Hello! My name is Michelle and I write Fanfiction - I write Fanfiction for a lot, so don’t be afraid to ask! I used to write on Wattpad too, but now I solely write here. Thank you! Masterlist
Tags: fem!reader, Aemond being sassy (when is he not tho), kind of plus size!reader, but not that much.
Check out my masterlist!
This idea popped into my head after seeing a video talking about fashion designers who loved women instead of creating fashion that ostracizes women's bodies, and for some reason, I thought of Aemond as a fashion designer.
Word Count: 3.6k~
A constant beeping coming from my phone is what broke me away from the only thing I had planned today - sleeping. My current job is awful, and like many other people, I have been severely overworked. So today was meant for rest and relaxation, but after seeing the many messages on my phone, that all changed.
From: Gigi 💜
Girl I left one of my work books at the apartment
This is an emergency!
I’ll pay you 50 to bring it
100?
250???
I’ll sell you my soul if you bring it!
PLEASE BRING IT !!!!!!!
The crying face emojis at the very of end of the texts are what really made me get up and get going, throwing on a simple pair of jeans and t-shirt before heading out into our busy city. I don’t mind bringing her the workbook, don’t get me wrong, but if I can avoid driving, I will dodge it like a virus; however, I know that she’s not lying when she says this is an emergency.
Her boss is a little like mine, except my boss is just a manager over a simple business office - her boss is a millionaire fashion designer who’s been on the covers of too many magazines to count. His fashion is absolutely gorgeous and the pictures of his events are absolutely show-stopping. I’ve seen plenty of videos of his fashion, often paired with the caption ‘you can tell when a fashion designer truly loves women.’ Not to mention the man himself is also pretty breathtaking, if I’m being honest.
His works are great, but he didn’t become as successful as he is by just having fabulous fashion ideas. He had to be rude, he had to be cut-throat in order to get as far as he has, and unfortunately, he’s that way when dealing with Gigi sometimes. She knows just as I do that it comes with the territory of being an assistant. Thankfully, though, she gets paid a good amount to make up for it.
This is the store that I’ve always driven past, but never stopped at. I’ve seen their advertisements and the beautiful clothes they design, but unfortunately, I’ve never been able to afford anything of theirs. They’re truly designer clothes, and I’m not a rich person by any means. Even some of the things Gigi has gifted to me from the store make me feel bad for just accepting them. Granted, she gets a huge discount working for the major designer, but still - giving your best friend a dress costing more than two months of your rent is a lot.
“Hi, may I help you find something?” The lady at the front desk asks as soon as I walk in. I watch as a distasteful frown settles on her face while she takes in my appearance, but I try not to let it affect me. My anxiety is already high from stepping into a place like this, I certainly don’t need miss tight-ass making it worse.
“Um, I’m actually looking for…” I slowly draw on as I look around the two story building. A flash of familiar blonde hair and dripping jewels amongst mannequins catches my attention after a couple seconds, making me look back to the front desk with a smile. “She’s over there,” I tell the worker with a nod of my head before heading over there in spite of her protests. I know I look like I don’t belong here and I’m earning quite a bit of stares from the workers alone, but I’m not staying for long; I just need to give these papers to Gigi without worrying about anyone else losing them.
“Gigi!” I call out to her as she walks past a mannequin currently adorned with a shimmering ball gown. Upon hearing her name, she swings back around before a smile breaks out on her face. She then rushes toward me, only to give me a strong hug.
“Girl, you have no idea how much a life saver you are,” She tells me, pulling away afterward to look at me. “You okay? You didn’t have any trouble getting here, right?”
Her questions make me smile and shake my head at her. “No, I didn’t have any trouble,” I explain, leaning a little closer as I lower my voice. “The lady at the front though, she clearly knew I didn’t belong here.”
Gigi practically guffaws at my words despite me trying to keep my voice low. “That is preposterous!” She exclaims, “Everyone belongs here, everyone deserves to look good - especially you!” Her words cause me to close my eyes in exasperation, a small chuckle escaping my mouth as I realize what I said went entirely over her head.
“Gigi, no, its not that,” I begin with a small wave of my hand. “its the fact that I can’t-“
“And what is this going on over here?” The sudden arrival of a loud, yet smooth English accent causes everything to stop, and when I say everything, I mean everything. I stop talking, the people looking at the shelves stop to turn, the workers stocking the displays pause to look, and to add insult to injury, even the generic store music seemingly begins to fade out in the background. I feel myself freeze along with everyone else until my eyes catch Gigi relax a little, her eyes trained on the owner of the voice standing behind me.
“Mr. Targaryen,” She announces, regaining her professional tone. “my friend stopped by with my logbook, so I have it now,” She explains to him, before looking back to me with a small, apologetic smile. “She was just about to head out too, so I will get back to work this instant.”
“Without introducing me to your friend?” I hear him say behind me with an almost incredulous tone. Those words make me turn around out of sheer curiosity, breaking me out of my scared trance. Gigi’s always told me about her boss and how… demanding he can be. She always makes sure to say that he’s not a bad guy, but he can be a bit exhausting or unconventional at times, but again - how else does someone in his position get as far as he has?
Now face to face with him, I can’t help but do once over of him. His beautiful hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail with a few stray stands adorning the side of his face. The suit he wears is also beautiful with the material being composed of some kind of black renaissance pattern and accented by a maroon vest and pocket square. Most of all, his face practically glows in the sunlight coming from the wide windows adorning the walls of the store, his cheekbones and strong jawline naturally highlighted along with the blue jewel in place of his missing eye. The magazines I’ve seen him in certainly don’t do him enough justice.
Turning my attention away from his appearance, I watch as the silver haired man stares back at me, his face taking on a different expression the longer he looks at me. I try to figure out what he might be thinking, but it’s only when Gigi tells him my name that I’m able to determine if he’s judging me or not. Going by the small smile on his face, I’d say he might not be judging me… maybe.
“Aemond, love, please call me Aemond,” He introduces himself to me, holding a hand out for me to take. Timidly, I do so, only to watch as he drags my hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to skin there. The breath in my throat catches as he does this, never having a man do that before, much less a world-known fashion designer.
“Gigi,” He calls out to her where she remains behind me. “You didn’t tell me your friend was a model.”
Aemond’s comment catches me off guard, causing me to shake my head as I look between him and Gigi. “Oh no, I-I’m not a model,” I try to tell him, but he quickly dismisses my words.
“How can you say that when you have such a perfect body for modeling?” He says, truly making me pause. After a few seconds of looking at him in complete confusion, I speak up again.
“Really?” I can’t help but ask, looking down before gesturing to my body with my hands. “I-I wouldn’t say I have a model’s body, you might… be confused,” I add, looking back up to find Aemond staring at me with a hand on his hip. He doesn’t appear to be very happy with what I said.
“Complete nonsense, my dear,” He tells me with a wave of his hand before turning toward Gigi with a delighted smile. “I want her measurements and quickly. I have many ideas I don’t want to waste,” he demands, his eye flickering over to me once more. “I also want my most recent pieces brought out, I have yet to see them on a model.”
My eyes roll as he yet again when refers to me as something I’m not. I never once said that since I walked through those doors, and still, he continues to call me that. “Mister Targaryen, please, I am not-“ Just as I go to correct him, he cuts me off.
“Lovely, I’ve told you already, please, call me Aemond.” He reminds me, now walking toward me before taking my hands in his. Holding my arms out by my sides, his eye scans over seemingly every inch of my body, but weirdly, it doesn’t feel perversive. Still, I find myself shifting my legs together from the sudden feeling of vulnerability, a smirk forming on his face as he watches me do so.
“Such beauty should not be wasted. Come,” He murmurs before walking off with me beside him, releasing one of my hands while keeping the other still encased in his. Gigi quickly follows behind us, giving me a thumbs-up when I turn around to give her a wary look. She looks as if this is the greatest thing to ever happen, meanwhile I’m stuck wondering what the hell is even going on.
After a few hallways and an elevator ride to the tallest floor of the building, we all stop in front of large, wooden doors painted black to match the rest of store’s accents. Holding her clipboard to her chest, Gigi unlocks the door and opens it for us, revealing what I assume is Aemond’s office.
Walking in with him, he guides me to stand by his desk and releases my hand, but not before placing yet another small kiss to the back of it. “Gigi will get your measurements now, lovely,” he explains, heading behind his desk to look over what I assume are sketches. Meanwhile, I can’t help but look around and admire the room. All the exquisite paintings and elegant decor spread throughout the room are all extremely beautiful, and the black and white marbled floors only add to that. Even the desk alone looks brilliant with its gold accents and sleek black top.
Just as he said, Gigi comes over and begins wrapping a measuring tape around various parts of my body while I’m left blindly to do as she says. “Spread your legs a bit more,” She tells me while wrapping the yellow tape around my thigh. Seeing me shuffle my leg a little, she smiles up at me before speaking up once more. “Are you excited?”
“Gigi, I hardly even know what the hell is going on,” I answer her truthfully, only earning an amused laugh in response. “Does this usually happen to people who walk in those doors?”
“Never,” She tells me, standing back up from her squatting position as she begins measuring my arms. “I’ve never heard him tell someone to call him Aemond either,” She leans in close to my face, whispering, “Even I’m not allowed to do that.”
“Bring these out, specifically the Amsterdam collection.” Aemond’s voice breaks us away from our little conversation, quickly coming into view with a book held out in his hand. Gigi quickly takes it before heading off to another room, leaving just me and Aemond in the room.
“My apologies for being so forward, darling, but you are exactly what I imagine when designing my clothes,” he explains to me, “You are truly the image I see, it’s… mind-blowing,” my eyes quickly catch the excited grin now taking over his lips, a stark difference to every photo I’ve ever seen of him where he stares at the camera with the fiercest gaze I’ve ever seen. “You are an inspiration - my muse has come to life before my very eyes,” he confesses just before Gigi comes back into the room filled with stunning clothes.
I can’t help but be taken aback by his words. They’re unbelievable, but they are also very endearing. Never once did I ever think a man would call me his muse, let alone Aemond Targaryen who also happens to be my friend’s boss. This is the stuff that only occurs in dreams, but as Gigi starts to bring out racks with undeniably gorgeous clothes adorning them, I know my dreams could never conjure up such beautiful things.
The sets Gigi has me put on are stunning, just like the ones I saw when I walked in; however, these patterns and styles are ones I really love, and strangely enough, the sets all fit on me. Every one of my curves is accentuated perfectly, and even the places I typically try to hide look great. I’ve never had clothes fit me like this unless they were stretchy, and in all honesty, I can’t remember the last time I felt this good while trying on clothes, much less dresses. These clothes make me feel exactly how Aemond described me - a model - and I’ve never felt that way before.
“I’d love to see that smile all the time,” I hear Aemond’s familiar voice break the silence of the room, making me look away from the floor length mirror and over to him where he leans against the doorway, staring at me. He wears a calm smile for once, and his posture is fairly relaxed unlike earlier when we first met. I guess maybe he could’ve been in “work mode” or something; I did catch him in the middle of what looked like him bossing his workers around.
“These clothes are really… beautiful,” I tell him, too overcome by the excitement I feel over trying on the clothes. It would take me months to save up for some of these items, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy them in the moment. Plus, Gigi took plenty of photos of me in the outfits, so at least I’ll have those to remember the cute clothes I got to try on today.
“Thank you, darling,” Aemond tells me, taking my hand in his before holding it to his lips once again. I don’t miss the way Gigi’s head shoots up hearing the few simple words leave his mouth, her eyes wide and mouth open in shock, but ultimately, she chooses not to say anything. Instead, she focuses on finishing the work on her laptop before heading out of the room all the while a couple of workers hang up and put away all the clothes I tried on. I feel bad seeing them clean up my mess, but just as I go to walk over and help them, Aemond pulls me closer to him with a slight tug.
“Where are you going, love?” He asks, slightly confused. Gesturing toward the workers behind me, I go to begin explaining the need to help them, but Aemond merely laughs. “No, no, no, we have much more important things to discuss right now.”
“Like what?” I ask. What else does he want to know?
“How did you like the clothes? Any suggestions?” He further questions, looking down at me with a small smile.
A couple seconds pass before I finally respond, completely dumbfounded. “You want suggestions from me?”
“Well, of course,” he states plainly, looking down at me expectantly.
His straightforward answer makes me let out a small astounded laugh before I finally shake my head. “I don’t have any suggestions, I loved everything,” I tell him, “I think my favorite was the flared pants and the brown vest. Oh! And the top had like the bow thing on it? Whatever it’s called?”
The smile on his face grows with each word that leaves my mouth, a small chuckle following as he watches me gesture to my neck with my index finger. “Mock necks and butterfly knots, darling,” he tells me before stepping forward to grasp my hands and raise my arms up again like before. However this time, I don’t feel as nervous. I know he’s just looking at the dress I’m currently wearing.
“Gigi knew to save this one for last, it’s the one I was looking forward to seeing the most on you,” he tells me, his comment making my cheeks turn almost as dark as the dress. Aemond chuckles at this.
The dress is a maroon silk, the length of it nearly touching the floor all the while the sleeves flow off the shoulders and get larger as they reach my wrists. The material practically sparkles in the sunlight coming from the large window behind his desk, making the dress look even more breathtaking than it already is. It doesn’t have a price tag that I can see, but maybe one day I could afford it. I don’t know where I would wear it to, but I’d figure it out. I should probably get changed, but as I look around the room, I don’t see my clothes where I left them.
