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#stressed out chicago babygirl
answer2jeff · 9 months
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currently thinking about Carmen being that boyfriend who buys every snack or drink you mention in ridiculously large quantities and just keeps them in his pantry/fridge for when you come over.
you complain that you prefer apple over orange juice, he buys you two packs of those mini bottles stuck together with plastic rings; sometimes even packing them into your lunch for work that day.
you're sitting on his couch with a bag of chips you were snacking on, he buys two party sized bags and keeps them in a specific corner of his pantry.
oh, and this man will continue to restock on your favorite snacks, and you don't bring it up a single time just in case you'll risk the chance of him stopping.
yet he doesn't say a word. not even a, "I got that stuff you told me you liked," because he thinks it's just natural; he's supposed to remember all your favorite things. why would you need to even think about it, let alone thank him???? it's his job, goddamnit!!!
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How to Say I Love You
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Word count: 2,582
Warnings: Smut implied.
Summary:  One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
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As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.
“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.
“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.
“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.
“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.
“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”
“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.
                                                          ---
Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.
His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:
“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*
P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(
Meet me at our spot?
⎼ Your bae.”
He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...
A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin. 
“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.
“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.
“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.
“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.
“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.
“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.
"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.
"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.
"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.
Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.
Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.
"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.
"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.
"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.
"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.
"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.
"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.
"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.
"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"
"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.
"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced. 
"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."
"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"
"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.
It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.
"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.
"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.
"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"
"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"
"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"
"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.
"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.
"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately. 
"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.
"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.
"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"
"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"
"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.
"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.
"Jay…"
"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.
"Okay, then…"
                                                           ---
“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.
“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”
“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”
“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.
“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”
“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.
“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.
“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.
After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.
As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.
 The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:
"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.
"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.
And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.
"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.
"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.
"It is." He agreed with you.
"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."
"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.
"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.
"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.
“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.
“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.
“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.
“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.
“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.
“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”
“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:
“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.
“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”
“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.
“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.
And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.
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sexbirthdeaths · 3 years
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if i had an orchard
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ship: morgan x garcia
summary: penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. with each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. and he can’t look away.
warnings: mentions of minor character death (hank morgan, the boy morgan finds in the junkyard), episode 3x09 “penelope”, rotting fruit/maggot imagery, religious imagery, implied murder (boy in junkyard), toxic masculinity
words: 3000
Derek is eight when his dad takes him camping for the first time. It’s the summer of 81, Sarah is entering middle school and Desiree is about to start Kindergarten, so after all of the stress of school applications, Hank proposes they just go out, enjoy the sights of Illinois.
So they go to Buffalo Rock, and he loves it, loves the smell of nature and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He plays soccer with his dad by the campsite whilst Sarah burns through her summer reading list and Desiree cries because she doesn’t like the bugs and she’s too small to play with the boys, and it’s the best summer of his life.
One night, his father pulls a bag of apples from the rucksack, suggests they bake them in some tinfoil over the fire. So while Fran puts Desiree away to bed, Hank sits him down by the campfire and shows him how to pare an apple with a penknife. Slow, using his thumb to stabilise the blade, careful not to cut his finger.
He cuts it straight through the core, hands Derek one of the slices to parcel up carefully in tinfoil. And once those are on the flames, he gives him the knife, another apple from the bag.
“Be careful,” Hank guides him slowly, hand hovering over Dereks’ own, “You don’t want to cut yourself.”
Derek peels it clean and precise, he’s always been a bit of a perfectionist like that. But when he cuts down the core of the apple, and the two pieces fall away in his palm, something is wrong. Very wrong.
His hand retracts in an instant, sends the apple flying, maggots spilling onto the ground into a writhing mass. His stomach is churning, twisting itself in disgust at the sight, and his father stomps it with his boot.
“That one was rotten,” Hank says, pulls the knife from Derek’s hand, “No good. It’s no good.”
Even when the apples are done baking, he can’t stand the sight of them, can’t stomach it after seeing the rotten fruit.
“Tenderness is a sign of rot,” Hank informs him as he eats his slices, “They shouldn’t be soft. That’s how you know they’re bad.”
