#I hate Owen so much and the fact he’s still on the show???? someone please…. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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so so many thanks to everyone who read even one of these stories. i am forever grateful for all the support i've received; every comment, every kudos, every reblog, every like - they all mean so much. i'm overwhelmed, honestly, but in the very best way. ily all 🥰

day one: against all odds (we're still here) for @trkstrnd

Carlos will hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused on his task that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

a simple trip to the grocery store quickly turns to disaster for tk and carlos

day two: out, damned spot for anon

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

But they weren't always that way.

day three: the meetings for those in my wake for @freddieholic

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news, and almost always about their son. Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas, which is why she thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Gwyn, it’s TK. He's... They think we should say goodbye."

day four: a friend in me for 📍 anon

Carlos has come to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But, right now, as she sits hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, he's never seen her look so small.

the story of how nancy and carlos become the new champions of 126 games nights

day five: truth is heavier than fiction for anon

Carlos pauses with his hand on the doorknob, taking a moment to prepare himself before going inside. TK’s shift finished an hour ago and he’d texted to let Carlos know he was home, which means Carlos is going to be walking right into a conversation he’d rather avoid.

Not that he’d have much choice either way; he might be able to cover his cracked and bruised ribs for a little while, but the arm in a sling will tell on him as soon as the door opens. Carlos doesn’t want to hide his injuries—they’ve had enough conversations in reverse on that theme to make him a hypocrite if he did—but he may have made some choices that he doesn’t particularly want to go into right now. Not while he’s tired and aching and just wants to cuddle with his boyfriend.

He blows out a breath, then opens the door, bracing himself for TK’s reaction.

“Hey— Shit!”

day six: slowly, and then all at once for @pragmaticoptimist34

The realisation that he loves Carlos hits him like a bolt out of the blue.

And at the worst possible moment.

We are getting updates on the active shooter situation at the Four Seasons Hotel. Austin Police Department have closed off the area and officers are currently preparing to enter the building to detain the suspect. It is as yet unknown if there have been any civilian casualties, but—

“Paul, turn the damn TV back on.”

“No.”

five times tk can't admit his feelings about carlos, and one time he finally does

day seven: the promise of tomorrow for anon

Up until five minutes ago, Carlos had been terrified of never having TK in his arms again. Now, the thought of letting him go scares him just as much, and TK seems to feel the same, if the way he’s clutching at Carlos’s jacket and pulling it tight across his back is any indication.

Carlos hugs him close, sinking down to his knees as TK falls into the chair behind him, letting the rest of the room fade away to nothing as he realises that they weren’t too late—that TK is here, with him, alive and mostly whole.

day eight: we'll hold each other soon for @221bsunsettowers

“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away.

It's the last good memory Carlos has, and he's going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he's going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK's smile.

day nine: now i am just but the wayward man for anon

Ben is glaring at him again.

Klaus is very familiar with this specific glare—it’s the one Ben breaks out when Klaus is being ‘stubborn’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘a fucking asshole junkie with no self-respect who only cares about the next high and, really, it’s a fucking miracle you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet, Klaus’.

He has to hand it to him. Ben really does have him down to a tee.

winter is approaching and klaus has nowhere to go. his siblings are his only option—meaning he effectively has no options.

day ten: i can't imagine my life without you for 📍 anon

It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.

“I think we need a break.”

nobody likes to be asked 'trouble in paradise?', particularly when the answer is yes.

day eleven: start again from the beginning for anon

Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.

But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.

day twelve: let me love you when your heart is tired for anon

TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—

But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.

day thirteen: couldn't utter my love when it counted for 📍 anon

TK takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.

Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.

But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken. For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.

That’s when the explosion rips through the building.

after the boba date, tk lets carlos go. they're friends, which is working just fine, until a horrific accident threatens to take even that away from them.

day fourteen: if i walk out the door (a thousand eyes) for anon

TK gets this feeling sometimes, a sort of prickling at his back, like someone’s behind him, breathing down his neck. At first, it was only a once-in-a-while situation, so he thinks nothing of it; when it becomes an everyday occurrence, he starts to wonder, but he’s probably just being paranoid. The shooting, kidnapping, firehouse explosion, and the fire at his and Carlos’s house had all taken their toll, and TK’s just generally more on edge these days.

He doesn’t tell anyone about the feeling, not even Carlos. There’s no reason to fuck up everyone else’s peace with something so stupid. It’ll go away eventually; TK’s sure of it.

That is, until one of the lots just down from the firehouse gets occupied.

day fifteen: find you here inside the dark for @fanfic-corner

Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.

If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—

Wait.

She can hear her now.

day sixteen: accidents happen for @ilovemosss

So, Jason reflects, it may not have been the best idea to take Pythagoras out training while they’re all suffering from a severe lack of sleep. Being the more logical of them, Pythagoras, to his credit, had attempted to talk him out of it, but Jason ignored him.

He very much regrets that decision now.

day seventeen: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team) for @laelipoo

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the little blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

day eighteen: in perfect harmony for @anyotherheartwilldo

Here’s the thing—Carlos doesn’t believe in signs. He used to when he was younger, raised on his abuela’s stories, but as he’d gotten older his father had taught him that what mattered was the choices he made. He’s the only one who has a say in the way his life turns out, and if he wants something, he has to put in the work to get it.

But there comes a point—namely, after his fifth thwarted attempt to propose to TK—when he begins to wonder if the universe really does have something against him.

proposing to tk proves far more complicated than carlos had first thought.

day nineteen: whatever here that's left of me (is yours) for anon

“Are you…” TK leans closer, peering at the hoodie Carlos is wearing, and—yep. “Why are you wearing my hoodie? Was there nothing in your size from the crew? You should have said something. We can fix this, you don’t need to be uncomfortable.”

There’s a beat, and then Carlos, studiously avoiding TK’s gaze, clears his throat. “It smells like you.”

post-2.12, carlos finds comfort in tk's hoodies.

day twenty: can't smile without you for anon

Carlos would be lying to himself if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before. He has always worried for TK’s safety, and the knowledge that a serial killer is on the loose in Austin has sent that worry skyrocketing. Especially because he’s the lead detective on the case; he’s spent hours poring over horrific crime scenes, examining all the facts until they’re burned into his brain.

Admittedly, the killers seem to be mostly indiscriminate in who they take, meaning the chances of it being TK are slim.

But there’s still a chance.

a before, during, and after of tk's kidnapping in a hole where your memory goes

day twenty-one: lately you've been searching for a darker place to hide for @freddieholic

“Can I ask you something else?”

TK stiffens at the sound of Mateo’s voice, a nervous note to it that wasn’t there last time. Something tells him he knows exactly what Mateo wants to ask; still, he turns to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as casually as he can manage. “Sure.”

“Are you…” Mateo trails off, biting his lip and avoiding TK’s gaze. “I mean, do you… I mean—”

“You can say it, you know,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “If you want to know if I’m thinking about heading out and getting high, then just ask.”

five times tk turns to unhealthy coping mechanisms when he wants to use + one time he finally asks for help

day twenty-two: know me crazy, soothe me daily for anon

It had freaked Carlos out the first time it happened.

“It was a seizure,” TK explained, after Carlos had finished telling him about it. TK had been disoriented and confused for about ten minutes after, and couldn’t even remember half of their earlier conversation. “I… It’s because of the drugs. They fucked something up in my brain, especially after my first overdose, and now I get seizures occasionally."

in which carlos gets a little over-protective and tk is mildly exasperated

day twenty-three: lover, be good to me for anon

Carlos holds his arms out, and TK comes willingly, setting what Carlos now recognises as a tray of food carefully on the bed. “What’s this?”

TK stares as if it’s obvious. “Date night.”

“What?”

TK pauses, then gasps. “You’re right.” He pats himself down frantically, then pulls an object out of his pocket with a dramatic flourish. It’s a little electric tea light—real candles long since banned from the bedroom—and Carlos watches in bemusement as TK flicks it on and sets it down on the tray. “Now it’s date night.”

his fiancé being bed-bound isn't going to keep tk from date night

day twenty-four: bring you in from the cold for anon

As a cop, Carlos has always been uncomfortably aware of his own mortality. He’s considered his own death more than is probably healthy, but when you’re facing down the barrel of a gun almost every single day, it’s kind of forced on you.

He’s imagined himself being shot, stabbed, strangled, and everything in between.

But he’s not sure he ever pictured dying in a walk-in freezer after getting trapped there by mistake.

day twenty-five: heaving through corrupted lungs for anon

TK is itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.

His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.

when carlos falls ill, they think it's just a bad cold. but when tk goes to check on him, he's in for a nasty shock.

day twenty-six: slowly becoming lovers for @pragmaticoptimist34

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

tk and carlos, getting to know each other and falling in love

day twenty-seven: and curse the gods for @girlwhowasntthere

Jason knows what it is to be cursed.

day twenty-eight: ignoring every warning for @moviegeek03

TK is fine.

He is absolutely, 100% fine.

And, sure, maybe he’s not supposed to be at work right now, and maybe his hand hasn’t fully healed yet, but it’s nothing. His doctor cleared him to go back to work, which means it’s healed enough, and TK is certainly not going to admit defeat no matter how much he's hurting.

day twenty-nine: can you beat back the night? for @girlwhowasntthere

He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.

It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.

this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.

day thirty: ease my mind for @silvarafael

Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.

Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.

Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.

Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.

day thirty-one: scars turn to memories for anon

Their front door is open. It’s wide open, and the wood of the door frame is broken, splinters littering the driveway and the floor of the front room. TK’s heart stops in his chest as he surveys the scene, his brain going blank, struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing.

Everything is quiet in the front room, not even a table setting out of place. TK creeps further into their home, his every nerve on edge as he barely breathes for fear of alerting whoever’s here of his presence.

And then, he remembers.

Carlos was off shift tonight. He was here. Alone.

#masterlist #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

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migilini · 3 years

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Roadtrip - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: just a daydream I had when I saw this GIF. It’s not proofread. I’m open to requests.

Words: 2k

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You and Charlie were on a road trip from LA to Oklahoma and last to Chigaco. Your boyfriend had to move there due to the fact that he got cast in a movie and you were fortunate enough to move with him, being able to work from home. It wasn't your idea to drive all those miles via car, but Charlie doesn't like flying so he avoided it at all cost and because you love him, you accompanied him for those dreadful hours.

It was way too early for your liking, of course Charlie knew that and put up with your grumpy, nontalkative mood, simply shoving a large cup of coffee into your hands. “Ma cœur, how much longer until you're more awake to talk to me?” Charlie asked after a while, as he glanced over to you on the passenger side, his free hand tracing little hearts on your thigh. You yawned and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “About this much.” You measured the amount still in the cup, making him chuckle.

You and Charlie have been dating for nearly one and a half years now, however it feels like it's been much longer. From the start, the two of you were attached at the hip, instantly comfortable around each other. Everybody said that you two moved too fast because you moved in with each other after only three months of dating, but because of Covid you didn't want to risk being apart. Even though objectively speaking, you and Charlie were not the same, you were more daydreaming than actually paying attention and you didn't need the adrenaline in your life, you completed him in a magical way.

Right now you two were two hours in, the coffee was empty and you ass already sore from all the sitting. It was something you always despided about yourself, you could spend all day laying in bed, but you couldn't sit still, changing position every now and then. Tapping your foot to the beat of the song streaming from the radio. Charlie calmly hummed along to the song, his fingers also tapping along. You looked over at him and couldn't love him more.

“Are you excited to see Owen and Jer?” You asked him, breaking the silence. A breathtaking smile overtook his face “You know it! How about you?” You nodded, also excited to see the boys again. “Mhm. I missed them a lot.” The song on the radio changed and you huffed in annoyance, you hated that song. Sensing that, Charlie took out his phone and connected it to the car.

“Charlie! Don't drive and be on your phone!” You snapped it out of his hand, giving him a displeased look. Scrolling through Spotify you eventually choose a song to your liking. 18 by OneDirection blared through the speakers, while you put the volume higher you turned in your seat. “I have loved you since we were 18. Well technically 20 but that's a detail.” You whispered the last part. He scrunched his nose in amusement, a quirk you loved dearly.

The two of you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs, the car driving on an empty highway. The rest of the world fading away, leaving the two of you in a cozy little bubble of your own. The day continued just like that, the two of you singing to songs and just enjoying the company. You loved seeing him drive, something about it was just so attractive to you, maybe it was the way his arms flexed when he moved the wheel, or the fact that you yourself were unable to drive. Even with your 21 years of life, you refused to sit behind the steering wheel and Charlie had tried several times, it always ended with you in tears.

“Do you want to stop somewhere to sleep? It's getting kinda late and you have been driving the whole day.” you questioned, looking at the horizon as the last beams of yellow and red vanished slowly. “Yes please. Can you search for a hotel around here?” Nodding, you took his phone and went onto google maps.

“There's one about two hours away in New Mexico. Reviews look good and the price isn't too high. Sadly no breakfast included, so we're gonna get you something on the road, not gonna let you starve, otherwise I will be stranded here.” He gave your thigh a playful slap and a squeeze “Yeah, yeah love you too, Char. I will look it up… Ah perfect! There's a Dunkin Donuts five miles from the hotel. Does that sound good babe?” He hummed in approval.

“Ah a man of words!” he took one of your hands and gave it a light kiss. “You know me. I always wanted to be a Mime.” he joked.

Before you knew it, the car came to a stop in the pitch black. Only a little yellow neon sign lighting up the hotel parking spot.