“Where’s… where’s my t-shirt and jeans?” I ask, confused as I scan the entire room. I could’ve sworn I left them right over where Gigi was sitting, but I don’t see them anywhere around the room.
“Oh honey, you didn’t think you were leaving in those rags, did you?” Aemond says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I quickly look back at him in alarm, my eyes growing wider as I take in his words.
“I-I can’t pay for this right now though,” I admit, taking a step forward in my panic, but much to my chagrin, it only lessens the distance between us. Aemond seemingly doesn’t mind, and instead, he smiles down at me as his breath nearly ghosts over my face.
“Darling, who said anything about you paying?” He asks as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my model now, you have no need to worry about paying for your clothes. I’ll be the one making them from now on, and love,” he leans in, his lips next to my ear now. “I don’t want to see another name on you, ever. Only mine will do.”
His words practically make me shiver, my breath hitching in my throat as I realize just how close he is to my face. If I turn my head just a few centimeters toward him, our lips would touch without fail, so instead, I make my brain focus on something else. It doesn’t help that the thing my brain chooses to focus on is the mix of lavender and citrus coming from his cologne. I feel like I’m going crazy from where I stand.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, nodding as Aemond leans back to resume facing me. The smirk on his face shows me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
He may be a world known fashion designer, and he may be worth more than I’ll ever make in my life, but there’s something else about him that only now I’m realizing isn’t a figment of my imagination. He more than just likes me. It’s one thing to see me as a model for his clothes (which is still a term I still highly disagree with), and going by how they all fit me perfectly, I can see why he would be excited for me to try them all on. However, the way he looks at me and talks to me, all the stolen glances and sultry tones of voice; it’s clear I’m not just a model to him.
The sudden realization makes me swallow down my nerves as I turn my eyes back up to his, unmoving in my stare. I feel a sudden bout of confidence take over me as I watch his gaze remained locked on me just the same.
“You like me more than a model, don’t you?” I ask, my boldness taking over as I look up at him with a smirk. My words receive a pleased grin back from him, his pearly white teeth on full display while he moves an arm to slide around my waist and pull me even closer. He then sighs, chuckling a little afterward.
“Ah, I was wondering when you’d figure it out, my muse.”
Tags: talks of starting a family, hints at baby-making activities
Check out my masterlist!
Word Count: ~1.2k
For as long as I can remember, late night talks are a tradition that Spencer and I have always shared in our relationship. He isn't home during the day (unless he's off which can be rare), but when we finally have some time together, we use that time and enjoy it together - just like tonight.
Just like he does after any case he returns from, he immediately takes a shower upon coming home before lying down in our bed. However, he doesn't go to sleep, and instead, he settles on keeping his eyes open and locked on the ceiling. Feeling me crawl into bed next him, Spencer glances over at me and smiles, not even wasting another second before slipping an arm around me and pulling me close to him. I wait a few moments before asking him the usual question, giving him time to get comfortable with his head in my neck and body conforming to mine.
"How was your case?"
Like he always does, he gives a little sigh and shrug before answering. "It wasn't all that great," Spencer murmurs, moving his head downward so he can kiss my forehead. "But we did manage to rescue a five-year-old boy from the kidnapper," he explains, making me smile. "The unsub would take children around the age of five because she lost her own, so in her head, she was a better mother to these kids who she thought had bad mothers,"
Once he finishes, he lets a few moments of silence pass before a small smile makes it's way to his lips. "When we rescued the boy, I felt this feeling in my heart that I couldn't explain until I started thinking about it," Turning to fully look down at me from where I have my head against his chest, he brushes away a loose strand of my hair while gazing into my eyes. "I realized that, one day, I want to have kids with you," Spencer confesses, "I realized that there's nothing more that I want than for you to be a mom and me a dad."
Every movement of my body comes to a standstill as my eyes widen, staying glued on him. It feels as though even my hearts skips a beat at Spencer's confession. We’ve been together for a while, but we've never really talked about having kids together, only in small mentions here and there. In all honesty, I never brought it up since I felt that it might be a touchy subject due to his job. I would’ve never expected him to bring it up because of his job, but I’m not going to complain either. I’ve been wanting to have this conversation for a while, I was just always too nervous - and now, I don't know if I should be worried or excited.
"Do you want that too?" He asks me, making me break away from my thoughts and back to him. Of course, I've always thought about having kids, but I never told Spencer. I've been too afraid of his reaction. To be specific, I was more afraid of possible rejection than anything else.
"Yes," I answer him almost breathlessly. For once, I don't feel scared over talking about such thing, and instead, I feel encouraged to talk about it. "I've always wanted kids, but... I never knew you wanted them," I explain, a sheepish smile taking over my face. "So, I just... never thought to say anything. I didn’t know when the time would be right for that discussion."
In an instant, Spencer's smile grows as he slides down in the bed so he can be face to face with me. Lying his head down next to mine, I smile as his nose barely touches mine while his hand moves up to gently lay his palm against my cheek. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Spencer asks, his voice quiet and calm unlike his ever-growing happiness.
"Because," I answer him with a sigh. "I didn't know how you'd react, you know? I thought you might be against it because of your job or the fact that you're not always home," I explain, shrugging. "I didn't know if you'd be okay with it or not."
A few seconds pass before Spencer attaches his lips to mine in a sweet kiss, causing me to slide my hands onto his shoulders. Pulling away after a few seconds, Spencer smiles at me, his honey-glazed eyes sparkling as he moves to lie on his back with his eyes cast on the ceiling once again and his arm pulling me to rest my head back on his chest. I look at the ceiling with him, his voice making me smile even more.
"I can imagine our kids being the greatest kids in the universe," He confesses. I laugh a little to myself at this before he resumes speaking. "I can imagine a boy and a girl, the boy a year or two older than the girl. I-I can imagine him having long brown hair like me, but having eyes like you," He continues, getting a bit excited as he speaks more. "I can imagine the girl having my eyes, and my hair too."
"None of our kids have my hair?!" I joke as if I were offended. Spencer chuckles before leaning down and kissing my head again, his lips remaining there as he responds to my comment.
"Maybe we could have three instead." He tells me, his fingers combing through my locks.
I laugh again at his words before moving over him and sliding onto his lap, straddling him as I rest my hands on his chest. "Let's slow down a bit there, babe," I suggest, giggling. "Why don't we just start out with one?"
Spencer grins beneath me while reaching a hand up to my hip and leaning up a bit on his free arm. "We can start with one, of course," he assures me, "Unless it's twins," Spencer adds, his voice growing quiet as he smirks.
"Don't jinx me, Mr. Reid." I humor him, sliding my hands up to his neck. We both laugh for a few seconds before falling into a moment of comfortable silence, our hands lingering on each other in soft and gentle caresses.
Grinning at my words, Spencer lightly pecks my lips, hovering over them for a few seconds before speaking. "I would never do that, Mrs. Reid," he jokes back, making my heart flutter. He’s said that a couple times before in moments where we’re joking around, but this time, it hits me harder. Now it feels more serious, more permanent, like he’s not just joking around now.
All of a sudden, Spencer reverses our positions with me beneath him and his body on top of mine. Hovering over me with his classic boyish smirk, he leans down and begins pressing loving kisses on my neck. "Well," he begins, pausing for a quick moment as his mouth lingers beside my ear. "Why don't we go ahead and start practicing to get a head-start?"
Tags: slight angst with a happy ending, mention of insecurities
Word Count: 1.5k~
Dating Spencer Reid is fantastic, but like any relationships, it has its ups and downs. I've started to notice that every time I go to speak to Morgan, Spencer seems to grow almost frustrated at the fact I'm talking to Morgan and he'll wander off. It's like he's jealous of Morgan even though I've obsessed to him many times before that he shouldn't be. Anything between Derek and me is purely platonic, and Derek himself has said that to Spencer; however... Spencer just doesn't seem to get it.
I don't work with Spencer and his team, but I do visit him a lot when he's not traveling. I'll bring him lunch or just come to see him when I’m on lunch to talk or just spend time together. Lately, it's been different. It's like there's an entirely different and foreign atmosphere to us. Anytime I bring him lunch, we’ll sit together and talk, but lately, he just takes the lunch I bring him and thanks me before taking off, leaving me to walk back to my office alone, my heart a bit more broken each time. I don't know what I could be doing wrong.
Tonight, I want to talk to him about it. We haven't sat down and just talked to each other like a couple for what feels like a long time, but I plan on breaking that streak tonight. I want him to talk to me and be honest about how he’s feeling, that’s all. I just hope he'll open himself up to me.
Hopefully.
Spencer arrives back at our apartment a little past seven, walking in and placing his bag down before sparing me a single glance as he heads to either the bathroom or our bedroom, but this time, I stop him. "Spence," I say his name, moving from the couch to walk toward him. "Can we talk? Like we used to do?"
Furrowing his eyebrows in a confused manner, he nods and sits where I was previously, making me sit in the spot beside him with my knees bent beside me as I turn to face him.
"What's wrong?" Spencer is the first to ask, his voice confused. A few seconds pass as I scratch the polish off my nails nervously, only to stop myself and shake my head at him.
"That's actually what I was going to ask you," I admit. "What's been going on lately? You're not spending time with me like we usually do, or you’re not inviting me to eat lunch with you like you usually do. That’s odd for you... what's wrong?"
At my question, Spencer averts his eyes away from mine as if he's afraid to look at me, almost as if he were shameful of something.
"You can tell me," I assure him, placing a hand on his clasped hands. "I won't judge you, babe," At the new warmth of my hand, Spencer loosens up a bit from his previously tense stature before releasing a sigh through his parted pink lips.
"If I tell you, you might be upset," He confesses.
Now it's my turn to furrow my eyebrows in confusion. What would I be upset about? I know Spencer hasn't cheated on me (or at least, I think so - that’s just not like him) and I know he hasn't done something drastic as he would be too guilt-ridden to keep it a secret from me, especially for this long. So... what could it be?
Releasing another sigh, Spencer leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes before admitting what's been making him upset. "It's Derek," He confesses.
"What about Derek?" I ask him, watching as he turns his head a little and opens his eyes. He stares directly at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down his anxiety. His stare isn't harsh or hateful. It's more... nervous or scared rather than one of anger or frustration.
"I'm just... jealous. I mean, I watch you two talk, and it's like you're in a whole other world, smiling and laughing while I'm over here, wondering ‘do I make you feel like that?’ Like carefree and… happy?" Spencer's words practically break my heart. "You are such an amazing woman and I-I feel like I don't deserve you. You deserve someone so much better than me that when I see you with Derek, I see someone who's better than me. I see someone who's more attractive than me, more athletic, more manly. I question sometimes why you even stay with me."
I take a few moments to take everything in that Spencer just said, and honestly, I would've never thought that he would ever think of himself so lowly.
Instead of saying something at first, I move to straddle Spencer's lap and hold him close to me while attaching my lips to his in a sweet and passion filled kiss. Instantly kissing me back, Spence places his hands on me in return, one on my lower back and one lightly holding my neck to deepen the kiss. With this kiss, I pour out any ounce of love and passion toward this man, but I know this alone is not enough, just like words alone aren't enough either. That's why I'm doing both.
Pulling away from Spencer's lips, I stare down at him with half-lidded eyes, seeing as he stares up at me with the uttermost love no other man could give me. Spencer's my one and only, and forever will he be that.
"Spence," I begin, just like I had before we started talking. "I love you - more than anything. You make me feel like I'm flying; like nothing is real because you have shown me that even the wildest dreams of finding true love come true," I tell him, tears starting to fill my eyes as a nervous giggle leaves my lips. "You may not be like Derek, but that's okay because I don't love Derek, I love you," I run my hands through his hair, keeping them on the sides of his head so he can't look away.
"I love you to no end. And so what if you don't have a jersey to hang up on the wall or stupid sports trophies? I've never cared about those types of things," He smiles a little, knowing I'm right. "But you do have three PhDs and two Bachelors hanging up! You just can't... you know, wear them like a jersey," we both laugh lightly at my joke, the smiles lingering on our faces even as I go on.
"I don't want to hear you say you don't deserve me, because you do, Spence. You deserve everything you want in life," I stress to him, "Plus, you are the most handsome guy; not to mention you are the smartest, funniest, most thoughtful boyfriend anyone could ask for," leaning in close, I kiss his forehead, letting my lips stay there as I say my last words. "And even though you think I may be in a whole different world talking to Derek, when I talk to you, I feel like I’m in a whole different universe where its just me and you, and that’s how I like it."
Leaning back, I see a soft smile on Spencer's face followed by tears gracing his eyes just like mine. "I love you, babe, so much," He confesses, giving my waist a squeeze as he stares up at me. "I don't know what else to say but that... and I don't know if I say it enough."
"You tell me it often," I remind him, giggling. At my laughter, he grins before standing and taking me with him, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs as he slowly lets me down onto my feet. However, once I'm standing in front of him, he quickly takes my hand in his before walking us over to the shoe closet.
"Where are we going?" I ask him, earning a simple, yet short answer as he drops my hand to dig through the closet.
"Out," The single word falls from Spencer's lips as if it were the most obvious thing. However, I can't help but furrow my brows at him in slight confusion.
"Don't you want me to go change into something nicer, Spence?" I ask, watching him shake his head at me before holding my coat out for me to slide my arms into.
"Nope," Once again with the one-word answers, however this time, he's pulling me back toward him with a bright smile, a deep contrast to the frown he wore earlier. "I am going to make it up to you for being an awful boyfriend to you over the past few weeks, and I’ll start by taking you out for dinner so we don’t have to worry about cooking or cleaning," He tells me as he rests his head on my shoulder from behind, but not before pressing a kiss to my cheek with his next words. "We can just focus on each other, and I won’t let anything come between us again."
