#svu fanficiton

[therandomfics]

Circles: 3

Things with Peter had seemed to accelerate once you’d both admitted that you had true feelings for one another. It seemed cliche and made you incredibly uncomfortable when you thought about how much of a stereotype you were becoming. Damaged girl meets class act boy, falls in love, hides feelings due to traumatic past, but in the end it’s all sunshine and rainbows. 

Unless it wasn’t. 

Your relationship with the handsome former MLB player was going so well, in fact, that a few weeks after you’d shared your feelings he asked if you wanted to move in with him. It was conveniently timed as your lease was up soon, and you’d begun to feel even more connected to Peter. 

In a bold move, you’d begun packing and had informed your landlord that you’d be moving out at the end of the month. You kept the days in check on your calendar and found yourself growing giddy at the thought of moving in with him. 

“But what if I snore really loud?” you’d asked one evening, your head in his lap as he brushed your hair back from your face. 

“You do.” His answer was factual but he laughed despite the preciseness of his response. 

You gasped and swatted at his hands to prevent him from touching you. “That’s a lie. You’re the one who snores, honestly. It’s so bad. It’s like I live in the woods of the Pacific Northwest and you’re a lumberjack who works overtime to meet his tree quota.” 

He rolled his eyes dismissively and stood up, sliding you off of the couch and onto the floor in one swift movement. “You’ve thought long and hard about how you were going to describe that, didn’t you?” 

From the floor, you poked your bottom lip out and grumbled loudly. “I can’t believe you just left me down here.” 

Peter was silent until he came back into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, sitting on the floor next to you with a thud. “I came back.” 

“How sweet of you,” you replied dryly, but accepted the glass he handed you and took a sip of the bitter red wine he poured for you. 

“Kind of hard to believe in just two weeks you’re going to be living here. We’ve already got movers ready, and your apartment is back up for rent. I even cleared out half of the closet for you,” he explained and carefully pulled you towards him with his arm around your shoulders. “Honestly I’m kind of nervous.” 

“Nervous why?” you asked and peered up at him curiously. 

He shrugged and drank a little more from his glass before answering. “It’s a big step. A good step, but a big step. I think it’s normal to feel nervous. Aren’t you?” 

“No, not at all.” Your answer was too quick - and something in Peter’s eyes made you think that he was onto your games. But, if he knew, he didn’t say a word. How terrible would he feel if you told him that you’d become nearly sick thinking about moving in with him and how it was going to uproot your routine and your life. It was a selfish thought. If Peter cared enough for you to change his lifestyle for you, why weren’t you being just as open minded? 

Peter seemed like he was under more stress than usual when you saw him that evening. He was short but polite, almost as if he had something eating away at him that he wouldn’t say. The only thing that really struck you as odd was that he insisted that you stay in, and that he would prefer it be at your place even though nearly everything you owned was packed up and waiting to be shipped off to his apartment. 

“You seem like something’s really bothering you, and I know it’s probably work. I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to make your life easier, I’ll do it,” you reminded him as you wrapped up your paper plate takeout meal. 

He smiled meekly and placed his hand on yours. “I appreciate that, Y/N. I really appreciate how good you are to me and how much I can trust you and depend on you even when I feel like I’m a burden.” 

Your smile melted into a frown almost immediately. It was like he’d read your diary - or he had bugged your mind and was able to hear your every thought. “You’re never a burden. In fact, I truly enjoy helping you. It makes me happy to know I’m making you happy.” 

“Why are you frowning?” he asked, but you waved him off and stood up to clean up the night’s mess. 

“I just don’t like to see you sad.” 

“Can’t be happy all the time. That’s not reasonable.” 

You shrugged and leaned against the counter in your empty kitchen, folding your arms across your chest. “I know. But I’d like to think if I tried hard enough I could make you happy, infinitely.” 

“You already do, I promise...” he trailed off with a sigh and stood up, closing the space between your bodies so he could wrap you in his arms. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t mean to leave so suddenly but I’ve got a huge case I’m working on and it’s gonna take up some of my time - more than usual anyway. Please, please lock the door once I’m gone and don’t answer it if you don’t 100% know who it is. Alright?” 

“Okay, I’ll be extra cautious. Is there something I should be worried about?” You buried your face against his neck and pressed gentle kisses against his skin, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. 

“I..” he began, but stopped. “No, it’s just this case that’s got my mind working in overdrive and I just want you to be extra cautious. You’re one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want anything happening to you.” 

Communication with Peter had been somewhat spotty in the days leading up to your move. In fact, you’d only gotten one text back despite the few you’d sent him, and it was a very simple “okay” - very unlike him. You chalked it up to jitters, maybe he was worried about you moving in or maybe that case really was trying his patience. 

The day before you were scheduled to move in with Peter, you sat in your office at work and read the closed captioning on the television. There had been some sort of trafficking case that had gone terribly wrong and it looked like it ended in casualties. Several names were scrolling across the bottom of the screen as you continued reading, until one name in particular scrolled across the screen and appeared with a picture. 

Pamela Stone. 

You stood up from your desk and grabbed your cellphone, stepping outside into the hallway for privacy. 

“You’ve reached the voicemail of ADA Peter Stone. Please leave a message.” 

You hung up and immediately called his office. 

“ADA Peter Stone’s office. How may I help you?” Carmen greeted politely. 

“Carmen, it’s Y/N. Is Peter in his office?” Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like you were going to pass out onto the floor. 

“Y/N, I’m not sure if you heard...” she murmured into the phone. 

“I just.. yes, I heard. Please tell me he’s there? I can’t get up with him and I’m worried...” 

She sighed into the receiver. “I’m so sorry, but I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I haven’t been able to reach him, either.” 

“Okay.. thank you, Carmen. Have a good day. I’ll speak with you again soon.” 

Carmen reciprocated and you hung up the phone. 

You walked back into the office and marched immediately to your office manager’s desk. “I need to leave.” 

She looked up at you and gasped. “Oh honey you look like you seen a ghost!”

“Something like that. I’ll call you later,” you said and you turned on your heel to leave, listening to the popping of her gum as you grabbed your things and fled the office. 

Peter wasn’t at his apartment. In fact, it didn’t look like he’d been there in a few days. When you unlocked the door and stepped inside it felt empty - as if there hadn’t been a soul present in sometime. The dishes in the sink spoke volumes about his time spent at home. It indicated very little. You scribbled him a note that read 

Please call me. I’m so worried about you. I love you. x

And with that, you skipped over his office and went straight to SVU. Someone was bound to know where he was, and someone had to know what happened. Was this the case that he’d been talking about making him nervous? How did his sister, who was quite ill, end up in the middle of it all? Who would kill someone so innocent?

“May I help you?” the guard at the reception desk asked. 

“Hi, yes, I hope so. I’m looking for ADA Peter Stone,” you explained, taking a quick glance at your phone to see if he’d called you back. Nothing. 

“Ma’am, this isn’t the ADA’s office.” 

You gritted your teeth and smiled with a clenched jaw. “Yes, I know. But he wasn’t in his office nor at his home, and I know he’s the ADA for SVU. Can I speak with Lieutenant Benson?” 

He stood up and held his hand up to you to stay where you were. “Hang on, let me see if I can get someone to help you.” 

A few minutes later the Lieutenant came walking towards you and guided you back to her office. She said nothing as you walked past the desks of the working detectives who all looked like they were exhausted and defeated. 

“First of all, I just want to say it’s really nice to meet you finally, Y/N,” she said as she shut the door behind you and took a seat at her desk. 

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry that I just showed up. I didn’t know where else to go, honestly,” you explained and wrung your hands in your lap absently. 

“I’m really sorry but Peter hasn’t been here, either.” 

You nodded to state that you understood and stayed silent. 

“When did you hear from him last?” 

“Yesterday morning. And then I saw on the news today when I was at work... about his sister...” you trailed off and began tapping your foot on the floor nervously. 

“After everything that happened last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if he needed some time.” 

“Oh, yes. I know. I just want to make sure that he’s okay.” 

On her desk, the Lieutenant’s phone rang. You glanced down just in time to see Peter’s name appear on the screen. 

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” she said and shot up, heading into an interrogation room to take the call. 

You sighed in defeat. Peter was ignoring you. Fair enough, but it was a little too much for you to swallow at the time. While Benson was on her call with Peter, you silently left her office and the precinct. 

Once out on the street, you made one more phone call. 

“Doctor Harper? It’s Y/N. I know it’s not on schedule but I really need to see you, please.” 

[elejahfanfic]

Start Over/1

Fanfiction

Part 1

Pairing: Elena Gilbert x Nick Amaro

#nicklena

Tvd/svu crossover fanfiction

a/n: this is my new au ship - and here is a little story. I am borrowing Nick Amaro from Law&Order SUV

This is totally AU.

Premise: Nick Amaro left New York to go live in Mystic Falls, to be close to his daughter Zara.

He meets Dr Elena Gilbert Salvatore, who now is a widow, as Damon Salvatore died in a car accident.

Nick will soon find out that Mystic Falls is not such a normal town.

It’s a little love story. I hope you like it.

Thanks for reading. xoxo

✺◟(❛‿❛)◞✺  

tags: @miguelsbrat​

✲ﾟ｡.(✿╹◡╹)ﾉ☆.｡₀:*ﾟ✲ﾟ*:₀｡

At the Salvatore School, a surprise birthday party saw old friends reunite.

"This is the best birthday present," Elena said hugging Bonnie, "when did you get here?"

"Last night. Caroline literally smuggled me in." Bonnie recalled the events of her arrival.

"That is why you cancelled on me last night?!" Elena turned to Caroline.

"We can have a much better movie night now that Bonnie is back." Caroline raised an eyebrow chuckling a bit,"now the cake. You can have your other presents later."

As they all had a cake and Elena unpacked her presents, the party dispersed, leaving Elena with Bonnie in the garden.

"Thanks so much for coming. I hope you are going to stay a while." Elena said taking a bit of the cake.

"I am. Sidney is coming down from New York this weekend. He wants to meet you guys."

"Omg - this like really serious?!"

"It is." Bonnie said, "he asked me to marry him. I got bigger news. I am pregnant."

Flashback

London A week earlier

  "Ahhh, that's great. I am so happy for you."

"Caroline heard the baby beat, the vampire her. So I told her last night."

"Hey, it's fine. We are not in competition."

"I want you guys to be my maids of honour and the baby's Godmothers." Bonnie said.

"Oh, Bon - thank you. Ah, this so made my day. I am so happy for you."

"I am really happy. I thought I would never fall in love again," Bonnie smiled, adding, "I wish you and Caroline get to be happy again, too."

"I got the practise, and Caroline's got the School." Elena sighed a little.

"I bet days like these make you miss Damon."

"I miss him. But I am good. I've been on a date." Elena said.

"Really? Omg- who with?" Bonnie got curious.

"A friend of Alaric's. A history professor from Whitmore. Joe. But it was a total didaster."

"Oh - you're not ready or? He was just not - crazy enough?!"

"I am so ready, but - there was no spark - nothing. He is ok, but - yeah"

"Spark - so important!" Bonnie emphasized,and now turned to the subject of a certain detective that Caroline had mentioned Elena was swooning about, but was not going to admit it.

"It's like totally weird. And then it kinda isn't." Elena said, her thoughts swaying to Nick.

"What's up?" Bonnie asked, seeing Elena go suddenly quiet.

"Nothing. Feel a bit tired. I had an emergency call at 6 a.m this morning and I've been working all day." Elena fibbed a little, though she did feel a tad bit exhausted.

