I appear to be completely incapable of writing full length anything anymore but I just LOVE these two.....@hawkinsmikami you and your gifs inspired me! Thank you for creating them!
On one hand, Violet thinks as puts down her phone, settling into her bunk for as long as the bells are quiet, it is kind of hot keeping her and Evanās relationship a secret. Thereās something about sneaking around that sheād never really considered to be such a turn on for her.
Like the other week, she and Brett had some recertification at the Academy and heād been there for a meeting so she saw him in the hallway when she went to the restroom. āHeyā, heād said, this wide smile that looked so good on his face.
āHey yourselfā, she moved to go past him, but he had lightly grabbed her wrist, dark eyes even darker and said āsee you later?ā in this quiet, steady way that she knew didnāt really mean it was a question at all.
(Later, as soon as he answered his door, she muscled him up against it, letting his eyes rake over her before she kissed him. When he pulled her top up a little too much to be decent considering they were pretty much in his hallway, he kicked the door shut behind them and then moved her back until he had her down on the couch, shirt and bra thrown somewhere across the room. He used that voice again when he said āI thought about you like this all dayā, had her back arching towards him without him even having to touch her. Even now, days later, she shivers, this rush all through her just thinking about it).
(title from https://mbird.com/poetry/a-poem-for-autumn-grace-by-wendell-berry/ ; existing in the same universe they all do - https://heartsapartment.tumblr.com/post/668831063351738368/fic-excerpt)
Sylvie rests her head on the back of the couch, closes her eyes. Abruptly opens them again when she hears a slight stirring from the bassinet beside her.
Checking its contents, she satisfies herself that her daughter (and yikes, even just thinking that word feels crazy now sheās actually here) is still asleep, tiny body scrunched up.
She leans back again, looking over at Matt, his back to them as he stirs whatever heās making for dinner. She watches him for a minute, lets her eyes track his movements around their kitchen, occasionally catching the shine of the band of metal sheād put on his left hand only a few months ago.
Sheās not sure she can really describe all the feelings she has in body, all adding up so she feels like sheās one minute away from bursting. Sheās exhausted for sure, her body feeling like a truck had run over her and then backed up again for the hell of it. And sheās had this vague sensation of being constantly on the verge of tears since the moment Caitlin appeared in the world. But everything else is just pure, overwhelming happiness.
She shifts slightly as Matt comes over to sit next to her, peeking into the bassinet as he does. He throws his arm around her shoulders and she cuddles in, resting her head on this chest. Heās silent for a minute, just looking.
āWe have a babyā. His voice breaks the silent, sounding so serious, so shocked it makes her start slightly. She turns her head towards him and sees his eyes are kind of wide, kind of like the way victims look whenever they arrive on scene.
She canāt help but laugh then, a little loudly before she covers her mouth in case Caitlin wakes up. That makes Matt laugh, and she guesses they might be a little hysterical because neither of them can stop.
āIām glad itās not just meā, Sylvie manages to control her laughing after a minute, wipes her eyes. āIāve been sitting here wondering how she got hereā.
Matt chuckles, pulling her back against him, arm around her once more, his left hand playing with hers. āI remember the essential parts of the howā, his eyes glint and she rolls her eyes. āBut I guess I didnāt really imagine too much what it would feel like to actually have her here. Itāsā¦..ā, he breaks off, swallows. āAmazingā.
āIt isā, she agrees, turning her head and placing a kiss on his shirt just above his heart. āI wonder how long it takes to get used to it?ā
āProbably about 18 yearsā.
She giggles, burying her head further in his chest.
He has one hand on her thigh, mindlessly stroking it. She closes her eyes, just enjoying the feel of it.
āYouāve given meā¦.everything, Sylvieā. She opens her eyes immediately to the sound of his voice, turns towards him. Heās looking at her, serious again, but face so open and eyes full of love. āEverything Iāve ever dreamed aboutā¦.ā. He reaches out, strokes up and down her cheek. āThank youā.
Sylvie canāt help the smile that comes to her face then, tilts her head back when she knows he wants to kiss her, allows him to pull her the rest of the way towards him. When they pull back, she leaves a hand around the back of his neck, their foreheads touching. āI love you. Whatever Iāve given to you, youāve given to me tooā.