Tags: talks of starting a family, descriptions of being in a hospital, injury via getting shot
Check out my masterlist!
Word Count: 1.9k~
He felt the bullet go through him, he even watched as blood began to seep from the wound in his shoulder. He saw his captain panick more than him, rushing to hold a rag to the wound all the while Simon remained lying down, already passing out from the blood loss. It hit something major, that he knew. He had been shot, stabbed, tortured with an immeasurable amount of things in the past, but this time, it felt different.
He could feel he was fading fast. Even as his teammates tried their hardest to plug the gushing hole in his shoulder, he still lied there, unresponsive. The only thing moving on him were his fluttering eyelids, the only thing keeping them open being the sound of his sergeant’s yells next to him. He couldn’t completely make out what Johnny was saying, but as his eyes fluttered shut, he was able to make out one final thing.
“Don’t do this to her, L-T!”
It’s dark whenever he is, that much Simon knows. He doesn’t even know if he’s awake or asleep, but he can’t deny the weird feeling flowing through him. As he tries to regain control of his limbs, he realizes why it’s so dark and pulls his hands away from his face. He doesn’t remember doing that.
Looking away from his hands, now void of his work gloves, he peers up to see the love of his life standing a few feet away from him, now being surrounded in bright white light unlike moments earlier. Now he knows he has to be asleep.
Adorned in a long, purple dress, she holds her arms out to him as he begins to walk closer to her in whatever dream-like place he resides. He can’t help but reach out for her as well, his eyes taking in every aspect of her face highlighted by the brightness surrounding them. He waits for her next move, ready to follow her wherever she goes, just like if he were home. He knows wherever he’s at isn’t home, but she’s there and that’s all that matters to him.
His eyes stay trained on her face as she guides him to sit down with her.
“Do you remember when we went to the pumpkin patch? And we brought home the weird, small ones we found?” She asks him, fiddling with the material of his pants as if she were nervous.
“Of course,” he tells her, “I told you I’d take you back there; I have, haven’t I?” He asks, but he only grows confused as he hears her next reply.
“It’s one of my favorite memories with you,” she murmurs, mindlessly. Her answer befuddles him. It’s almost as if she hadn’t even heard him, and he couldn’t figure out why.
“Plus all the times we’ve gone back since then. I can’t wait to go again and look at the new little pumpkins,” she admits, moving her hands to grip onto his arms tightly, but still remaining gentle. Despite her ignoring his words moments ago, he still chuckles at her actions, his eyes falling down to see her now tracing his tattoos as her words become muffled in his ears. Among the tattoos are her initials spread across his inner arm, surrounded by the rest of the work all the while still close to his heart.
“It’s to prevent any chance of enemies finding you,” he explained when he first got the addition, afraid she’d be upset with him for not getting a bigger piece for her. In all actuality, she was just in awe that he was willing to get something put on his body for her at all.
“I need you,” her voice brings him back to the present, making him look to her face now clouded in seriousness. “I need you to come back to me,” she further elaborates, moving a hand up to his face. He leans into her soft touch, watching as her dream-like eyes stay locked onto him in an unmoving stare as thoughts flow through his mind. He’s never seen her like this before; he’s always been the serious one in the relationship whereas she would be the one to try and break the ice or make him laugh when things got too tense. Now, it seems as if the tables have turned.
“I can’t leave you,” he murmurs to her, reaching a hand up to brush against her cheek. “I told you I’d never leave you,” Simon’s words seemingly make the woman bite her lip with a smile as she softly shakes her head.
Moving closer to him on her knees, she hovers above him with both of her hands now grasping the bare skin of his face, a luxury only she was awarded. “Come back to me, Simon,” she finally utters before leaning down to press her lips to his, his eyes shutting as she does so. As soon as Simon’s vision is clouded in darkness, a stark contrast to the blinding white scene surrounding him, he finds himself stuck in a floating sensation without the feeling of his lover’s touch on him anymore. Reaching out for her yields nothing, and trying to reopen his eyes is also a struggle, but after what feels like minutes, he finally succeeds in doing so.
Although now, the scene around him is no longer blank and empty, and instead, he now finds himself in a hospital room, weighed down on a bed by his own fatigue. Looking around, Simon tries to find anybody in there with him. He can feel an oxygen tube in his nose as well as various cables and chords sprawled throughout his body. The small stinging pain in his shoulder is a reminder as to why he’s here, and he can’t be more relieved that he didn’t die out there on the field. He promised his girl he’d return home to her, how could he break that?
Before he can dwell on the thought, a relieved, familiar face comes into his view, excitement quickly taking over her features as she nearly jumps up from the chair. “Oh my God, you’re awake!” Her happy words flow through his mind, her soothing voice comforting him at the same time. However, before her excitement can grow, a frown quickly takes over her face in a mix of worry and fear. “Simon, are you okay? Do you need anything?”
Just as she gets closer to check on him, he quickly takes the chance to grab her by the hip and tug her over to him. His actions effectively make her fall over onto the bed just like he wanted, but she’s quick enough to put her arms out to brace herself above his upper body. His name falls from her lips in a mix of shock and panic, surprised at his strength despite just waking up from a three-day long coma and the fact that he just used the arm he got shot in.
“I just need you,” Simon murmurs, his voice still groggy with sleep. His brown orbs stare up at her in a never ending gaze, just as he had earlier in the bright world he was stuck in.
She doesn’t notice this, and instead, she begins to move away from him to stand up, but he doesn’t allow her. “Si, I should really get a nurse to check you,” She tries to explain, but he doesn’t budge. “They need to come and look at your-”
“I saw you,” He cuts her off, effectively stopping her from trying to get out of his hold. Feeling her sit up and settle herself against his lap, Simon watches as she stares down at him in curiosity before continuing his previous statement.
“You were there with me, and I didn’t want to leave you,” he further admits, causing her to grow confused.
“What do you mean I was there, baby?” She asks, waiting for him to start laughing or something. He wasn’t making any sense - especially since she wasn’t there when he got injured as she only got to him after Price was able to tell her the hospital they had medevaced him to. Having a taxi rush you to the airport in the middle of the night to catch a redeye flight you got last minute wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world, but for Simon, it didn’t matter.
“You were with me,” He repeats himself, “You were talking and you… you brought up the pumpkin patch,” in response to his words, she lets out a seemingly surprised gasp as tears begin to fill her eyes. The dryness of his mouth was starting to bother him, but not as much as it did to feel her hands begin to wrestle each other.
“Why would you bring that up, love?” He asks her, worry filling his voice. He hadn’t seen her nerves get the best of her like this in a long time, what was going on?
One by one, the tears slowly begin to fall before she wipes them away with a small smile, acting quicker than Simon’s hands so he could stop moving his shoulder so much. Had it not been for the pain meds flowing through his system, he would’ve already sat up and told her to tell him whatever’s bothering her, but in this moment, he could only stare up at her, dazed and confused.
“Well, Si, I…” She starts, looking around the room as she struggles to just come out with it. “I-I’m pregnant, Simon,” She explains, watching his face for a reaction. It takes a few moments, but soon Simon’s brown eyes are widening with surprise, his mouth parting in astonishment. She’s never seen him so out of it, so she continues explaining. “I was saying earlier we’re going to have our own little pumpkin in a little over five months, I was trying get you to wake up… but I-I didn’t think you could hear me,”
Finally, Simon blinks, his eyes flickering between her face and stomach as a grin slowly makes its way to his face. “What? No way…” He draws on, seemingly stuck in a mixture of happiness and disbelief. He watches as she giggles at him and his words, her hands coming up to rest against his cheek.
Being one of the few allowed to see him without the balaclava, she took it off when she first got there to make sure he didn’t have any more injuries to add to the list, but she couldn’t find it in herself to put it back on. Seeing his face was another reminder that he was still here and alive.
“Yes, way,” She reiterates his previous sentiment, leaning down to nuzzle against his neck. There, she feels tears start to fill her eyes again as her next words rise to the surface. “You’re going to be a dad.”
His eyes now stuck on the ceiling, Simon’s eyebrows furrow with a loopy grin. “Me?” He can’t help but ask, turning his head toward her face. Seeing the tears in her eyes, Simon lets out a sharp breath. “Oh honey,” he murmurs, the rare endearment falling from his lips like a prayer. His hands then make their way to her belly that still has yet to grow, but that doesn’t deter Simon. As soon as the warmth seeping from her skin combines with his, he feels as if he’s able to breathe again, an even happier smile making its way onto her lips as he repeated her words from earlier.
Quick author’s note - I wrote this when I was maybe 14-15, and as much as I’d like to forget a lot of my earlier work, I reread this one and thought it was too cute to delete. I did try to edit it and remove mentions of “(Y/n)” because apparently using that has become cringe lately 😂 Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! ~Michelle
Word count: 3.5k~
When Chandler's sister came to New York for the holidays, Chandler made Joey promise two things:
1. Don't get together with my sister
And
2. Don't break the first promise.
To Joey, it seemed like the two weeks were going to be a breeze. In his mind, he thought he could hold himself back anytime he wanted. He also remembered she was Chandler's sister - how beautiful could she possibly be when she's related to him?
However, when Joey went with Chandler to the airport to pick that very sister up, Joey felt himself becoming screwed with every passing second. Just at the first glance of her, he felt his heart beating faster and his palms growing sweaty. She was beyond beautiful - she was breathtaking. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and that alone surprised him.
Never once did he think he’d like Chandler’s sister.
His feelings only grew when he got to become closer to her through conversations and jabs she threw at Chandler. She was lovely, but anytime he tried to use his charm on her, he felt as if she deserved more. She deserved more than just a sly smile and flirty comment, and to Joey, she was worth the extra effort.
Although, it seemed as if every extra ounce of effort he put in was ruined by Chandler. Instead of focusing on her eyes or hair, Joey would compliment how kind she was toward the people around her because of every time she offered to help Monica with cooking or Rachel with her menial problems. Just as he would finish saying it, Chandler would say something sarcastic after it and totally diminish the mood Joey had been trying to set. However, there was one time that she had leaned into kiss Joey's cheek, but once again, Chandler practically kicked that chance away by kicking the stool from underneath (Y/n) and causing her to fall back and hit the floor. This may have given Joey the chance to get close and make sure she was okay, but still, they were about to kiss.
When thinking about Chandler and how he had treated his sister over the past week she had been there, Joey found himself becoming a little upset. Just as he had complimented her, Joey saw her as nothing but an understanding and caring person. Sure, the occasional sarcastic comment slipped her lips from time to time, but she was still an amazing woman.
He noticed Chandler's comments were more hurtful, more cruel - constantly pointing out something about her that would make her frown and seclude herself from the environment around her. Kicking the stool from underneath her wasn't the only thing he did to her that made her fall as he also made her slip on the winter ice outside. When Joey expressed his concerns to Phoebe, she told him to pass it off as a sibling simply picking on the other sibling. Even so, Joey still didn't understand it. He had seven sisters, and even he had never treated them the same way Chandler treated her.
"You need to slow down!" Joey chided from the small dining table as the woman he pined after ran around him, helping Monica gather everything for the variations of mashed potatoes she had to make for the guys.
Seeing her jog around him, listening intently to every demanding thing leave Monica's mouth was funny to Joey. He wanted nothing more to just wrap his arms around her and pull her close so she could put off being so overly-energetic for five minutes and he could just hold her.
Smiling, she took the bowl of carrots, onions, and peas into her arm before ruffling Joey's hair as she passed him for the hundredth time that day. "Gotta keep moving, Joey," She told him as she placed the bowl beside Monica's cutting board, earning a 'thank you' from the other working woman. Joey watched her with a smile as she turned toward him to stare back, smiling as well with a now pink blush raiding her cheeks. Joey couldn't believe how cute she looked in that moment with half of her hair falling over her eyes and flour covering most of her clothing.
However, Chandler's voice from the chair beside him made Joey's smile disappear. "Yeah, besides, she's used to running around HA-HA," Chandler meanly joked, making Joey look over at him with an almost agitated look. Meanwhile, her smile dropped as well, making her turn back around and continue helping a now slightly annoyed Monica. She clearly didn't like Chandler's comment either.
"Chandler," Joey said only his name, however, Chandler could sense disappointment in his friend's voice.
"What?" The always sarcastic man replied, sounding genuinely confused. "That was funny!" Not only was Chandler nonstop with his jokes, but he was also clueless when it came to overstepping a line. He was also seeming to overstep every line with every joke he said to his sister, and Joey was once again confused.
"It really wasn't, Chandler," she spoke up, hurt sounding throughout her voice. Everyone in Monica's apartment picked this tone of voice change - all except the one who caused it.
"Yes, it was!" Chandler quickly argued back, not realizing why all of his friends weren't defending him on his "obvious" joke. "It's the holiday season! Be cheerful, be happy! La-la-la!"
Despite the words being cheerful, Chandler's comments were sarcastic as per usual. "For once, Chandler, can you at least pretend to be happy that it's Christmas?" his sister asked, a frown marking her face as she turned to face her older brother.
"Nope, sorry," Chandler instantly responded, earning yet another annoyed look from Joey, however this time, Rachel scoffed with him. "I haven't since mom and dad did that thing adults do when they're tired of each other after almost twenty years of marriage."