“This looks like this one Teen Wolf episode…” you murmured, not feeling the best about this place. “You’re just saying that because you're scared of the dark ma cœur. I'm here to protect you. No Monsters are harming you tonight.” he teased, getting out of the car. In typical Charlie fashion, he walked around the car and opened your door and held out a hand for you, immediately intertwining your fingers.

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “Ha ha…”

The two of you were happy to finally walk off the stiffness of your legs, as you walked over to the reception.

“Hello. We would have a room please.”

The receptionist was in his late 30s, his greying hair falling messily in his eyes and a big smile sat on his thin lips. “No Problem. Is a king bed alright with the two of you?” he didn't want to assume anything. You and Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly “Preferred actually.”

Five minutes later, you waited in the room 345 while Charlie insisted on getting your bags. Stretching, you tried to get rid of the soreness in your back, your eyes nearly falling shut.

Charlie opened the doors, giving you a tired smile. “Let's get to bed. Tomorrow we rise early!” you groaned, making him chuckle. Standing up, you walked over to him, your arms wrapping around his familiar frame. He was stroking your head, giving it a kiss before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

In the meanwhile you changed your clothes, changing from some jeans and one of his hoodies to sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

You gave him a hasty kiss as he came out of the bathroom, smelling the mint of the toothpaste still lingering on his lips. After you washed your face and brushed your teeth, you let yourself fall into the bed. His arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

“Thank you.” Turning around to face him, you traced his features with your fingertips “For what?”

“Coming on this drive with me. You could have easily convinced me to fly, you know.”

“I know mon amour.” you said, looking into his eyes, as you tried your best to keep yours open. You left several kisses on his bare shoulders until your lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and then nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pecking it several times before stopping.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Good night babe. Love you more.”

The next morning came way too fast and you didn't want to move out of his comfortable and safe arms into the cold car, but you had to. The sunrise hadn't even begun, the sky still a dark blue, when the two of you drove into the Dunkin drive through, to get you a coffee and a donut. You had to have something sweet in the mornings.

“Actually, I saw a little restaurant on the way here that should have takeaway, do you mind if we take a quick stop?” you shook your head, trying hard not to fall asleep again. An idea ignited in your head and you sat up straighter. “What if we go live while you drive? Maybe I'll be more awake or I'll have stuff to read.” you requested, looking at your boyfriend with a slight pout.

“Sure thing. I'll bet they'll love it.” Smiling, you grabbed his phone from his hand and went into Instagram.

“Hey Char and y/n here.” you introduced while trying to balance the phone on the dashboard “Its freaking early and I’m nearly falling asleep so I thought you guys could entertain me a bit. Mister Gillespie over here isn't as interesting as you guys.” he pouted into the camera, you leaned forward quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The chat was already flooding with hey’s and questions about your relationship and where you were going.

“Is it true that you sometimes talk french to Charlie?” you read from the chat, your eyes widening a little in surprise.

“Sometimes. I mean my french isn't the best but growing up in Europe, I picked up some stuff.”

“She’s just being humble, she understands a lot and her accent is hella cute.” Charlie piped in, pulling into the drive through he mentioned earlier. “Je vois que tu comprends." He said to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You got lost in his eyes for a second before responding. “Of course I understand babe!” he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly while chuckling.

“OMG that was just so cute!” you read out loud from the chat. Blushing slightly, you giggled, “He loves to do stuff like that when he’s driving. Always showing affection in one way or the other.”

“Uhm next question...What are you two doing so early? Someone asks.” with an raised eyebrow you look over to your boyfriend “I think you can answer this.” you turned the camera a bit so he was more in frame. “We're going to Chicoago, Chigacoooo.” he quoted the iconic Victorious scene, his eyes scanning the road before him.

He got himself a cheese thing of some sort, you couldn't quite make out what it was and parked on the side of the road, getting his food ready in front of him.

He bit into his cheese thing while you sipped on your coffee conversing with the chat. Just earlier you had begged for music suggestions, telling them to send their best road trip songs. Charlie looked really good right now, his hair was pulled together in a bun and he was wearing a blue shirt. You on the other hand had your hair in a top bun and the same hoodie from yesterday, a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. You just wanted to ask if you could have a bite, when he got cheese all over his chin.

He laughed as he looked over to you. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward in your seat. Your face mere inches away from his, you could feel his breath on your face. You stuck out your tongue and licked the cheese away, your eyes never leaving his.

Without giving it a second thought, you settled back into a comfortable position and took a sip from your coffee with a prominent smirk on your face. Leaving a dumbfounded Charlie and a screaming chat.

Not even an hour later the clip of you licking his chin, in maybe a bit of a too sexual way, went viral in the community.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp

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fangirlings-things · 4 years

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GREY'S ANATOMY PREFERENCE: THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY ARE IN LOVE WITH YOU

A/N: I've been rewatching grey's and fell in love with the characters all over again. I'm thinking about doing a female edition to this so let me know what you guys think 💖

Derek Shepherd → he would realize he loved you when he found you on an on call room, crying because of a patient’s diagnosis. You had gotten too close to that case, too involved even though he had warned you not to. To see you in such pain over someone else’s future, your compassion and the amount of care you showed to all of your patients, it made him see just how much he himself cared about you. How much he wanted to be the one by your side to comfort you when you needed.

“It’s so unfair, Derek. So unfair” you tried to contain your sobs, as he sat by your side at the floor, leaning his back against the bed. He had locked the door behind him, knowing you wouldn’t want anyone to see you like that. “She’s had cancer four times. Her children won’t come to visit. Her husband died years ago. She’s going to die all alone and there’s nothing I can do about it”

“Come here” he passed one of his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close, until you laid your head on his shoulder and he could hug you tightly. “She’s not going to be alone. You and I, we’ll be here for her” he kissed the top of your head, coming to terms with his feelings at last. “You and I” he mumbled, sighting.

Mark Sloan → he would realize he loved you when after a long shift, he saw you drinking at Joe’s with your closest friends. From across the bar he heard you laugh and tell jokes, having real fun. That with the talent you showed at the hospital everyday would make him see that you were an amazing person, someone he would really like to be together with. Someone he could love deeply.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked while approaching the table you were on, having just gotten the courage to do so, as your friends had just left together. He couldn’t help but find beautiful the surprised look on your face.

You pointed to the said seat with your right hand, that held the drink. “What do I owe the pleasure, Doctor Sloan?” the small smile on your lips got to him.

“I thought you could use some company” he shrugged, sitting down and asking two more drinks to be delivered. His eyes were intensely focused on yours. “And please, call me Mark”

Alex Karev → he would figure out his feelings for you because of a fight you two have. You were colleagues working on the same case and the fight would happen at the hospital, arguing in the corridors loudly enough for the nurses and other doctors around to have to come near and calm you both down. To see your determination, your fierceness in fighting him for what you thought was right, made him see how much of a strong person you were and it awakened things in him.

“You’re such a child! Did you know that, Alex Karev?” you shout at him, your fierce look locked in his eyes as you did so.

“And you're stupid, seems like we’re even” he had a smile on his lips and his hands on his waist, and the tone on his voice made your roll your eyes and turn around to leave. You could feel the eyes of all the members of the staff on you both. “So you’re walking away now? That’s mature” he spoke up.

“When you decide to see reason, page me” you said, without turning around. Your confidence made him actually laugh.

Jackson Avery → he would realize he was in love with you when you stood up to him during a patient’s case, where he was making a mistake on purpose in a diagnosis, to test the interns and no one else in your class had the nerve to tell him so. You faced him in front of everyone else, with politeness and yet, confidence. He was so admired and proud of your attitude, that he later went to compliment you personally in private.

“It was a good thing, what you did back there” he said with a little smile on his lips, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, since he had ended his shift and was about to leave. “None of the others dared to say anything, but you did”

“I had to” you looked down at your feet, embarrassed for receiving such a compliment from an attending. “The others wouldn’t say anything, so I couldn’t let the patient at risk just because you’re my boss”

“And that is why you’re scrubbing in with me tomorrow” he said, the smile on his lips getting bigger because of your words.

“Really? Thank you, doctor Avery!” you smiled brightly at him, finally looking him in the eye, letting your embarrassment aside.

“Perhaps after the surgery, I could take you to dinner” the plastic surgeon continued, and your eyes widened at that. Jackson Avery couldn’t just have asked you out. He chuckled by your expression, licking his lips for a brief moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N)” he turned around, and then walked away.

Owen Hunt → he would realize he had feelings for you that went beyond friendship when he saw you speaking up to a patient that had been disrespecting you. He would notice your educated arguing, the patience and your responsibility and that would make him respect you even more. Afterwards, he would see how you had been hurt by the patients words though, and the pain it caused him would make him notice just how much and strongly he really liked you.

“It was quite rough in there” he got close to you in the corridor, leaning his back against the wall as yourself did. “You did good, in defending yourself”

“I had to” you sighted, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m doing my job just like everyone else here, I don’t deserve to be treated like that when all I’m doing is trying to help”

“Of course you didn’t deserve that. Some people they’re just…” Owen sighted, shrugging slightly.

“Stupid” you completed.

He chuckled, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it lightly. “Yes, stupid. Don’t let them get to you”

Atticus Lincoln → he would realize how he felt about you as you two were scrubbing into a long surgery together, washing your hands side by side and you would admit to be going through a rough time in your personal life, outside the hospital. The fact that you trusted him enough to tell him that, made him happy and proud of himself. He loved the idea of being close to you, of making you feel good and that’s what he intended to do.

“If you want, we could do something together tonight” he suggested, looking at you with warmth in his bright eyes. “Maybe watch a game, order some food or grab some drinks if you prefer”

You smiled at him, continuing to wash your hands. “I would love that, Link. Any of those things would be really great”

“Great” he replied, averting his eyes from yours as he could feel his cheeks burning a little. The fact that you would love those things with him made his day. “That’s really great”

As you two walked into the OR, all he wanted was the end of that shift so that he could spend time with you.

Andrew Deluca → he would notice he had feelings for you when he has a nervous breakdown after a 48 hour shift, unstoppably trying to find a diagnosis for his patient, but having no success. You were the one who helped him, who made him eat and stood by him when others judged him for not being himself. You understood that he wanted to help, to be useful. And that meant the world to him.

“I-I have to find something, anything. I have to figure out what’s happening, (Y/N)” he stumbled on his words, hands on his hair as he took deep breaths, eyes running around the room as he felt like he was going to suffocate.

“Andrew, look at me” you got his hands in yours and made him look deeply into your eyes, smiling to try to give him some comfort. You hated to see him like that, so nervous. “We’re going to figure out what’s wrong. I'll help you. I’m here for you”

“Thank you, thank you” he passed his arms around you and hugged you tightly. You could feel his breath on your neck as you tightly hugged him back. He silently promised himself that after that craziness ended, he would tell you how he felt.

Nathan Riggs → he would realize he had feelings for you when he would overhear you saying to Jackson that you felt slightly jealous of Meredith because of him. Because he had been asking her out. It shocked him, to know you felt that way. He had always thought you considered him like nothing more than a friend. But to know that you in fact wanted to go out with him, to know that you had interest, it changed everything.

“I overheard you speaking with Jackson” he said, when you entered the on call room he had just paged you to. Your eyes widened and you wanted to run away and he continued to speak. “You said you were jealous of Meredith”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that” you sighted heavily, embarrassment filling your whole being.

“I’m glad I did, though” he walked towards you, standing now just a few steps away. His proximity made a chill run through your spine. “Do you want to go out with me, (Y/N)?”

You smiled to yourself, still not believing that was actually happening. “You know I do”

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headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

Love, Owen. | OWEN PATRICK JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Hi, I have a request for Owen! He's in love with Y/N but despite all his flirty comments, she's still oblivious, and he gets mad when one day she told him that she have a date. Please and thank you x”

PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem! reader

WARNING(s): angst, owen being a dumbass, some language, fluffy ending

WORD(s): 3,343

SUMMARY: in which y/n is engaged, but owen is hopelessly in love with her.

A/N: took a little creative liberty here hehe :3

Owen taps his foot anxiously, and his roommate and best friend, Charlie, gives him a dirty look. “Can you stop that? I’m trying to text my sister.”

“Sorry. I just feel anxious.” He admits, looking down at the grey tiles of Vancouver International airport.

Charlie’s voice softens. “Why?”

“I just haven’t seen her in so long and I’m scared if things are too… weird, or different.”

“Hey, breathe, okay? She’s been your best friend for how long?” Charlie lays a hand on his shoulder.

“Since we were five, so fourteen years.”

“I can promise you that nothing will change, okay, buddy? It’s gonna be fine.”

Owen nods, looking at the red, neon ‘Arrivals’ sign atop his head. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and his eyes linger on his lock screen, that is a picture of him and the person he is currently waiting for – Y/N, his best friend. He smiles at the picture – it’s them on her last birthday, and she is grinning, wearing a princess tiara and red, heart sunglasses, while he’s pouting, with a birthday cap atop his head, as she squishes his cheeks.

He feels a tap on his back, and he turns around, his heart racing, fully expecting to see her, after two long months.

But it’s Charlie, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A disappointed sigh escapes Owen, and he says, “What are you doing?”

His friend shrugs and says, “Behind you.”

He turns around again, and finally spots her, standing a couple feet away – and for a moment, his world tilts on its axis, and it’s just him and Y/N. Warmth courses through his veins, as his body goes on autopilot and he starts taking long strides towards her. She seems to also have frozen in time, but when she sees Owen, she runs, and jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, and her arms around his neck.