The moment is disturbed by a proper cry coming from the bassinet. Matt gets to the baby first, lifts her out gently. His voice is so low, almost a whisper, murmuring some soothing nonsense.
āI think sheās hungryā, he says to Sylvie after bouncing her for a few minutes. āYou ready?ā
Sylvie shifts, ready to take her daughter into her lap. Matt kisses her little forehead, placing her in Sylvieās waiting arms with a āhere you go Caitie girlā.
āCaitie?ā Sylvie looks up at him, eyebrows raised.
āFeels like it suits herā, he shrugs, looking down at them. He touches Sylvieās faces for a minute, before pulling back. āIām going to finish dinner nowā.
She smiles, watching him walk away. Thinks about years ago, brand new in Chicago, broken engagement and the future she thought she was working towards in tatters. All the lives she could have lived that didnāt work out.
In the kitchen, Matt is spooning the pasta out onto plates, humming something under his breath. Caitlinās little suckling noises match the tune.
āIāll be a minuteā, she says, shifting Caitlin in her arms. āStart without meā.
Happy Friday!! Here's a snippet from something I'm working on that I need inspiration to finish.... set post 10x11!
Itās official, Sylvie thinks as she shuts off her phone and puts it face down on the pillow next to her. Sheās scrolled to the end of Instagram and back again.
She sighs, turns on her side and tries to get comfortable. She closes her eyes too, hoping if she squeezes them tight enough her brain will turn off.
It doesnāt.
She sighs again, flips over onto her back, tapping her hands against the sheets.
Usually after she gets off shift, she has a quiet day, maybe getting groceries on the way home, mostly content just to pad around in sweats, decompressing.
Today, though, she felt restless, couldnāt settle. Sheād even gone for a run despite the chill, feeling some nervous energy she wanted to burn off but couldnāt no matter how fast she went. Sheād felt something in her mind that she wanted to clear out, the shape of it not clear, but the weight of it taking up space. Even that didnāt help and she couldnāt shake it off so she went home, a glass of wine calling her name.
An hour later and on her second glass, she told herself she felt better, head clearer.
(She ignored two of Mattās calls, messaged him and said sheād call him later).
And she does feel better, she tells herself now. She didnāt exactly feel bad before. Thereās no good reason why she canāt sleep.
(Except, yesterday: āmy hope for you? That you get as much time as possible with Mattā).
Sylvie turns over her phone again, clicks on photos, swipes through her most recent, Ameliaās smiling face the main feature in all of them.
Swiping back further, she gets to the pictures from her weekend with Matt and the boys, Griffinās birthday party at the Mexican place they love. Ben had sent her a really sweet candid heād taken of her and Matt that neither of them knew was happening, his arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist and him looking down at her with these soft eyes she loves to sink into.
It was kind of amazing and somehow totally unsurprising to her that every time they saw each other, they slipped right back into how they were before.
Ugh. She feels that sharp familiar prick of pain when she thinks about it, how much she misses him, how much she wishes they were together all the time like they were in the summer, rather than these few days here and there.
For the first couple of months he was gone, when she was alone in the dark, she wished he was with her, in her apartment, in her bed, pressed against her back, arm slung over there the way theyād spent so many nights, the weight of him beside her pulling her into him.
Then after sheād visited him and the boys a couple of times, she began to imagine his life there, actually wanted him to be happy, build new relationships, enjoy his new life. And she knew he still wanted her to move there with him; heād made it clear to her so many times that she just had to say the word and she could be there whenever she wanted.
But sheād resisted, that little voice in her head telling her not to make the same mistake all over again, to stick with her program and achieve it, not make another half baked decision because of some guy.
But Matt isnāt just some guy. Hasnāt ever been to her, not really. And the more time passes, the more she feels that pull towards him, the missing him becoming more than she can handle.
(The thing she feels, that weight, that pressure on her? She knows what it is really. She canāt lie to herself and say she hasnāt pictured her stuff lined up with his in his bathroom in Portland, her clothes and his mixed in the wardrobe she told him to buy. She thinks about it more with each day that passes.)
Sighing deeply, she pops in an AirPod, flicks to a sleep playlist Violet recommended to her. Closes her eyes again and pretends itāll send her into a deep sleep.
Wanna move inside of your life - yes, it's ANOTHER Brettsey future fic/drabble from me. Same universe as 'we have made a home' (which you can read here: https://heartsapartment.tumblr.com/post/668831063351738368/fic-excerpt), just think of it as happening a couple of years earlier!