And he takes that sentiment with him. Even when his father dies, especially when his father dies. He doesn’t cry at the funeral, he starts lashing out at anyone and everyone because to be soft is a sign of rot, of corruption at the core, it makes you undesirable and unwanted and sickening. Keep the toughest rind and you will come out the other side strong.
So he picks fights, even with the kids he knows will beat him. He’s always been a tall kid but Rodney has always been taller, stronger, but to turn the other cheek is a soft man’s path, and Derek Morgan is not soft.
He picks fights and he loses them, comes home battered and bruised and his mother will fuss over him, press a bag of frozen peas to his eye and sing him to sleep. She doesn’t care if he’s too old for it, he’ll always be her son. And even when the pain runs more than skin-deep, crawls through his veins and writhes like a maggot, sickly and decay-drawn, she will cradle his body like he isn’t crumbling from the inside out.
When Derek is 11, it’s the first Thanksgiving since his dad died. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Sarah and Fran work on dinner, and Desiree’s out in the backyard with the neighbour’s kids. His grandparents aren’t coming this year, something about the Chicago winters being cruel on their arthritis.
There’s a faint layer of snow already beginning to settle outside, and he can see the constellations of snowflakes in Desiree’s hair as she finally bids the neighbours farewell and comes tumbling inside, ready to bound up the stairs.
“You promised you’d help me with the apple pie,” Sarah chides as she scoops Desiree up in her arms. The girl laughs loud and gleeful, the first real laugh since the day began, wriggles as she tries to escape her older sister’s grip. Desiree is a big girl now, 6 years old and wide-eyed and too mischievous for her own damn good, and she’s too big now for Sarah to pick her up with ease but she tries anyway.
Derek steps out, takes Desiree from Sarah’s grasp and slings her over his shoulder, grinning at the shrieks he hears.
“Come on, Des,” He laughs, “You promised!”
So, whilst his mom cooks the turkey and the mash and the myriad of thanksgiving side dishes, the three Morgan children converge in the living room, and work on the apples. Sarah peels them and Derek slices them, and Desiree just watches with her big brown eyes and pretends she's helping, because Lord knows no one trusts her with a real knife.
When they’re done there’s a pile of peels in a bowl. Their mom takes it, a sparkle in her eye.
“You know,” she says, grinning and setting down her knife, “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you throw the peel behind your shoulder, it will spell your husband’s name.”
Desiree and Sarah dissolve into giggles. Desiree’s too young to know what true love like that really feels like, too young to be thinking about marriage and life as an adult. And Sarah’s approaching it closer and closer with each passing day, she’s had her heart broken by careless boys to want nothing but a guarantee that the next boy will be the one.
So they take the peels and throw them. Desiree’s looks sort of like an L from the right angle, and Sarah’s is an A, if you use a bit of imagination, and Derek doesn’t get anything because he refuses to try it.
“That’s for girls,” he scoffs, puffs his chest up like a proud robin all red and strong.
“You’re impossible,” Is the response he gets.
When he is 15 he finds a boy’s body in the junkyard. All battered and bruised and broken and he wishes he could press a bag of frozen peas to his head like his mother had done, tell this boy it would all be okay. But it won’t be okay, and the case is never solved because the police don’t seem to care for kids like Derek or the boy, seem for focused on pinning things on them than catching their killers.
When he sees the policeman shake the community centre owner’s hand, Derek knows his killer will not be caught.
He goes door to door and pools up enough money to buy a headstone, and he visits it whenever he can, touches the cool rock and feels himself break. And he doesn’t know this boy, know his face or his name, but they feel connected. Through space and time and tragedy, maybe in another life they were friends. Maybe in another life it was him, and he would be the one rotting in the ground.
Move forward a few years and he feels like something inside of him is broken. Like he’s been torn apart and stitched back together again but something went wrong in the process. He feels moldy, he thinks one day as he’s filling out college applications, disgusting. If he could he’d rip all his skin off and scrub himself spotless. But this runs deeper than skin.
He gets the football scholarship, and his mother cries when he reads the letter because her baby is going to Northwestern and he’s gonna be something great, bigger than himself, he’s gonna change the world. And the success feels like the pinprick in the lid for him, like he can finally breathe as there’s a chance for him to go. Leave those rotten parts of him behind.
After college and the Chicago department, he finds himself starting in the BAU. The team is pretty small - Hotch is a hard-ass and Gideon is, well, Gideon, and the liaison stays in her office too much for Derek to really know who she is, but the BAU feels right for him. Gideon’s got some kid on his radar and so does Hotch, but they’re both so frustratingly secretive that he has no clue who they could be.
He fits right in like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for so long, takes on a role as the ladies’ man and the handsome coworker who flirts with you over coffee, but also the guy who’ll sit with child victims for hours to make sure they’re alright. Hotch hasn’t booted him yet so he figures he’s doing something right.
And then he meets her.
Penelope Garcia, she introduces herself as, and she’s so unlike any girl he’s ever met before with her long, dark hair and she acts like she’s the smartest person in the room (and after a few hours interrogating her, he figures that sentiment isn’t too far off). She’s got these big curious eyes and glittery pink acrylics and he can see the person that sits behind the dark facade.
They don’t hit it off, at first, because he’s proud and she’s defensive and he has a job to complete, but then Hotch informs him of the deal that’s been made, so he better start trying to get along with her. She gets along great with JJ, they eat lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ and JJ’s finally starting to open up a bit more, actually talks to Derek at the coffee machine in the mornings and asks how he’s been. Before, she’d talk to him, or Hotch, or Gideon even, with strained words and avoiding eye contact.
The first time he calls her babygirl is the first time he sees her properly flustered, cheeks red and stammering as she types away at her keyboard and Hotch gives him the mother of all death glares because they’re trying to run an FBI investigation here, Derek. But it makes him smile, seeing her all blushed pink, and he decides he likes it.
She pretends she doesn’t struggle sometimes, and he sees it. The mass of figurines and posters in her office are just a distraction technique - he’s well versed in those - and he knows just how taxing it must be for her, seeing all those awful things. She loves and she loves like it’s the only thing she knows how to do, full-bodied and all in, and some days he wonders if she’s really capable of hatred at all.
“How can you do it? How do you deal with it all?” She asks one day over coffee, voice small and sad. She’s seen some awful things over the past few days, and he wraps her up tightly in her arms. The worst thing is - he doesn’t know what to say. For as long as he can remember, he’s just been pushing it away and ignoring it. Letting it sit inside him and simmer, rip him from the inside out and just pray he’ll be able to pick up the pieces once he finally falls apart.
Things shift, change, over the years as people come and go. There’s a new kid, one Gideon’s been raving about for months who’s finally gotten all the necessary qualifications, even if some exams had to be waived. And he gets hurt, gets hurt bad, and Derek wonder’s if that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because it isn’t long before Gideon leaves. There’s a new man in his place and they’re still trying to trust him, but he just isn’t Gideon, he isn’t the mentor and the peacekeeper and the caretaker that they’ve all grown to need.
Penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. With each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. And he can’t look away.
She has a date. She has a date and he doesn’t know why there’s this ache in his chest, like something’s been scraped out from him and left him hollow. But it’s her choice, he figures, he doesn’t own her. And then he gets the phone call.
Shot, he hears Hotch say over the phone, voice crackled and rough, and it’s like everything in him shuts down. Like someone’s ripping him apart limb by limb. That motherfucker. He will not know kindness from me. Do you need me? He asks, but Hotch just sighs.
She needs you.
And he’s driving to the hospital but he’s so pissed he can barely even focus, consumed by the rage bubbling within him, he wants to find that son of a bitch and make him feel a thousand times what Penelope felt. His skin is itching like thousands of maggots are crawling across him, it’s so overwhelming.
He feels rotten, like he’s so full of pain he can barely breathe, and his cheeks are wet and he doesn’t know why they are until he reaches up to touch them, realises he’s crying.
Men like Morgan do not cry. It’s a sign of weakness, he thinks, and you cannot afford to be weak. Not here, not now, you have never been safe enough to be weak. You bottle it up and ignore it, because to be soft is to be rotten.
He flashes his badge to the hospital receptionist and she informs him with pitying eyes that Penelope is in emergency surgery, that he can wait until she’s out and hear the verdict. So he collapses into the waiting room chairs, unable to look at the others, waits for Penelope to be okay.
Waiting lasts a century. All he wants is to take her in his arms and let her know she’s going to be okay, but he can’t. He can’t even guarantee that it will all be fine, because from what he’s heard it’s a bad wound from a good shot and it’s not looking good.
See, Penelope is an apple tree. She gives and she gives and she asks for nothing in return but a spot in the sun and a love her body has been starved of for years. And all Derek wants is to drown in blossom petals and cider, to drown himself in her warmth. All she asks for is to be loved, and that bastard didn’t even try. Derek will try, he will try and he will pray to a God he does not even believe in (Goddamnit he’s trying, he’s trying) if it means he can love her, if it means that she will be there to receive his love.
When the surgeon comes back, gives them the news, everything in him relaxes. Like the tightly-wound coil of a music box as the lever is finally released. She’s okay, she will be okay, no one must die today.
Her makeup is gone, hair a knotted mass, she’s traded out the bright clothes and heavy jewellry for a hospital gown. And she’s as breathtaking as ever, and Morgan can’t look away. He wants to reach out and hold her hand, press his forehead against hers, let her know that he’s here and everything is going to be okay, tell her how glad he is that she’s alive.
“You really love her, huh?” JJ asks with a smile, looks up at Morgan with a piercing, knowing gaze once they file out of the room, split up the group. She’s cradling a to-go coffee cup in her hands and disshevelled - she’d been the first one at the hospital, been in charge of letting everyone else know.
It’s JJ that knows Penelope the best, if not Derek. She knows the ins-and-outs of their relationship, she can see what they’re too scared to say to eachother. Love, he thinks, this is what this is.
“I do.” He nods.
“So tell her- show her, god knows she needs you right now.”
He waits until the others have left Penelope’s hospital room. The thing is - he flirts with her all the time, has himself branded as a ladies man, but it’s been so long since he’s had something real. He’s always been too afraid to show that tender side that a relationship requires.
But he’s tired of holding back. Penelope softens him, turns all his harsh edges hazy, makes his heart wrench in his chest. He has forgotten what it means to be rotten.
So he sits himself at the edge of her bed, doesn’t care if any of the others can see him through the window, all that matters is here and now.
“I almost lost you,” he says, voice soft, “I was so scared- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you’d gone besides tear the bastard apart.”
He scoots closer, chair handle digging into him as he leans into her. His hand cups her face, feels her warm skin against his cool palm, heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. She’s alive, good god, and she’s here with him, and maybe everything will be okay.
His forehead presses against Penelope’s own and she seems to welcome the movement, twists a handful of his shirt in her grip like she can’t bear the thought of ever letting him go. Derek has never wanted to be loved more than right now, loved by her.
He’d bite the apple for her, Derek thinks, swallow it down seeds and all. Because he loved her, he didn’t care if the fruit was rotten or wretched, damnation was a gift if he was condemned alongside her. He’d run to the edges of the world where all that could reach them was the moon and the stars, and he’d tell Penelope how he hung them just for her.
Kissing her feels like breaking the water’s surface. Being reborn, baptised under her hands, and for what feels like the first time, he can breathe.
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gokailyger84 · 7 years
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Angsty Polybomb. Arin having a hard time. Missing Dan and Brian during tour. He thought that staying could help him with his stress and work done but his anxiety is even worse now that he miss them so much. Thx
I changed this a bit
Arin let out a frustrated groan, yanking his headphones off.  He pushedaway from his desk and leaned back in his chair, staring up at theceiling. 
He was currently in his private office at the grump space.  He was theonly one there, as it was late and everyone had packed up and headedhome. 
Except for him, he still had a mountain of emails to get through.  Whowould have thought, being the president of a company was so stressful andtime-consuming. 
CEOs made it look so easy and Arin was just in charge of a small gamingchannel.  He couldn’t imagine how he’d be if he actually had an officebuilding filled with hundreds of employees. 