Following Rachel, she found herself scoffing too, almost offended that Chandler used their parent's divorce as an excuse for his poor attitude toward the holiday. Not to mention he also treated her with a hint of malice at the same time. "You need to let that go," she found herself telling Chandler, her words soft and genuine. "You are in your twenties and you still can't get over the fact that stuff happens when you're a kid - nobody's childhood is perfect."
Despite her words being true, Chandler barely paid any attention to them. "No, but mom tried awfully hard to make yours perfect if I do recall correctly," he argued, resting his head against his perched arm as he stared across the room. He wanted to have this conversation, but at the same time, he felt that if he were to pretend that he seemed uninterested, he would seem emotionless. It was working.
"You act as if I wasn't affected by mom and dad getting divorced!" his sister threw back at him, becoming more confused rather than angry as the seconds passed.
Finally, Chandler's eyes moved from Monica's shelf of cookbooks and over to his sister. "Well," He started, pausing to nod his head at her in a questioning manner. "Were you?"
In response, she scoffed once again with utter disbelief. "Of course! I was six-years-old!" She quickly defended herself, the rest of the gang now watching instead of just listening. Chandler was hurting his sister with his words, and he still didn't realize it. "I'd like to think that you and I both suffered through our parents' separation, but it seems as if you believe you went through everything alone."
"I kind of did since you were always prioritized," Chandler spouted, "Mom loved you more than me - you know that."
"Is that right?" she questioned him, an audible, but sarcastic laugh falling from her lips. "So, that's why I was constantly fought over when it came to custody, because, if mom got me, that would be an extra six hundred a month for her?" She further added, everyone's eyes now stuck on her with sympathy. Joey found himself to be the one most affected by her words; he would even go as far to say that his heart hurt for her.
"I was nothing but a leverage point for mom; YOU were chosen first while I was just an afterthought. You know how hard that was for me as a six year old? To realize my mommy saw me as nothing but a source of money?"
With her words hitting hard, a moment of silence passed without anyone speaking up before Chandler eventually did; however, his demeanor and his words hadn't changed. "Why did you come up here?" He questioned his sister, gaining another estranged look in response. "Were you wanting to get more Christmas presents this year like you used to get from Grandma each year?" He added, making her let out an almost hurt cry as she dropped her arms to her sides.
"I came up on my own expense because maybe, for once, I didn't want to spend Christmas alone!" She shouted, letting her anger show through. "Maybe I wanted to see the brother I haven't seen for nearly five years, Chandler!"
"Get a cat - you won't be alone then!" Chandler threw back, his sarcasm pouring through his lips like a waterfall. It wasn't Chandler's goal to make the ones he loved hurt, but after so many years of feeling anger toward his sister for something that turned out to be a misunderstanding, he didn't know what to do or say. So, he did the one thing he did best - joke around and be sarcastic. However, as the next sentence fell from his lips, he knew she would never forgive him. "Besides, at least they'd want you over for Christmas."
Just as everyone shouted at Chandler in shock and anger, his sister didn't waste anytime in rushing out of Monica's apartment and into the hall. Before Chandler could stand up and follow her with endless apologies, Joey pushed him back down into his chair and took off after the girl. The last person she wanted to see was the man that had just hurt her feelings inside, but when she heard Joey calling after her, she felt herself stopping on the very last step and turning toward him.
"Please don't run outside!" Joey yelled, trotting down the steps as fast as he could. "It's too cold, and you didn't grab a jacket!" He added, stopping beside her to look closer at her. He could tell she was holding herself back from crying, and unlike the time he was sitting at the table, he didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms and hold her as close as he could.
Without a second of doubt, she accepted his embrace and hugged him back, pushing her head into his chest at the same time. "Don't listen to your brother," Joey told her, murmuring her name softly before she could say anything. "What Chandler is saying is not even close to the truth. To be honest, we all love you being here," He reassured her, trying his hardest to not reveal his feelings for the beautiful woman currently in his arms.
Although he did this, Joey found it harder to do so as she began huddling farther into his hold. Watching her let out a shuffled breath, Joey couldn't tell if it was from the cold or her emotional state, but what Joey did know was that he wanted to help her in any way he could.
"I'm just so... cold," she admitted, her eyes scrunched together as the tears slowly stopped. Being in Joey's arms was both a good thing and a bad thing for the woman. Yes, Joey was helping her calm down and relax, but at the same time, her heart was pumping a thousand beats per minute. Both she and Joey felt special things for each other, and to be so close and intimate was almost too much for them, but they wouldn't have changed it.
"I'll keep you warm," Joey whispered, before moving to walk back up the stairs with her following, his arm still wrapped around her waist. Stopping at Monica's door, Joey reached his hand out to the golden knob, only to feel a set of cold hands place themselves on his face and pull him down to an equally cold pair of lips.
There was no doubt that Joey knew what was happening, but that still didn't ignore the fact that he was surprised by her sudden and rash decision. For the entire duration of her stay, Joey had found himself fantasizing about what her lips on his would feel like, and now that Joey experiencing just that, he realized his dreams were nothing compared to the real deal.
Pulling her close to him with his hands on her waist, Joey continued kissing the sweet woman before pulling away moments later and holding her head to his chest with one of his hands from her waist. "I'm sorry that Chandler said those things," he apologized, gently carding his fingers through her hair. "He's a jerk - he's my friend, but he can be an absolute ass sometimes. You didn't deserve any of that."
Waving her hand in the air, the woman in his arms shook her head with a sigh. "It's okay, Joey," she assured him, looking up at him with those very soft eyes that Joey had fallen for. "I know how Chandler is, and how he can be. It's okay."
"But it's not," Joey tried arguing with her, keeping his voice gentle and calm. "You aren't a burden to any of us, and we're all really enjoying your company here," with a small, nervous smile, Joey turned his eyes toward her as she stared back, waiting for him to say something. "Especially me."
With that, she didn't hesitate bringing Joey's lips back onto hers, and in return, Joey didn't falter in reciprocating the sweet actions she was currently doing to his lips. Among all of the kisses Joey had experienced in his lifetime, this one had to be the best. This wasn't a kiss that Joey had slyly flirted his way into - this was a kiss that had been paused for what felt like forever. Now that it was actually happening, neither of them wanted it to end.
Although, the urge to breathe finally broke them apart, and thankfully, they were apart long enough to make it seem less suspicious when Phoebe opened the door to Monica's apartment in an attempt to find out where the two went. "Oh!" Phoebe exclaimed, placing a hand to her heart as a smile took over her lips. "I wasn't expecting you guys to be here," She explained, "I thought you guys would be, uh," Phoebe paused nervously, making the two stare back at her with confusion. "Anyways, come back in!"
Phoebe's weird attitude bewildered both of them, but nonetheless, they returned inside of Monica's warm apartment and resumed their previous positions with helping Monica with her cooking and Joey sitting beside Chandler; however, neither of them could stop smiling about their previous activities.
Hearing her name said by Chandler causes her to break away from the vegetables in front of her and look over at two men sitting on the couch, Joey staring intently at Chandler as he seemingly waits for him to continue speaking. "I just want to say..." Chandler started, causing everyone to stare at him once again with anticipation for his next words - especially his own sister. "I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have said anything that I said," He further apologized, making everyone lightly 'awe' at Chandler's newfound vulnerability. "And we all are happy that you're here for Christmas, and I don't actually believe..."
All of a sudden, Chandler's words slowed, and instead of appearing sincere, his face turned more into a expression of confusion before ultimately changing into realization. "Oh. My. God." Chandler murmured, sitting up straight in his chair as his wide eyes glanced between Joey and his sister. Once again, the two lovebirds were both bewildered just as they were with Phoebe moments before.
"What's wrong, Chandler?" Rachel asked, moving from the couch to stand between Joey and Chandler at the table. In all honesty, she was getting ready to get up and steal some food from Monica, but when Rachel heard Chandler say what he said, she knew something was about to be revealed. "Chandler?"
"I know that look!" Chandler shouted, shocking everyone in the apartment. "That look!" He once again shouted, jumping up from his chair and onto his feet as he began pointing his index finger between his sister and his best friend. "You! You two! You made out!"
Immediately, the two's eyes widened while small gasps were heard throughout the room. Although, before anyone could ask anything, Phoebe and Rachel quickly ran to the girl before hugging her with happy squeals leaving their lips. Meanwhile, Ross had gotten up from his seat as well before congratulating Joey with a clap on the back and a grin. Once again, Chandler was the odd one out.
"Seriously?" Chandler couldn't help but ask, only receiving a bashful smile from his sister and a not-so-well-hidden smirk from Joey. "You couldn't have held yourself back from one girl? From my sister?"
With that, Joey stood up and moved to rewrap his arm around the woman's waist once again, the girls previously surrounding her now backing away with excited smiles on their lips. They were all waiting for the moment that Joey would confess his feelings for her since he was obviously harboring some for the short amount of time she had been with them in New York, and now that the very sight was laid out before their eyes, they couldn't help but love it.
"You've always told me that there's going to be one day where a girl who's different from the rest would step into my life and change everything," Joey reminded Chandler, causing the woman to turn her head up to Joey and stare at him with genuine curiosity in her eyes. "I never expected it to be your sister, but when I saw her for the first time... I knew she had to be the one you always told me about."
In response to Joey's words, Chandler grew quiet for the first time in his life. Joey was right - Chandler was always telling him that he would find 'the one' like he had found Monica. However, just like Joey, he would've never expected it to be his own sister. Despite this, Chandler knew that Joey wasn't lying or bluffing; he was being genuine and honest. Perhaps Joey truly felt that way, and as Chandler thought about the possibility, he found himself accepting of their newfound relationship. In fact, there was nothing he wanted more than to see two of the closest people in his life be happy with each other, even if they hadn’t exactly gotten along lately.
"You really feel that way?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. In return, Joey peered down at her with a smile that matched her voice - soft and gentle.
"Of course," He answered her, matter-of-factly. "How could I not? Especially when you're so... well, perfect in my eyes."
With those words, she couldn't help but push her smiling face into Joey's chest as she loosely held onto his shirt with her fists. She couldn't believe he was saying these things - not just because he was saying this stuff in front of her brother, but because everyone around them acted as if Joey had never said these things to anyone else and actually meant them at the same time. In fact, there were a lot of things occurring that happened to be firsts for both her and Joey. One of these things for the two was watching as Chandler fought with himself in trying to figure out what he wanted to say.
"You, uh... Why..." Chandler stuttered, only to stop himself and pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers with an almost frustrated sigh. Finally, after a few moments, Chandler pulled his hand away from his face with a shake of his head and widened eyes. "You promised me that you wouldn't go for my sister."
Despite the seriousness in Chandler's tone, everyone gently laughed before his sister spoke up once more. "It's okay, Chandler," she assures him, smiling at her older brother. "And besides, since Joey's being honest, I may as well be too," she started, letting out a slightly nervous sigh afterward. "I didn't come to see you this Christmas just because it was a last minute decision," she explains, "I came here so I could tell you that I was offered a higher job opportunity right here in New York City - and I took it."
In the rounds of congratulations that followed her revelation, Chandler was yet again the odd one out. "Wait, so you're going to be moving here?" Chandler clarified, watching as she simply nodded in response. "And then you'll be around Joey? Anytime you want?"
Joey felt himself holding his breath, eagerly awaiting her answer. He could feel himself growing excited with every second passing, the possibility of the two growing closer faster than he expected. He hadn’t exactly worked out how they would work out together, but he would do anything to make it happen. Now, he doesn’t have to worry about bus tickets or plane rides - if he’s lucky enough, she’ll just be down the street or hopefully down the hall.
"Well, yeah, I guess so," she replied, a small laugh falling from her lips as she catches Joey’s hopeful stare directed straight at her. Despite this, Chandler could do only one thing as he realized he would be seeing a lot more from his best friend and sister: groan.
Trigger warnings: slightly NSFW, pregnancy, reader is female.
Word Count: 1.8k~
Routines were something John lived off in the army. They were necessary in running his Taskforce, and they were essential in surviving while out on the field. Now that he was settling into the retirement life and thoroughly enjoying it, he didn’t depend on those routines as often, and I couldn’t be more thankful. Sure, we stuck to routines when necessary, but on days like these when we start out late and end the day late as well, I find myself just taking a moment to enjoy it all. Even now while I finish up dishes as John naps on the couch (something I made him do), I find myself thinking about everything.
Today marks the third month that John has been retired from field duty, with him now only going into work half of the week to do office work. It’s taken him some time to adjust to his new more relaxing life, but I think he’s adjusted quite nicely. He’s realized that he can do more things he enjoys with the new spare time granted to him, allowing him to finish fixing things in the house as well as start a small garden in the backyard. Even now as I turn the corner to look out at him while drying my hands, I find myself growing warm at the sight of the snoring man passed out on the couch, lanky limbs sprawled all around him like a starfish.
Slight snores fall from his lips as his arm hangs off the side, the other draped across his chest that rises and falls with every peaceful breath he takes. Meanwhile, his legs are propped up on the arm of the couch with his feet hanging off the edge. Despite being in what looks like a sort-of uncomfortable position, he looks so relaxed lying there. I can only assume it’s because he feels truly at home now as I would imagine no man in his position could sleep this soundly on the field. Regardless, I’m just happy he’s home and he’s home for good.
A sharp inhale through his nose startles me from my thoughts, and I watch the arm almost touching the floor rise up to run down his face, fixing his beard in the process. “Love, if you’re done with the dishes, why don’t you join me,” his deep voice fills the room, the suggestion groggy with sleep. Following his words, he turns his head and opens his eyes to stare directly at me, explaining why he didn’t yell out to me as if I were still in the kitchen.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask but he only smiles at me in response.