Oh and title taken from Dermot Kennedy - What Have I Done. Enjoy!
āAnd thatās the last of itā, Matt puts down the suitcase heās carrying next to the three others heās already brought in for her. He squints a little. āI probably shouldāve considered adding another wing to the houseā.
āHey!ā Sylvie playfully throws a sweater sheās just pulled out of her suitcase at him. āDo you know how hard it is to fit your entire life into four suitcases? Even my packing cubes werenāt cutting itā.
āIām teasingā, he drops her sweater on the bed, puts his arm around her waist from behind, places a kiss on her ear. āAlthough we probably should buy a bigger wardrobeā.
āOh, I saw one I liked online, Iāll show you itā, she smiles as Matt trails kisses from her ear down her neck. āThis is not conducive to me unpackingā.
She feels his smile against her skin, watching as he pulls a shirt sheās holding out of her hands, dropping it, and turning her around.
She runs her hands across his chest, both of them just looking at each other. He strokes her face, pulls her bottom lip down with his thumb, leans in.ā Iām glad youāre hereā, he whispers against her mouth.
She drops her hands down his chest, fingers playing with his belt. āMaybe you can show me how glad?ā, she pulls back, bites her lip. She knows he knows her head tilt is an invitation.
Her laugh echoes around the room as he lifts her easily, tipping them onto the bed, his weight landing on top of her, mouth warm against her neck.
******
Later, she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter, sipping her wine as her eyes track Matt around the kitchen as pulls out peppers from the refrigerator, a spice jar from the drawer. She forgot how much she just likes to watch him.
He catches her looking a few times, each time smiling as she blushes, guilty, and when he passes her, running his hand along her thigh or touching her waist, occasionally dropping her a kiss.
Ben arrives back for dinner, gives her a full on hug (āhe really canāt stop talking about you moving inā, Matt had told her one day. āSays he wants you to make your mac & cheese once a weekā). Heās much more talkative now than the first Thanksgiving they had together, telling her all about this coding class heās taking over the summer. Thereās a steadiness to him now, a solidness she knows is all to do with Matt.
They work as a team after dinner, Ben washing the dishes and Sylvie drying. Ben leaves them alone so he can complete some assignment thatās due next week (ādid he just say that?ā Matt had asked her, incredulous), and they take up their old familiar positions when they watch something together, lying side by side, his arm around her and her head on his chest, hand on his stomach.
Sylvie feels tired, eyes closing, long day getting the best of her. His t-shirt is the good kind of old, soft from so many washes, smelling just like him.
She thinks she might have fallen asleep because the next thing she knows, Matt is shaking her gently, brushing her hair back from her face. āLetās go to bedā, he whispers, pulling her up.
She follows him upstairs, tiredness settling in. He shuts the door to his, their, room behind them. Sylvie goes to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, decides to leave unpacking anything else until morning when she can see straight. She leans against the door, watching as he takes his t-shirt off, moving a package off of his side of the bed (likes how she can say that there's a his side for good now), something sheād thrown onto it earlier when they pulled the sheets back on.
āWhatās in here?ā He picks up the misshapen object, thick with bubble wrap, trying to pry it open. He pulls a corner of the tape covering it free, confused at first, eyes creasing with a laugh as he realizes what it is.
āSo the hula lamp is going to be a main feature here too?ā
āItās vintageā, Sylvie smiles. āPlus I couldnāt give her away, I feel like sheās my roommateā.
Matt laughs again. āShe can stayā. He puts the lamp down on the dresser, smiling. Sylvie wonders if he remembers the very first time he was properly in her bedroom, after, when heād turned to her and said so seriously, āthat is the strangest lamp Iāve ever seenā. She thinks about that night a lot, how inevitable it all felt to her once it finally happened.
She watches him again, going about his nightly routine in front of her. Wonders if it will ever become something she takes for granted. She gets this squeezing feeling in her heart when she realizes that this is going to be her life now, night after night, day after day.
Everything with Matt has always felt like itās been a long time coming.
Matt climbs in beside her and pulls her into him, warm against her back, kisses the side of her neck, whispers āI love youā into her ear.