"Tomorrow, movie night- I am so up for it. The three of us together again." Bonnie said.

"Oh, yeah. My house. We are so going all ‘High School’ retro time." Elena said standing up.

"I'll get the popcorn. God, I am so happy to be back." Bonnie stood up herself.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Elena hugged her friend warmly, before she went to find Caroline and thanked her for throwing her the party.

🌺🎈🎂

Sometimes later

"Yes, mom. I've got everything sorted." Nick said to his mother as he pulled in his drive way. 

"Right. I am getting things wrapped up here. I should be in Mystic Falls in a few days."

"All right. We can’t wait to see you." Nick said and as they exchanged byes, he got out of the car. 

Life changed dramatically for him. Never, in his wildest dreams did he think he would be living in a small town like Mystic Falls. It still felt like he went through the looking glass and entered another world.

Putting his phone away in his suit jacket he stood for a moment, looking at the house next door. It was a new house, belonging to Dr Gilbert Salvatore. Making a small gulp he  flashed back to the first time he had met Elena.

Flashback

Two months earlier

Salvatore School Charity Night

There, she appeared through the door of the big room. And he could not take his eyes off her.

✯

Seeing her pull in in the driveway, he got out, meeting her as she got her medical bag out, as well as a couple of bags of groceries, trying to balance them.

"Evening" Nick said, “Can I help?"

Elena, feeling suddenly flush nodded.

Taking the groceries, without a word, the detective followed the doppelganger into the house.

Nick stepped in, glancing at the decor that screamed modern rustic look.      

"The kitchen is through here." Elena gestured the direction.

"It's a beautiful house" Nick complemented the interior.

"Thank you," the brunette said putting her medical bag on the side chair,"but you are not here to - uhm- why are you here? I mean, if it is about Zara- she just had a light sprain. The wrist will be fine in a couple of weeks.”

“It’s not about Zara. Or the case. Can I say - Happy birthday."

"Oh, thank you. Right -”

"Right - yes - uhm - I’m sorry - you must think that I am a total jerk.” the detective made a mental sigh before he continued, his whole being strangely getting rigid. "I came here to apologize."

"What for?" Elena cut in.

"The way I was dismissive the other day - among other things."

"Yeah. All right. If that is it - no big." Elena shrugged it off.

"True. Still - since I will be living here - next door. I want things to be ok between us. Be a good neighbour. And Zara likes you - she told me she wanted to be a doctor."

"We're good. I told you - no big."

"Thank you." Nick nodded."I won’t not keep you any longer- good night"

"Good night" Elena said walking to the back door opening it for the detective  who stood still as he got out, turning to the brunette.

"What?"

"Yes- back there - the other day - behind the Grill - you pulled me away - you wanted to tell me something. But then Caroline Forbes came and you left. What is it that you wanted to tell me? It sounded like it was quite important”

“Well - I was - thinking to invite you to my birthday party.”

“Oh - right. And I fucked it up. Sorry”                  

Ever since her eyes locked with his, he knew his heart was already hers. Every time his saw her, coming to check on the last finishes on the house, meeting her, talking to her, he fell more for her smile, her laugh, her easy-going personality and everything else about her. He didn’t think he could fall for someone that made him feel like he was a teenager again, sheepishly staring at her, everything inside him stirred. Nick looked at Elena, losing himself in her deep chocolate eyes confirming now that she was not holding any grudges.

“You’re forgiven.” Elena said, her lips twitching cutely.

Nick curled up a little smile, nodding a little as in thank you, before turning away walking through the garden door to his house.

Elena walked inside her house, closing the back door, smiling like a cheshire cat. Putting her hands on her flushed cheeks to cool them down, she tried to calm her heart that was beating giddily.

“You’re like falling in love - and it’s great, Lena” it hummed. “It’s totally time to start over again.”

[therandomfics]

Circles

It was an unbearably cold day in January when you began seeing your therapist, Doctor Harper, for the unresolved issues you’d been carrying around for years. Your boyfriend, Peter, had suggested you speak to someone after you realized that you were staying awake and staring at the ceiling most nights, consumed by the thoughts of things that were seemingly gone and forgotten. Of course, Peter didn’t know that, he just knew that you felt like you had anxiety and that it was causing you to have concerns about your well being. 

A few sessions with Doctor Harper had you feeling like there was a lot that Peter didn’t know, maybe even a lot that you never wanted him to know. He had so many problematic cases at work, why did he need to see that when you were together, too? 

Peter was handsome, educated, and charming. He was an ADA in New York City and he was a former baseball player as well. He was impressive in every way possible, and after the men you’d courted in the past you couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone who exceeded every expectation you’d had in your ideal partner. 

That was something that Doctor Harper liked to bring up. He was tapping away at the surface of your iceberg of emotions and had settled into the corner of Peter Stone, boy wonder. 

“Have you told Peter that you’re seeing a therapist?” Doctor Harper would ask towards the beginning of each session, as always. Today was no different, even though today marked the 20th time you’d seen Doctor Harper. 

You shook your head and averted your gaze to the window. “No. I don’t know how he’ll take it, honestly. I’d like to imagine that he would be loving and understanding as he always is with me, but no one is ever that consistent. Are they?” 

He pursed his lips together in thought and then shrugged. “I don’t think any two people are the same when it’s all said and done, Y/N. You’ve experienced things in your life that have led you to believe, rightfully, that people aren’t always as honest or as good as they should be, no matter the relationship. It’s understandable that you’d be concerned that your relationship could be jeopardized if you told him about your therapy sessions and he found them unnecessary or even ridiculous.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed and let out a small sigh, turning your gaze back to your therapist. “I remember when I was suffering from mania and depression back to back to back the summer that I was 16, and I begged my Dad for help, but he told me that I was dramatic. And when I was suicidal because I was so exhausted and confused, unable to keep a handle on my emotions, he told me that if I was going to do it to do it right, because he didn’t want a vegetable for a daughter.” 

Casually making notes as you spoke, Doctor Harper nodded understandingly and made soft mhmm noises to himself. “You said that Peter works with people who had experienced very bad things, is that correct?” 

“It is.” 

“Do you think that would give him an advantage to be on your side?” he offered. 

You bit your bottom lip for a moment and then folded your hands in your lap. “You’d think so, but what if he decides that’s just another stress that he doesn’t need in his life and decides to find someone who isn’t such a pain in the ass?” 

“You are not a pain in the ass, Y/N. You’re a human being, and you’re deserving of love and affection just as much as the next person,” he stated factually and took his glasses off, placing them on the table next to his chair. “If anything, don’t you think that you awareness to your challenges makes you more lovable? I would think so.” 

“You have to say that. I’m paying you to like me,” you said with a genuine laugh. 

Doctor Harper matched your amusement with a chuckle of his own. “That’s not true. I don’t like half the people I see.” 

Later that evening you had plans to meet Peter for dinner at a restaurant near his office. You pulled your cardigan tightly around your frame as you walked into the eatery and spotted him sitting in a booth waiting for your arrival. 

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” you apologized as you approached. 

Peter smiled and rose from his seat, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm embrace. “You’re early. I was just earlier.” 

“How was your day?” The question was always asked, even if you’d spoken ten times that day. You always wanted to know how he was feeling, and he was the same for you. 

“The same as always, but not bad. I’m working with SVU to bust a ring of pedophiles but it’s proving to be a little more tricky than I would have anticipated just because of the clientele involved. How about you? What did you do after work? It was your early day today, right?” 

You nodded. It was your early day, but every Wednesday was your early day because it was your therapy day. “Yeah, it was my early day. I got some errands done once I left the office, which was good because it’ll free me up this weekend. Speaking of, if you’re not busy...” 

“Go on,” he insisted, reaching out to grasp onto your hand tenderly. If anything, Peter was good about encouraging you to speak up. It was something that he’d been doing since you met all those months ago. 

“Well...” you hesitated, but pressed on as he squeezed your hand and offered you a smile. “There’s a movie that’s coming out on Friday and I was thinking maybe we could go see it Saturday night? If you’re not too busy. I know you’ve got so much on your plate so I won’t be mad if you don’t want to go, or you can’t -” 

“Y/N,” Peter sighed and pulled his hands away from yours. “I want to, and I can, so we will.” 

“Oh, okay. Great!” you forced a smile and bit back the nauseating feeling of being irritating. “Let’s order, okay? I’m starving.” 

That night once Peter dropped you at your apartment and you’d said your goodbyes, you found yourself once again lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Doctor Harper had suggested taking some melatonin but it wasn’t doing you any favors tonight. You’d even gone so far as to leave your windows cracked, but only at the advice of Peter who told you to never unlock the window near the fire escape unless there was an actual fire. So, as Peter had said, unless Spiderman comes climbing into your room, I think you’re safe opening the windows on the other side of the room. Plus, a cooler room was meant to encourage better sleep, just not for you. 

After about an hour you rolled over and grabbed your phone, sending Peter a quick message. 

Y/N: I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate how good you are to me. 

Peter: You deserve to be treated like a princess, and I’m glad that you feel that I give you that. 

Y/N: I’m lucky that I found you. Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to let you know. 

Peter: I promise you that I’m the lucky one. You didn’t wake me angel, don’t worry. I was just wrapping up a few emails. You’re not sleepy are you?

Y/N: No... unfortunately not. :( 

Peter: Want some company...? 

Y/N: Pls, yes. 

Peter: I’ll see you in 20. 

[therandomfics]

Circles: 2

“Tell me a little more about your relationship with your mother.” 

You groaned internally and nodded, thinking back to early memories with your mom. Doctor Harper was going for the kill shot early in your session, but the sooner you started talking, the quicker the session would go. 

“When I was little we were really close. We had matching nightgowns. I always wanted to play in her make up, and she always included me in the things that she was doing, whether it was cooking or cleaning or sewing. She made it really clear that I was very important to her.” Shrugging, you looked up at your therapist for a response. 

“Go on,” Doctor Harper said gently. 

“After my parents got divorced, obviously you know they didn’t live in the same house anymore, and with my Dad’s schedule at the time I had no choice but to live with my Mom. We actually moved pretty far away from my Dad, which was hard and I know that I resented her for it. Anyway, living so far away from him sucked and I missed him a lot, but she wouldn’t let me speak to him. She started seeing this new guy and we didn’t do anything together anymore. We never talked. I was becoming a woman so to speak, and I couldn’t even ask her questions about my changing body without her getting irritated. I tried too hard to build our relationship up to where it was before and when she didn’t help me bridge it, I was angry. She was never home anymore, either, so I felt really kicked to the curb.” 

“And how was your relationship when you were a teenager, and when you were a young adult?” he asked. He took a sip of water from his bottle and set it back down, keeping a steady gaze on you. 

“As a teenager she blamed me for her financial issues because she had to pay child support. I ended up living with her for a while when I was a teenager but she wasn’t even remotely the same woman I knew growing up. She made me wear make up everyday, no matter where I was going, and she made me go on a diet and changed my style of clothing. She made me feel so bad about myself that the entire 7 months I lived with her, I was throwing up after I ate anything. It... it was bad,” you said with a heavy exhale. You’d never told anyone about the abuse you struggled to understand when you were living with your mother, and it honestly felt good to get it off your chest. 

“I can see how that would make your relationship incredibly difficult.” 

“And as a young adult she was spiraling downward. She would call me and scream at me, curse me out just because she could. She would pit me against anyone she possibly could, and she would lie about me to anyone who would listen. It was..” you paused, and narrowed your eyes involuntarily. “It was fucking terrible.” 