Shaking my head with a small laugh, I walk toward him before ultimately being grabbed and dragged down on top of him, the dish towel in my hands falling to the ground without a care in the world. Situating myself on top of him, I rest my legs on either side of his torso as he quickly takes the opportunity to adjust me for his comfort as well. However, going by the slight roll of his hips, I think it’s for more than just his comfort.
“Did you sleep at all?” I can’t help but ask him, bracing my hands on his chest as he continues his movements. In the small amount of light coming from a table lamp across the room, I see John gently bite his lip before smiling.
“Not really, love,” he answers, pushing his hips up a little harder. Him doing this causes his clothed erection to poke at my center, causing a small gasp to leave my lips. My reaction only spurs him on more, his lips turning into a smirk as his hands move to guide my hips better against him. “Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you.”
My cheeks turn pink at the hidden meaning behind his words, his actions further showing his intentions. “Oh yeah?” I ask teasingly, grinding myself against him. “Why me?” I can’t help but ask, placing my hands on his stiff chest at the same time. Following him in his actions earns me an appreciative hum, our smiles only growing.
“I want to make you a mum.”
My actions stop as I hear his confession, fully comprehending his words. Staring down at him with wide eyes, I watch his face, waiting for something to change, but no. His smile remains even in the silence, and his hands haven’t stopped in their motions either. “Y-you do?” I ask him, my nervousness slowly growing. “You really want to have a baby with me?”
John almost laughs at my question. “Love, when I made you Misses Price, I wanted to do everything with you,” he reminds me, sliding one hand up from my waist and to the back of my neck. I smile at not only his words, but the feeling of him combing his fingers through my hair. “Becoming parents is something I’ve always dreamed about doing with you, and only you,” John says this matter-of-factly, the hand on the back of my neck guiding me down to kiss him. For a while, the kiss is soft and sweet until John pushes me even closer to him, his lips moving from my mouth and down to my neck. Feeling his teeth nip at the area, I let out a small gasp before biting my lips to hold back my moans, John smirking against my skin as he asks one more question. “Don’t you want that as well, darling?”
Despite the night ending on a great note, the next morning starts on a bad one with me rushing to the toilet as soon as I wake up. Everything in my stomach pours out of me like no tomorrow, but thankfully, John is right there to hold my hair back for me. Always quick on his feet, he even has a wet washcloth ready for me after I sit back on the floor from hunching over, quickly resting the cold rag against my forehead as he leans me against him. “What’d you eat last night, love?” He asks but I only shake my head at him. “Do you think it was dinner?”
“No, you’re not throwing up, so it couldn’t have been dinner,” I point out, resting my head against his leg as I try to ignore the burning sensation in my throat from the stomach acid.
“Could you be sick?” He asks, pulling the wet rag away from my forehead to check my temperature. At the same time, his words make me remember something. Something I haven’t gotten in a while.
Breaking away from his hold, I lean toward the cabinet and open it, taking out one of the pregnancy tests I keep for moments like these. Seeing the box in my hands, John lets out an almost nervous chuckle. “Darling, I don’t think my swimmers worked that fast,” He tries to make me laugh, but I can only turn to him while I panic a little as I try to tell him what’s on my mind.
“I’m… I’m late, John,” I explain, "I think I was supposed to get it maybe a month ago."
My nervous confession causes realization to dawn on his face, his eyes wide in surprise. “Shit, you are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “You haven’t gotten it in a while,” Looking away for a few seconds, he seemingly ponders a few things before looking back at me with a small, ever-growing smile. “Take the test, love.”
Seeing the smile come back to his face makes the tension in my body practically disappear and I find myself sitting down on the toilet to take the test. John stays by me the whole time, his eyes watching my hands intently as I put the cap back on the test and move it onto the counter. I would inform John it’ll take a few minutes for the results to show up, but he’s already pressing the timer button on his watch without me having to say anything. He’s as eager for the results as I am in this moment.
After wiping and moving to sit on the lid of the toilet, I hang my head toward my clasped hands resting between my knees as thoughts race through my brain. “Do you really think I could be pregnant?” I break the silence with the top question on my mind, sitting up a little to see John’s eyes darting to mine as I do so. “I know you just got back from deployment and you’ve only been off of field duty for a few months, and we only just talked about this last night, but-“
John saying my name cuts me off from my rambling, moving forward on his knees to take my hands in his. My name falling from his lips ultimately breaks me away from my frantic thoughts, his voice serious like the times he has to be stern with his men, something I’ve only heard a couple of times. “You don’t need to worry, so please don’t, darling. If that test comes back positive, I’ll be so happy you won’t know what to do with my arse,” John’s comment makes us both laugh, his eyes staying locked on mine the whole time. “Sure, the timing is also one hell of a coincidence, but I still couldn’t be happier, love.”
Smiling at each other, it feels as if time passes us in a haze and the only thing we can focus on is each other. It’s only when John’s watch starts to beep that we break away from our stare, both of us reaching for the test with John’s hand winning, our other hands still clasped together on my lap. Keeping the side with the result facing the floor, John looks to me for permission. “Are you ready?” He asks, immediately receiving a nod back from me. He waits a second before flipping it over, two bright red lines being present as soon he does so. The indicator line isn’t faint or light in the slightest bit, it’s truly there.
“Huh,” I can’t help but say aloud, tears slowly arising to my eyes as an excited smile takes over my lips. Before I can look at John to see his face, I feel his body collide with mine in one of the strongest hugs I’ve ever felt from him, my head pushed above his shoulder as he presses his face into my neck. The way his arms wrap themselves around my waist tightly is reminiscent of the times he’s come home from deployment, holding me with the same strength as if he were scared to let me go.
“You’re going to be a mum,” he tells me, but I can only giggle in response. “And you’re making me a dad,” he adds, a small sniffle coming from him as well. Leaning back with a grin, John wipes away my fallen tears with one of the happiest faces I’ve ever seen on him. I wish I could take a picture.
“You couldn’t have given me a better gift,” he confesses, pressing a small kiss to my lips. “Thank you, darling, thank you.”
Ten years is a long time to wait for someone, and quite frankly, after spending these last ten years waiting for my best friend’s touches and words to turn into something else, I feel stupid. When he says certain things that make me feel like he wants me as more than a friend, I get excited, anticipating a possible breakthrough in our friendship. Then, when he talks about meeting a new girl, I’m left to realize that our friendship will be just that for the inevitable future. Still, I don’t want to lose Buck or the close bond we’ve developed over the years, so I just have to put my feelings aside.
Tonight is one of our nights to hang out, and usually, he’ll text me and head straight over after work. This time, however, he won’t answer my texts on what he wants me to cook for tonight, and it’s been a few hours since the time he normally gets off. With how serious his job is, I call Hen to make sure Buck is okay, to which she happily tells me yes before explaining he got off a few hours earlier and was rushing to leave. I was a little confused at first, but when she added that he had a date planned, I felt all those worries and concern just drift away. Despite feeling my heart practically break in pieces, I thanked Hen and wished her a goodnight before hanging up. Buck’s been my best friend since middle school; if he didn’t want to hang out tonight, all he had to do was text me and let me know he wasn’t going to make it. He didn’t have to ignore me or blow me off.
Around seven thirty, I hear the lock in my front door turn from the living room, causing me to close my eyes as I internally regret my choice in giving Buck a key. Initially, the key was for emergencies, but as time went on, he would let himself in whenever. I’ve never had a problem with it until now when I’m upset at him.
Standing up from the couch, I turn and watch as Buck comes in with to-go boxes in his hands, his work uniform gone and now replaced with a nice outfit. It looks like he’s been on a date, and even though I have no right to feel jealous about whoever he’s been with, I still feel that pit beginning to grow in my stomach as well as that familiar ache in my chest.
I can’t let him see me like this.
As quietly as I can, I maneuver my way off the couch and over to my bedroom, but before I can reach my room, Buck sees me. “(Y/n)?” He says my name, confusion filling his voice as I continue ignoring him despite him beginning to walk in my direction. “Where are you going?”
I don’t answer his question right away with words, and instead, I answer it by throwing myself into the guest bathroom with the door slamming after me. My hands fumble with the lock much to my frustration, but I still manage to fully turn it before Buck tries twisting at the knob, a couple knocks following. I then hear him call out my name, worry now filling his voice as tries the handle once more. “What’s wrong? Did I do something to make you mad?” He asks, sighing afterward. “Please, talk to me or open the door, something please. I don’t know what I did o-or could’ve done.”
His pitiful tone practically breaks my heart, my throat making an audible gulp as I try and swallow down my feelings so that I can speak without giving away the hurt that I currently feel. However, I can’t do anything to change the appearance of my eyes, red with tears threatening to spill over and run down my cheeks.
Throwing the door open, I’m greeted by an upset looking Buck, his face panicked and eyes wide. His gaze stays locked onto mine, eagerly waiting for me to speak up. I try my hardest to remain strong against his unyielding stare, blinking tears away until those very tears begin running down my cheeks. He tries to reach up and brush them away as if it were any other time, but I stop him. Much to his surprise, I yank my hands up to my face and wipe them away myself, Buck’s mouth opening just a sliver at my harshness.
“Why are you here, Buck?” I finally ask him, crossing my arms against my chest as I try to look down at the floor. My eyes betray me while doing so as I take in Buck’s apparel once more, a snarky comment quickly falling from my lips before I can stop it. “You’re dressed up nice,” I point out, “why aren’t you out with a girl right now?”
Surprisingly, I watch as Buck quickly grows confused, his eyebrows furrowing as he tilts his head at me. “I’m here because I want to be here with you,” he answers as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “what’s the matter, baby?”
As if my heart couldn’t break any more, that same miserable tone from earlier resumes once more all the while he calls me the very thing he should not be calling me right now.
“Don’t call me baby if it doesn’t mean anything,” I all but whine at him.
“But I’ve always called you baby,” Buck argues, “and it’s always meant something,” he murmurs to me, making throw my hands back down to my sides as my face takes on another expression of what probably looks like utter madness.
“What?!” I nearly screech, “Buck, how could it mean something when you have dated and hooked up with other girls? H-how could you do that and still call me that WITH some type of meaning?” I can’t help but ask him. I watch his face for any change, any new expression, but nothing happens, and for a moment, I debate shutting the door back in his face.
“Because I love you and I’m an idiot and I never thought you’d love an idiot back,” He says it so fast, it’s almost like it’s one syllable. His words make me pause in grabbing the door, and he can tell as he moves his foot to block it just in case I change my mind.
“It’s the truth,” He reassures, “All throughout high school - hell, even middle school, I had a crush on you. But I was stupid, and I knew you wouldn’t want me,” At that, I find myself going to dispute that, but he doesn’t let me.
“I thought the same thing as we got older, but now? I’m not that scared kid anymore, I-I’m done wasting time with people who don’t matter,” Taking a step closer to me, he moves to gently take my hands into his, and this time, I let him. “I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to face up to the fact that I love you, and I don’t want to lose you, I never want to see you go,” At his confession, I feel myself grow a little emotional. I never expected those words to leave his lips, nor did I ever expect the next ones.
“I just want you,” He murmurs, “I’ve always wanted you.”
In a mix of disbelief and shock, I shake my head before leaning up as high as I can and slamming my lips onto his. His eyes shoot open for a few short seconds until falling shut along with mine as he realizes what’s going on, causing him to quickly kiss me back with a passion I’ve never felt from anyone else. At the same time, his hands have a mind of their own as they begin grasping at my waist to pull me even closer to his body. Buck has held me many times before, but every other time he’s touched me, I often wondered if he was holding himself back. Now, I know I was onto something, and it seems now as if there’s nothing stopping him from getting what he wants.
Pulling away for a breath of air, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head against his chest, small pants leaving my lips. ”You are an idiot,” I can’t help but say with a shake of my head, “but… you’re my idiot,” I add, looking up at his face to find a smile mirroring my own. With his confession circling in my head over and over again, I feel my eyes begin to water, causing me to shake my head with a silent chuckle. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long.”
His smile then turns into a smirk at my words, the grip on my waist tightening as he leans his face down to mine once more. “then why are you interrupting?” He cockily shoots back, causing me to straighten my head as I stare back at him, my own form of cheekiness forming.
His smirk is immeasurable, but I quickly wipe it off his face by resuming our kiss. As our kiss grows more passionate, Buck’s hold on me only tightens before he moves to pick me up, practically tossing me up into the air as if I weighed nothing and holding my legs on each side of him. In a few short seconds, Buck has me pressed up against the hallway wall with his body holding me there. He always jokes about getting his exercise in while at his job with all of the heavy lifting he has to do, but now that he’s holding me like this, I realize he wasn’t joking.
Surprised at his suddenness, I hold onto him tighter than before with my thighs clenched securely around his waist and arms locked around his neck. I feel Buck smile in the kiss as I do this, only for him to pull away a few short seconds later. Upon opening my eyes, I see Buck staring up at me with a blissful gaze and swollen lips, small pants leaving them just as they do mine. “I have waited to do that for far too long,” he murmurs, taking a hand away from my leg to reach up and brush my hair away from my face. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.”
Now it’s my turn to smirk, my head shaking as I feel him place his hand back on my leg, sliding further under this time to rest on my ass. “Oh, Buck,” I murmur, leaning close as I slide my hands to his face. He looks up at me with eyes full of anticipation, eagerly waiting for the next words to leave my lips but all I can do is shake my head. “You really are such an idiot.”