The momentum shocks him, but he quickly recovers and holds her steady against his body. It’s like his brain is lagging – but he feels like he’s home when her fruity smell overpowers his senses.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Owen whispers, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. He feels the vibrations of her laugh roll into his body as she says, “I have so much to tell you.”

He slowly puts her down, running his hands along the length of her back. Y/N takes a step back from him, and grins, and Owen’s sure that his heart melted, just a little.

He knows that the fact that he’s in love with her is hopeless, pointless, even. But he can’t help it – how could he? Y/N is his other half, his best friend, his family. She is the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and she is as sweet as sugar. She sees good in every human being, no matter how much they’ve hurt her – and has a spark inside her, that can put all the fires in the world to shame. She knows him like the back of her hand, and has always been there for him, with no expectations.

So, it was quite inevitable that he fell in love with her.

She reaches a hand forward, and combs Owen’s hair with it. “Your hair’s a mess, as usual.”

“That’s because I didn’t have you to fix it.” He replies cheekily, but Y/N just laughs.

“Your mother told me to remind you to do your laundry.”

He nods. “Noted. Also, did I mention that somehow you’re a hundred times more beautiful than the last time that I saw you?”

“Pfft. Where’s Charlie?” She says, and Owen’s unsure whether she is oblivious to or ignores his blatant flirting. It’s not like it has been subtle – he loves her so much that it’s impossible for him to not give signs at this point.

“Right here. Loving all the attention that you’re giving me, kiddo.” Charlie says, walking up to them.

She laughs breezily, hugging him. “I’m just two years younger than you, dude.”

“I know – holy shit, Y/N, is that an engagement ring?” Charlie’s eyes widen and Owen feels his heartbeat race. “What?”

He looks at his best friend, and she bites her lower lip. “That’s what I’m here to tell you.”

Owen takes a step back from their little circle, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, you’re not here because you missed me, but because you got engaged to some – some dude?”

“No! No, that was phrased wrong. No, that’s not it.” She mumbles the last part, but he’s not convinced. “It’s not some dude, Owen – Louis asked me to marry me.”

“Louis? The guy you’ve been dating for three months?!”

“But I’ve known him for a year!”

Owen shakes his head. He absolutely hates Louis. To be honest, he hates any and every boy that shows an interest in Y/N, and that’s a lot of people – and who can blame them, right? But she’s always turned down those boys, choosing to have a movie marathon with Owen instead. But Louis – he goes to college with her, and even though he hates to admit it, they are quite alike – they’re both brilliant and ambitious.

That’s why Owen’s always felt insecure ever since she said that he had asked her out – because how could Y/N choose him over perfect Louis? Louis whose part British, part French, is obsessed with physics just as much as Y/N is, who is tall, and handsome, who volunteers at homeless centres on his weekends, and is on the soccer team?

When they went on their first date, he didn’t think much of it. She’s always going on dates, something about living life to the fullest, and making as many connections as possible. He didn’t think that anything would come out of it, because it never does. Sure, he wishes that he’s the one that she goes with on those dates, but at least, nothing serious ever happens on them. The last serious relationship she had was during their senior year, which was also when Owen had realised that he is in love with her.

But now, he feels a heart crushing weight, the weight of his secret, because he never, ever thought that it would go this far.

“You’re making a huge mistake.” He mutters and Y/N’s brows furrow.

“Owen, please, you’re my best friend. You’re supposed to support me no matter what.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t support you when you’re throwing your entire life down the drain.”

“You never support me. You didn’t support me in high school, and you don’t support me now.”

“Your high school boyfriend wanted you in the kitchen with a dinner plate and refused to let you go to Stanford.”

“That is not the point. The point is, you’re supposed to have my back. But I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. You never call me – I get it, O, you’re busy with your life – and I’m so happy for you, you know that I am, but I didn’t realize that being an actor would mean that we wouldn’t even be friends anymore.”

Owen pauses. It’s true, he has been ignoring her. But, in his defence, whenever they would talk, Louis was around. He’s always around. It made Owen feel pure, blind hatred because he is everything that Owen is insecure about.

“That’s your fault.”

She raises her brows. “Really? How?”

“Because all you talk about is Louis!” He lies. “We all know that he isn’t gonna last, Y/N.”

Her jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t know how to be in a relationship. That’s why none of them last. You’re just gonna leave him and break his heart like all the other guys.” He says, bitterly. At this point, words are just flowing out of his mouth – almost as if some imaginary faucet in his brain has been turned on.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, O.” She looks around, and Owen knows her so well that he knows that she is trying to hide the fact that she might start crying.

Then, before he can stop himself, years of suppressed feelings rise. “I know you, Y/N. You think you’re better than anyone, but, in reality, you’re the worst. You treat people as if they’re nothing and you never, ever care about what others feel. You don’t care about anything – me, Louis or anyone.”

A single tear slides down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away, and Owen finally catches a sight of her ring – a single, beautiful, big diamond on a silver ring. Simple, just as she likes.

That makes him even more mad, and he says, “You were supposed to be my best friend – but right now I can’t even look at you, Y/N.”

His voice cracks when he says her name.

“Is that what you think of me?” She finally says, her voice hoarse. Just speaking frees more tears from her eyes, and Owen’s heart breaks, but he can’t stop.

He nods, and she chokes back a sob.

“Owen, you don’t mean that.” Charlie whispers softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Owen forgot that he was here, and his throat tightens. He hates the fact that she’s friends with all his friends, and they love her as much as they love him.

“I – I – I’m gonna stay somewhere else. Since you can’t, you know, even look at me.” She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and Owen stops himself from reaching forward and holding her. He hates himself so much, right now – he said all those things that he didn’t mean, things that are completely false, just because he’s jealous. He hates the fact that his best friend is crying in front of him, and he has to look away because of his pride.

“Hey, Y/N, that’s nonsense –” Charlie starts but Y/N raises a hand and says, “Please, Charlie. I – I can’t stand here and take this shit. I’m just… just gonna go.” She hooks a finger on her trolley, and drags it behind her, walking toward the exit.

As he watches her go, Owen feels the heaviness in his chest return, like a stone. He feels his throat tighten, and his vision blur, while his mind races – he tries to catch a thought, but they’re all messy and he doesn’t know what to think. He feels like he’s trapped, like someone has put a plastic bag over his head, and he feels like there’s no air around.

He is faintly aware of Charlie holding him, and whispering, “O, you’re having a panic attack.”

***

“Owen? Are you alright?” Savannah asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He nods. “Absolutely.”

Madison plops on the couch beside him, in the break room. “Where’s Y/N? Wasn’t she supposed to come here yesterday?”

Owen watches Savannah’s eyes widen as shakes her head toward Madison, who looks completely oblivious.

“She… Uh, she… we had a fight, and she went to stay somewhere else.” He says, still reeling from yesterday’s events.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do. After his panic attack at the airport, Charlie took him home and let him stay under his covers for the rest of the day, informing everyone on set that he had a bad cold and couldn’t make it. After a while, Savannah was there with bags of Chinese food for Owen and when he tried to eat, he remembered the fact that Chinese cuisine is Y/N’s favorite, and their go-to whenever they ordered take out.

He told Charlie and Savannah that he absolutely hated himself, and that he was a horrible person, and everything that he said to Y/N were things that he is. He knows that what he said was wrong, and that there is no excuse for it, and not meaning them would not make him forget how broken his best friend looked.

He’s spent all of today working with Booboo, avoiding Charlie and Savannah because he can’t stand the pity in their eyes for him.

“You know, you should just apologize to her.” Savannah says, softly.

He shakes his head. “She hates me. I know that. I know what I said is unforgivable.”

“Owen, I’m a hundred percent sure that she could never hate you. I’ve known her for so long, so trust me on this.”

“Well, I’ve known her longer, so trust me on this.”

He lies on the couch he was sitting on and pulls out his headphones from his pocket.

“Owen, come on –”

“Just let me cry, Savannah. It’s what I deserve.”

“That’s enough, Joyner. Get up.” Charlie says, walking up from behind them.

“Leave me alone, Charlie.”

“No. This is not you, all right?”

“Maybe it is.”

Charlie slaps him.

“Dude! That hurt!”

“That’s the point. Now come on, get up. You can either feel sorry for yourself and wallow in self pity for the rest of your life, or you can go to your best friend and apologize to her because you were a dick and tell her how you really feel and how you were jealous.”

“She doesn’t –”

Charlie slaps him again.

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“I’m so tired of seeing you mope. Mads, push him off the couch.”

Madison scoffs. “I’m not gonna – OK, fine, don’t look at me like, Charlie, you’re so scary when you’re mad.” She grabs a handful of Owen’s shirt and drags him, but he gets up himself.

“OK, fine! But I don’t know where she’s staying!”

“Savannah will take care of that.”

She nods. “I will. Just fix him, Charlie, okay? He looks fucking homeless.”

“Hey!”

***

Owen raises his fist above the white door in the white hallway of the very white hotel Y/N’s staying at. He pauses, taking a deep breath, but it’s hard because he’s feeling very anxious, and the white surroundings are making him lose it a little.

He closes his eyes and builds up his courage. It’s hard because the person that usually makes him calm is the one making him nervous right now. Yet, he inhales a lungful of air, and knocks on the door.

Knock’s not the correct word. He literally bangs on the door, the frustration rolling off of him in waves. His heart races in anticipation when he hears footsteps on the other side of the door which comes to a stop and Owen knows she’s checking the door hole, and wonders whether she’ll open the door now that she’s seen him.

She does, and a little hope rises in his chest, and he thinks, or rather prays, that she doesn’t hate him. The door swings open, and she stands there, wearing a pink onesie and a nonchalant expression.

“What do you want?” She asks, bitterly.

“Everything’s so white, Y/N. How are you staying here?” He blurts out.

She sighs, and proceeds to close the door, but Owen slides in, raising his hands. “Y/N. Please. Can I tell you something?”

“Isn’t that all you’ve been doing since yesterday?” She snaps, closing the door behind him, and brushing by him during the action. Owen feels a flutter in his stomach at that.

“I deserve that.” He admits, looking down at his shoes. “But please. Let me explain.”

She walks away from him. “No. This time I’m talking.”

She stares at him determinedly, and Owen gulps.

“Yesterday – it was just another example of you… exploiting my weakness.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “You… I…” She trails off, and that determination fades from her eyes.

At that moment, Owen notices her left hand, or rather the absence of a ring there.

“Y/N, where’s your ring?”

She smiles, sadly. “Don’t you understand? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You disapproved, and I broke it off! I broke it off with a perfectly good guy, and I broke his heart, Owen. Like you said I would. Like I’ve done to every other guy that was in my life.”

She’s going too fast, he thinks. Finally, he says, “I – I don’t understand…”

“Of course, you don’t! You never have and you never will! It’s you, Owen. You’re my weakness. You disapproved, and I… I called off the wedding. You weren’t completely right, Owen… I mean, I don’t care about Louis, about any other guy – but I care about you. I care about you the most, and that’s why I can never be in a relationship, and I never can get married. Your opinion, you mean more to me than anyone else, and it’s why I’ve spent the entirety of yesterday crying instead of doing anything!”

Owen’s lips part, and he’s too scared to make anything out of Y/N’s words, because this time, he wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment that usually comes after feeling hope about them.

“Owen… I’m in love with you, and it’s breaking me inside.”

Right now, Y/N’s face is damp with tears, but he’s frozen. He’s been waiting, waiting, waiting to hear those words and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of this moment, but now that it’s happening, he doesn’t know what to do. Y/N scoffs. “Of course. Just… just see yourself out, okay?”

She turns around, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and her movement is what breaks Owen out of his trance. He takes long strides towards her, and grabs her wrist, and the contact of her cold skin on his warm skin seems to shock the both of them.

They stand mere millimetres apart, and finally Owen speaks, “Y/N. I was jealous yesterday.”

Her eyebrows shoot upwards, and he continues, “I mean, Louis’ perfect! He makes me feel so insecure, because he’s clearly the better choice out of the two of us. Plus, you’ve always ignored my flirting, so I thought –”

“Flirting? When?!” She asks.

He loses it a little. “All the time! Dude! You’re the only person with whom I flirt! Like, I can’t even help it, it just happens –”

“Are you saying that I’ve been oblivious –”

“I thought – okay, never mind. Anyway. That doesn’t excuse what I said last day. I’m incredibly sorry, Y/N. I hope you know that I didn’t mean a single word that I said, and you’re the most caring person in my life, all right? You… you’ve always gone out of your way to be kind, and what I said was not true and not okay at all. I’m sorry. It was just years of frustration.”

“Well, if you hadn’t been so daft, and said something earlier –”

“I could say the same about you – okay, that’s not the point. The point is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yesterday, I’m sorry for ignoring you all these months because I was insecure –”

“You ignored me because you were insecure about Louis? Clearly, you’re the superior person in my life.”

“Y/N, have you seen his hair and his accent? Clearly not.”

“Well, you do have a point. Still, you’re clearly more important to me.”

Owen can feel her breath on his skin now. “I always do. Y/N. I’m in love with you, too. I’m also sorry that I’ve been an idiot –”

“Well, in your defence, we’ve both been idiots.”

He smiles at her and raises his right hand to caress the side of her face. She leans into the touch, closing her eyes for a second.

“Say it again.” He whispers.

“What?”