“Tell me what exactly makes it terrible, Y/N.” He was encouraging you and keeping his eyes intently on you. His notepad was on the table, untouched, as he allowed you to express yourself without holding back. 

“I can’t trust her. I never know when she’s going to snap or when she’s going to try to make someone hate me. It’s given me such a complex!” you nearly screamed, clenching your fists in anger. “What am I supposed to do now? Everyone I meet is someone else that could love me and leave me to rot just like she’s done everytime it’s convenient for her. I can’t even imagine how shitty it would be if she was still with my Dad. Imagine.. imagine the shitshow powerhouse they’d be? I’m glad they’re not together anymore but I wish they’d just get the fuck over themselves.” 

You hadn’t realized it but you’d begun to cry. Doctor Harper leaned forward and handed you a box of tissues, which you took so that you could clean up the mess of mascara that was running down your cheeks. 

“Y/N, do you think that everyone is going to turn on you?” he asked as he leaned back into the comfort of his chair. 

You merely shrugged and sniffled, dabbing at your eyes with your tissue. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think they will but if I don’t expect it I’m vulnerable and open for more hurt.” 

“Tell me something...” he trailed off and then squared his shoulders. “Do you think that Peter is going to do something like that to you? That he’s going to leave you because he’s .. what, tired of you?” 

Fighting back more tears, you rolled your eyes indifferently. “I don’t think so.” 

“Alright. Let me ask you a few more questions, Y/N.” 

“O-okay.. go ahead.” 

“Have you and Peter had intimate relations?” 

You nodded your head. 

“And what happened after?” 

“We went to sleep. The next morning he took me to get breakfast and when I went home later, he texted me to see how I was periodically,” you said with a half shrug. 

“How long have you and Peter been together?” 

You had to think about it, which was slightly embarrassing, but you counted the months in your head. “Last week was 9 months. But we haven’t said that we love one another.” 

“Do you love him?” 

To say you were growing irritated was an understatement. “I don’t know if I really even know what that is at this point.” 

The receptionist buzzed into the office, a sign that the session was over. You quickly gathered your things and headed for the door. “See you next week,” you said blandly and exited his office. 

Peter was waiting outside of your apartment when you got home that evening, and it was evident that he immediately noticed the tear stains on your cheeks you’d been hiding behind sunglasses on you way home. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked as you approached. 

“What do you mean?” you faked innocence and unlocked the door to your apartment and pulled him inside with you. 

He sighed and shut the door behind him, peeling off his suit jacket and laying it over the back of the highback stool at your bar. “You look like you’ve been crying, babe.” 

“Oh, no,” you waved him off with a laugh. “Allergies. They’ve been brutal today.” 

“Y/N...” he said softly and pulled you to him, wrapping you tightly in a hug. “If something’s wrong, if something happened, please tell me. I just want you to be happy.” 

Silently to yourself, you laughed. If only he knew. But, you reminded yourself, he didn’t, and he didn’t need the extra stress of your issues on top of his already overbearing stress. 

“I care about you so much and I don’t like the idea of you hurting or being hurt. So, just know that I’m always here for you,” he promised and kissed the top of your head before releasing you from his loving hold. 

“I appreciate that, Peter. And I appreciate you. Let’s order Chinese, okay? I’m starving and I want to lay down with you and cuddle,” you admitted, immediately blushing. 

He smiled and began unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up. “We don’t have to wait, you know. C’mere.” 

You allowed yourself to be enveloped his his embrace once more, burying your face against his chest. “I missed you all day,” you confessed with a content sigh. 

“I miss you everyday, Y/N,” he murmured and twisted the ends of your hair around his fingers tenderly. 

“Do you really?” 

“Mhmm, I promise. Hand to God,” he said with a soft laugh. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head back and met his gaze with a smile. “What?” 

“I want to tell you something,” he began, before pressing his lips against yours for a long, supple kiss. He pulled away and nuzzled his nose against yours. “But it’s important.” 

“Oh God. You’re pregnant?” you joked, but stopped when Peter feigned frustration and pulled you towards your couch. 

“No, I’m serious, Y/N.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” You sat down and turned to face him, allowing him to take your hands in his with a tight squeeze. 

“We’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve loved every single moment we’ve been together. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you’re playful, how intelligent you are and how dedicated you are to your career, and how you make me want to be a better person.” He paused for a moment and looked down at your hands in his pensively. 

Oh God, he’s breaking up with me.... you thought to yourself, slowly pulling your hands away from his. 

“Wait, I’m not done,” he insisted and pulled you closer to him again. “I want you to know something, and you don’t have to say anything about it I just.. want you to know.” 

You nodded slowly and felt like you were going to throw up, swallowing hard. 

“Y/N, I wanted to tell you how much I love you,” Peter finally said after agonizing moments that felt like ages. “And you don’t have to say anything, or do anything, and if you don’t love me that’s fine, I just can’t keep it to myself anymore.” 

“Peter,” you sighed and pulled your hands from his to cup his face. “I.. love you, too, and it terrifies me so much. I don’t know how to handle it, and I’ve.. honestly, never in my life felt like this with anyone.” 

“Please don’t be terrified,” he insisted and pecked your lips softly with a few quick kisses. “If I can do anything to make you feel less afraid, I want to do it.” 

“No, no, you’re so wonderful,” you quickly replied and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I love you.” 

He snaked his arms securely around your waist and pulled you flush against him. “Thank God. I was so worried you’d think I was some jackass lawyer and now, even though maybe I am a jackass lawyer, you love me. I could take on the Supreme Court fearlessly now.” 

Your laugh filled the room as you threw your head back in amusement. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, ADA Stone.” 

“Never, sweetheart.” He sighed in relief and laid his head against your shoulder. “God, I feel so much better now.” 

“You’ll feel even better once we eat. I can’t survive on love alone. I need food,” you said with a small whine. “Now let me go so I can call it in.” 

[therandomfics]

Unknown: 1

The vibration of your phone on the nightstand brought you back from your slumber. On the screen was simply one missed call from an unknown number. A few seconds later, you received a notification that the caller had left you a voice message.

Dragging your finger across the screen, you unlocked it and tapped on the notification.

“Uh.. hey man. This is Sonny. I saw your ad on Craigslist, that you’re looking to sell some authentic Yankees stuff and I wanted to know more about it. Give me a call back at this number. Thanks.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “Man,” you murmured and rolled your eyes. Way to assume you were a male just because of sports memoribilia.

After a few seconds of chewing this “Sonny” out in your head, you called him back. Time to surprise that bum for assuming in the first place.

“Hi. Is this Sonny?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

You rolled your eyes. “You just called about the Yanks stuff.”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

“Mhmm. Anyway do you want me to send you some pictures of the jerseys or..?”

You could hear traffic in the background and turned the volume up on your phone to hear more clearly.

“Yeah yeah if you could, that’d be great.”

“Sure. Give me a few minutes. I just woke up.”

“It’s 4PM?”

“Thanks. Wasn’t sure how to tell time.”

You hung up immediately and groaned, rolling out of bed as you thre the covers back. Time to get rid of the baggage, finally, one piece at a time.

[therandomfics]

Three Days: 2

The sound of the shower starting drew you from your slumber and dropped you back into the bitter reality of what was happening. For a moment you were disoriented - had it really happened that way? But within a few moments, you’d rolled over and checked your phone to see the myriad of missed calls and text messages with condolences and prayer promises. 

Sonny poked his head out of the bathroom and offered you a half smile. “Good morning, beautiful. Come join me?” 

You nodded meekly and padded over to him, embracing his half clothed form. Pressing your face against his bare chest, you sighed heavily and squeezed him close to you. “We have a lot to get done today. Aunt Judy doesn’t want us wasting any time.” 

He kissed the top of your head and pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. “Let’s take it one step at a time.” 

The halls of Mass Gen were quiet, surprisingly, for such a depressing ward. Your father’s room was midway down the hall, and the door was wide open as you approached. Your eyes fell upon your father as you saw his fragile existence, barely holding on to what was left of his life. 

“Oh Dad,” you said with a shaky sigh, closing the gap between you and placing your hand on his. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were sick.” 

“He didn’t, either,” your brother promised you, hovering in the doorway. 

Sonny stood a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets awkwardly. Surely he was out of place. He dealt with murder and assault all the time, but seeing his father in law on his death bed was a new type of trauma for the seasoned detective turned lawyer. 

“What’s happened to him?” you asked, barely looking up as a nurse entered the room and checked vitals, jotting notes on the tablet that was your father’s chart. 

She sighed. “Your father’s been diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer.” 

“What kind?” you inquired, brushing your finger over the back of your father’s hand.

“Lung,” she explained, gesturing to the oxygen that your father was currently depending on to survive. “He came in yesterday complaining about breathing concerns and once the doctor took a closer look, we could only confirm the worst. I’m so sorry for your trouble.” The nurse nodded with a frown and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts at your father’s bedside. 

“I wish I would have known, I could have moved back here and taken care of you, Dad. I would have done anything. Maybe there’s still a chance, though? They’re not always right, and you’re a fighter. Maybe it’s just a misdiagnosis?” you wondered aloud, tears welling in your eyes. 

As you dabbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, you felt the air in the room change. Suddenly, there was noise that filled the room, rushing of nurses and doctors screaming for you and your family to leave the room, physically pushing you out of the way. You collided with your brother and tumbled out of the way, finding yourself in the hall with Sonny finally emerging from the room. 

Several long minutes passed as you heard the calls for “clear” and “more oxygen” from the hallway. You slumped down against the wall and sat on the floor, pulling your knees close to your chest, trying to disappear from the hospital and back to a place that wasn’t full of misery. 

“Y/N,” you heard Sonny saying, realizing the silence was back and the overbearing noise of resuscitation was gone. 

You shook your head and pushed yourself up to your feet, refusing to hear whatever awful news that Sonny was about to give you. Your brother reached out to grab your arm but you shrugged him away, marching straight into your father’s hospital room. 

It was too late. 

“I know that we have a lot to do today, but I want to make sure that you eat. Your brother was telling me about a place a few blocks down that opened up recently. Let’s go there, then we can meet up with everyone else,” Sonny was saying, washing his hair with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. 

“That’s a good idea.” You washed off the remainder of the soap on your body and then kissed his jaw. “You’re the best thing in the world to ever happen to me.” 

“Mutual,” he said with a small shrug, stepping back as you pulled the curtain to get out of the shower. 

Over a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and coffee, you mapped the day out with Sonny. After breakfast, you’d head back to your father’s home, where everyone would be waiting. His last wishes were to be buried at his family plot, with a simple service that highlighted his life’s accomplishments and how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. After coordinating and contacting the funeral home, you’d have to order flowers, plan the meal situation for the service, and make sure that you met with your father’s lawyer to confirm any final details regarding his burial. 

It was a lot, you had to admit, but knowing that Sonny was there made things seem so much more simple. 

As you sat at a window table with your husband, you couldn’t help but thank God that you’d been given the best gift in the world. In between bites he caught you staring and reached out to grasp your hand in his. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here. We’re gonna get through this together.” 

When you walked back into your father’s house, you were immediately greeted by two rambunctious and excited little boys - your nephews. They embraced you and spoke over one another trying to get the most of your attention as possible, that is until they saw Sonny. They ran to him and jumped into his arms, hugging him and starting the process all over. Your sister in law came around the corner and folded her arms, crossly observing her children’s behavior. 