Arin stood up, putting his monitor to sleep. 
He needed a break. 
Walking out of the office and into the kitchen area, he opened therefrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. 
Leaning against the counter, sipping from the bottle, he pulled out hisphone. 
He saw he had a few notifications on his phone.  Each one from the NSPtwitter, instagram, and Dan’s instagram. 
Arin hesitated. 
He had been purposely avoiding any thoughts of the Rock Hard tour.  Hestill felt guilty for having to drop out of it.  He hated letting peopledown, especially those he cared about. 
Dan and Brian insisted that they understood.  That he always had a loton his plate and couldn’t continue to justify being on the road for weeks, whenhe was only on stage a max of ten minutes. 
As much as Arin loved performing, it wasn’t enough, when the shows usuallyran three hours. 
Another reason he had been avoiding any news, was that he just missed Danand Brian.  Ever since the three of them started dating each other, hefelt their absence more significantly than before. 
While he still had, his loving and supportive wife, Arin still would findhimself longing to hear Dan’s laugh or Brian teasing someone. 
The two men had become a pretty significant part of his life without himeven realizing it.  Becoming more intimate with them had only increasedthat significance. 
Now he was missing being curled up in bed between them.  Quietlygiggling with Dan, as they thought of all the things Brian’s horrendous snoringreminded them of. 
He missed sitting on the couch with them in Brian’s living room, watchingdumb movies, while Brian loudly pointed out ever inaccuracy and Dan made cruderemarks. 
Arin opened the notification on the NSP instagram.  There was a pictureof Dan and Brian, still in costume holding a cake that had “Congrats on 1Meeellion Sucks” written in frosting. 
Arin looked up in thought.  He switched to the NSP youtube channel andlooked at their subscription count. 
That was right.  They had passed one million subs. 
Had he congratulated them?  Probably not.  He would need to. 
Arin then opened Dan’s instagram.  He watched the video of the New Yorkcrowd cheering for Granny Sexbang. 
It looked amazing. 
Arin felt another stab of guilt.  He had forgotten. 
NSP had started in New York.  Dan and Brian met each other there. 
He remembered getting a text from Dan, earlier in the day.  He was soexcited.  His and Brian’s family and friends were all there.  Thisshow was significant. 
Arin put his phone down. 
He should have been there. 
Maybe not for the whole tour but this show.  New York was a morespecial show than the one in Chicago.  New York was theirhomecoming. 
From performing for a handful of people to eight years later, performing asold out show to thousands. 
Dan and Brian had come a long way…and Arin wasn’t there to celebrate withthem. 
Arin sat down at the table, putting down the bottle of water and hisphone.  He lowered his head, resting it in his upturned hands. 
Some boyfriend he was.  He was such a selfish bastard. 
Arin just sat there, unmoving.  His mind filling with regrets.  With what he should have done. 
He barely heard the loud buzzing of his phone.  Lifting his head, hesaw he had an incoming facetime call. 
It was Dan. 
Arin just stared at the phone. 
He couldn’t talk to Dan. 
Not now. 
Not face to face. 
Not after what he had done. 
He continued to watch as the call went to voice mail. 
Almost immediately after he received two text messages.  One from Danand one from Brian. 
Arin ignored those too. 
He stared at his now quiet phone and jumped when it started buzzingagain. 
This time it was Suzy. 
Arin considered not answering but hecouldn’t do that to his wife. 
He sighed heavily and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Arin?  Are you okay?  Why aren’t you answering your phone?  Danand Brian are trying to contact you.”
Arin ran a hand over his head, smoothing back the loose strands from hisponytail. 
“Sorry, Suzy.  I just…can’t talk to them right now.” 
“What?  Why not?”  Suzy asked.  Her tone full ofconfusion. 
It had taken a lot on her part to convince Arin it was okay for him to datethe two older men.  He had had a lot of worries and insecurities.  Particularly,centered on their relationship.  She thought she had squelched his fearsand he had moved past that. 
Afterall, it’d been months since the three men got together.
