from her, his eyes full of desire and concern in equal measure. She’d be offended if she didn’t know he’d stopped before they’d even really started because he was putting her first, making sure she was entirely comfortable before they carried on.

“Em-”

She smiles at him and crawls off his lap, standing up and offering him a hand, “Come on,” she says, pulling him close when he stands and kissing him, “We probably have time for a joint shower before she wakes up.”

He puts his hands on her hips, a tension to his grip that she knows is stronger than the one he had on his self control, “Are you sure?”

She nods and leans in to kiss him, swiping her tongue through his mouth before she pulls back suddenly, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He doesn’t need any more convincing, his arms banding around her from behind as he guides them up the stairs, both of them muffling their laughter and groans as they barely disconnect from each other all the way to their bedroom. They successfully sneak past Lily’s bassinet and into the ensuite.

The moment the door is closed Aaron is on her, his hands under her shirt and his lips against hers, and Emily loses herself in the feel of him.

-x-

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