“Let them be happy. Someone needs to be,” you said, lips pulling into a frown. 

“Well, they’re my kids, so I think I get the final say in how they’re raised,” she retorted and yelled at her children to get down and go back to the living room. “They need to learn their place. They’ve been getting on my nerves all day and there isn’t a single thing for them to do in this house.” 

“Yeah. Kinda like my Dad didn’t have any young children living here, so he decorated how he saw fit.” You shrugged and brushed past her, heading into the living room where the rest of your family was stationed. 

“Sonny and I will handle food and flowers,” you announced and stood in the doorway to the living room. Sonny came to stand beside you and smiled at your family, the family that he’d only met once at the wedding. “I really appreciate you all coming together for this. Aunt Judy, I know that due to your health concerns you’d like this as orderly and speedy as possible. I respect that. So I’d like to finalize plans today. Dad will be prepared for burial by tomorrow, so I’d like to make sure that we respect each other’s time and do this together, efficiently.” 

“We’ll get with the funeral home,” your brother offered, glancing at his wife who merely shrugged. “Dad already had everything paid for and picked out, so we just need to confirm that they’ll be able to accommodate us.” 

“Great. You guys are more than welcome to stay here and visit with one another. We’re going to go ahead and get started on everything.” You felt Sonny place his hand on the small of your back and guide you closer to him, where you naturally fit under his shoulder. 

“Thank you guys for being here. I know it means a lot to Y/N and myself. I left my cell number on the fridge if you guys need anything while we’re out,” he concluded, and gently but confidently guided you from the living room and back towards the entrance to the house. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, cupping your chin in his hand to bring your gaze back to his eyes. 

You nodded and met his eyes. “I’ve gotta get it done.” 

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours for a long moment. “At anytime you need a break, you tell me. You don’t have to do it all.” 

“I know, thank you. Let’s get as much done as possible. I love my Dad but I’m tired of being in Boston already,” you complained and pulled away from him to leave the house. 

Flowers ordered. Check. Food to feed up to 50 people. Check. Meeting with your father’s lawyer to ensure that his final wishes were being met. Check. 

The only thing left was to get with your brother to see if he had secured a time for the services. 

On the drive back from the North Shore, you stared out the window and fought the urge to break down. Why was there never enough time to grieve? Why was it so sudden? Could you really ever honestly be prepared, even if you knew someone was going to die at a certain time? What would happen when Sonny died? What if you died first, would Sonny be okay? You wanted Sonny to die first so that he wouldn’t have to go through the suffering of losing you and living alone. Try as you might, you found yourself sniffling on the ride back home. 

“Where’d your mind take you?” Sonny asked as he turned onto the street lined with brownstones that your father had called home for so many years. 

“I don’t you to die, but I’d rather you go first so that you don’t have to live without me,” you explained and wiped the tears from your face. 

“If you go first, I’ll never get remarried,” he promised, parking the car and killing the engine. “Come inside with me. I’ll make you some tea, and we can watch Tom and Jerry. Your brother told me that you and your Dad watched it a lot together when you were little. Let’s relive some good memories, huh?” 

“Dad also used to make me grilled cheese sandwiches....” you trailed off and looked at him with a mischievous smile. 

“Alright,” he replied and opened the car door. “But only if you’re good.” 

[therandomfics]

Convalescence: 5

Sonny picked you up just before seven. He arrived still in his suit from the day's work, and you still wore your clothes from work, too - but you'd just freshened up some. You admitted to yourself long before he had arrived that you'd be nervous to ride with him, but he was a cop for God's sake, could he be that bad? Had he given you any indication that he wasn't a good person? No - you told yourself that adamantly, but quickly reminded yourself that no one from the past had, either, until it was too late. Still, in spite of your anxiety, you decided to ride with him to wherever you were going.

"How do you feel about sushi?" he asked, shifting into drive and merging back into traffic from the street.

"I love it!" you said quickly, almost too excitedly. Truth be told, you did love it but you didn't have anyone to go eat with.

He laughed at your excitement. "Well, I hate it, but this place also has a really good teriyaki chicken. If you're okay with it?"

You nodded and shifted in your seat, turning to face him as he drove. "Yeah. But I don't want you to be off put, you know?"

"By you? Never."

You cringed at how quickly you felt your face heat up. Sonny was clearly the Devil - a handsome man disguised as everything you needed.

The restaurant was amazing - candle light on the tables and soft music in the background without being too cliche. It seemed like a good date spot, but really you weren't sure. You weren't the romantic type. You didn't know what it really meant to be wined and dined. In fact the idea alone made you uncomfortable. Sonny ordered his favorite dish and you ordered an array of different pieces of sushi. When the meal was said and done, you were contentedly full and impressed with your company. Not once had he said anything inappropriate or made you feel like you wanted to run away. That, if nothing else, was more than you'd gotten in the past few years.

"Are you up for one more adventure?" he asked, arching his brow at you. You hesitated, but took a leap of faith and nodded. "I think so. Nothing dangerous right? No ride alongs?"

He laughed and placed his card back in his wallet after paying, then stood up and offered you his hand. "There's somewhere I want to take you. If you hate it, let me know."

Sonny parked the car on a side street and exited the vehicle quickly to open your door. The fact that you stayed continually mind blown with him was beginning to make your head spin. He was so patient, and smart, and kind - and attractive."So.. again, if you hate it..." he said as he helped you from the car.

"I won't," you insisted as he shut your door and locked the car.

"Eh.." he swayed slightly and held his hand out to you. "We'll see."

You obliged and walked hand in hand with him up the street and around a corner, reveling an older building with dim lighting and pleasant music drifting into the street. You wished the walk were longer as you realized that you were comfortable holding his hand, but the trip was short when you saw the destination. It was an old bar that had been turned into a hang out, more or less you figured, where people could get together and relax, drink a little, and dance.

It wasn't your idea of a great time, but you knew that Sonny was excited to share this experience with you, so you felt it wasn't in your best interest to let your anxiety get the best of you and dip out before you'd even had the chance to see what the place was like.

When the doors opened and he guided you inside you were flooded with the sounds of music and people talking. There were more people than you expected; some were dancing, some were drinking, some where in booths chatting casually with their friends. Overall it seemed like a place you'd enjoy if you'd only let yourself relax.

You sat together in a booth that was closed off by three walls, leaving the entrance to the booth open. It was intimate even in spite of the business that was going on around you. You sat close together after ordering drinks and admired the dancing couples on the floor, shoulders nearly touching in spite of the ample space in your sitting area.

"I can't tell you how long it's been since I've been here," Sonny admitted and took a sip of his drink when it arrived.

You laughed and nodded knowingly. "I can't tell you how long it's been since I've even been out."

He turned his attention to you and the colorful drink in your hands. "Why, Y/N?" You shrugged a shoulder and glanced down at your drink, busying yourself by admiring the pink paper umbrella on the rim. "I.. mean. I don't like people."

"You don't like people?"

"Most people are garbage. Most people... they're not good."

He nodded knowingly.

"I don't mean to sound so negative," you added quickly, feeling as if you were being rude suddenly. Social anxiety at it's finest, to be sure.

He shook his head quickly and tentatively placed his hand atop yours. "Trust me, I get it. I see it every day."

"I guess so, being a detective. What kind of detective are you, anyway? I don't think I've asked."

The smile he had faltered slightly, as if he were hesitating to tell you something - as if it were something you'd not want to hear.

"You can tell me," you insisted.

He patted your hand and picked his drink up, taking a long pull before setting it down and nodding firmly to himself. "Special Victims Unit."

"Special?"

"Meaning... child abuse, domestic violence, sexual assault..." he trailed off, gauging your response.

Your face fell when you suddenly realized that Sonny could have been someone who knew you from your past if you'd have reported anything. It wasn't rational because you'd been so far away, but just knowing that he dealt with those things all of the time was more than enough for you. You suddenly felt guilty for taking up his time, as if you were a victim he was protecting. And at any rate, didn't he already have enough on his plate? Surely taking on a relationship with someone who was a victim would be more than he needed.

"I'm sorry, I don't bring my work home with me if it's a consolation," he added. It was meant to make things better, but instead it made you feel worse. It was a subtle reminder that you were broken - damaged merchandise - you needed a safety recall on yourself.

“I get it,” you murmured and pushed your drink away, letting the vibrant slush of alcohol and sugar splash around. “I don’t mean to cut this short, but I’m really not feeling well.” It wasn’t a lie, at least. Your stomach was sick, your head suddenly hurt, and you just wanted to be home and alone in your room where it was safe and no one could see you to judge you.

Sonny’s face fell, realizing that it was something that he’d said that was causing you grief. “Sure, I understand. Are you gonna be okay? Can I do anything?”

You shook your head and offered a weak smile. “I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s get you home then. Let me pay the tab. Give me two minutes.”

When he got up from the table you felt your eyes stinging, on the verge of tears. You fought it back as long as you could but as he approached your table again, you wiggled your way to the end of the bench and stood up, heading for the door. Everything was suddenly very wrong.

“Y/N?” he called out, following behind you closely.

You waved him off as you burst through the doors and onto the sidewalk, taking a deep breath of the night air. “I’m fine,” you choked, turning on your heel and heading in the opposite direction of his car.

“Wait,” he insisted, reaching out and touching your shoulder.

“I just want to go home,” you whispered, slowing to a stop. You were full on sobbing by that point, trying to keep yourself together.

He sighed, stepping around so that he could see your face. “You’re not okay.”

You shook your head, agreeing with his statement.

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

You shook your head again.

“... Can I.. just...” he sighed again, before opening his arms to you and pulling you into an embrace. “I’m sorry, for whatever’s hurting you, Y/N. I’m sorry for your trouble.”

You sniffed gently and returned the affection by locking your arms around his middle. “It’s not you, Sonny. It’s me. I.. just... I can’t explain right now.”

He shushed you and kissed the top of your head in the most protective way you’d ever felt. “Let me drive you home.”

“Okay,” you whispered, letting him lead you back to the car.

On the ride home, he kept his hand protectively on your knee. It was such a sweet sentiment that when you pulled up to your apartment building in what felt like two minutes you didn’t want to get out of the car.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“Wait...” you murmured, biting your bottom lip apprehensively. “Can we just sit here for a few minutes?”

Sonny smiled and nodded his head. “Anything you want, love.”

[therandomfics]

Convalescence: 6

Post baby. Post hospital. Post feeling like you were being eaten alive by someone - or something - that would never know you or love you. Post panic attacks from thinking of how hard her life was going to be. You were finally back to the way you were before conception. BC, as you joked yourself in a sad way. It was true, though, because you were finally laughing again, spending time with your friends again, everything was back to the way that it should have been the entire time. Your body was healing with a quickness, and the baby weight you'd gained during gestation had fallen off, and then some. In retrospect, you should have seen it coming, but riding the way of freedom and happiness wasn't something you were willing to give up so easily. 

Because of that, you should have seen the crash coming. It was right in front of your eyes.. all you had to do was look. 

Three vodka-red bulls and a few hours of dancing had loosened you up. You were thirsty, exhausted, and you were soaked in sweat from the incessant celebratory dancing you'd been doing. It was the first time you'd gotten your old friends back together again and you were all celebrating. They had no idea you'd been pregnant - they merely though you'd slipped into some sick, wallowing bout of depression and had finally come out. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It would, though, hurt you. 

With the party winding down, you sat on a bar stool sipping your concoction of energy drink and liquor, surveying the crowd. The night was too young, even though it was 3AM, and you didn't want it to stop. 