Oh little bird take me home - Brettsey future fic, existing somewhere in the 'we have made a home' universe! Happy Tuesday! And if you read this, please enjoy!
(title from the Leah Blevins song)
The house is unusually quiet when Matt shuts the door behind him. Normally at this time in the morning, when he comes back from shift, Sylvie and Caitlin are up, Caitie instantly crawling over to him at a speed that always catches Matt off guard. Sylvieās in the kitchen, calling out her own greeting, ready with a wide smile and a hello kiss, the smell of her body lotion from an earlier shower following her everywhere (āitās coconutā, sheād told him once years ago, when heād got her pinned against her bedroom door in her old apartment, her in just a towel because heād caught her on the way out of the shower and him testing out if it tasted like it smelled. It didnāt but that also didnāt stop him).
This morning, though, thereās nobody downstairs. Matt figures it had been the rough night Sylvie had expected. Caitie had woken up sick yesterday, feverish and fussy. Matt had felt bad leaving Sylvie to deal with it by herself and knew it had been about as bad as expected based on Sylvieās text messages. Heād been awake overnight on calls, had called Sylvie at about 4am when he knew she was still up and heard a whining cry in the background.
He leaves his boots in the hall, tries not to make a lot of noise as he walks upstairs. He can tell Caitieās not in her nursery because the door is wide open, lights on, so he switches them off, crosses the hall and pushes open his own bedroom door as quietly as he can.
Sylvie and Caitie are sound asleep, bigger body curled around the smaller one but with a set of well placed pillows because Sylvieās still paranoid sheāll squash her in her sleep, even 9 months in.
He leans against the door, just looks. Remembers something from years ago, heās not exactly sure when anymore (āyouāre getting oldā, Sylvie teases him any time he says something like that, kisses his cheek after when he gets faux-wounded), some save he made when heād just been promoted to lieutenant. It was a restaurant fire, some family-run place that had been around forever, and the family was so grateful, they brought food to the house for years after, and the first time, a really sweet note with a picture on the front of about 4 generations sitting around a table, no-one aware of the camera, smiling, radiating something Matt really couldnāt put his finger on at the time. When the father of the family had delivered it, heād told Matt that those were his favorite kinds of pictures, not posed, just real, because those kinds of moments were what he was lucky enough to look at every day.
Matt is pretty sure he knows what that feeling is now.
Heās broken out of his thoughts by Sylvieās soft āoh, youāre back!ā, head raising a bit off her pillow to look at him.
He smiles, moves into the room, dropping his jacket on the floor and sitting down as lightly as he can on Sylvieās side of the bed. āLong night?ā
She lets him push back her hair, nuzzles into his hand. āThe longest. I donāt think she slept more than 10 minutes before about 6am. I feel like Iām hungoverā. She puts a hand to her head. āHow was shift?ā
āNormalā, he runs his fingers through her hair before lightly massaging her head. She groans at that, pushing her head into his hands with a little more force. āBetter?ā
She nods sweetly, closes her eyes.
He kicks his feet up, stretching his body alongside hers, and she nestles back into him, the hand from her hair now under her neck, her lips grazing it every so often as he curves it around her body.
They both turn slightly, just watching their daughter sleep beside them, tiny little breaths puffing in and out. Matt can feel Sylvieās body start to loosen with sleep coming back to her. His own eyelids start to close, like the rhythm of Caitieās breaths are sheep heās counting.
we have made a home - Brettsey future fic as it exists in my head, which appears to be the only thing I can write now. In honor of the holidays, and also because this show and this pairing still bring me joy!
Out of the corner of her eye, Sylvie can see Mattās truck pull into the driveway.
āYou can ask the expert, heās homeā, she says back to Griffin, who looks more anxious by the minute. āAnd donāt worry, weāve got all day and youāve been preparing for this for weeks. Itāll be greatā.
āYeah, no pressure, itās only Thanksgivingā.
āBenā. Sylvie shoots a look at the younger boy (man? She canāt really get used to how old he and Griff are getting) who just likes to tease his brother. He just smirks, blows her a kiss. She canāt help but smile.
She turns her head towards the door, Matt calling out āHappy Thanksgivingā as he comes in, a blast of colder air following behind him. She can hear Caitieās happy gurgles as Matt goes over and picks her up, kissing her (āItās just kind of rude, I mean, I birthed her and I donāt think sheās ever been so happy to see meā, Sylvie had complained to Matt when he came home from shift once. Matt had just laughed, kissed her, said āif it helps, Iām always happy to see youā).
Matt says hi to her mom & dad, the boys each get a slap on the back, and his eyes land on her, bright but soft. āHeyā, he leans in to kiss her, Caitie holding on to his jacket, little hands curled into it. He looks around the room. āLooks like a full on morningā, eyeing the array of toys that had been emptied out of her toybox.
āFunās just beginningā, she says, motioning towards the coffee maker. āYou want?ā
āPleaseā. He leans back against the counter. āHowās it going here?ā
Sylvie shrugs, pours him a cup, slides it over. āNo-oneās dead yetā.
He takes a big gulp, raising his eyebrows in the direction of the couch where Sylvieās mom is now sitting beside Griffin, pouring over the recipes heās painstakingly handwritten because āitās traditional Sylvieā. āAre we in a ātoo many cooks in the kitchenā situationā?
āSomething like thatā.
Matt leans back against the counter. āWhoās doing breakfast?ā
Sylvie grimaces. āI was going to and then I got distracted. Someoneā¦ā, she motions at the baby, āwas not playing nicelyā.
Before he can say anything else, their relative peace gets broken by Sylvieās mom. āMatt, will you please explain that the turkey needs at least three hours? Although maybe you think Iām wrong, Iāve only been cooking Thanksgiving dinner for forty-five yearsā¦ā
āI donāt think anyone is saying youāre wrong, Diā, Sylvie can hear her dad trying to negotiate the situation.
Matt shoots Sylvie a smile, āIāll make breakfastā. He leans over, kisses her forehead, shifting Caitie to her arms. āDistract your mother with the baby?ā.
Sylvie chuckles, enjoying the feeling of his hands as they linger around her waist, his eyes on hers. āThatās not a bad ideaā, she whispers into the sliver of space between them, over the head of their daughter.
He lets her go after a moment, turning to the rest of the room. āWho wants bacon?ā
That distracts them enough to stop the noise for a minute. Caitie yawns, her early start catching up with her. Sylvie bounces her a few times, letting Matt move them out of the way to get something out of a cupboard. Heās got a smile on his face Sylvie recognizes from the old days at 51, when he would just look at everything going on around him, not an active participant in the chaos, just happy. Sylvie always knew Matt Casey was made for having a family.
She sits down on one of the barstools next to Ben. Her coffee cup is slightly out of reach, so Ben slides it the rest of the way for her, tickling Caitieās cheek with his other hand.
āIāll be sous chefā, she hears her mom offer.
āNo needā, Matt says quickly. āIām just doing something easyā.
Sylvie picks up her cup, hides her smile behind it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Chicago Fire
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Characters: Sylvie Brett, Matthew Casey, Griffin Darden, Ben Darden
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, domestic Brettsey, Teen Angst, Supportive Sylvie Brett, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:
Sylvie has this weird feeling, like she had been untethered for the past month, just kind of floating above everything, and now, with her hand in Mattās, his presence so solid beside her, like sheās been brought back to earth, safe and whole.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Chicago Fire
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Characters: Sylvie Brett, Griffin Darden, Matthew Casey
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, domestic Brettsey, Supportive Sylvie Brett, Teenage Angst with Questions, Future Fic
Summary:
Sylvie considers the question for a minute, the best way to answer it. Griffin still hasnāt looked back at her, the flush still in his cheeks. Sometimes now, he looks like a man and then some other times, she thinks she can see the shadow of the kid he was once, like he is in the pictures Matt had kept of him and his brother from when they lived with him before.
āIām going to tell you something that someone once told me,ā she begins. āAnd thatās that when you meet someone who you click with, sometimes all those so-called rules, if they even exist in the first place, they justā¦go out the windowā.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Chicago Fire
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Characters: Sylvie Brett, Matthew Casey, Emily Foster
Additional Tags: Comfort/Angst, I don't like to see Sylvie Brett sad, Canon but I'm taking over from here, Post 10x06
Summary:
Sylvie lets his words wash over her, fill up the hollow feeling inside her. She pictures his face, the way he looks at her, the love he gives her. She lets herself know in every part of her, down to her bones, why she wanted to stay with him.
Itās a bit like how she fell in love with him; she really didnāt have any other choice.
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