“That you love me too.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you, Ow –”

He doesn’t let her finish, but instead cups her face with both of his hands, and presses his lips to hers, the familiar, homely sensation arising, yet again. She tastes like chocolate and everything sweet in the world. She smiles into the kiss, and when they pull apart for air, she whispers, “Never interrupt me like that again.”

He grins, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheek. “Noted. And Y/N?”

She hums in question, her eyes shining like stars.

“I love you.”

She smiles, and it lights up his world.

jatp requests open <3 as always, feedback is appreciated!

242 notes · View notes

dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

Never Enough | Owen Patrick Joyner

Request: Can you please write a piece with owen maybe a little angsty like she doesn’t think she’s good enough for him so she distanced herself from him but he catches on and reassures her 🥺

Author’s note: I absolutely sobbed writing this. I really did need a sad fic to cry it out today, so thanks for requesting this! I hope you like it :)

Pairing: Owen Joyner x reader

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, self-doubt, lots of crying

Words: 3,275

You had been feeling terrible the past few weeks. There was no reason at all to feel like this besides maybe your boyfriend, Owen, being in Vancouver filming for Julie and The Phantoms while you were still stuck in Norman, Oklahoma. But other than that, there was no reason for you to feel like this. And still, you felt like crap. It was almost as if something heavy was pressing down on your chest and you could just feel something was off. Something wasn’t right.

You had called Owen a few times, in tears, sobbing about how terribly you felt and how everything just felt wrong. He comforted you as well as he could through a phone screen and sang you to sleep almost every night. But he still felt bad for leaving you behind in Oklahoma. That’s why he decided to book you a ticket to Vancouver, so you could come stay with him and Charlie, and join them on set. He knew you could take a few days off of work or do some stuff remotely, plus he was convinced it would really make you feel better.

When the weekend finally came around, you packed your bags and hopped on a plane to Vancouver. You were finally going to see your boyfriend again after months of not seeing each other, and the thought alone made you feel a little better already.

The second you spotted the mop of blonde hair, your heart leapt as did your feet in the run up to him. Launching yourself into his arms, you felt like you could finally breathe again. And with that exhale, came the tears again.

“Why are you crying, Baby?” he mumbled into your hair as he held you as close to him as possible. You pushed yourself off him to look at his face and wipe away your tears, chuckling.

“It’s happy tears, I promise. Just… I missed you so much,” you replied. Owen’s expression turned from worried into endeared as he looked at you. He grabbed your face in his hands, his thumbs helping you wipe away the tears.

“Aw, I missed you too, Little One. Let’s get home now, shall we?” You nodded your head, and Owen’s hands dropped from your face, one trailing down to grab your hand, the other your suitcase. With hands intertwined, the two of you exited the airport and made your way to the car.

Though, there was still this gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach, you knew it was going to get better the more time you’d spend with Owen. You pinned the anxious feeling you still had to the fact you needed more of Owen in your day after having spent so long without.

“Here you go, Little One,” he said as he pushed the door to his and Charlie’s apartment open, letting you go inside first. With Owen trailing behind you, you stepped into the place, and were immediately met with a cinnamon-y scent. You grew more and more confused and curious as you walked further into the living room, finding Charlie in the open-plan kitchen, leaning his elbows on the counter as he scrolled through his phone. A light lit up the oven, showing a tray of cinnamon rolls baking, your very favorite.

“Gorgeous, did you bake for me?” you asked, looking up at Owen. Your words made Charlie look up from his phone, a smile finding its way to his lips upon seeing you.

“We did,” he corrected you while walking towards the two of you. “Welcome to Vancouver, y/n,” he greeted and took you in for a hug as Owen shut the door and took your suitcase into the living room. “How was your flight?” He pulled away from you and made his way to Owen with you.

“Good, but can we not just glace over the fact that the two of you baked cinnamon rolls?!” You didn’t peg either of the boys to be bakers. You knew for a fact Owen wasn’t the greatest baker as the one time you baked together, he completely ruined the dough by adding egg whites to it when the eggs had to be seperated.

“Charlie is actually a pretty decent baker,” Owen said with a smile and plopped down on the sofa, patting the space beside him. You inhaled deeply, the faint scent of burning reaching your nostrils. Trying your hardest to withhold a laugh, you turned to Charlie.

“Right, that’s why they’re nearly burning in the oven,” you said sarcastically. The panicked look on Charlie’s face was the best thing you’ve ever witnessed. His eyes grew wide before he sprinted to the kitchen, cursing and panicking, and getting the cinnamon rolls out.

“They’re good! They’re good!” he shouted as he placed the tray onto the counter. “Wanna come and drizzle them with some of that white stuff?” You bit back a laugh at the innuendo before walking over to Charlie and helping him out with the royal icing.

You could already feel the anxiety was slowly washing away. All you needed was these two himbos and a couple of cinnamon rolls, and you’d feel a million times better.

The three of you spent that night, cuddled up on the sofa, eating cinnamon rolls, talking and watching a ton of movies together. It kind of felt like coming home in a way. Because Owen was your home. Even though you’d always thought it was kind of cliché when people said “home is in your arms” but you couldn’t deny that it was true. Home was in Owen’s arms with his heartbeat softly thumping against your cheek as you laid on his chest.

Owen had been your boyfriend since the seventh grade. You’d been friends before that since you lived on the same street and went to the same school. You remembered the first day of seeing him move in a few houses down in the calm cul-de-sac you lived in. Ever since that day, the calm cul-de-sac wasn’t quite as calm anymore. He’d always ask for you to come and play with him whenever he was bored -- which was a lot, and, when you got older that kindly asking to come and play, turned into calling you in the middle of the night to sneak out and go on an adventure with him.

He never really asked you out. At your thirteenth birthday party, when everyone had left and Owen was allowed to stay over, he just kind of kissed you on the lips and told you he liked you. That’s how you kind of established you were boyfriend and girlfriend, which sounded hilarious to you when you remembered it later.

When Owen went off to L.A. to pursue his acting career, you’d kind of broke up, thinking it would be easier that way, but when you turned seventeen and he came back to Norman, OK for a while, the both of you realized you were actually in love with each other. It wasn’t that cute Middle School crush anymore. And now, you were still very much in love at 19 years old. You just knew this was going to be it. This is the guy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Owen was peak husband material.

Owen and Charlie took you to set the next day. You had already met all of them when you came to visit him at bootcamp in the summer. Unlike what you expected, everyone remembered you and was happy to see you again.

“We should all go to dinner together tonight!” Savannah exclaimed excitedly. She was the first one you met years ago when Owen was on the Nickelodeon show Knight Squad. You immediately clicked with the bubbly personality that is Savannah Lee May. You just loved how she came bouncing up to you when you visited them on set to introduce herself. Add to that the utter beauty and kind-heartedness, and you’ve got yourself a new best friend. The two of you FaceTimed regularly and texted daily, it almost made Owen jealous.

But now that you were seeing him on set with all these amazingly talented people that became his best friends, you were getting slightly jealous. Not the ‘one of you is going to steal my boyfriend away’, but the gnawing jealousy when you realize he’s built up this entire new life outside of Norman, outside of you. Even if you weren’t here, he’d still be this happy.

You wished you could shake the anxiety over the jealous feeling in your stomach, but you were unable to. All day long, you trailed behind the group, absently laughing along whenever the others did and just watching from the sidelines as Owen interacted with all these people. Even at dinner, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Owen started to notice how you’d quieted down during the day, and at dinner, he leaned into you and asked, “Hey, you okay, Little One?” in your ear. Chills ran down your spine at his hot breath blowing in your hair.

“Yeah, just a little tired, is all,” you replied and offered him a half-hearted smile. It didn’t convince Owen at all, but decided not to ask any further. Your relationship had always been built up of open communication and mutual trust. So, now he had to trust you would talk to him if something was really bothering you. But how do you tell someone you hate seeing him have a life beside you. That’s just plain selfish.

The next day, you decided to stay at the apartment instead of going to work with Owen. You had a few mails to catch up on and could keep up with some work here, anyway. Though you knew you weren’t going to do much of that.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Owen asked once more as you were settled on the couch with your laptop in your lap, ready to pretend to work. As you looked up at him, he was pouting and had a worried expression on his face. You were certain he knew work wasn’t the only reason you wanted to stay home for the day.

“Yeah, there’s just a few things I need to do,” you lied, shooting him your most convincing smile. Charlie and Owen exchanged glances, both of them knowing you weren’t being 100% truthful. The latter sighed deeply before making his way towards you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Have a good day at work, Gorgeous,” you said to him with all the excitement you could muster up to sound convincing.

“Yeah, you too, Little One,” he mumbled and left the living room.

“Goodbye, y/n!” Charlie shouted with a wave while Owen ushered him out the door. A small smile fought his way to your lips at the interaction between the two. They really were the best of friends.

“Bye, Charlie!” you shouted back.

The silence fell over the apartment as well as a heavy weight on your shoulders. You felt terrible for feeling this way. You knew you should be happy for Owen that he had so many amazing friends around him and that he loved his work so much. But you couldn’t help but feel sad about it too. The more he integrated here in Vancouver with all these amazing people, the more he let go of Norman, Oklahoma. The more he let go of you.

Tears pricked in your eyes as the thoughts raced through your mind. You could keep them at bay for a while until the image of Owen laughing at something Madi had said flooded your mind and pushed the tears out. You placed your laptop on the coffee table and grabbed a pillow, hugging it close to you as sobs raked through your body. There was no good reason for you to feel this way, but you still did. You felt bad for feeling this jealous of friends of Owen, of your friends. It truly just felt like he was letting go of you and his life in Norman, and you didn’t know how to handle that. You didn’t know how to handle losing someone you’ve had in your life for such a long time.

By the time the boys came home, you had stopped crying and were half paying attention to a movie you’d found on Netflix. None of the work you actually did want to do had been done, and you’d even forgotten to eat. Which you only realized when the aromatic smell of pizza filled up the apartment.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” Owen greeted as he walked into the living room. When his eyes fell on the little ball of a mess you were, his demeanor changed entirely. He went from somewhat cheerful into full-blown concern. “Are you alright?” he asked, placing the boxes of pizza on the dining table before walking up to you. You sat up from your previously sprawled out position at once, your heart breaking as a million thoughts flew through your mind. You were upset with him for building up something incredibly for himself beside you, and even more upset at yourself because you were upset at him.

“Don’t,” you snapped curtly, holding your hand up, “Take another step because I will break.” Owen swallowed visibly as he froze in the middle of the living room. He stuttered and stumbled over words of confusion and worry. “I can’t do this anymore, Owen.” You rubbed your hands over your face before looking up at him again. The look on his face screamed confusion. He had no clue what he’d done wrong or what had happened for you to suddenly think that.

“What are you talking about, y/n?” His voice cracked as he choked back tears, breaking your heart even more. You hated yourself for feeling this way, but you just couldn’t handle it. You didn’t know how to handle it.

“You, having a life I don’t belong in…” The words came out in a whisper. You barely even dared to speak your thoughts out loud. You were very aware that this was all crazy talk, but this was the only way to save the relationship from becoming toxic.

“What do you mean, Little One? You do belong in my life, I--” He shut up when you held your hand up to make him stop before you got up from the couch and walked towards the bedroom you’d shared with him for the past two nights. The place you’d fallen asleep in, feeling so safe and happy. Now it just felt cold and daunting.

“I’ve booked a ticket back home,” you choked on fresh tears as you walked into the bedroom. Owen’s loud voice bouncing off the walls made you stop in the doorway, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you listened but didn’t look at him.

“No! No, y/n! You don’t get to just walk away without properly explaining what I’ve done wrong!” You waited a few beats after the last words had rolled off his lips, gathering all your courage before turning around to face him. You regretted that action immediately as the first thing you saw were the hot tears rolling over Owen’s cheeks.

“Look at your life, Owen. You got all these friends and an amazing job in a completely different country and I can’t help but feel left out, like I’ll never be enough. I feel like you’ve built this entire life away from Norman, Oklahoma. Away from me. And I know -- I know I shouldn’t feel like this and I hate myself for feeling like this but I can’t…” you took a shaky breath, “I just can’t pretend I don’t feel it and I can’t pretend for the sake of our relationship -- for your sake -- that I don’t feel it. I just, I can’t, Owen…”

Owen grew completely silent at your words, his heart slowing down as it broke. He thought he had everything in life. The perfect job, the perfect friends, the perfect significant other. And now everything just seemed to crumble down right in front of him. It just all seemed so perfectly balanced out with you being friends with his friends. He was completely mistaken. He knew something was wrong when you’d distanced yourself so much the day before and why you didn’t come with them to work.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered before turning around again to grab your stuff, but once again, you were stopped. Not by his voice this time, but by his hand grabbing your wrist and forcing you to turn around.

“Please, y/n, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking ever so softly. Tears clouded your vision as you looked at him apologetically. “No, baby, no, please don’t do this. I can’t-- I can’t live without you. It’s because of you I managed to come this far with this job. It’s thanks to you I even dared to do this audition because you believed in me. I wouldn’t have even tried for Alex if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Please, baby. Everyone in the cast and crew loves you, y/n, I promise you. Charlie told me earlier he wanted to ask you to live with us,” you looked up at Charlie, who had retreated in the kitchen, chewing on a slice of pizza as he listened with tears glistening in his eyes. “Savannah has loved you since you met when we did Knight Squad. Madi and Jadah see you as a big sister, and Jeremy just loves joking around with you,... They all love you so, so much, baby. Kenny! Kenny even asked where you were today.” Owen sniffled before taking another deep breath. “I can’t do this without you, y/n, please, don’t leave me. I love you so, so much.” The both of you dissolved into sobs as he sunk onto the floor on his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against your stomach. He pleaded and begged, and your heart broke into a thousand pieces seeing him like this.