You hopped down and padded down stairs to the smoker's pit. Music played and the cloud of smoke kept your vision blurry as you made your way to the open end of the pit for fresh air. It was October, but in spite of the cold you'd refused to wear your jacket and relied only on the warmth of the alcohol in your blood to keep you warm. 

"Hey." A voice from behind you caught your attention over the sound of EDM and couples laughing as they danced. 

You turned around and looked at the man standing in front of you, sizing him up in your drunken state. "Hi." 

"Got a cigarette?" 

You shook your head. "Don't smoke anymore, sorry." 

"That's alright. Let me buy you a drink." 

You shrugged and planted yourself at the table on the small deck, placing your empty glass out for display. "I guess, sure. That'd be alright." 

He held up one finger and insisted he would be right back as soon as possible. He didn't lie, but unfortunately when he came back he had several friends with him - and several shots of tequila, too. 

"Wow, company huh?" you muttered, taking the shot of Patron into your hand. It was so stupid. Looking back you could see it clearly but in that moment, you were drunk and nothing could hurt you. 

"We're all in town on business, thought we'd check out the locals.... you didn't disappoint," one of them said with a grin. 

You stayed quiet as you took your shot - the one that pushed you over the edge into oblivion. 

"What do you say we take this party somewhere else?" Another asked. You shook your head and stood up. "No, I'm okay, but thanks for the shot." One of them grabbed your arm and pulled you directly to his lap, forcing you to sit down. He reached into your shirt without hesitation and another began grabbing at your jeans. No one around seemed to notice, and if they did it must not have seemed out of the ordinary. 

Suddenly it occurred to you that none of your friends were there, you were alone with men with bad intentions, and you had to get yourself out of there. You screamed at the top of your lungs, throwing fists and kicks anyway you could until one of the security guards rushed over and pried you away from the group of ne'er do wells. You finally found your friends and instructed them it was time to leave. The entire cab ride home, you cried. Three weeks had passed since Sonny had taken you out and you'd had a meltdown in the middle of the night. It was embarrassing when you thought about how he must have felt - what if he was mortified? What if he thought you were an idiot? If there were any issues, at least you never knew about it. Each time you saw him in class after the failed date, he was just as kind as ever. In fact, you found that he might have actually gotten more considerate since the incident had occurred.

One night after class as he walked you to your car, he wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulders and tugged you close. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"No, really.."

You stifled a small laugh and nodded. "Of course you can."

"Who hurt you?"

You stopped walking and pulled away to see his face. His expression was searching. "What makes you think someone hurt me?"

"I dunno, I've just been doin' this for a while and I guess you could say I pick up on it. I.. I don't want you to think that it's obvious because it's not. And I care about you, Y/N, so I just wanna make sure if there's anything I can do to make your life easier, it happens," he explained with a sheepish shrug.

You let out a huff. What kind of response was he looking to get in the middle of a parking garage at 9PM? You shook your head a moment later and pulled yourself the rest of the way from his grasp and kept walking to your car. "I just don't think it's a good idea to talk about it."

He continued after you, hot on your heels but with respectful distance. "I want you to know I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here. I feel like that's not enough, me tellin' you. I feel like I need to prove to you that I'm not leavin' you." Your shoulders fell as you jingled your keys in your hand, turning around to face him. "I don't want you to leave, but I don't want you to get too close. The idea scares me."

He pointed at himself, his fingertip pressed to the front of his suit. "I scare you?" You shook your head slowly and sighed, exhaling for as long as you possibly could. "You don't. Things do. You could do those things. Fuck, anyone could."

"I know we haven't known each other that long. I respect that entirely, and I respect you. I just want to be there for you. Call it empathy or whatever you want but I want you to know that I am here.. open up a little. Just a little."

"Don't you get enough of this at work?" you snapped, folding your arms.

"Is that what you're worried about? That I get this at work, so I wouldn't have time or desire to help you?"

You shrugged, feigning indifference. "Maybe."

He reached out and finally grasped onto one of your hands, pulling you a few inches closer to him. "We make time for what we want to make time for, Y/N, and I am here right now telling you as clearly as I can that I want you to take up my time."

“What kind of question is that anyway, Sonny? Huh? Walk me to my car and then ask me who hurt me? What a loaded question.” You pulled away and turned to face your car, unlocking and opening the door hastily. “I can’t believe you did that. Obviously if there were something the matter with me, well there is but, why would you think this is a good time to ask?”

Before Sonny could answer, you got in your car and slammed the door, locking him out. You left him standing by his car, bewildered, as you drove away.

How was it possible to have the same experience over and over again? It felt like Groundhog's Day without Bill Murray. 

When you finally got home the next morning, the world came crashing down around you. You were never going to get over the past year, you were never going to be good enough or worthy enough for the love that you wanted, you were never going to be the same again, never happy, never throwing caution to the wind, you were now officially going to be stuck in this warp of fear for the rest of your life. 

Several phone conversations later you had no resolution. You were feeling worse for the wear. If people weren't going to stop to help you when you needed them more than ever, why did you stick around? Men didn't respect you, your family was more concerned about where your child was after the adoption. No one was calling to check on you or your well being. You weren’t a mother now, so no one considered you’d have post-partum depression. In fact, you hadn’t even considered it yourself.

It all should have been obvious. Hindsight is 20-20, so they say. No one, though, could have saw what happened next.

[therandomfics]

Anniversary: 14

By the time Sonny had arrived at your apartment, you were waiting for him on the side walk with a duffel bag and you had already changed out of your dress and put on much more comfortable, warmer clothes. He stopped the car and hopped out, taking your bag from your hands and opening your car door. The silence was pleasant, not tense, and you felt comfortable as you waited for him to put your bag in the trunk and get back in the car. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your knee. He rubbed the fabric of your pants for a few moments, perhaps absently as it was soft and warm. 

“I’m fine,” you replied quietly. “I just want to leave before Peter gets back.” 

“Say no more,” he replied and put the car into drive, merging back onto the street and leaving your apartment behind. 

His apartment was dark and warm when you arrived, stepping into the pitch black abyss. When the lights finally came on, you removed your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. 

“I can’t really thank you enough for coming to -” you began, but Sonny cut you off by catching you off guard with a kiss. It was sweet and tasted less like alcohol this time, but it was just as pleasant. He tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled you flush against his chest, letting his hands move from your hair to your shoulders, and then down your back with curiosity. 

When he finally pulled away he tried to hide his smile. “Sorry. I just.. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time and I didn’t get enough earlier.” 

You blushed and looked down, letting your hair fall over your eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I.. like it,” you admitted. What you didn’t want to admit was how long it had been since you’d had physical attention and how badly you wanted him to take you into his room and throw you on the bed - but... you were still married, and this was bad enough. 

It was as if he could read the distress on your face as he placed his hand on your cheek. “Talk to me. What are you feeling right now?” 

You shrugged and pulled away, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” Tired of being alone and being neglected. 

“I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do, Y/N, so if I’m doing too much you have to let me know, okay? I’m crazy about you so it’s really hard for me to stop looking at you and wanted to hold you, but the last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable or to mistreat you,” he explained and stepped back, finding a spot on his couch to sit. 

“You’re perfect, Sonny. Please don’t think that I’m not craving your touch in every single way. It’s just.. I’m still married, you know? And just because he does it, doesn’t mean I should, too. I can’t even tell you how long it’s been since he’s done anything besides kiss me, which I guess is good because I don’t feel like getting another panel done at the doctor just to make sure he isn’t going to kill me with some kind of super disease,” you rambled, sitting in a chair that was adjacent to the couch. “I don’t want to disappoint you, either. I don’t really know what I’m doing anymore.” 

“No pressure, doll. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch, and I won’t kiss you unless you want me to,” he promised, placing his hand over his heart. “Honest to God. I only want what you want.” 

You smiled slightly and sighed. “I really don’t deserve you,” you confessed and glanced over at him. 

“You deserve everything beautiful in the world, because that’s exactly what you are, Y/N.” 

“Hey, what’s this?” you asked as you remembered the envelope you’d put in your hoodie pocket. You held it up and handed it to him, showing him that you hadn’t opened it - yet. He refused to take it, though. 

“Tell you what, why don’t you read it? I’m gonna go make the bed and find a movie for us to watch.” He smiled at you before he stood up and disappeared down the hallway, flipping on his bedroom light and busying himself with tidying up. 

You ran your fingers over the envelope before tearing it open and pulling it out to read. 

Y/N, 

I want you to know a few things, even if you really never want to see me again or if you hate me.. I just want you to know how I feel. 

I’m glad that we met. I’m sorry for your troubles and the circumstances under which we met, but I’m not sorry that I found you. Your husband is an asshole. We both know that he is, but if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have seen you standing there and I wouldn’t have had the chance to speak to you, and get to know you, and find myself falling for you the way that I am.

You’re beautiful in every way possible, even if you don’t agree. I’m sorry that he’s made you feel so badly about yourself, but I want you to know that when I look at you, I see what’s good in the world, and when I think about you, my heart races and I feel like I might pass out. The world feels different now that you’re in it and I wish we’d met sooner but I cherish the time that we’ve spent together already.

Life can be a mess but I want a mess with you. 

I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes, because you are the one I am meant to be with. 

I don’t think you’re my best friend anymore. I know it. 

All my love, 

Sonny

You folded the letter with tears in your eyes and stood up, walking down the hall towards his room. 

“Sonny,” you said with a sniffle, falling into his arms. He embraced you and said nothing, giving you the chance to free your mind of its thoughts. “You’re my best friend, too, and I’m so sorry that I keep pushing you away I just wanna protect you from the ugliness that I know he’s capable of.” 

He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. “I adore everything about you, doll. Nothing could keep me away from you, you know that right? All that matters is that you’re happy and that you’re safe.” 

“I am happy, and I am safe, and I feel like I’m at home when you’re with me,” you murmured against his chest. Your arms tightened around him, threatening to swallow him whole if you could just get a little closer. It didn’t feel like it was enough to just be near him, you wanted to be apart of him. Admittedly, you realized you had never felt that way with Peter, but that could have been because before Peter, no one had hurt you and caused you to seek refuge. 

“Stay with me tonight, and for as long as you want,” he insisted, resting his chin atop your head. “You’re welcome here anytime and all of the time.” 

“Thank you.” You were appreciative of his help, but still hesitant to go against your vows despite the many times Peter had done the very thing you were trying to avoid. If you stayed, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you’d find yourself sharing more than just feelings with Sonny. To reject his offer would be rude, you figured, so instead you sought to enjoy the heat of his embrace and the unyielding feeling of comfort that he exuded. After a few long minutes of standing there, swaying in his arms, you pulled away and stepped back. “What movie did you pick?” 

He pointed at the TV mounted to the wall with the title screen to Home Alone on the screen. “Too cliche?” he asked and pulled the blankets back on the bed. He slipped out of his shoes and began to undress, losing his dress shirt and tie, loosening his belt and kicking his shoes off. You were enraptured. 

“Nope,” you replied and finally broke your gaze. You climbed into the bed and pulled the blankets up around your chin, trying to avoid looking in his direction. “This is a classic.” 

“Are you scared to look at me?” he asked, hopping from side to side until he had found his balance and slipped on a pair of pajama pants. His shirt was missing and you were fighting the desire to give yourself away to him entirely. 

“No,” you lied, staring at the TV despite the lack of animation on the screen. “I just really want to watch this movie. I love Christmas.” 