Arin let out a puff of air, feeling the irritation within himselfreturning. 
He vaguely heard a distant beeping.
“I should have been there, Suz.  With them.  Tonight wasimportant.  So fuckin’ important.” 
“Oh, Arin.”  Suzy began, now understanding what was going on. 
She had seen the posts.  Arin was feeling guilty. 
“They understand.  They know you would’ve been there if youcould.  You have a lot t-”
“That’s not it Suzy.”  Arin said interrupting. 
“This was the night.  Their homecoming.  All of theirfamily and friends were there, supporting them.” 
Arin rubbed angrily at his stinging eyes.  He refused to let himselfcry. 
“And me, their boyfriend wasn’t there.  I could’ve taken a flight andcome back.  What if they think my work is more important than them?”
The phone was silent for a few moments.  So long, that Arin wondered ifhe’d been disconnected.
“Suzy?”
“What the fuck, Arin.”  An all too familiar gruff voice said. 
“You know we don’t believe that, babygirl.” 
Arin took in a slow breath.  Understanding dawning on him.  That beeping he had heard.  
Suzy had merged calls with Dan and Brian. 
He swallowed thickly.
“Uh, how much did you hear?”  Arin cautiously asked.
“Enough to know you’re being a fucking idiot.”  Brian said dryly. 
Arin winced at that.  There was some rustling. 
“Brian, chill.  Arin, what he meant to say was that you shouldn’t feelbad for not being here.  It’s okay.  I mean, if it wasn’t for you,NSP wouldn’t have come this far.” 
“But, I’m your boyfriend.  I should have been there.”  Arinreplied.  His voice coming out in a whisper.
“Arin, look.”  Brian started, sounding slight miffed.  “Yes,you’re our boyfriend.  Yes, it would have been great if you werehere.  But it’s okay.  Like Dan said, you’re the reason we made ithere in the first place.  None of this would have been possible withoutyou.” 
“You’ve done more than enough for us, Arin.”  Dan said, cuttingin.  “You helped our dreams come true.  Giving me a chance on grumps,bringing Brian and I back together.  There is no possible way we couldthink you don’t care about us.  We’re not going to be upset at you becauseyou have other responsibilities.  We’re not going to love you less.”
Arin bit his lip, thinking over what he was just told. 
Was it really okay? 
Dan and Brian and Suzy seemed to think so. 
Had he overreacted?  Let his fears consume him? 
He was so lucky.  He had a wonderful wife and two boyfriends who lovedhim unconditionally.  What had he done to deserve this? 
Dan and Brian and even Suzy always said that he made a difference in theirlives and well, Arin could say the same thing. 
They all made him a better person.  Made him want to try harder. 
Made him want to succeed. See them succeed. 
All of them succeeding, together.
“Arin?”  He heard Suzy ask. 
Her voice was hesitant, as if she was worried he’d be mad at her.
As if he could ever be mad at her.
“I’m okay, Suzy.  And thank you.  All of you.  You guys knowhow my head gets sometimes.” 
Brian snorted.  “Boy, do we ever.”  A loud smack sounded. 
“Ow!  What the hell, Dan.  I’m not lying.” 
“We’re here for you, Ar.”  Dan said, ignoring his partner.  “Butyou gotta let us know what’s going on up there. We can’t read your mind.”  
A snort.  “Maybe you can’t.”  Another smack.  “Danny, I swear to god.”
“Please don’t shut us out, Arin.”  Dancontinued.  “The only way we can workthrough things is to talk to each other.”
Arin nodded to himself, feeling a small sting of guilt.
“I know and…I’m sorry.” 
Arin then paused.  A small smile forming on his lips. 
“Congratulations on one Meellion sucks.”  He said in his best Aviimpression. 
Dan and Brian burst out laughing.  Suzy lightly giggling in thebackground.
“Thank you, Arin.  We couldn’t be more grateful.”  Dan said.
“And when we get home, we’ll make sure to suck you for each one.” Brian added. 
“Brian!”  Dan exclaimed.
“What? You know we will.” 
Arin let out a laugh.
“I love you guys.” 
“We love you too, buddy.” 
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