“Please, y/n,” you suddenly heard from the kitchen. When you looked up, you found Charlie walking closer with tears running down his cheeks. “Just stay… You belong here. With Owen, with all of us. We love you so much, we don’t want you to leave, ever.” Another sob raked through your body as fresh tears escaped your eyes. You finally let your hands fall on Owen’s head before kneeling down in front of him, your hands sliding down to his cheeks.

“I am sorry for feeling this way, Owen, I--I love you so much,” you whispered, sniffling. Owen searched your eyes for an answer. He wasn’t sure if this was goodbye or not. “I feel so stupid for feeling this way, I should’ve just told you I was doubting myself, for doubting us. I am so, so, so sorry.” A soft smile lit up his entire face as more tears rolled down.

“I love you so much, y/n. Please, don’t ever leave me,” he cried and buried his face into your neck as he hugged you tightly. You pushed him off you gently and cupped his face before pressing your lips to his in a passionate, kind of salty from the tears, kiss.

“I love you so much, Gorgeous,” you whispered and kissed him again.

For the first time in weeks, you felt okay again. Completely and utterly okay. Nothing could ever stop you from loving this man. Nothing could ever take you away from him. This was for forever. You and him. Forever.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #owen joyner #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner au #owen joyner fic #alex jatp #jatp fic #jatp au #jatp fandom #fantoms

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alinastracker · 3 years

Note

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head.

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked.

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked.

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall.

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him.

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible.

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them.

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder.

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan.

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up.

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next.

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal.

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence.

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal.

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again.

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.”

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in.

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there.

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual.

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away.

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more.

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them.

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire.

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off.

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does.

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that.

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual.

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful.

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying.

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.”

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off.

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina.

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges!

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it.

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time.

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys.

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease.

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers.

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again.

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases.

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn’t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat.

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him.

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so.

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower.

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

#malina #malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #grishaverse fanfic #college au #PHEW THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN EXPECTED #because i wrote much more than expected sksksksk #but this time i think i'm happy with what came out #i will never tire of writing these two idiots in love so i hope yall don't tire of reading me writing these idiots in love teehee #this one is steamy folks!#TY FOR THE PROMPT LINA I HOPE U ENJOY!!!!#writing #mine #ps the song he sends her is in the title teehee #for inquiring minds #also i've only read through this once so sorry in advance for the inevitable typos lmao

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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[please blacklist spoiler tags: #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, #loki spoilers]

Yes, I did just watch episode 2 at 5:30 in the morning.

No, I am not sorry. Not at the moment, although when I inevitably crash later this afternoon, I will be.

Just some very, very quick - and scattered and messy - thoughts: That is a straight up lie; they’re definitely scattered and messy but not very quick at all.

Under the cut for spoilers and length.

I’m going to start with Loki’s characterization. My honest opinion is that Loki’s overall characterization feels like a fic characterization. He definitely is not Avengers Loki, like, at all. I don't know if Tom just, like, forgot how to play that Loki or ...?? That, or Loki was so much more mind-controlled than we realized and getting hulk-smashed just completely reset him back to zero but also fucked him up a little bit and affected his personality, kind of like how some people completely develop weird new personality quirks after a traumatic brain injury.

… yeah, I think that’s where I’m gonna land for now. TV series!Loki feels like a more-or-less canon version of Loki, but if that Loki got hit in the head really hard and now he’s just a little bit fucked up but overall no worse for the wear. Which - it may be that it’s so early in the morning, but that’s actually really fucking funny to me, lmao. God, I kill me. It’s not funny.

No, but, that’s pretty much how I feel. He’s ooc but he’s also ic, and the reason I’m not particularly bothered by the inconsistency, for lack of a better word, is because that’s what pretty much every fic Loki already feels like to me? (Including my own, so I’m not, like, saying that in a derogatory way.) Which is why I say Loki feels like a fic!Loki and to try to explain it better - there is always, for me, a little suspension of disbelief that I employ when I read fic. The reason for that is because the context, the plot, and the dynamics of the fic are usually pretty different than what we ever get in canon, so it becomes a matter of taking film!Loki and, like, bending him a bit in order to fit him into the perimeters of the fic.

The result ends up being that I don’t see the exact Avengers!Loki or TDW!Loki, and thus by definition the portrayal is ooc, but the version that I do see feels like a genuine extension of the canon version, possessing enough of Loki’s overall traits and characteristics that he feels authentic, albeit a bit pretzeled for the new context.

I honestly think that’s something that’s unavoidable, just due to the fact that in fic - and now, in this series - there are a lot more variables at play than there are in the films, wherein Loki is not just a supporting character but also the villain/antagonist and is therefore very limited in what he does/what the narrative allows him to do. When those limitations are taken away, what are we going to see? Probably a lot of different things, and yeah, a lot of them are going to feel a little ooc. And, like in fic, even if the characterization mostly lands, there are definitely bits and pieces (some fics more than others lean this way) where the author didn’t stick the landing or got carried away or otherwise probably forgot for a while that they were writing Loki, not their own OC.

That’s the point where it strays into cringe territory for me (and where the ‘heh, he’s Loki but with a brain injury’ aspect comes in), but while I had to consciously decide to just ignore those moments, overall the tone in this episode felt a bit more balanced between the new, the old, and the cringe, and less whiplash-y from the beginning of the episode to the end.

… I have no idea if that makes sense, but what I’m basically saying is that while I am enjoying this version of Loki, I do recognize all of the ways he’s ooc but, unlike how I feel about Ragnarok!Loki, the ooc-ness feels genuine and unavoidable rather than just a fundamental and careless misunderstanding of the character altogether. In other words, I feel like any ooc-ness here is happening despite the writers taking care to do their best, and isn’t just a result of Loki being lazily written by a person or persons who just doesn’t want to bother with him at all.

Again, I don’t know if that makes sense, but fuck it, there we are and I’m moving on.

I liked all of the little details, including again, things that felt straight out of fic, like Loki asking Mobius why he has the jetski magazine. (Also, if any of my thorki friends read this, was I the only one who noticed that when we see Loki reading the magazine, it just happens to be open to a page with a picture featuring a jet skier who looks like Thor? l.m.a.o.)

Loki interrupting things to explain the difference between illusions vs the other power (I can’t remember which one, off hand, and if I stop writing to go look it up I will lose my train of thought and not finish this) was great, but his overall input and contributions to the missions inspired very mixed feelings for me. On the one hand, I loved that the narrative, via Loki, is reminding us of all these things that he’s capable of that the films generally left out or brushed aside or ignored - but, every time he spoke, he was met with eye rolls and sighs and just a general feeling of “someone please shut this guy up” and I didn’t like the narrative treating him that way.

But also, it’s understandable bc none of the people on his team are actually on his team. None of them want him there (story of Loki’s fucking life), none of them trust him, and none of them are particularly interested in hearing what he has to say. So it’s like, I understand why they reacted the way they did, and I don’t think their reactions are meant to support an overall narrative undermining of Loki’s skills and input - but, the tone is hard to read for me bc I am very defensive and protective of Loki. I can’t quite determine the line between the TVA agents being unreliable narrators (ie, they’re annoyed by Loki bc of who he is to them, but that doesn’t mean the audience is supposed to feel the same) and the TVA agents validating that Loki is just being a nuisance (and, thus, the audience is supposed to feel the same).

That is, I know how I am consuming the narrative (that they’re unreliable narrators), but I’m not sure if that’s how tptb are intending for me to consume the narrative - and I guess it doesn’t really matter, but it’s worth mentioning.

In general, I really liked, again, Loki existing in his own space and watching the way he carried himself. I especially found it interesting that his hands were almost always in his pockets - for one thing it's a stance I tend to imagine him taking often in fic, but also it’s kind of a weird choice bc pockets don’t seem to be a thing in Asgardian clothing. It makes me feel like Loki is the kind of person who never knows what to do with his hands but is always conscious of them, as is common among anxious and self-conscious people, and I just find that relatable on a weird level.

I am really kinda torn on Mobius in this episode; when not interrogating Loki, he’s much less antagonistic toward Loki and therefore I’m more inclined to take-him-or-leave-him but I’ll go ahead and take him I guess. Yet at the same time, bc he’s not interrogating Loki he’s also not trying to put on a show for Loki and when you take that away, he really doesn’t seem to like Loki at all. It supports that Mobius only wants what Loki can do for him and doesn’t actually particularly care about him as a person, which is fine and more or less what I figured, but it contributes to me not really being able to decide how I feel about him in general. Idk, though, I kinda like their dynamic? Like I want them to end up friends?

Regardless, Tom and Owen have amazing chemistry and it’s really funny to me bc (not to be a jerk) I honestly didn’t know Owen Wilson could act. Like, I’ve never seen him in a role where he wasn’t just playing Owen Wilson. So for him to not only be playing Mobius so well but also having such chemistry and a sense of holding-his-own against Tom Hiddleston is like, color me surprised but pleasantly so.

I like B-15 a lot, even though she obviously hates Loki, so idk why I like her but I do. I like Renslayer less, but meh. (Side note - when I was in undergrad in Syracuse, I took the Amtrak from Syracuse to Boston and back more than a few times, for reasons that aren’t relevant, and that route always had a layover at Albany-Rensselaer and every single time I see Renslayer’s name, I want to call her Rensselaer instead.) Shout out to the guest appearance by Casey, sorry Loki stole your juice lmfao.

The moments from the trailer that were very cringe were less so in context (though still kinda cringe, tbh). I think we’ve seen most of the content from the trailers in the first two episodes now, though, which means going forward, it’s going to be like 95% previously unseen material (aside from the brief apocalyptic shots and so forth).

One thing I fucking loved was how Loki, reading about Ragnarok, was visibly affected and even teared up a bit, and you could tell he was in his feels about it, but then later when Mobius expresses sympathy, Loki is just like, “Uh huh, very sad, but anyway.” It was a subtle (well maybe not that subtle) but effective way to remind us that what Loki presents to other people is more often than not a mask and he keeps his true feelings close to the chest. It makes last week’s breakdown have even more of an impact, I think, bc clearly Loki was at the end of his rope to allow himself to show that much raw emotion and vulnerability, but also - for me - there’s a niggling little doubt there that wasn’t there before, in that there was probably more performance in it than I thought.

By which I mean, I think his reaction to the film of his life when he was alone was genuine but, while I previously thought his admission to Mobius later was also genuine, I now think was probably half genuine and half performative. I know others already figured that out, but I’m a little slow and, also, I don’t mind changing my opinion and interpretation from week to week.

Along the same lines, I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that Loki is “undercover” in the TVA, but it was nice to see it acknowledged fairly quickly. Not sure I buy that Loki wants to overthrow and rule the TVA - it’s still a little too “Loki only wants a throne” for me, but again, just because that’s what he told the variant doesn’t mean that’s actually what he’s after.

And, finally, I like the variant, I love Loki’s reaction to seeing her, and while I realize that the show has acknowledged Loki’s gender fluidity and we’re meant to assume that Lady Loki (I guess? Not sure if we’re going with that or not here) is Loki, I saw a theory somewhere about how this is actually not Loki-Loki, but - I wanna say her name Sophie but that’s the actress, again I can’t go look it up bc I will lose my train of thought - but it’s a character who is similar to Amora and who was created by Loki and models herself as Loki but she’s actually someone else.

Ugh I can’t remember the details of the theory, but I am kinda going with it bc I don’t think that Loki would look so - not surprised but just kind of “oh, well, I wasn’t expecting that” if he were seeing the female version of himself. Like, he doesn’t seem to recognize her the way I assume he would recognize himself, male or female. Not only does that make me feel like she’s actually someone else, but also not recognizing her as the female version of himself doesn’t necessarily mean Loki doesn’t recognize her at all. He may very well recognize her as this other Amora-similar character and, if so, I really want to see how that character fits with MCU Loki (as I think she’s a comic book character but, again, I’d have to go back and find that theory).

Edit: I found a version of it here.

Overall score, B-. Mostly solid, but needs moar Loki breakdowns and tears. (That's just me, don't fucking judge me.) Also, I really hate that we have to wait a week between episodes. I wish they were following Netflix’s method of dropping the entire season at once but, then again, if they did that, I’m not sure any of us would survive.

I gotta get ready for work and I deleted and rewrote so much of this and it still seems nonsensical to me, lmfao fml. Anyway feel free to interact/send me asks/whatever, it’s going to be a long fucking day with all of this on my mind. I’ll be working my way through my dash as best as I can.

Oh, also! Loki is so fucking pretty in this episode! The TVA suit is ugly, but he makes it work, and his hair's combed nicely and he looks like he finally got an opportunity to sleep and shower and eat something and, yknow, it's working for him.

#loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki pokey artichokey #also thought it was interesting that as soon as mobius gave him the jacket #loki barely took it off and didn't go anywhere without it #lending even more credence to the fact that he likes to be as covered up as possible at all times

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tngrace · 3 years

Note

Me again (sorry). They are such good prompts and I couldn’t pick but going with “Late night talks” 🧡🧡

I wanted my own version of TK finding out Carlos's parents knew about them so here you go. *were also ignoring the last 2 mins of the finale and pretending it didn't happen* I hope you enjoy and never apologize for sending prompts! I'm slow but will always do my best to get to them @immortalstrand 💙

Thank you @moviegeek03 for all your help as always ❤

GTHB masterlist; Read on A03

Carlos ran a hand over his face, the exhaustion from the past twenty four hours starting to creep in. Owen and Gwyn had just left, and TK looked to finally be resting. Carlos watched him, just thankful he could watch him after everything. His phone rang disturbing the peace, and Carlos tried to quickly answer it, without looking to keep, from disturbing TK. He'd forgotten to silence it when he'd entered the hospital, not expecting anyone to call him this late at night.

His mother's voice rings through clearly, and Carlos let's out a breath before quietly talking in Spanish to her. He can see TK stirring a little, so he moves over towards the door hoping it won't bother him anymore. Gabriel had relayed the entire day to her, not surprising Carlos in the least, and she was worrying over them both. Carlos tried to reassure her they would be ok; he still had not wrapped his head around the fact his parents knew and were ok with it. But Andrea insisted on doing something, so Carlos relented and told her once they were home she could cook and bring it over. Once his mother was appeased, and he'd promised to keep them updated, he sank back into the chair by TK's bed.

"Babe?" TK questions softly, voice still heavy with sleep and pain.

"I'm here. It's ok," Carlos says softly smoothing some hair back from the bandage to soothe TK.

"You were talking.... in Spanish," he murmurs, his face scrunching in pain before it tugs too much on his stitches and he relaxes his forehead once more.

"I'm sorry," Carlos whispers kissing TK's cheek. "I was hoping not to disturb you."

TK's eyes finally crack open, and he reaches up rubbing Carlos's cheek. "Is 'k. But isn't it late?"

"Yea kinda. You should be resting before the nurse comes around for the next check."

"You haven't slept," TK points out. "Is everything ok for someone to be calling that late?" He questions as he rearranges to try and get comfy once more. The pain and confusion are really starting to get on his nerves even though he knows it's to be expected.

"Yea. Everything's fine. Mamà was just checking on us." He softly rubs TK's arm and strokes the hair he can reach hoping to relax his boyfriend back to sleep.

"Us?" TK says scrunching his face in confusion even more. "I know I have a concussion, but why would she even know about me, much less check on us?"

TK is adorable all the time, but Carlos finds TK's sleepy confusion the most adorable. Although this time he knows it's pain laced and not just his normal early morning confusion. He gives TK a smile as he kisses the back of his hand. "A lot happened today after I left the station. I was hoping you'd be feeling better before I told you, but they know Ty. They know we're together so Mamà was worried."

"How? I mean, did you tell them?" TK reaches up to rub his head to try and ease the pain, but Carlos catches his hand before it makes contact. TK's happy they know, but he's also really confused.

Carlos chuckles softly as he shakes his head. "Apparently I'm not subtle, and I still can't lie to my parents." He gives a soft shrug.

"Subtle? Carlos we haven't seen them since the farmers market."

"Oh." It clicks that maybe TK doesn't remember Gabriel being at the scene. "Well apparently I wasn't subtle then either. Dad was at the scene. It was his cas---"

"His case?! Shit! Carlos did I do or say something to out us? Oh fuck. Carlos I'm so...." Carlos leans up and cuts TK off with a soft kiss, interrupting his boyfriend like TK interrupted him. He could see panic overtaking his boyfriend, and that's the last thing he wanted with how much pain TK was already in.

"Shhh cariño. Take a breath," he murmurs as he softly rubs TK's chest to help calm him. "You didn't do anything Ty. Nothing. And it's ok. Dad wants a proper introduction, and after talking to Mamà just then, they're ok with it I promise."

He can see with each word that TK relaxes into the bed even more. "So everything's ok?"

"Yea mi amor. Everything's ok."

TK lets out a soft sigh as he tries to get comfy again. Carlos helps him arrange the pillow like he likes. "So tell me what happened?"

"You sure you're up for all of that right now babe? It can wait I promise."

"No. I wanna know. You'd started telling me about your day before your dad called you back to the station. So I wanna know what happened between then and now and how they know."

Carlos nods and squeezes TK's hand. "Ok. But just know you can drift off at any time."

TK nods and squeezes Carlos's hand back.

"So after I left the station, Dad called me in because they'd found the robber; well he turned himself in. His story was legit; I was right. He identified the two guys who kidnapped yall. Dad told me they were working out of a brown panel van, but that was it. He wouldn't admit I was right or that I'd done good." Carlos shakes his head with a sigh trying to shake it off because in the end his dad had told him he was proud of him.

TK squeezes his hand and Carlos looks up giving him a smile. He can see his own pain reflected in TK's eyes, and he hates that he's adding to TK's pain and worry.

"It's ok cariño. It all worked out."

"But he still should've had your back Carlos. You're his son." Carlos could tell TK was angry on his behalf, and while it warmed his insides, he hated making TK feel that way.

"I'm sure Mamà has given him a good lecture if he told her everything," Carlos reassured TK with a chuckle. "Anyways. I left the station and went home. I was stressed and you know cooking helps. I made homemade pasta for spaghetti and a salad."

"Fuck I missed home spaghetti," TK whines making Carlos smile.

"I'll make it again for you," he grins. TK gives him a little nod, before Carlos continues.

"So then when you didn't come home and weren't answering, I was worried. So I went to your dad's. Long story short, he called the captain on duty, and we left. He told me in the truck that yall were missing so as not to worry your mom anymore. He called Grace, we went to the parking garage, and I found this," he says holding up TK's sobriety chip. "Pretty smart of you," he murmurs.

"I do have an awesome cop for a boyfriend that's taught me things," TK grins as he runs his finger over it. "Figured it'd be evidence."

Carlos shrugs with a bashful smile and slips it back in his pocket until they're home so it doesn't go missing here at the hospital. "Pulled some strings and got to keep it. Found the brown panel van and the pieces started clicking together that it would be the same people as dad's case. When yall weren't in the garage, I remembered Charles talking about still using the restaurant and knew it was near by. I called dad at your dad's insistence, and he ordered me to stay put. But I'm so glad we didn't." He softly kisses TK's hand again.

"He showed up at the restaurant not long after we did, but I'm not surprised you didn't see him with how out of it you were. I knew he was there, but you were my first priority, always. So even if he hadn't known before, he would've figured it out then."

"I'm sorry babe," TK murmurs hating that Carlos didn't get to tell in his own time.

"Don't be. I didn't like hiding my love for you. I always want everyone to know how much I love you."

"And I love you," TK grins.

"Anyways he told me he was proud of me, that I did good, and then asked if I was going to ride with you. That's when he told me they'd known since the market, and that he expects a proper introduction next time. He must've went home and told mamà everything, which isn't unusual. They always talk about their days."

"I can't wait to meet them," TK says as his eyes get heavy once more.

"I can't wait either. Rest mi amor. It's late."

"Only if you'll sleep too." TK tries scooting over in bed to make room, but Carlos stops him. "Please," he whispers with the sad puppy eyes and pout.

"Alright but I'm blaming you if we get in trouble." Carlos can never tell TK no, so he carefully crawls in bed. TK settles with his head on Carlos's chest, falling fast asleep once more.

Nurses were in and out through the night and into the morning. TK kept passing all the tests so the doctor decided to discharge him before lunch. She gave them strict instructions on taking it easy and coming back if anything was amiss. Carlos promised to keep an eye on him, and they scheduled an appointment for in a week to come back and have his stitches looked at.

TK signs the discharges papers, and Carlos lets everyone know they're headed home but not sure TK is up for some visitors just yet. He sends his mother a similar text, but he knows she'll ignore the no visitors part in lieu of bringing them food. He gets TK settled in the Camaro his dad dropped off for him and thanks the nurse for helping get TK out. He slips some sunglasses over TK's eyes to try and help before tossing the duffle in the back. "Alright cariño let's get you home," he says as he takes off for the house.

He keeps the music off, and does his best to avoid any pot holes. He speeds slightly wanting to get TK out of the bright lights because he hates adding to TK's pain. "Almost there. I told everyone to hold off on visiting," he says softly. "But I should warn you, mamà will probably ignore that last part. She'll show up with food and want to fuss so I'm giving you warning now. I'll do my best to keep her downstairs, but she's hard to argue with."

He cuts off his rambles when he feels TK squeeze his hand. "It's ok babe. I don't mind if she comes over."

"You say that now," Carlos teases with a grin, but he does relax some. Once home, he hurries around and helps TK out. Alright let's get you upstairs in bed," he says softly leading TK to the front door.

"Shower first," TK pleads and Carlos knows he'll give in.

"Ok bath," he compromises. "You can't get your head wet yet, and I don't think you can stand on your own that long."

"Only if you'll stay in there with me," TK grins relaxing now that they're in the darkened house.

"Of course. I let you out of my sight and you get hurt. Can't have any more injuries," Carlos teases.

"Rude," TK pouts as they slowly start upstairs.

"Accurate," Carlos counters lovingly. He gets TK in a warm bath, staying right beside the tub. He let's him soak for a bit before he gently washes him. Once clean, he can see TK is fading fast so he helps him out, gets him dry, and into some sweats. He doesn't bother with a shirt, planning on putting TK right to bed. TK rests against him before they move back to the bedroom. "Thank you," he whispers into Carlos's chest.

"Don't have to thank me cariño." Carlos gently strokes his back before helping TK to the bed. He makes sure the black out curtains are pulled after he tucks TK in.

"Stay?"

"Ok," Carlos says with a soft smile. He decides he'll take a short nap until his parents show up because he knows his mother will be there before dinner. He sleeps for a couple hours before he hears the knocking. TK is still sound asleep, so Carlos carefully disentangles, closing the door softly before heading downstairs.

"Mamà, dad," he says as he opens the door trying to make it look like he hadn't been asleep.

"Told you we would wake them," Gabriel says getting an eye roll and a slap to the stomach from his wife.

"It's ok dad. I was expecting yall," Carlos says with a wry grin.

His mother heads straight to the kitchen with her bags and his dad moves to the couch. "TK is still sleeping," Carlos tells his parents as his mother makes herself at home in his kitchen.

"How is he?" Gabriel asks, and even though Andrea is bustling about starting on enchiladas and rice, Carlos knows she's listening intently.

"Sore. In pain. Got ten stitches in his head and a moderate concussion, but he'll be ok. Just needs to rest and take it easy."

"And you?" Andrea asks shooting them a look before refocusing on her food.

"I'm fine Mamà. I'm not the one injured," Carlos says with a fond eye roll.

She levels him with a look; "You may not be the one injured, but you still had a rough day. And you're playing caregiver right now, so I know you haven't slept much."

Carlos sighs softly before nodding, knowing he can't lie to her. "I didn't sleep much, no one sleeps much in a hospital, but I'm fine. I'll get over yesterday because TK is safe, and that is all that matters."

"It's not all that matters," Andrea exclaims exasperated.

Carlos shoots his dad a weary look as Andrea pounds the chicken for the enchiladas.

"She's mad at me mijo," Gabriel offers as an explanation.

"Ah," Carlos says softly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his mom from behind. "Don't worry Mamà. I'm ok," Carlos tells her kissing her cheek. He gets himself and his dad some water bottles before stealing a cookie he sees on the counter. Andrea must have baked them last night when she was stressed. He gets stress cooking from her and he knows it. Andrea swats at him, making him grin like he did as a kid. "Dad was just doing his job," he tells her softly. Yea he took it personally yesterday, but she doesn't need to know that.

She starts to argue before Gabriel pipes up making Carlos turn and give him his attention. "No your mother's right mijo. I do owe you an apology."

"No you d-"

"Yes I do," Gabriel insisted pulling Carlos down on the couch beside him. Carlos sits, his hands twisting together nervously in his lap. Gabriel lays his hands over Carlos's and squeezes gently. "I was wrong yesterday. What you did, was smart, was safe, and you do have good instincts. Had you put Armando in your squad car...." He cuts off and Carlos can see its hard for him to even consider that possibility.

He gives his dad a minute, squeezing his hand back. "I was so proud of you yesterday. You stood your ground, you saved the paramedics. You did good mijo, and I was so proud of you. Captain Strand was impressed too."

Carlos wipes at his eyes feeling bashful. "Thank you sir," he says biting the inside of his lip before Gabriel pulls him into a tight hug. "You're a good cop mijo. Never doubt that," he whispers. Carlos hugs his dad tight, but quickly pulls back when he hears the stairs creak.

"Sorry... didn't mean to interrupt," TK says with a wince.

"No no. It's fine," Carlos says rushing over to help him. "I didn't hear you get up, or I would've come help you."

"I'm fine," TK says, but he let's Carlos help him over to the couch. Gabriel moves to the chair so TK can stretch out despite TK insisting he can sit up for a bit.

Carlos hears Andrea come out of the kitchen and he remembers his dad's comment about wanting a proper introduction. "Mamà, Dad, I would like you to meet me boyfriend,TK Strand. TK this is my Mamà and dad, Andrea and Gabriel."

"It's nice to meet you both," TK says with a smile.

"Likewise," Gabriel says before Andrea goes into full motherhen mode.

"How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Carlitos says you've got a concussion and stitches."

Carlos chuckles as he sits back watching as TK blushes. "Really I'm fine mam."

"Oh none of that," Andrea said with a wave. "You're family so just relax." Carlos and TK share amused grins as Andrea brings TK some water. Carlos sits down on the couch by TK finally as his parents get to know his boyfriend. He knows they still need to have some conversations, but for right now, TK is safe, his parents are here and he feels happy, happier than he ever thought he could be.

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #gthb #good things happen bingo #writers life

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gayshrug · 3 years

Text

911LS 2x11 thoughts:

- the drama of this intro, mr. reyes you're talking about your son's father in law

- the way tk sits is so fucking cute, he always looks so cuddly and warm. his face when the doc mentioned the downtime jddjdjdb

- i am OBSESSED that tk starts so many sentences with "carlos and i" now. also that puzzle is atrocious and i would hate it too, baby

- THE FACE TIME CALL i'm judd looking at his own face 90% of the time

- captain ryder is something i am very much on board with 😌

- oh god marjan that's so fucking bad, every second counts, i can tell this is gonna be detrimental. can't they secure the car any further???

- WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK

- i'm liking this convo between judd and owen, everyone who works with people or is a first responder lives in uncertainty

- they're...... reintroducing billy. so. that's gonna be bad news. did they forget about his eye or is this just supposed to be a very very successful transplant (?)

- this foreshadowing good lord, owen's gonna fuck shit up majorly huh

- nancy's beef jerky? yeah she's the love of my life for sure

- i cannot talk about the tk/carlos flirting or i'll fucking combust, they're too much

- mckenna has a point, i'll be honest. the way marjan treats her job as a way to gain publicity / icon status is super uncomfortable and this time around, it wasn't only bad optics but wasted crucial time.

- this owen montage is boring BUT it's supposed to show his own boredom so it's alright by me. also, i laughed when he dropped the soil in sync with the meditation tape. also, iconic song choice

- tk in uniform still gets me going. "carlos and i" again 😌

- owen girl you're in lung recovery, I don't think running into a burning building is gonna do wonders for that. God, this is gonna look bad

- OWEN SHUT UP JUDD IS THE CAPTAIN

- unrelated but American commercials give me so much anxiety why is everything so loud and hectic

- owen, in a grey hoodie: so the suspect was wearing a grey hoodie....

- listen i love owen (i know, sue me) but the investigator is making Damn Good Points, though i don't like his aggressive tone because if owen actually were the perp, he'd be at risk of lashing out. judd's panicky eyes jddjdjdb

- the cringe @ this roller derby team scene...... i also think the dismissal of the 'cancelling' is kinda weirdly portrayed. like, marjan DID do something in a less than ideal way, taking a break from social media/ public appearances is necessary.

- grace looks so gorgeous 🥺 and i'm so happy for tommy and charles, i hope their reopening is gonna be a success

- THIS MONTAGE OF OWEN BUYING ALL THAT STUFF AND THE CLERK LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT I'M WHEEZING

- owen you sound absolutely unhinged, if billy runs to the authorities with this info he's gonna be 100% in the right

- not owen trying to emasculate billy in order to get him to join his investigation 😭

- WHAT'S WITH THIS REMIX

- paul is such a good friend. and i do feel for marjan!!!!! she's just also a showboat

- PAUUUUUUL PLEASE i love these two together 💘

- oh no, a suicide note?

- glad that we didn't get a dramatic thank you from mckenna

- good on you, marjan, that's more like it!!!!! "that's who we are." EXACTLY!!!

- OMG FAMILY DINNER TIME????

- "you both look so handsome" mama reyes please 🥺

- CRISIS AVERTED 🥺 why are they so cute, i just. we've come so far

- OWEN I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, GOING BACK TO THE SCENE OF A CRIME??????? and taking pictures? without gloves, too? the fact that the arsonist pulled owen out and didn't leave him in the fire makes me think he knows owen (billy, perhaps? or a different former colleague? or someone whose family member the 126 didn't manage to save?)

- the stance of the culprit DKDKDJD 🧍🏻‍♂️

i really really enjoyed this episode 👍🏼 the balance between drama and comedy was well-done, as was the owen/ ensemble mix in my opinion. 7.5/10 🥀

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #911ls lb #long post

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tarlosprompts · 4 years

Note

What about Carlos hurt on a call and TK freaking out and more or less moving in after Carlos gets home from the hospital bc he doesn't want to leave him alone for a second. Sorta a makes him realize how deep his feelings are and how much he loves him and can't live without him kinda deal

Claimed by Red💋

Part 2 of another prompt! Here’s Part 1

Warnings: past violence, high anxiety, slight dissociation

Anxious Nights

TK didn’t want to leave Carlos when the ambulance rolled up to the hospital. Carlos hadn’t woken up on the ride to the hospital and that had TK on edge. Michelle had tried to explain to him that the shoulder wound would heal up fine, it didn’t seem like there was much damage...except for the fact that there was now a hole going from his boyfriend’s front to his back. What if Carlos didn’t regain full motion of his arm?

Michelle had also tried to explain that Carlos probably wouldn’t wake up on the ride to the hospital because of how hard he hit his head. She tried to explain that head wounds bleed more and that it wasn’t that serious. She tried to explain that Carlos would probably only have a mild concussion, but TK couldn’t listen to her. All he could hear were the bad thoughts, the what ifs. What if Carlos hit his head hard enough to forget him? What if Carlos damaged his brain? What if Carlos didn’t wake up?

Watching Carlos get wheeled through the double doors where he couldn’t follow was almost as bad as watching Carlos go down on the scene. TK didn’t really know what to do with himself. He stood in the middle of the floor, staring at those doors.

A small hand rested on his shoulder, “TK, you with me?” TK turned his head to Michelle, a frown on his face as it had been for the past thirty minutes. “We need to get you checked out, TK.”

“I’m staying here,” he muttered, staying in place.

“As soon as they know something, they know to find me. Carlos would want you to get yourself checked out.”

“I’m staying,” TK responded.

Michelle rolled her eyes at the stubborn man. “Fine.” She turned to her radio, “bring me an ambo bag, I need to check TK out after his escapades today.” Turning back to TK, she led him over to a chair that faced the double doors. “I need you to take your turnout off.”

TK followed her instructions and proceeded to sit down as Gillian placed a bag next to Michelle. “Go ahead and head back to the station. Do you mind having someone bring over mine and TK’s bags?”

“You got it, Boss.”

Michelle pulled out a light and flicked it in front of TK’s eyes. She did most of the exam nonverbally as TK’s anxiety showed itself through his extremities moving rapidly. “Does anything hurt? And I need you to be honest, TK.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “I have a mild headache and some sore muscles. Nothing that won’t fix itself.”

Michelle studied him a moment more before nodding to herself. “If anything starts becoming unbearable, you need to let me know.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

_____________

Three Hours Later

TK’s leg hadn’t stopped bouncing since he’d sat down. He’d tried pacing the room, but his dad had put a quick stop to that when he arrived with his and Michelle’s bags. Now he was stuck between the paramedic and his father as he waited for any news on Carlos.

TK ticked his fingers as he looked up at the clock on the wall. How long did it take to let people know their loved ones were alright? It shouldn’t take three hours for someone to assess Carlos and let his friends and family know.

TK tensed as a doctor walked through the door. “Family of Carlos Reyes,” he called.

TK was immediately on his feet. “Is he alright? Can we see him? How bad was it? Is-”

“TK,” his father placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Michelle Blake,” the doctor turned to the woman.

“That’s me. Anything you want to say, you can say in front of my friends.”

“Very well. Carlos sustained a through and through in the right shoulder. We cleansed the wound and exrayed it to make sure nothing was broken. We sewed it up and it should heal fully in four-six weeks. Mr. Reyes also sustained a head wound from his fall. That required four stitches but should heal just fine. We also assessed for a concussion. Because he lost consciousness we have diagnosed him with a Grade 3 concussion. He will need to be monitored closely so we have admitted Mr. Reyes for the next twenty-four hours. If all goes well, he should be able to return home within the next day or two as long as he has someone to watch over him. If there are no questions, I can lead you to his room.”

Seeing no questions, the doctor turned and walked them through the double doors. As they walked, TK could feel his anxiety climb. Concussions were nothing to joke about. Would this affect Carlos later on? As they approached the room, the doctor turned to him. “He was awake thirty minutes ago but he may not be now. He does need his rest, so please, do not wake him up. Visiting hours are technically over, but I can let a nurse know that one of you will be staying the night. The other two would need to leave in the next thirty minutes”

Michelle smiled at the doctor, “would you mind informing them that TK Strand will be staying with him tonight?”

The doctor gave her a kind smile and nod. “Will do. He is in room 740. To enter and exit the building use the main entrance, not the emergency doors.” With that, the doctor was off.

TK, Owen, and Michelle walked the rest of the short way to Carlos’s room in silence. Michelle was the first to the room. She quietly opened the door and peeked her head in. She motioned for the Strands to be quiet as they entered. Once in the room, TK could see Carlos sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed. He immediately went to Carlos’s bedside, hands fluttering once again, not knowing what to do with them. He didn’t want to wake Carlos as he did need sleep to recover.

TK heard a quiet shuffle behind him before he saw a chair appear behind him out of his periphery. TK sat down, hands finally settling on clasping Carlos’s left hand. TK couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos’s face and chest. Carlos was alive. He was breathing. He was resting.

“He’s going to be okay, Son.”

_____________

Two Days Later

“Tiger, you don’t need to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you a doctor? Hell, are you a paramedic? No? Oh that’s right, your a stubborn ass cop. We were told you needed to be supervised at home for the next week and that is what we are doing...unless you want to go back to the hospital?” TK raised an eyebrow as he parked the car in front of Carlos’s house. Seeing his boyfriend’s grimace, he responded, “I thought not.”

TK helped Carlos out of the car and into the house. He moved to take Carlos to the bedroom, but Carlos stopped. “I’d like to sit in the living room and watch movies with my boyfriend while he pretends like he isn’t trying to coddle me.”

TK’s glare held no heat. “Fine. Sit,” he ordered. “Don’t even think of getting up. Let me go grab our bags.”

In no time, TK had their bags in the house and pillows and blankets brought out from Carlos’s room and piled around the man. “Do you need anything? Water? Pain meds? Food? Should I get more blankets or-”

“Tiger, Baby, calm down. I just want to cuddle with my amazing boyfriend. That’s all I need.” Carlos’s brown eyes pleaded for him to concede.

TK nodded quickly. “Yeah, yes. Yes, I can do that. I can totally do that.” TK quickly turned around before heading to the couch, “let me just grab some water and snacks. That way we don’t have to move. Can’t let you get dehydrated. I’ll bring over you meds too so that they’re in reach. We can’t stay on the couch for the rest of the day, you’ll need your rest in an actual bed to get better, plus the couch isn’t that comfy. Should we just go to your room? I can pull up movies on your laptop. It would be more comfortable and better for your recovery and we could still cuddle. We should-”

“TK, Tyler...Tyler I need you to breathe. I’m alright. If it would make you feel better, we can go to my room,” Carlos hated that TK was becoming more anxious by the second. He didn’t know what he could do to ease that anxiety.

“Okay, yeah, okay. Let’s do that. Let me-let me come help you up.”

Carlos didn’t fight TK’s need to help him get up even though Carlos was seventy-five percent sure he could get up by himself. He let TK mother hen him into the bed and fortify him with pillows. He didn’t even object to the snacks that TK brought in, though Carlos never was big on eating things in bed. As TK straightened up to go get something else, Carlos caught his hand. “Baby, this is everything we need. Please lay down with me.”

Carlos could see the energy buzzing beneath TK’s skin. The last time he’d seen this much energy tightly coiled in his boyfriend had been the night he’d first called TK over for dinner that turned into a disaster. He didn’t like this side of his boyfriend.

_____________

TK tried not to fidget in the bed, but he felt like he needed to be up and moving and making sure that Carlos was alright and bringing him anything he needed. He needed to be busy. After his hand started tapping on his leg for the fifth time, Carlos reached down to lace his fingers with TK’s. “I’m alright, Amore. I just want to relax with my boyfriend. I am fine, I’m going to be fully healed in a matter of weeks. There’s no need for you to worry yourself sick.”

“I’m not-I’m not worrying myself. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Babe, you literally can’t sit still. I don’t want you to be anxious over this. I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t! What if he had shot you in the head? He aimed for you and I couldn’t do anything and then I couldn’t see you. When I did-” TK’s voice cracked, “when I did see you, you weren’t moving, Carlos. You were not fine!”

“In my defense, I did hit my head and I was unconscious.” Carlos was trying to lighten the mood slightly, but the look TK gave him, sobered him. “I watched you fly five feet through the air when the propane tanks blew. You didn’t move for a couple of seconds. I was worried about you, but you’re alright. You’re sitting here, talking to me. And I’m sitting here talking to you. Tyler, it’s alright to worry about me, but you don’t need to be in fight or flight mode because I’m not in danger. I’m healing.”

TK was silent for a while and all Carlos could do was look at him. He couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. TK extracted himself from the hold Carlos had on him. “I’m going to make some sandwiches and change clothes to be more comfortable in bed. Do you want to change or are you alright?”

“Tiger,” Carlos sighed.

“Right, I’ll bring back a sandwich for you.” TK darted out the door.

_____________

Six Days Later

“I’m not an invalid,” Carlos sighed.

TK rolled his eyes in return. “I never said you were.”

“Yeah, you just treat me like one. If the roles were reversed, you’d be verbally fighting me about it.”

“I just want you to heal correctly. Is that too much to ask?”