He climbed into the bed next to you and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “You’re a really horrible liar,” he commented and pressed play. 

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing, Sonny. Not everyone should have a poker face that would make Lady Gaga write a part two,” you retorted, but relaxed against his chest. He was perfect in your eyes, and though you knew that everyone had flaws you couldn’t imagine Sonny having nearly as much or as many awful issues as Peter. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes with a soft sigh of relief. 

The next time you opened them, the clock read 2:48AM, and your phone was vibrating excessively from down the hall. 

Tag List: @halloup @sasbb23 @glimmerglittergirl @inlovewith3 @juliie-isabel@enthusiastic-french-toast @braincandyreads @babypink224221 @cecilyjmorgenstern

[therandomfics]

Anniversary: 4

The apartment was dark when you opened the door, a sign that Peter was either home, or had recently been home. Although your husband was flawed and you worked tirelessly to help him with his addictions, it was comical and often infuriating that he would become so irate over you leaving the lights on when you left. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Peter said from the dimly lit confines of his office. The glow from his computer screen was the only thing illuminating the room, giving you a view of his disgruntled expression. 

You chose to ignore him and removed your coat, taking Sonny’s card and slipping it into the pocket of your pants. There were so many questions you had and yet there was never a good time to ask. There was never a good time for anything anymore, and it was a steady descent into madness that was making you wonder if it was worth all the trouble just to say you didn’t get divorced after a year. 

“Are you ignoring me?” he called out, though his voice was closer now. From the corner of your eye you could see his figure moving through the living room and towards you. 

“No.” 

“Liar.” 

You scoffed. “It takes one to know one.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said with a soft sigh. He was close enough now to touch you, but he refrained from doing so - which was smart on his behalf. 

You brushed past him and headed for the bedroom - a room you once filled with love and passion that now sat barren and left a sour taste in your mouth. The center of your world was Peter, or at least it was until you realized a few months back that he hadn’t been doing as well as you thought. A memory flashed before you when you turned on the light to your room, exposing the sadness that haunted your marital bed. You remembered the night you came home early from work - several of your girls had caught the flu and you had dismissed everyone early - to find Peter in bed with not one, but two women who looked like they spent their nights on the avenue. 

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Peter gasped, scrambling to cover himself and stand from the bed. 

You stood, dumbfounded, so confused that you’d managed to drop your cup of coffee on the floor with a shatter. 

“Y/N, listen..” he began, but you couldn’t bare to listen to him. It was too much to see him there, entirely exposed with two women that were only after one thing - the same thing, apparently, Peter craved, too. 

“What the fuck?” you finally squeaked, bumping into the door frame as you stepped backwards. You shook your head and turned around, shutting the door behind you and leaving the apartment. 

You didn’t return for nearly two weeks that time, despite Peter’s calls, texts, flowers, the whole nine yards of guilt. He had tried to win you back and won, and he had promised to work on his problems to keep you in his life. 

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N. I love you. You’re the only person who sees what little good I have in me and you constantly fight to maintain it,” he had told you over the phone. You cried and worked through the internal conflict, but ultimately your pride brought you back. Who wanted to end a marriage after four months?

The coffee stain on the floor was a reminder everytime you walked into your room, and while it was an easy stain to remove, you refused to relinquish the reminder of what he was capable of doing. 

“Y/N?” He was standing in the doorway, watching you undress and change into an oversized Cubs shirt. “Can I tell you what really happened tonight?” 

You nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, plugging your phone in and staring at the screen as it lit up. “Sure.” Tell me your lies, you added silently. 

“I wanted tonight to be perfect,” Peter began, and slowly walked his way into the room. He seated himself beside you on the bed, forcing you to deny your desire to get up and leave him there alone. “But I’m not a perfect person and I know you know that even better than I do. We had reservations and when I realized that we were celebrating one year of being married, I realized how absurd I’ve been and the way I’ve treated you.. and yet, you stay. It was too much.” 

You rolled your eyes and moved your gaze to the floor. Anything was better than looking at him. You always gave in when he plastered on his pretend grief. “Mhmm..” 

“I went for a drink to calm my nerves. Suddenly it was 6. You called, I panicked. I saw a girl sitting alone...” he stopped and exhaled, choppy and hesitant. That was a sign of guilt. 

“And you went with her to a club on our anniversary.” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you fuck her?” 

He remained silent. 

“Get out,” you said softly as you rose from the bed, putting ample distance between yourself and your husband. “Don’t say anything else. I don’t care where you go, just leave.” 

He stayed seated on the bed, avoiding the fiery blaze of your glare. Finally, when he hadn’t moved and you couldn’t stop yourself, you screamed and threw yourself at him, sobbing and slapping at whatever part of him you could hit. “I said leave, you son of a bitch! Get out! I hate you! I wish I’d never met you and your pathetic excuse for a life!” 

Peter accepted your anger and instead pulled you tightly to his chest, stopping your frustrated hits after a few seconds of struggling. He was never one to listen to your requests, even when you were on good terms. Independent. Alpha. Type A. OCD. That was Peter Stone. 

“Stop,” he shushed you and pressed his lips to your hair. “I’m sorry. I love you. I know you hate me right now and you have every right, but I love you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

The temptation to melt into his embrace was overwhelming and you caved for a second, inhaling the smell of bourbon and cologne from his shirt. You opened your eyes a moment later and pulled back, slapping him across the face with more power than you thought possible. “Sorry comes with flowers. Peter Stone cums with anyone he can get his hands on,” you retorted and shoved yourself up and away, but still close enough to jab your finger against the collar of his shirt. A foundation shade darker than yours was smudged against the white fabric. “Why doesn’t Sonny know you’re married?” 

His eyes narrowed in confusion before he stood up, towering over you. “Why are you talking to Sonny?” he demanded, walking you backwards until you bumped into the wall. 

“This isn’t the courtroom, jackass. Don’t answer a question with a question. You’ve kept me a secret your entire life, haven’t you?” you asked, standing your ground and staring up at him with malevolent eyes. “Get out of my way. Obviously you’re incapable of understanding what I mean when I tell you to get out, so I’m leaving.” 

“No,” he said suddenly and backed up, putting his hands in the air to free himself from any potential body contact. He turned around and walked out of the bedroom, his footsteps growing fainter until you heard the door to your apartment open and slam shut. 

[therandomfics]

Anniversary: 5

How long had it been since you had been happy? It was a question you asked yourself often, especially when you woke up at 3AM because your anxiety wanted to have a chat. You couldn’t remember when you were truly happy. You couldn’t remember when you felt anything other than concern - and mostly for Peter. 

Peter Stone, the bane of your existence and in the very same breath, the one person you wanted to see happy. He was everything to you, and even at his very worst, you wanted to see him successful. His career never seemed to falter despite his personal conflicts - drinking, cheating, lying, the works - and it was something that you’d always admired. Even during his baseball career, when you’d first met, you realized how important it was for him to be successful. 

What bothered you was that it was his desire for professional fame that never seemed to be impacted, but rather his personal life that took the toll. Countless times over the past five years you’d taken a backseat and allowed him to do what he felt was right. Through all of his trials and tribulations, you were the ever present source of light. When his father passed away, you held down the fort while he handled business. You supported his decision to move to New York, uprooting your life to follow him and show your support. When his sister perished, you held his shaking, weeping frame and told no one of his admissions of guilt and fear. Even when he was accused of rape, you stood by his side... but, you had to admit, you weren’t sure if you really believed that he hadn’t done it. He had a drinking problem and a knack for seduction - after all, that’s how you’d met. The bar scene wasn’t your thing, but it was a pivotal trip to a club with friends that lead you into the arms of your now husband. 

It wasn’t until you’d fallen in love with Peter that you realized what a horrible person he was - although back then, you wouldn’t have called horrible. You were blinded by his charm, his fame, his good looks, his personality. He kissed you like he was starving for more and the passion that you shared couldn’t be rivaled. The first few months were bliss and you were oblivious to his indiscretion. It didn’t matter, he’d reasoned and told you that you weren’t truly together but he would change and he would be yours only. 

And maybe a few other women here and there. 

Cold water washed over your body, reminding you that your shower was over and you had used the hot water reserve in the heater. You shivered and turned the water off, shoving the curtain back and wrapping a towel around your body. The only thing you still enjoyed about being with Peter was that you were able to start your own business and watch it grow. Without him, that wouldn’t have been possible. 

The marble counter provided a nice surface for your phone to vibrate across, filling your ears with the whirring sound of an incoming call. Peter. 

You answered but said nothing. 

“Y/N. I can hear you.” 

“What do you want?” 

He sighed. “I want to talk to you.” 

“You’re talking.” 

“In person, I mean.” 

You rolled your eyes and exhaled gently. “That’s not a good idea, Peter. I’m sorry.” 

“I love you.” 

Your finger tapped the red button on the phone faster than you thought possible. Perhaps Peter did love you, but it surely wasn’t your version of love. 

                        ______________________________________

“I’m sorry that I called you.” You smiled half-heartedly and tapped your fingers against your coffee mug. It had been a week since you’d seen Peter and you had no intentions of trying to contact him until you were ready. He wouldn’t be able to rush you this time. 

“Don’t apologize,” Sonny replied, offering you a smile. You wanted to trust him, but that seemed impossible. Not just with him, but with anyone. How could you put faith in another person when your own husband was the very definition of bullshit. “Are you okay?” 

You shrugged and folded your arms across your chest. It was defensive and involuntary, but you kept your stance. “I don’t know, Sonny. I don’t have anyone to talk to about what’s going on. My family warned me not to marry him. I mean I guess I knew, too, but I thought that it would be the right motivation to get him where he needed to be. He’s just gotten worse.” 

Sonny nodded knowingly and frowned. “Stone and I have spent a lot of time together and I am disgusted that I didn’t know he was married. You know? I mean I helped the guy out...” he trailed off and sighed. “Sorry. You don’t need to know that.” 

“I kind of already do,” you admitted. “I was so starstruck when I met him. He was like a god. He paid attention to me. He made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world and then I caught him with another woman on a few different occasions but.. who was I to say he was wrong for it? Look at me. Peter is out of my league. He fits in here. A lot of you New York guys look like you could model full time.” 

Sonny blushed and averted his gaze to anything but you. He was flattered but it was inappropriate given the situation you were in and his affiliation to your husband. “Why do you think that? You’re beautiful. I’m not just saying that. You really are. Stone should respect your marriage and appreciate you for the person that you are. I’ve only seen you twice now and I can tell you’re kind and you’ve got a good heart. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” 

You looked up at Sonny with saucer eyes. “What?” 

“I mean, I uh. I meant someone like you, that’s what I was sayin’.” His face was blood red and you suppressed a giggle. 

“Right....” you muttered and sipped your coffee.  “Where is he?” 

“He told me he’s staying at a hotel near the courthouse.” Of course, you already knew that because of the alert you got from the bank about a suspicious charge on your account. It was more a test of Sonny’s honesty than anything else. “He’s been at work everyday and he looks like he’s okay.” 

You nodded slowly and let your shoulders slump. “Thanks for meeting with me. It means a lot that you’d take the time out of your day to talk to me about someone you consider a good friend.” 

“Considered,” Sonny corrected you. 

                         _____________________________________

“I’ve been doing - don’t interrupt me - a lot of thinking and I think we need to figure out what’s actually going to happen with us.” You were pacing back and forth in your bedroom, phone to your ear as you waited for Peter’s response. 

“What do you mean what’s going to happen?” 