He smiles. “I know,” he practically spits out before moving his lips to my neck. I get to enjoy the new sensation for only a few moments before he pulls back to face me once more. “Guess I gotta make up for all that time I wasted being an idiot, huh?”
I stare at the handsome man I’ve fallen in love with, watching as he stares back at me with an almost dazed look on his face before I find myself laughing at his comment. “Yes, you do,” I manage to get out, looking back to see him still looking at me with a sense of awe. Biting my lip, I slide a hand up from his face and through his golden blonde locks all the while he closes his eyes at my touch. “Have any idea how you might do that?”
The corner of his lips upturns into a smirk at our little game, a small, cocky nod following. “I’ve got a few ideas,” He teases, his eyes now staring back at me with blown pupils and a new sense of lust. The sight makes me anticipate what’s to come next, but his next words entice me even more. “Why don’t we get started?”
Trigger warnings: mentions of period pain, Aemond being a prick (but understandably so)
Something stirs me from my sleep, but what it is, I have no idea. Opening my eyes, I see the fire in front of us has long been out with only a few candles remaining lit around the room. The night sky shining through the glass behind us is pitch black as well, telling me it is still late into the evening.
It’s only when I roll over to check on Aemond that I see his tense, pained figure, his face taking on a similar expression as he lies stiffly on his back. The small amount of light in the room reveals his scrunched forehead and equally furrowed brows, his discomfort ever present in his face. Sometimes, Aemond has days where the area around his missing eye bothers him badly, yielding him seemingly never-ending agony and keeping him away from his passions like reading or practicing his combat in the training yard.
“It is the worst pain I have ever experienced, my love,” I can remember him telling me one morning when I found him with the maesters. They were applying a beige cream around the area, trying their hardest to ease the prince’s pain but by his clenched fists and bitten lips, it was to no avail.
“It is as if a dagger is slicing through my flesh, like the incident is happening all over again,” he told me after they had left. Choosing not to end the maesters lives, Aemond settled his hands on my hips and gently massaged the skin there instead as he pondered his next words, his face cast with an emotion I still can’t discern to this day. “To be honest, my love, I don’t know which is worse.”
Sitting up in bed, I lean over and hold a hand to his cheek to see if he’s overly warm, gaining a surprised gasp from Aemond in response. “It's just me,” I quickly reassure him, seeing him slowly relax as he looks over at me with a wide eye. He doesn’t seem feverish, so my only guess is he’s suffering from a reoccurrence of his phantom pain like before. “Is it hurting you, love?"
He slowly nods at my question, moving to sit up alongside me with a frustrated groan. "Is it not obvious enough?" He rasps at me, his piercing gaze pinning me where I sit. “it feels as if it's on fire. You should know, this is hardly the first time this has happened.”
I nod, my stomach turning as I recognize his tone of frustration. “I am sorry, my love,” I apologize, my voice growing quiet as I turn my own gaze away from his. “what can I do to help you?”
A few moments pass after my question before Aemond lets out another sigh, this time sounding more defeated than anything. Without another word, he sinks back down into bed a little before pressing his face into my arm, his pained face now out of sight.
“Help me,” He murmurs, shutting his eye as he nuzzles against my skin. “I don’t… I don’t know how, but please.”
Turning toward him more, I gather him into my arms and pull him close to me, his body quickly crawling close to mine as he realizes what I'm doing. He soon settles his legs in between mine, immediately pressing the aching side of his face into my chest as he breathes in deeply. The warmth from my skin has helped him before when the maesters weren't available, and I certainly don't mind doing it now. I’d do anything to help ease his pain.
As the seconds pass by, it feels as if Aemond melts into me more and more, sinking deeper into the heat I’m currently providing him as his arms wrap tighter around me. “Gods, you’re so warm,” he murmurs, his lips grazing against the skin of my breast as he speaks. Goosebumps rise against my bare flesh as he does this, but I ignore them and choose to turn my attention elsewhere.
Smiling at his comment, I lift my hands up and begin brushing his beautiful hair away from his face and over his shoulder. “You're allowed to do this whenever you'd like, my love,” I tell him, “We are husband and wife, after all.”
“Yes, we are indeed,” Aemond lets out a hum of contentment at my comment before pressing his lips still against my skin once more, making me shiver in his hold. “I will abuse this privilege, I can assure you,” he murmurs with a smirk.
I can't help but laugh a little, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “As you shall,” I murmur, settling further into the pillows and furs with a relieved sigh.
I hear Aemond let out a quiet huff of a laugh as he tries to settle against me more, soon closing his eye and letting the beating of my heart consume him. With a smile, I shut my own eyes after him and lay my head back against the pillows.
I can only hope the ache in his eye is starting to subside, and hopefully my warmth serves as a good substitute for the warm rags he usually uses to soothe the pain. I don’t want him to snap at me again as he’s not the nicest like this, but at the same time, I also know what it’s like to be sick or in pain so I understand.
“Your heart is beating very fast right now,” He points out, making my eyes shoot open in slight panic. “What’s the matter, my love?”
Choosing not to bring up his sour mood from earlier, I simply smile and shake my head at him. “I'm very happy holding you,” I tell him, choosing to hide the real reason all the while still telling the truth.
Aemond seemingly waits a few moments before letting out a small hum, the same hum I hear fall from his lips when he knows someone is lying. Soon afterward, I feel him push himself up in bed to look down at me, our noses mere inches from each other while his hair falls around us like a white curtain.
In the warm glow of the room’s remaining candle light, I see a small smile dancing across his lips as he slides his hand over my breast, along my collarbone, and up to my neck where it stops. “Thank you,” he whispers, “For putting up with me, I mean. And for helping with... this. I know I am not always the best company when I am in pain, and for that, I sincerely apologize, my love.”
Hearing him apologize makes me bite my lips as I shake my head at him. “When you're hurting, you’re not going to be in the best of moods, and I understand that,” I remind him. “You always take care of me when I am ill or suffering from my blooming.”
Aemond lets out a quiet puff of air from his lips, a small smile forming as he hears my words. “It's what a husband is supposed to do,” he declares as if it were a known fact, sliding back down in the furs to resume his previous position against my body. That is one of the many things that separates Aemond from other men out there. They believe women are supposed to do things for their husbands, like serve or fuck them, but the men? The men don't have to do anything for their wives.
That is where Aemond is different. Our marriage is one of equality. He never makes me feel lesser or below him, and instead, he always has me right beside him in fairness and respect
Almost immediately, he presses the side of his face against my chest like before, smoothing his painful scar against my skin as he gets comfortable once again. His firm hold around my waist tells me that I’m going to be stuck here for the rest of the night, but I can’t help but be happy about it.
“And as your wife, it is my duty to aide you in your healing as well,” I retort back, smiling. A small hum leaves his lips as I begin to comb my fingers through his hair, my nails scratching gently against his scalp. He seems to enjoy my touch almost as much as my warmth, practically purring as I continue my ministrations.
“My wife,” he repeats the term, his voice laden with sleep. “My perfect wife, my healer,” Aemond adds, pressing one final kiss to my skin as his way of saying ‘goodnight’.
Only a few moments pass before Aemond’s breathing begins to slow, falling into a more peaceful pattern compared to earlier as sleep takes ahold of his form. Following alongside him in falling asleep, I shut my eyes and lean my head back against the pillows, waiting patiently to feel that same release from earlier to capture me. However, this time, I feel a certain tranquility pass over me knowing Aemond is okay and we are in each other’s arms.
Throughout my life, I have seen nearly every married couple have a child within the first year of marriage, if not before; however, Roger and I have been married for over two years and we still don't have any children. When we got married, it was almost a silent agreement between us that we were going to wait to have kids. With Roger always being away on tour with the band, it was expected to be that way. So, I didn't mind having to wait to get pregnant - the only problem was that we never discussed just how long we were going to wait.
So, now here we are, ages 25 and 30, and still no children. Yet, for some reason, all I've been able to think about for these past few weeks - if not months - is how much I want a child with Roger. Of course, all I have to do is just ask Roger how he feels about having children now that some time has passed. Maybe this time his answer is more positive since the band has slowed down quite a bit with Freddie working on a solo album and Brian and John now having families of their own as well... lucky bastards.
I don't think Roger would be against having children since he has stated in the past that he wants kids, but he always adds the usual 'eventually' afterward. I worry that he's changed his mind over time and now the idea seems a bit undesirable to him. Of course, he may be a little scared about becoming a father, but what man isn't? In fact, what woman isn't afraid of becoming a mother either?
Like any other Sunday night, Roger and I decide to have a lazy night. As we sit and watch the newest horror film that's come to England, we feast on the Thai food he picked up while I went into the video store to rent the tape. With my legs laid across his lap, Roger feeds himself from his plate resting on top of my shins all the while I munch on one of my spring rolls. It makes me happy that we're both content just being beside each other, but at the same time, it feels as if something is... missing. The realization only makes me think back to my earlier thoughts over our family. Of course, we don't need to talk tonight, but, I would like to ask my question some time soon.
In the corner of my eye, I see Roger move his plate to the coffee table before grabbing the remote to the TV and turning the volume down. Just as I go to sit up and question him, Roger beats me to it and speaks first. "How..." He begins, his blue eyes flashing between my own gaze and the bright green couch we sit on. "How would you feel about having kids?" Roger states, making my mouth lightly drop in shock.
Grabbing the remote from him, I pause the movie and realize that nearly thirty minutes of the movie has already played, and yet, I don't remember a single bit of it. I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice the murderer in action. Now that I actually think about it, I haven't been paying attention since the beginning of movie as all I can vaguely remember is when the murderer first showed up. Was I really thinking that hard?
"I was going to ask you the same thing," I softly confess, watching as Roger's anxious frown turns into a relieved smile. "I... I would love to have kids. In fact, I think it would be nice to finally have a few kids of our own," I add, lightly giggling. "I mean, I love watching Brian and Chrissie's munchkins, but I think it would be nice to have little me's and little you's running around this place..." Looking into Roger's eyes, I ask him the same question. "How would you feel about having kids?"
Hearing a slight laugh from Roger, I watch as he shifts my legs from his lap to move beside me, now squished between me and the back of the couch as faces me with a grin. "I-I would love to have children," He practically exclaims, a mix of nervousness and excitement showing through his face. "I don't know why, but that's all I've been thinking about lately. Maybe it's because of Brian and Deaky's kids staying over here a few weeks ago, or maybe it's because I'm in that age range where most men want to have kids. Or maybe-"
Smiling, I can't help it as I cut Roger off by leaning forward and placing my lips on his. I also can't help wrapping my arms around his neck and shifting us so I can plant myself in his lap at the same time too. Just hearing him say that all he's been thinking about is having children makes me feel so many different emotions. Relief is one of them, but a thrilling sensation is another one.
Responding to my sudden actions, Roger places his hands on my hips while eagerly kissing me back. In a matter of seconds, he pulls my body closer to his while his hands begin palming my clothes as if he wants them off. Pulling away from his lips, I stare down at him while slightly panting, Roger's eyes staying on mine the entire time.
"Let's make a baby, yeah?" He asks, his voice out-of-breath. Grinning, I nod, only to feel Roger slam his lips back onto mine while moving me onto my back with his body now laying in between my legs. In the years we've been married, I've never felt this amount of passion or eagerness coming from him. Of course, there were times that were rushed or romantic, but this has an almost new level of seriousness to it. Who knew baby-talk could make him feel this way?
It wasn’t unusual for Steve to stop at my place after work rather than going home since the ride to the mall from his house was much longer - so Steve says. Clearly, the fact that we’ve been together for the past year has nothing to do with it. I’m not complaining, however, as I actually enjoy the little cartons of ice cream he usually brings home with him. Not to mention, with both of my parents going to work before I wake up till the time I go to bed, it can get quite lonely in my house. Thankfully, Steve doesn’t let me feel too lonely.
During the final days of our last year of high school, Steve started staying at my place more, and thankfully, my parents didn’t mind as long we were respectful of the them and the house - you know, typical rules. So, when summer started, Steve slept over almost every night, staying with me until he had to go to work and coming home afterward to continue our little routine. My favorite part about Steve staying over with me is seeing his soft side, the side of him that’s completely transparent - especially when he finally gets to escape his treacherous job at the mall.
Hearing my front door begin to unlock, I smile from the couch as my eyes wander from the TV to the wooden door, my happiness only growing when my eyes catch a head of curly brown hair appear once it swings open open. Kicking his shoes off at the front door, Steve practically staggers over to me before plopping down on the couch and planting his head in my lap with his face pressed into my stomach. Despite his words being muffled, I'm still able to interpret what he says.
“I had a bad day.”
With a sympathetic smile, I run my fingers through his hair while Steve manages to wrap his arms around my waist, the sight of his posture not looking very comfortable. “Why don’t we go lay down then?” I suggest to him, receiving a sigh in response.
A small ‘fine’ leaves Steve’s lips before he stands up, only to grab my hands and pull me up onto my feet with him in the process. A small noise escapes my mouth in surprise as he does this, only earning a laugh back in response. Steve knows the strength he has, and he has no problem using it.
Once we get to my room, I detach from Steve to walk over to my dresser and grab a pair of Steve’s sweatpants from the stack he has over here. However, before I can turn and give them to him, I feel his arms wrap themselves around me from behind and hold me for a few moments until he takes the pants from my grasp and lets me go. “Thank you baby,” He says with a kiss.