“You are allowed to go home now. You don’t need to watch me anymore.”

TK turned his back to Carlos as he pulled his shirt off to change. “What, so you’re kicking me out? For caring?” When Carlos didn’t respond, TK turned with his new shirt in his hands to look at the man. Carlos’s eyes were wide. “What?”

Carlos stood up, walking towards TK. “Baby, your back,” Carlos whispered, turning him around to run his hands over the healing bruises. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

“It didn’t really hurt. Must have been the blast’s force. I’m fine. I had more important things to think about.”

“Tyler, you should have at least told me.”

TK turned back to face Carlos, “so you could refuse my help? I don’t think so. It really didn’t hurt that much, ‘Los.”

Carlos shook his head. “We’re partners, Tyler Kennedy Strand. We tell each other when we’re hurt. That’s how this works. You need to think about yourself too, not just me and my injuries.”

TK broke eye contact. His breathing was beginning to become uneven. “You could have...If that gangster had better aim, he could have killed you, Carlos. And I don’t-I don’t know how to live without you anymore. You-you’re my rock and I don’t know if I could stay sane or-or sober if you were gone. I love you...God I love you so much. I didn’t even realize how much I loved you...I don’t want to live without you. I don’t like it when you’re hurt. I can’t focus on me when you’re in pain because I want to fix it. I love you so much that when you’re hurt, I’m hurt and-and not just this time because I was also hurt, but-but because I care so deeply for you that it scares me. I’ve been so anxious because I wanted-I wanted to make it so you weren’t hurt. I wanted to take your pain and your injuries because you don’t deserve them.”

There was a shine in Carlos’s eyes as TK stared at them. A small smile was on the man’s face. “I happen to love you just as much. I feel your pain because I care so much for you...but it’s not scary because I know that you feel the same way. With our jobs, we can’t promise not to get hurt, Tyler. But we can promise to try out best. I think-I think we need to work on your anxiety, though, because it isn’t healthy to spend seven or more days filled to the brim with anxiety. I love you, so much Cariño.”

TK licked his lips as he leaned closer to Carlos. “Does this mean I can stay?”

Carlos bit his lip as a smile began to form. “However long you want...you already have a key, Baby.”

#Anonymous #claimed by red #by red #writings by red #tarlos #tarlos relationship #tk strand x carlos reyes #carlos reyes x tk strand #tyler kennedy strand x carlos reyes #carlos reyes x tyler kennedy strand #tyler kennedy strand #tk strand #carlos reyes #owen strand #michelle blake #soft boys

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kiras-sunshine · 3 years

Text

I’m gonna hold onto your heart for sure

Written for day 3 of Carlos Reyes Week: “well, that just happened” + friendship

Summary:

“It’s not out of obligation or anything like that,” he says immediately, “we are friends, no matter what. Besides, you’re basically part of the team, like an honorary member of the 126.”

on ao3

Carlos is surprised to find Paul, leaning against his blue Camaro outside the police station when he finally gets off from shift.

The sun is already setting, painting the whole yard of the police station in golden light.

Paul’s face lights up when he spots him near the doors, and he gives him a small wave. He has changed out of his uniform, but he is still wearing dark pants and AFD t-shirt.

He tries to go through in his mind if he has forgotten any plans they might have made when he walks up to the car and him. He cannot come up with anything, but he is still glad to see him.

“Hey, everything okay?” He asks, mostly out of habit. He looks fine and he guesses he wouldn’t be grinning that widely if something atrocious had happened.

“Yeah,” he agrees and claps his hand on his shoulder. “Just checking up if you’re moping like a lovesick puppy,” he jokes.

Carlos flashes a smile, but he shakes his head as he glances their shoes. “I’m not.”

TK had to leave up to New York to attend his cousin’s wedding. He had been invited too as a plus one, but he couldn’t get four days off from work, and TK had assured that he was completely fine going there alone too, but he misses him.

It has been three days, which is ridiculous considering how much he wants to see him and longs to have him back in Austin. He cannot remember when he would have missed someone this much, and it almost terrifies him a little.

Obviously, they have been texting and calling, but it still isn’t the same thing.

“TK seemed pretty miserable when I called him,” he shrugs, with innocent smile, “just saying.”

He just huffs at that, amusedly, as he tries to fish out his car keys from the pocket of his jeans.

“Also, it’s family dinner today, so I’m picking you up. Well, I don’t have a car ‘cause Marjan just dropped me here on the way to supermarket, but still, the point stands.”

The 126 has created a tradition of having a proper, full-scale dinner once a week. The time and day changes, adapting to their shifts, but they never fail to have one. Owen has dubbed it as a family dinner for team bonding reasons. He has attended it a couple times with TK, but he feels like it’s a quite accurate term.

The crew definitely is a family, and they care each other a lot and deeply, and there is so much love and affection in the air when they don’t have to worry about getting called to scenes, and they always have each other’s backs.

He is almost a little jealous of the bond they all share.

He lets out a small laughter and fidgets with his car keys. “That’s nice but you don’t have to--,” he starts, but Paul is gesturing him to stop talking.

“It’s not out of obligation or anything like that,” he says immediately, “we are friends, no matter what. Besides, you’re basically part of the team, like an honorary member of the 126.”

He would be lying if he said that hearing that wouldn’t make him feel fondness towards the entire team and it makes him feel cared for and a little special. He knows he generally gets along with people well and he has no issues making friends, but he has been missing Michelle and he appreciates it more than he can say that he has become friends with everyone in the team and they aren’t just tolerating him for the sake of TK.

“Okay,” he agrees.

Spending the evening with friends and eating a proper dinner definitely beats his plans of cleaning his apartment and ordering takeout.

“Yeah,” Paul laughs and before Carlos knows he has been pulled into a tight hug. It’s surprisingly comforting hug despite the fact that it’s short and brief.

“Well, that just happened,” he says, and there is a certain edge of uncertainness that wasn’t there before, with apologetic expression when he lets go off him. “Sorry, got carried away.”

“Hey, we’re friends, friends get hugged,” he tells him, immediately, resting his hand on his shoulder.

He isn’t maybe the most tactile person in the world, but sometimes it is easier to say something through touch than words and he firmly believes in hugging.

“Yeah,” Paul agrees, softly and his grin is back and already brighter. He nods towards his car. “Let’s go. Cap won’t like if we are late.”

***

Carlos isn’t sure if his stomach hurts because all of the food he has eaten or because of all the laughter. The food was delicious and there was way too much of it, and they had been talking about everything that came to mind. They had been sharing anecdotes of work and what their lives had been like before they arrived in Texas and the firehouse.

The 126 is back on shift in a couple of hours, and the whole team, except Owen, has sprawled on the couches, trying to survive their food comas. Judd and Mateo are talking about basketball, deep in their conversation and Marjan is showing Paul some video on his phone, and they all seem content in the moment, and the whole room is filled with laughter and chatter.

Carlos smiles as he looks at them, but his phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He quietly slips away and walks towards the doors to get some more privacy. It’s basically all for nothing because the firehouse been built so that privacy is almost non-existent. Especially with this particular team.

“Hey,” he says, when the video call connects and he sees TK’s tired, but beaming face on his phone screen.

“Hey,” he says back, but tilts his head and squints his eyes at him. “Is that a fire truck?”

He turns his phone a little, so that he gets a glimpse of the bright red side of the truck. “Yeah.”

His grin gets wider. “Missing me that much?“

“Yeah,” he breathes out, with genuine laughter, “also Paul dragged me to the dinner.”

“Oh yeah, the family dinner. I should’ve remembered,” he says, as he runs his hand through his hair, making it stick up slightly. “That’s nice.”

“It is,” he says, sincerely. “I wish you were here with us.”

It’s nice that he is, in their eyes too, his own person outside of their relationship. He knows they are close, and they still keep complaining when they will grow out of their honeymoon stage, but he still knows how to be his own person and he doesn’t feel less whole without him. He feels that together they are something more, but not lacking otherwise either.

“Me too,” he admits under his breath, “we do have pretty great friends.”

It feels like an understatement but it’s still true. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. The corner of his mouth twitches into a gradual smile. “Your dad promised to teach me how to bake a sugar free key lime pie.”

It makes him laugh, and it’s such a beautiful sound and he would gladly spend rest of his life listening to it. His eyes are glistering with what looks like happiness. “He doesn’t teach just anyone,” he points out. “Kitchen is like a sacred place for him. He certainly hasn’t taught baking to anyone I have dated.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his neck.

He likes Owen, and he feels like they would get along even if he wasn’t dating his son, but it is sort of a big deal for him that he seems to like him, too. He knows he doesn’t need anyone else’s approval, but he still loves the fact that all of them just took him in as one of their own.

“Also,” he starts, and points at the screen with grimace on his face, “his sugar-free key lime pie is terrible. It tastes like flour, so good luck.”

“Ah, I’ll just make the others eat most of it. Practice the fine art of guilt tripping,” he deadpans, but it is getting impossible to hold back the smile.

“Good strategy.”

“Your dad misses you, too,” he points out softly, “he had a baby pic of you on the dinner table.”

He had placed the framed picture on the spot that he usually sits on. It had been mostly a joke, a way to boost the team morale, but he had noticed how many times Owen had glanced at the picture during the dinner. The picture had been of TK, barely standing on his own, grabbing leg of a table and he was wearing orange overalls and grinning as widely as a one year old can.

TK groans, and he cannot help but chuckle. “It’s on the wall now. According to them, they have put it high enough so you cannot take it down when you get back.”

“I hate them all,” he mutters, but there is no heat behind his voice.

“You were a cute baby,” he adds, just because he can.

“I wasn’t,” he insists, “especially if it was the orange overalls picture.”

“It was, but I guess I have to ask him to show me the entire photo albums,” he says, mostly just teasing him and mostly because he genuinely wants to see the photos.

“Please don’t,” he says, but the amusement shines through his voice. “He would love it.”

It would probably take hours, but he might do it one day when he has time.

“How’s the wedding?”

“Good, it has been nice seeing everyone,” he tells him, sounding genuinely happy. Carlos knows he hasn’t seen his mother’s side family in years. “It would be more fun if you were there. They all keep asking about you.”

“I’m sorry for not making it,” he says, gently.

He would have loved to go with him, but the wedding had seemed a little like a last-minute thing for him, and the invitation had come in mail just a couple weeks before and there was no way he could have managed to change all of his shifts.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it as a jab,” he remarks, softly.

“I know.”

“It’s mostly just funny. I head a bunch of my aunts talking and doubting if you’re even real because you sound a little too perfect, and that if you’re real, how did you end up with me,” he explains with a huff, but his voice sounds amused and there is certain mischief in his eyes.

“You could tell them that I’ve a very specific type,” he jokes, because he can feel the warmth creeping up on his neck.

He knows how to accept a compliment, but perfect definitely isn’t a word he would associate with himself, let alone expect a bunch of people he has never met to describe him as such.

“What would that be?”

Before he has any chance to answer, he spots Judd walking towards him and he claps both of his hands on his shoulders and flashes a smile at the phone screen. “Rude green-eyed firefighters who don’t let their family know they are calling,” Judd quips into their conversation.

TK is laughing again, but he is definitely delighted to see him, too. “I feel like you can find twelve of those in a dozen.”

“More like once in a lifetime,” Carlos murmurs, as rest of the team swarms in and forms a sort of half-circle around them. He knows TK hears him, because he holds his gaze, and his face softens. His smile is tiny but genuine and he feels like it’s only reserved for him.

“Ugh, you’re too sappy,” Marjan complains, but she ends up sounding mostly fond.

Carlos tries to hold up his phone high enough that he manages to see everyone. They keep waving at him, and he looks genuinely touched. “I’m glad you’re there.”

“We are glad to have him,” Mateo pipes in.

“We miss you,” Paul adds, “but we think we like Carlos better,” he says, deadpan.

“Cannot blame you for having good taste,” he shoots back, with a wink, and suddenly the warm feeling in his neck creeps back up.

“At least he knows how to cook, unlike certain someone,” Marjan says, with a glare that doesn’t linger on her face.

“Hey, the casserole I made last week was edible,” TK argues.

“Yeah, kid. Edible, not good,” Judd says with deep sounding laughter.

“It made my stomach feel funny,” Mateo admits, sounding a little distraught.

“Even Buttercup didn’t eat it,” Paul reminds him.

“Y’all are so ungrateful,” he says, with mock exasperated sigh as he stares beyond his phone, but amusement doesn’t disappear from his eyes.

Carlos knows that TK’s culinary skills are common joke for them, and he can admit he shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near kitchen and unfortunately, he had gotten the leftovers of the casserole too. It had been dry and tasteless, but he still he had eaten it.

“I wouldn’t have eaten it if it wasn’t made by you,” he admits, too.

“Ah, blinded by love,” Judd says, shaking his head.

“You’ll end up with food poisoning,” Marjan tells him, as she pokes him in the arm.

Before he has any chance to reply, TK looks like he is listening to someone speak in the other end of the call. He flashes them a smile. “Sorry, I gotta go. Carlos, I love you. The rest of you are okay, I guess,” he jokes in a light tone, and his smile is so wide and genuine that it definitely reaches his eyes.

His crew fake exasperation around him, but they all end up erupting in laughter and keep telling TK how much they miss him before they manage to actually end the call.

#carlosreyesweek2021 #tarlos #tarlos fic #day 3 #this was really fun to write #i have soft spot for team and carlos #carlos reyes

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