“I need to see you. I’m at home. Can you come by when you get off work?” 

“I can be there in an hour.” 

“Sure.” 

Three weeks had passed since you’d asked Peter to leave. He had listened and kept his distance, respecting your boundaries and giving you time to process what had happened. In the past, you’d never given yourself a chance to assess the situation and had taken him back into your life within hours. This time it was different. This time you were married and he had broken his vows to you in only a year’s time. Things weren’t easy, and they never really had been, but enough was enough. You were no stranger to difficulty. 

Peter let himself in and shut the door, draping his coat over the arm of the couch and setting his briefcase on the floor. “Where are you at?” he called out. 

“Kitchen,” you replied and braced yourself for the worst. He walked into the room and your stomach was in knots. He was so handsome - a tailored suit and a fresh haircut - and it was hard to resist him. You wanted nothing more than to rush forward and embrace him, to let him lie to you and promise you a world he could never truly offer. “Hi.” 

“Hi. You wanted to talk?” he asked, seating himself at the bar. Thank God he put a solid barrier between the two of you. 

You nodded and leaned forward on the counter, your forearms flush against the granite. “Do you remember when we first started dating, and I was head over heels in love with you?” 

“How could I forget?” 

“And remember when I told you for the first time that I loved you?”

“Yes. Where is this going?” He arched a brow and propped his elbows on the counter. 

You waved your hand to shush him. “I never thought someone like you would want someone like me, and I was so baffled by it that I never wanted to let you go. If I let you leave, I’d never find anyone like you again and that’s a terrifying thought. Being alone, I mean, that’s.. I can’t.. but I guess I am alone already. People look at you more than they look at me. You’re beautiful. You’re so fucking perfect.” The heat was rising to your cheeks and you felt them turn from a pink to a crimson in seconds. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was dry. You felt like you were giving a speech in college again, in front of 300 people you didn’t know - but you knew they were critiquing you. 

“Y/N, I don’t understand. You’re beautiful. I love everything about you. Everything. I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.” 

You laughed and choked at the same time, breaking the dam and letting the tears flow freely. “You’re always with someone else,” you hissed and stood up, wiping your face dry. “That’s the problem. I’d rather be alone than to wait around for you to get someone else pregnant, or get HIV, or whatever. You haven’t touched me in months and I guess that’s for the best.” 

Peter stood up and slowly walked around the corner. No matter how awful he was to you, you knew that he hated to see you cry and would do anything to get you to calm down. His arms pulled you close and he held you against his chest, rubbing your back softly. “I think we need to get professional help. I do, I know I do, but I think for the sake of what I’ve done to you, we both need it.” 

You caved and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into the fabric of his shirt. He was your safe place to land, or he used to be. He hadn’t been around lately and you’d found yourself crashing to the ground below without so much as a safety net. It was a reminder you needed. You squeezed him tightly and then let go abruptly, breaking from his grasp. It was hard to be near him when you knew that your comfort zone was someone else’s happy hour. You could almost feel the warmth from another woman holding him.

“C’mere..” he whispered and reached for you again. His attempt was shot down when you slapped his hand away and locked your eyes with his. 

“I want a divorce.” 

[therandomfics]

Coffee’s For Closers: 6

Emma came home sometime shortly after Sonny left for the night. It wasn’t surprising that she came home late, it was just surprising that she came home the way that she did. She had her arms full of shopping bags from high end retailers you couldn’t pronounce, her hair was a new color and it looked like she’d spent a solid hour and a half inside of Sephora before she went out. 

“I haven’t seen you since last night, Emma.” 

She stopped at her bed and unloaded her arms. “I know, I’m sorry. I was busy,” she said dismissively and began unbagging her items. 

“You missed work, too,” you added with a frown. 

“I quit, actually. I forgot to tell you.” 

“What? How are you going to pay your half of the bills?” 

She turned to face you with a smug smirk. “I have my ways.” 

“Does it have any correlation to what happened last night?” you asked, brow arched curiously. 

“Actually yeah. I’ve been going to these clubs since I was about 21. I thought it was all fun at first but I’ve got guys who will legitimately pay my bills if I sleep with them,” she explained cheerfully. 

“Emma, I think that’s prostitution.” 

“No, I’m a sugar baby. Sometimes I don’t even need to sleep with them! They get one look at me without my panties on and I’m set for the week.” 

She was so cheerful - too cheerful for your liking. It wasn’t adding up, and though you didn’t want to shame her for her choices, you couldn’t figure out how she would be comfortable with that lifestyle choice only a week or two after being sexually assaulted. 

“What are you going to do about Kenny?” 

“He apologized. He was just angry,” she explained with a shrug. “I’m still not going to take him back. He doesn’t make enough money to support my needs and wants, plus he’s kind of vanilla for my liking. Speaking of, did you have a great time last night?” 

Your head spun with her nonchalant attitude about everything that had happened. Choosing to ignore her question, you pushed on about her assault. “What happened, Emma? You know the police are still trying to figure it out and they’re not going to leave you alone until you explain what happened. You can’t outcry and then take it back.” 

“It’s nothing,” she snapped and shut her door in your face. Obviously it was something, just not something that she was prepared to discuss at that given moment. 

“Emma,” you called out through her door with a sigh. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, honestly. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want it to happen again, that’s all. He’s dangerous, you know he is, so do something about it. Protect yourself and anyone else he might encounter.” 

You heard the music in her room start up and grow louder; her intent to drown you out was successful. 

A few days passed before you saw your roommate again. She was giving direction to a few delivery men as they dropped off and set up her new bedroom furniture. She had also purchased a relatively luxurious new MacBook, which was residing on a brand new glass top desk. Apparently she was doing well for herself. You confessed to yourself that you were jealous, especially when you looked at your own room and it’s lack of proper furnishing, but you wanted to believe it was her way of grieving. 

“Y/N,” Emma called out, standing in the living room after the men had left. “I need to talk to you.” 

“About?” you called from your room, leaning over in your desk chair to peer out at her. 

“About what happened.” She walked into your room and sat on your bed with a huff. “Let me talk. Don’t interrupt.” 

You nodded and closed your laptop to listen to her. 

“Kenny found out what I was doing at those clubs. He didn’t realize where I was going all the time, but he knew something was going on. I made - don’t get mad okay? - I made a dating profile and I used your pictures. Mainly your face. You look innocent and endearing. I used my body. Let’s face it.. my body,” she gestured up and down her torso. “Anyway, I got a message from Kenny one day. It took him about three weeks to figure out he wasn’t talking to you. He genuinely thought you had a thing for him. But he finally got smart and realized that those pictures were of my body, not yours. He was furious, and wanted to know why I was doing what I was doing.” She stopped and looked at you for any reaction, but you remained stoic. “He hacked into my email, found my bank statement and saw I had been at Le Morte, The Dungeon, Paddles, and a few other places. He followed me around until he found me at The Dungeon. My fetish usually means I wear a blindfold and I’m tied down to the bed, or whatever we’re using.” 

Your face was pale and blank as you listened to Emma so casually explain her actions and her fetishes. Remaining silent, you merely nodded in response. 

“Well, I thought I was meeting this guy named Brent. Turns out, I was meeting Kenny, and with me being tied down, I couldn’t do anything. He took advantage of the situation, slapped me around some and threatened to tell you everything. So that’s why I said he raped me,” she concluded with a shrug. “What do you think I should have done?” 

“I.. mean, Emma, if you didn’t want to have sex with him, that’s rape. Boyfriend or not. Truthfully it’s fucked up that you’d let him think I was interested in him at all when you know I find him repulsive and insensitive, but I guess that’s irrelevant because I already knew that.” 

“How did you know?” she demanded, sitting up straight. 

“The Detectives at SVU found your photos of me. Or, us really, I guess. Anyway they know you go to The Dungeon and they know now that you’ve been catfishing people. Is that how this whole thing started? You conned guys online but realized you could get more money in person?” 

“I know you’re pissed because it’s not something you’d be able to do but you don’t need to be so judgmental,” she hissed and stood up abruptly. “Whatever, I’m not pressing charges against Kenny for what he did because it was part of the game.” 

“Fine. That’s stupid, but that’s your choice. If you’d please close the door on your way out I’d appreciate it. I’ve got to finish this paper,” you replied flatly and turned back to your desk, opening your laptop and resuming your work. 

Sunday mornings were always your scheduled day off, and Sonny took advantage of that fact by meeting you for breakfast at a place that served more than coffee and pastries. Over pancakes and orange juice you explained the conversation you and Emma had, and how insane you thought she had become recently. 

“I’m not even sure where to go from here,” you admitted and pushed a piece of pancake through a river of syrup. “She got her boyfriend to think I wanted him, while she was with him, and then he found out what she was doing and got his revenge by having sex with her while she was blindfolded, thinking it was someone else.” 

Sonny, who had seen and heard of much worse, was not nearly as alarmed as you were. “You can’t try to rationalize what people do, Y/N. I know you want to but stop, you’re just gonna make yourself mad,” he insisted and reached across the table for your free hand. 

“It makes me feel relatively unsafe,” you confessed and placed your hand in his. “I should just be thankful that she’s not inviting random men over to hook up, though she’s not doing much better by meeting random men out in public.. whatever, who am I to judge?” 

“She dropped the charges,” he said after a moment. “Fin’s pretty pissed because of the time and energy he put into getting the proper evidence to prove it was rape. Then, Emma admits it was rape to you, and drops the charges with us. I don’t understand her either, but I’ll just be thankful that this situation gave me the chance to find you.” 

“Stop being so nice,” you muttered and tried to pull your hand away. 

Sonny stopped you and tugged your hand back so that he could grab it again. “Stop fighting me. You deserve to be treated like a princess.” 

Back at your apartment, you had planned on changing your sheets, doing a few loads of laundry, meal prepping some for the up coming week, and getting ahead on the mountains of research you still had to do. You stepped off the elevator as you toyed with your phone, trying to find the right music to listen to so that you’d be motivated and bumped into a man getting on. 

“Sorry,” you called out, but he couldn’t hear you with his own ear buds in. You hated the city sometimes, even though you were just as guilty when it came to being negligent. 

The door to your apartment was open when you arrived. Music was playing in Emma’s room as usual, which meant she was home. Obviously in addition to being an escort or whatever she was, she was an idiot. Leaving the door open in your building was an invitation for God only knew what. 

“Hey! You left the door open, jackass,” you called out and kicked it shut. Emma didn’t reply; probably couldn’t hear you due to the music. You marched across the kitchen and down the hall to her room, knocking loudly. Still, no answer. “Emma?” 

The playlist started over again - it was one you knew too well. First it was three of her favorite Britney Spears songs, followed by what you thought was a country-pop crossover group but it might have just been country, then her goth phase of one Evanesance song, and to wrap it up, six different songs by Beyonce. 

Slowly, you opened her door - careful not to interrupt whatever she might have been doing, and also so that you didn’t scare her. When you finally pushed it open, you saw her feet sticking out from the space between her bed and the wall. You were already calling 911 to report it by the time you realized that your roommate was bleeding from her head and her thighs. 

Sonny met you at the hospital and joined you in the waiting area for critical care. Emma had suffered blood loss, sexual assault, and blunt force trauma to the back of her head. You left the key to your apartment with Tutuola and insisted you’d get it back later; you had no desire to return to the apartment now. Emma’s mother and father showed up an hour after you called them and fell apart when the doctor explained that they were performing surgery to stop a hemorrhage to her reproductive organs. Whoever attacked Emma had left her for dead. If you hadn’t gotten home when you did, she might very well be dead. However, if you’d been home when she got attacked, you might be in the same situation that Emma was in, too. 