Turning around to face him, I smile seeing him now stripped off his uniform as he slides the pants on, his eyes catching my staring with a chuckle. “Why don’t you do something instead of just stare?” He teases, his hands adjusting the waist of his pants dangerously low on his hips. It’s definitely a sight for sore eyes, and a very tempting sight at that, but two can play this game.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I murmur with a smirk before moving forward to press my hands against his chest. Running my fingers through the dark hairs there, I watch Steve’s eyes remain locked on mine as his hands find their way back to my hips, tugging me closer. Just as he goes to lean in for a kiss, I take my chance and push him back onto my bed with a laugh, but he doesn’t let go of me and instead pulls me down on top of him at the same time.
Now the laughter is leaving us both as I struggle to get off of him and out of his strong hold; however, I only manage to do one of those things with us now lying on our sides, my body ending up tucked against his body with my head resting against his chest like a pillow. Just then, a feeling of calmness spreads between us, causing me to let out a small sigh as Steve secures his arm around my waist.
“Why’d you have a bad day today, babe?” I can’t help but ask him, my voice soft enough to not disturb the peaceful silence that fills my bedroom.
“Stupid teenagers and bratty kids,” Steve explains, his tone taking on the same volume as mine. “I just want one day where people treat me like I’m not some dumb, fresh out-of-high-school kid,” he adds, only to let out a short scoff afterward. “I mean, I kind of am, but that’s not the point.”
Laughing at his words, I push myself up his chest and push him back to lean above him as I stare down at face. Barely any time passes before Steve’s hands find their way onto my sides like they always do, holding me where I am as I rest on top of his torso. “You’re not dumb, don’t say that,” I murmur to him, only receiving a smile back from him. “I’m sorry you had a bad day though. At least Robin was there to keep you company, right?”
Immediately, Steve rolls his eyes all the while scoffing in response to my question. “She encourages everyone to fuck with me!” He corrects me in a mater-of-fact way. “Oh you didn’t get a big enough scoop? Steve, fix that. Or, better yet,” Steve imitates Robin with an obnoxious tone while moving around to exaggerate Robin’s sass. “Steve! Have you refilled the napkins? Clean the scoops? Have you-”
After a while of laughing at Steve’s antics, I have to cut him off by putting my hand over his mouth and muffling his words, but even that doesn’t stop him from going on. “She doesn’t sound like that!” I tell him, but instead of responding right away, he takes my hand off his mouth with a chuckle.
“You don’t work with her,” Steve points out, keeping my hand in his on his chest as his thumb runs against the skin on the back of my hand. Instead of continuing to argue with him, I choose to simply shake my head at him with a smile before scooting back down in bed and laying my head back against his chest, earning a soft hum from him.
“I’m so glad I came here instead of going to my place. I know I come over a lot, but I just had to see you,” he confesses, my cheeks heating up as his voice takes on a more serious tone. “My parents still won’t stop getting onto me about how I’m not doing enough with my time, as if I don’t have a job.”
His words make me sigh as my heart breaks for him. His parents are always so critical with him about everything, it’s unbelievable. “I’m glad you came over too, babe, and don’t listen to your stuck-up parents,” I murmur, feeling his arm resume its previous place around my waist. “Your dad just wants you to be miserable like him one day.”
Steve nods his head at my words before chuckling, his arm giving me a small squeeze. “It’s a good thing I have you then, huh?” He notes, “The woman of my dreams who keeps me happy,” pressing a kiss to the top of my head, Steve leaves his lips there as he speaks up again. "I love you, sweetheart."
Although it’s not the first time I’ve heard those words leave his lips, it still makes me blush every time he says them, but I think he knows that.
A/N: I've never written smut, so this was something new for me - but I actually really enjoyed writing it! So with that, I will say there are a couple trigger warnings such as use of genitals, no actual smut, but things that lead up to smut.
Word Count: 1.6k~
There were nights Aemond seemed more upset than usual, lashing out over small things that typically didn’t matter as well as going on rants about anything and everything. The meetings with councils never seemed to go well anymore (but had they ever?), and the recently named king didn’t help matters.
When Aemond and I first wed, I had to get used to these random moments, never truly knowing what to do for him or even what to say. If I asked a question over the subject of his rants, I would earn another long bout of complaints from Aemond’s lips. So, I simply started to remain silent and watch him do his thing. It was only then that Aemond would stop his complaints earlier than before, no longer having the energy for more if I wasn’t going to spur him on.
Tonight is a different story, however; tonight Aemond seems to be completely pissed off to the seven realms, pacing our chambers as endless words spill from his mouth. No matter how much time passes, Aemond finds one thing after another to speak about, his voice only rising when he begins to recount all the bad qualities of his brother.
“He is always making poor choices, the absolute imbecile! Incapable of truly composing one’s self as a king,” his comments reach me, but they’re nothing I haven’t heard before. Aegon is often the reason for Aemond’s moods, often ruining his day by either doing something to irritate him or saying something to set him off. The brothers know how to get under each other’s skin with it being almost like a game for the two.
“While he focuses on his whores, he looks in the face of war and smiles as if he is truly the one in control… he’s going to face an early grave if he doesn’t stop,” Aemond rambles before stopping in his stride.
From where I sit on our bed, I look over and watch as the man shakes his head out of frustration in the mirror in front of him, his arms holding himself up as he leans against the wooden vanity. For a few seconds, Aemond grows quiet before moving his hands up to remove the leather patch covering the sapphire in place of his eye. He slips it off the top of his head and tosses it down on the table before looking behind himself in the mirror. His gaze meets mine practically instantly, a small smirk forming on his face as his next words spill from his lips like wine.
“Perhaps his end wouldn’t be such a bad thing… it would save our family name from such embarrassments in the future.”
“Aemond!” I chastise him in a hushed whisper, “Do not let anyone, Gods forbid your mother, hear you say such things about the king.”
Despite my words holding some merit, the smirk on his face remains, the smug aura around him only growing as he turns away from the mirror and begins to step closer to me. If it were any other night, I would remind him to strip before climbing onto our bed with his day clothes still on, the fabrics reeking of dragon and sweat, but the way he walks toward me with his hands behind his back tells me I should probably keep my mouth shut this time.
“Oh, dear wife,” He murmurs as he kneels in front of me on our silks and furs, his blue almost grey eye falling onto my slip-covered chest from where I sit up against the bed. “My mother is used to such insults between me and my brother, she knows better than to make a fuss over us,” Aemond further adds but I just stare up at him with a raised brow. This earns me a confused look from him. “What?”
“It’s still not nice to talk about your brother that way,” I point out, watching as his original smirk quickly returns. The air around us soon takes on a certain playfulness as Aemond rests his hands on my knees. He doesn’t do anything right away, but I can tell he’s planning on something.
“My love, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to defend my idiot brother,” He playfully accuses, barely a second passing before the hands on my knees tug me closer to him in our bed, ultimately sliding my back onto the furs at the same time as he now hovers above me. Long white hair now framing my face, Aemond stares down at me with that same amused face from before. “Tell me, wife,” He begins, “do you fancy my brother?”
I quickly scoff at his words. “Of course not, husband! You should know not to propose such disgusting things,” I retort, rolling my eyes. “There’s only one Targaryen that I will ever fancy and it is the one I share a bed with,” Those words seem to stop Aemond in his joking, the corners of his lips falling into a soft smile as his thumbs begin rubbing the skin on my knees.
“Twas just a joke, my love,” He assures me as he settles his body down on mine, his elbows keeping him from completely lying on top of me. “I know you could never like someone as incompetent and moronic as Aegon,” I can’t help but roll my eyes as Aemond begins insulting his brother once again. His undying commitment to things is something that originally drew me to him, but as I soon learned, this would also come with the ability to keep on talking relentlessly about something that made him irate.
“Besides,” Aemond’s voice brings my attention back to him, his hand dragging my face back over to his before pressing a kiss to my lips. However it isn’t long before Aemond takes his lips from mine and drags them down my neck, biting and sucking against the skin as he goes on. “There’s only one Targaryen that you’ll ever belong to,” He murmurs in between his assaults, leaving dark red bruises in his wake.
His words combined with the continuous actions from his lips leave me growing more and more wanting for him every second he continues with the assaults. My legs involuntarily try to close to create some friction, but they are stopped by Aemond's body still resting on top of mine. Feeling my legs try to close around him, Aemond quickly smirks against my skin before grinding his body against where I need him the most, all the while something hard pokes against me, showing I'm not the only one turned on by his actions. I can't help the small moan that leaves my lips at this, the sound only spurring Aemond more in his actions.
After leaving an exceptionally large mark on my collarbone, he pulls away from the flesh with an audible pop before peering down at me with a smug expression upon seeing my flushed form. Still keeping his hips against mine, Aemond continues his subtle actions all the while dragging a finger from my throat down to the middle of my breasts. “But you know that already, don’t you?”
“Yes…” I answer him, the word falling from my lips quickly as I await his next move. However, much to my surprise, he leans up to press soft kisses against my cheek with his hand following to caress the side of my face as he moves onto my neck and everywhere else soon afterward. Stopping beside my ear, he whispers to me in a deep voice.
“Say it.”
As soon as the command leave his mouth, he is slinking back down on top of me like before just as I speak up. “I am yours, Aemond... only yours- ah!” When I’m least expecting it, I feel his lips wrap around my nipple and begin to harshly suck, making me jolt into his mouth as my hands fly to his hair. I can feel him smirk once more at this, my reaction only encouraging him to do it even more.
“Only yours…” I find myself murmuring as I relax back against the sheets. However, I’m not allowed to do this for very long as I soon recognize the familiar, soft touch of Aemond’s hands running down my back before going under my nightgown and settling on my bottom, quickly squeezing and tugging my hips even closer to his once he comes into contact with the flesh. A deep groan leaves his throat as he does this, an animalistic hunger visibly taking over him.
Keeping our hips pressed against each other, Aemond moves to lean on his arms above me once again all the while his gaze stays locked onto my own. “I would kill anyone for you, even my foolish brother,” he confesses, his voice deep and domineering.
On top of that, his eye is blown with lust, black almost covering the blue that usually shows through, all the while his chest moves up and down with heavy pants. Seeing him so unkempt causes even more desire to surge through me, my brain reminding me that I’m the only one who ever gets to see him like this.
“Just as you are mine, I am yours,” Aemond practically growls, hardness rubbing even harder against me as he grinds his hips further into mine. “Forever, I am yours,” moving to lean on just one of his arms, he takes his now free hand from the bed before dragging it down my stomach and stopping at where we would be joined if it weren’t for the clothes separating us. Seeing my breath hitch as I anticipate his next move, Aemond smirks down at me just like before. “And forever, you are mine.”
Quick A/N: God, I think I wrote this when I was like 13-14 because Dead Rising 3 had come out, and after a long time, there was nothing written about Nick so I went ahead and wrote this for myself. I doubt anyone will read a piece about the main character from a 13-year-old game (that unfortunately wasn’t all that popular), but I still want to post it because teenage-me really enjoyed writing this nearly a decade ago, and maybe - just maybe - there will be someone out there that enjoys reading it too.
Word count: 1k~
"I'm going with you."
Those were the words Nick didn't want to hear his girlfriend say, but the universe had a funny sense of humor. In the zombie outbreak taking over Los Santos, he needed to do everything in his power to protect the love of his life. Nick may have been immune to the virus, but (Y/n) wasn't, and he didn't need her taking any chances to get herself bitten or killed. He just couldn't.
"Like hell you are," Nick quickly denied her request, walking past her to leave the conversation. However, he didn't get far as she immediately took ahold of his arm and stopped him, making him turn back to see her desperately looking up at him.
"Nick, I have to go with you," she told him, cutting him off once more as he began to argue. "I can't lose you!" She nearly shouted, moving closer to stand directly in front of him. "You got bit, and despite it healing and you not turning, I can't take the chance of that happening again, or worse."
All of her concerns were all of Nick's, just switched around. The same things she worried about, he worried about for her. He loved her, and he couldn't face losing her. He was an orphan growing up, and because of not being shown what love was by missing parent figures in his life, he couldn't bear the thought of giving the love of his life up to something he could prevent. It just wasn't happening.
Without replying to her meaningful words, Nick frowned and shook his head before pulling her close to him in his arms. He knew that's what she wanted most - his touch. She'd wanted a moment of nothing but him holding her ever since they got back to the garage. However, with the zombies and insanity-filled survivors and men riding flame-throwing motorcycles everywhere, she had to wait, and now, at this moment, she basked in it.
Holding her close to him, Nick scrunched his eyes shut as her soft arms came up to wrap around his abdomen, not caring about the oil stains or zombie blood from his mechanic suit getting onto her clothes. (Y/n) held him as he held her with the same amount of love she had for him like any other time they hugged; however, this embrace seemed to be filled with more than just love. It was filled with every emotion they were feeling at that very moment.
Nick felt worn out and stressed beyond belief. He'd been put through some rough challenges for the past twenty-four hours, and with the responsibility of saving all of those he loved, it was all such a heavyweight on his shoulders. At any moment, that responsibility could be taken away with a simple mistake on his part, and just the idea made his stomach churn.
On the other side, (Y/n) felt useless and unproductive. She couldn't get anything done by staying at the garage and waiting for her boyfriend to arrive back, hoping and worrying that he comes back unharmed. However, she could be useful by going with Nick and helping him with everything that he was doing, but he wouldn't let her. So, she was back to feeling unproductive, and that made her feel useless once again.
"I can't let you go with me," Nick told her, his voice revealing his exhaustion and desperation for her to comply with him. Just like him, she began to argue, but just like her, he cut her off. "It is too dangerous for you to go out, and I will not let you get yourself hurt by those fucking zombies out there."