“I ran into someone when I was getting off the elevator to our floor, Sonny. Can you please let Lieutenant Benson know? I know they’ve got cameras. We fought to get them installed,” you said quietly, trying not to let Emma’s parents hear you. 

Sonny stepped out for a while, making his calls and giving his updates to his team. He wasn’t able to be apart of the investigation, you knew, but at least he could be there with you and Emma’s parents for support. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Paulson, I’m so sorry that this has happened,” you soothed as you approached the distraught parents of your roommate. “I just wanted you to know that if there’s anything I can do, I’m here.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. We didn’t realize she’d gotten so bad again,” Mrs. Paulson sobbed, burying her face into her husband’s shoulder. “We should have known.” 

“I’m sorry, what do you mean again?” you inquired as you sat down across from them. “She’s been good as long as I’ve known her.” 

Mr. Paulson spoke up, rubbing his wife’s back. “Emma’s got bipolar disorder and she stopped taking her medicine. We only know this because we track her bank account and she’s never once made a pharmacy purchase. She never gave us any indications that she wasn’t taking it anymore, so we just assumed she was paying cash.” 

Emma had at least six cards in her wallet at any given time - credit, debit, whatever they were. Obviously she was keeping something - or some things - from her parents, beyond her means of income. “The proper authorities have been informed and I’m positive they’ll be here soon to help shed some light on the situation. Meanwhile, let’s just pray for Emma’s speedy recovery. If you’ll excuse me,” you concluded and stood up to walk outside. Nothing made sense right now and you wanted to let Sonny know as soon as possible. 

Sonny was outside on his phone, pacing back and forth while he explained something very heatedly to the receiving of his call. When he saw you, his voice dropped and he quickly got off the phone. “You okay?” 

You nodded and motioned for him to go back inside with you. “Emma’s parents told me some important information. I know you’re not on the case but I think it’s important that they speak to someone from your squad. They said Emma has bipolar disorder and hasn’t been medicated - they also said they only know of one bank account of hers but I know there’s at least six different forms of payment in her wallet. It could be any of those... friends of hers that did this.” 

Sonny nodded and waited for you to keep walking. Usually he would have put his arms around you but perhaps the stress of the situation was causing him anxiety. “What did you do after we left breakfast?” 

“What?” 

“What did you do...” he paused and clenched his jaw. “After we left breakfast.” 

“I went home.” 

“You called 911 at 10:23. I left you at 9:30. It took you over 45 minutes to get home two blocks away?” 

“Well yeah. I stopped the market. Meal prep, remember? I told you I wanted to do it today,” you explained, narrowing your eyes at Sonny. “Why? Do you think I did this to her?” 

He shook his head and looked at you incredulously. “No, what? No. I just want to know why CSU found fluids in your bed.” 

“Fluids?” you repeated. 

“Yeah, fluids, like semen.” 

“You think I had time to go home and have sex with someone before realizing that Emma was hurt? The door to my apartment was open when I got home, Sonny. I didn’t have time to fuck anyone and I surely wouldn’t have gone home to have sex if I found my door wide open and my roommate wasn’t responding after I called out to her repeatedly. You’re an asshole,” you concluded and shoved him out of your way. “Just leave, alright? I can’t believe you.” 

“I’m sorry, I just..” 

“What, got worried? Got insecure? Thought maybe I’d find someone who was better than you?” you snapped and continued down the hall, back to the waiting area. “Welcome to my thought process on the daily. Find another rebound, I’m kind of busy.” 

[therandomfics]

TMA: 4

Between working non-stop to make up for the lack of help at work and trying to maintain a normal-yet-fake relationship with Peter, you’d nearly forgotten that he had invited you to be his date at the Bar’s dinner. From what Peter had told you it was a soiree to be remembered, with all of the well known names in law in New York State. Anyone who passed the bar and joined the association was welcomed to join, he’d explained, but really only those well connected showed up. It was sure to be an exciting time, or so he said. 

Truth be told you weren’t comfortable with the idea of faking a relationship in front of Sonny just for spite, but you knew it was make Peter happy and you had come to find yourself wanting his happiness more than anything else as of late. Peter Stone had swept into your life and shaken things up without his knowledge, and while you’d thought up a million different ways to tell him you thought he was wonderful, you thought better of them all and kept quiet. 

The night of the party you left work earlier than usual, just to make sure you had time to get ready. On your bed you’d laid out your evening wear - a jet black chiffon gown sure to match Peter’s suit, with red sling-back heels. Peter assured you that he would wear a red tie, despite the quite strict black-tie affair dress code. He could see how excited you were when you explained what you’d be wearing and he wanted to make sure that you maintained the same level of enthusiasm. After you showered, you styled your hair in loose curls that cascaded down your back and made your face up with a simple but elegant combination of red lipstick and a soft shimmer on your eyelids. You felt beautiful. 

Clearly, Peter agreed. When you answered the door to your small apartment to greet him, he sighed gently and smiled. 

“You look absolutely wonderful,” he commented as you ushered him inside. 

You tried to hide your blush by looking away, but gave in and smiled at him in return. “Thanks, Peter. You look amazing yourself,” you complimented, noting the perfect red of his tie to match your shoes. “I’m nervous though, honestly. I mean, I’m not the kind of person who spends much time around high powered attorneys.” 

He shook his head dismissively. “You’re with me. Don’t be nervous, I’m not going to let anything happen. Most of these men are honestly.. stupid,” he paused, laughing. “Not intellectually but in terms of social cues, they don’t know. If anything they’re going to be nervous to talk to you. You’re stunning.” 

“Stop,” you insisted and covered your face with your hands. You sighed and revealed your face, reaching for your shrug. “Shall we get this over with?” 

“Don’t sound so excited,” he muttered with a playful frown. You wanted so badly to reach for his hand, but you knew that it was just a ploy. He didn’t know how you felt about him, and he didn’t need to know, especially not when he was confiding in you his biggest fears and anxieties. It just wasn’t worth the price to be paid by risking anything. 

_________

The Bar Association’s event was one for the ages. You lost count of the servers bustling about with trays of champagne and small treats that looked less than appealing to you. Peter stayed at your side faithfully, making it a point to introduce you to everyone he chatted with. This is my girlfriend, Y/N. It sounded perfect, but it was all fake. 

You were tucked into Peter’s side when Sonny finally arrived with his date, a beautiful woman that seemed to be infatuated with him - and for that, you were happy. He deserved someone just as great as he was, despite how immature he had been regarding Peter. Still, that was no reason to forsake his happiness. When Peter finally realized that Sonny approaching to chat, he pointedly re-positioned you so that you were facing the oncoming traffic of Sonny and his date. 

“Stone!” he said cheerfully, extending his hand. He stopped just short of shaking Peter’s hand as you looked up from staring into your champagne glass to meet his gaze. Apparently you cleaned up well - that, or he was so shocked that his plan had worked. “Y/N?” 

You smiled, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies as Peter wrapped his arm around you and pulled you snug to his side. “Hey.” 

“I owe you one, Carisi,” Peter said with a laugh. He nodded down at you and bit back a smile. “Thanks.” 

You rolled your eyes and introduced yourself to Sonny’s date. Her name was Haleema, and she worked at a law office only a few blocks away. Sonny had asked her to be his date and she confessed she’d been waiting for the longest time. You both shared a small giggle before turning your attention back to Peter and Sonny. The tail end of the conversation was drifting away in the noise of chatter and music from everyone around you, but you distinctly heard Peter call you his girlfriend.. again. It felt better than any chemical boost could have possibly made you feel. 

“So you landed Stone,” Sonny said with a smirk. “I didn’t really.. well, whatever it really doesn’t matter. Congrats, Y/N.” 

“What would I do without you?” you replied, only barely stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. 

Sonny had little time to answer before Peter leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear, whispering, “Dance with me?” 

When you walked away with Peter, you knew you’d left your sense of sanity behind on the floor: he was driving you mad. 

Everything felt warm. It felt warm, and it felt hazy, and you were in such a state of bliss that you couldn’t think of very much else that could make you happier. Peter’s arms were around you and he was swaying with you to the beat of music you couldn’t hear anymore, humming gently so that you could feel the vibration with your head against his shoulder. 

Reality sneaked a jab in a moment later though - a sharp reminder that this wasn’t real. Peter wasn’t really yours, and you weren’t his. This was all so that Sonny would feel that he was cupid, and so that when you ‘broke up’ with Peter, he would learn his lesson in meddling. 

Irrelevant. That’s what your heart told you. 

Stop being stupid, your head countered. 

You shut them both out and gave Peter a soft squeeze with your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

What you hadn’t realized at that moment, but Peter had, was that you’d just silently told him everything that he’d wanted to know, but wasn’t courageous enough to ask yet. 

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he murmured, his face near yours. 

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” you replied with a dazed smile. 

A few feet away, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sonny and Haleema dancing together, his eyes following the two of you every few moments. 

Peter’s nose brushed against yours, closer now than ever before. You felt like you could collapse at any moment from the rush of emotions that were drowning your normal sense of self.  A choppy sigh left your throat as you felt his lips brush against yours, asking for permission to continue. Any anxiety that normally resided in your mind evaporated. Before you realized what happened, you’d stopped dancing entirely and pressed your lips to his in a warm, champagne flavored kiss. It was soft and sweet, work function appropriate, but served only to make you want more. When you pulled away, you buried your face against his chest and relaxed in relief as you felt him hold you tightly - the perfect response to quell your anxiety. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and pulled away a few moments later, making sure to grab your hand as he tugged you through the small crowd of dancing couples and off of the dance floor entirely. 

A thick gold curtain with matching ropes was the only divider between the dinner party and the privacy of the dark, unused section of the banquet hall. Peter made sure that you were close behind as he guided you behind the partition and into the seclusion of the empty room. 

“Peter, I -” you began, but he shushed you by placing his index finger softly against your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he insisted, dropping his hand so that he could lace his fingers with yours. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. I’m sincerely sorry.” 

In the dark, you could barely make out the morose nature of his expression. He couldn’t see yours either, the sadness that was turning the corners of your lips down. “Please don’t apologize, Peter. It’s fine. It’s more than fine.” 

The silence between you was suddenly heavy as you realized that you’d just encouraged the charade to continue even when you weren’t acting for an unknowing audience. 

“I.. I don’t want this to..” he sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t want this to ruin.. anything.” 

You pulled your hand away and pulled your Pashmina around your shoulders. “I understand, Peter. It’s really quite fine. I’m sorry if I let it go too far. That was my mistake.” 

He laughed softly and pulled you into a hug just as the curtain was thrown back, revealing Sonny’s curious face. “Networking doesn’t mean hiding with your date. Go dance with Brooklyn’s ADA’s wife or something.” 

“Thanks for the privacy, Carisi,” Peter said dryly. “We’re getting ready to leave, actually. I’m not feeling very social right now.” 

Sonny arched a brow and then shrugged, dropping from view. 

“I can call a cab, Peter. Please don’t leave on account of me,” you insisted, pulling away. 

“No,” he insisted and brushed his fingers against your arm. “Let me drive you home. I want to leave, but only if I’m with you.” 

{I suck with a tag list.. I am sorry lol. I’ve been so incredibly tired when I get home and so I’ve been particularly lazy.. I apologize. I hope that I can churn some more out soon. If not I’m off 4 days at Christmas! Love to you all! <3}