Being the calm and collected man he was, Nick ever so rarely cursed. It was only in times of frustration or hurt that he used such words, and when he did, she knew he was serious. Through cussing, Nick was able to reveal his feelings with few, but big words. With just the one, she knew that he physically and mentally couldn't handle her getting hurt, just as he said.
"Okay," she finally gave in, resting her head on his chest as her hand rose up to meet his fast-beating heart. With her palm against his chest, Nick let out a sigh. "Please," she begged, her voice choked up as she pleaded with him. "Do not get yourself killed."
With a simple head shake, Nick slid a hand from her waist up to her hair where he gently combed through her hair with his fingers, memorizing the softness of it. "I won't, babe," He tells her, holding her for just a few minutes more. "I promise."
Later on, days passed, fights came, and people joined the fight against the government and their plan for the zombie outbreak. Looking out of the helicopter window, she found herself crying tears of joy as Nick answered her call, informing her of their victory. Upon landing the helicopter, the very person he did all this for was quick to run into her boyfriend's waiting arms, tears of happiness falling down his cheeks as well.
As soon as she landed in his hold, Nick quickly took the chance to lift her up and hold her chest to chest. In response, she subconsciously slid her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist as he kissed her with everything he had. Once they pulled away, she rested a hand against his cheek as she leaned her forehead against his. "Thank you," She muttered, watching Nick furrow his eyebrows in confusion.
"Thank you for what?" He questioned her, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"For everything," she answered Nick, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. "For fighting for us, for saving us," She continued, only to smile once more as she spoke her final words, her voice quiet and gentle. "For keeping your promise~"
Car accidents were far too common for the EMS team at station 118. In fact, a lot of the calls they got were for vehicle crashes as the summer months often made them increase. Still, they prepared themselves for each and every emergency call made the best they could. However, the scene they were coming to was not one they were expecting.
When the emergency call was made, the person on the phone described the accident as a minor one with only two cars being involved. Thankfully, there were only two cars, but while one was practically unscathed, despite some damage to the tires, the other was practically crushed on the entire passenger side thanks to the first vehicle bouncing off of it. It angered the crew to see nearby people surrounded by the person in the untouched truck, meanwhile the person in the smaller car was left to struggle getting out of her smashed car. In all actuality, the victim wasn't just struggling - she was actually stuck.
“Hen and Chimney, go check on that guy and give him a breathalyzer test. The rest of us, come on,” with Nash’s orders, the crew split up, leaving Buck and Nash to run over to the clearly struggling driver in the destroyed car. “We need a trauma unit on standby,” Nash said into the radio before yelling for someone to get the jaws of life.
Beside him stood a slightly shaken up Buck as his eyes evaluated everything before him. This car was done for, obviously, but the person in the driver seat was still awake, which was a good thing. Unfortunately, part of where the vehicle had been crushed appeared to have part of her arm and leg pinned. Despite being in shock, she had managed to crack the door open with one arm, but with part of the car still pinning her to her seat, there was nothing more she could do to help herself.
Trailing his eyes up to her face, he saw an almost scared look on her face, but her eyes showed him everything. “Jaws of life! Now!” He repeated Nash’s orders, rushing forward to check the driver over. Her eyes remained locked on his as he kneeled before her, getting ready to evaluate the situation in front of him. “Hi, honey, what’s your name?” He asked her, his eyes flashing between her injured arm and the slow trickle of blood pooling by her leg. Until the jaws of life came, he could only take her vitals for now.
“(Y/n),” she told him, her voice smooth and clear as if she wasn’t in a dangerous car accident minutes ago. She watched as Buck took her pulse, gently holding her uninjured wrist for a few moments before announcing her pulse was low. “Am I going to be okay?”
Her question caused Buck to look back into her eyes, a moment of silence passing before Buck moved a hand up to cup her face. “Yes, you will be okay,” He assured her, nodding along with her as she processed his words. “We’re going to get you unstuck from your car and then we’re off to the hospital,” Buck further explained as Nash prepared the appropriate gauze and wraps they would need for her wounds. “Okay?”
“Okay,” (Y/n) responded, even flashing a small, but still slightly scared smile at Buck as Hen ran around with the jaws of life. Seeing her smile made time pause for Buck, taken aback by the beauty she held - once again, even in her situation. He couldn’t properly explain why this happened as this had never occurred before. With this, Buck knew he had to do everything he could in that moment to make sure she was okay in the end.
“Possible arterial bleeding, no head trauma,” Nash stated as Hen got to work at cutting away the metal. The biggest concern in that moment was removing the pressure against her injured limbs; doing so could cause the bleeding to worsen, and as the pooling blood in the floorboard grew bigger, they knew the had to move quickly.
The noise of the car’s metal being crunched beside her made (Y/n) jolt and grab Buck’s hand, scared of what was to come next. He didn’t tear his hand away nor did he jolt, and instead, squeezed it reassuringly. “You’re going to be okay,” Buck reminded her once more as his other hand moved behind her back so that he could help her get out as soon as it was safe enough to. Beside Buck, Nash already began applying pressure to the revealed portion of her leg with gauze.
“Okay, let’s go!” Hen yelled before applying the final cut to the car, letting the metal be pulled away as the rest of them rushed to untangle (Y/n) from her seat. With the metal gone, the damage to her arm was all cosmetic, the skin being covered in cuts and scrapes. As for her leg, that was a different story. Just as Nash had presumed, the metal had cut deeply into her leg, and hit her femoral artery. With the constant pumping of blood now flowing from the wound on her leg, Nash applied even more pressure to it before he and Buck managed to effectively get her out of there.
“That really hurts,” (Y/n) told them as they laid her down onto the stretcher. Still, she did not let go of Buck’s hand, only gripping it tighter as tears rose to her eyes.
“I know, but we have to do this to stop the bleeding,” Buck explained while a tourniquet was placed above the wound. After raising the stretcher, she was wheeled over to the ambulance with Buck still trailing beside her. “Once you’re in there, they’ll be able to help you with your pain.”
Immediately, (Y/n) shot up on the stretcher, only to be urged back down by everyone. However, this didn’t deter her from staring into Buck like before. “Don’t leave me,” She almost pleaded with him, the tears falling freely now. “Please.”
He couldn’t deny this woman whom he hadn’t even properly met, not when she looked at him like that. Buck could feel everything through her; the fear, the panic, no part of him would feel okay if he left her at this moment.
“Go with her, make sure she remains stable,” Nash told Buck with a pat on his back, making him look over and give his superior an appreciative nod. Nash knew the lady needed Buck as he had been in his place before - she was going through shock most likely and she had found comfort in Buck.
After (Y/n) was lifted into the ambulance, Buck climbed in after her, resuming holding her hand to which she firmly grasped back and gave him a small smile once more. Buck hoped she’d keep that smile until the hospital, but with the extreme blood loss she was suffering from, she soon lost consciousness with semi-stable vitals.
Following Nash’s orders, Buck stayed in the ER waiting room as (Y/n) remained in surgery. Hen had even come by with the girl’s purse and phone she managed to grab before her car was towed away, leaving Buck to thank her immensely as he hadn’t even thought to ask anyone to look for her wallet or ID, much less her bag with everything in it.
When she came out and they placed her in her own room, Buck remained in there with her until she woke up. He wasn’t expecting her to remember the accident, much less him. It was a lot to comprehend all at once, not to mention she was rushed into surgery soon afterward. However, as soon as she opened her eyes, she remembered everything - how could she forget a face like that?
Buck wasted no time in going to her room when the nurse informed him she was awake, and since the hospital had been unable to reach any of her emergency contacts, Buck felt the need to be there for her. Once he saw her sitting up in the hospital bed, he felt an instant rush of relief flow through him; however, he couldn’t ignore her bruised face or her broken leg currently upheld in a sling. Not to mention a small part of him worried about her not remembering him, but that was quickly shot down when she looked at him.
“Your name is Buck, right?” She asked first, her voice a little hoarse and raspy. A smile immediately came to Buck’s face once she said that, causing him to feel like he could grab the room’s rolling stool and sit beside her bed without her freaking out and thinking he was a stranger. She watched him do so, catching onto his nerves when he began tapping his fingers against his legs and flickering his eyes between her and various parts of the room.
“Uh yeah, do you remember what all happened?” Buck asked her, but she only nodded her head. “Are you feeling okay?”
Again, the girl nods before answering. “I mean, my leg is broken and my face is pretty busted up, but at least they gave me some meds,” (Y/n) explains, glancing at her suspended leg before turning her gaze back to Buck. It’s only then that it occurs to her that she’s dressed in nothing but a hospital gown in front of a cute guy she just met.
Immediately, her hands moved to pull the hospital blanket over her and her suspended leg, albeit while struggling. Seeing this, Buck wasted no time in helping her, gently covering her with the blanket more effectively than she could. His actions made her look at him and watch as he cared for her, only looking away when his eyes returned to hers. How could this random stranger be so kind and good-looking? Not to mention the cute guy had stayed back for her when no one else could even show up. She wanted to ask him why, but instead, she chose to say the first thing that came to her head thanks to the morphine. “In all honesty, I’m more upset over getting hit by that fucking idiot more than anything.”
Buck couldn’t help but laugh when the comment leaves her lips, not expecting such an honest, yet bold statement to leave her lips. “He was arrested, don’t worry,” he informed her, “but I do think your car is totaled, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately,” (Y/n) echoed his words, followed by a sigh as her eyes fell shut. She had a feeling that was the final straw for her old car after the thing almost killed her.
Seeing her grow tense the more she thought about her current situation, Buck moved forward to put his hands over hers. It was a big step, to go from covering her with a blanket to holding her hand without her being the one to initiate, but he felt it was right.
“Hey, hey, don’t stress right now,” he told her, causing her to reopen her eyes and look back at him. “I know this is a really hard time for you, and there’s a lot being thrown your way, but you don’t have to do it all alone,” scooting his chair a little closer, Buck continued as (Y/n) listened to every word leaving his mouth. “I’ve been in a few accidents myself, so I know what it’s like, but I also know what it’s like to do it all on your own, too. It’s not fun,” despite seeing her frown at his revelation, he smiled at her. “If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind helping you as you get better, and I’ve also got some great friends back at the station you can meet too.”
His words caused her to resume smiling like before until he felt her hand turn up to return his hold, making his eyes flash between her and their hands a few times. “Thank you, Buck, really," She tells him, "Thank you for staying here with me, you have no idea how much I appreciate you.”
“No problem,” he murmurs before remembering the bag he laid on the counter when first entering her room. “my coworker actually brought your purse in with your phone, so if you need me, please call. I left one of our station’s cards in there with my number so you have it,” He tells her, reaching back to grab the purse before handing it to her. She smiles at him as she lays the bag in her lap, taking her phone out as well as the card he had mentioned. Glancing over the information, she found herself reading his name over and over again in her head.
Evan Buckley
Buck
Although she had only heard him referred to as 'Buck', she liked the name 'Evan' much better. She didn't know if it was because of her pain medication or if she was still kind of reeling from the accident, but the thought of a cute name matching such a cute face was nice to her.
Looking away from the card and back to that cute face, she had to hold herself back from announcing that very thought, but lucky for her, the sound of a phone going off soon took her attention away from her thoughts and back to reality.
Taking his phone out of his pocket, Buck glances at the screen before looking back at the girl with a sheepish smile. “That’s my boss so I probably need to head back soon,” he explains, his voice sounding apologetic.
She shakes her head at him, quickly reassuring him. “O-of course, don’t get in trouble because of me."
“No, no, you’re fine! I’m not in trouble or anything,” He explains, “he was actually the one who told me to stay and make sure you were okay,” Relief flows through him seeing her relax at that, her body deflating as well as a smile gracing her lips. “yeah, we’re a pretty nice group out there.”
“Clearly,” she says with a smile, “I really owe you guys,” her words are laced with gratitude, amazed at so many strangers and their ability to show her kindness. Meanwhile no one she knew could be reached, which wasn’t all that surprising to her. Moving to California had gained her many new friends and opportunities, but at the same time, it had also caused almost her whole family to turn their backs on her.
“It’s no problem, really, sweetheart” Buck told her, “Call me when you need help, okay? And I’ll answer,” With that, he gave her hand one last squeeze as he stood up from his chair. She watched as he fixed her blanket across her leg once more before flashing a smile and walking out. Despite feeling calm from all the pain meds, her heart beat like crazy in her chest; whose heart wouldn’t in such a scenario?
Even as Buck walked out of the hospital and opened his phone to call for a ride, he found himself trying to also calm his wild heart, still reeling over the interaction with the cute woman he just met. Tapping on Nash’s contact, Buck goes to call his captain to be picked up, but just as he goes to do so, a text message from a new number pops up instead.
Uknown Number: I know you said to call when I needed help but I can’t begin to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I hope the rest of your day goes well and you and your crew remain safe.
His smile grows wider as he saves her number before typing out his response.
Buck: Please you can reach out anytime you like, in fact I’m happy to hear from you.
He presses send and within a few seconds, he receives a funny response back.
Sweetheart: Anytime I’d like? Does that mean I can call you at 2 in the morning?
Buck audibly laughs at the comment before typing one back.
Heyy! Im unsure if you take requests but.. if i may inquire, could i maybe request a Donny Donowitz x Jewish! Nurse! Reader? And, idk if you do NSFW but if you do, that would not be met with hostility if you catch my drift ;)
I would absolutely love to do this request! I love this premise so much, I will definitely start writing it soon
baratheonpilled
vaporwave
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline