#’you are your fathers daughter and i’ll fucking kill you too’ kind of drama you know what i’m saying?????

[essskel]

if (and hopefully/probably when) Iorveth comes back I think i’d actually prefer that his conflict be with Ves if it came down to any specific person. Like Roche is such old news in the game storyline and he got his ending in a semi-truce with Nilfgaard.

but Ves has so much of her life before her and stands to direct the future values and operations of the Temerian military in a more active sense than an aging Roche. I’d just love to see how she internalizes Roche’s teachings, and if she’d be able to finally break the cycle and begin to repay Iorveth and the Elves through her own service, or if she’d succumb to the environment that raised her and become another member of the ‘dying species’ that Iorveth has to laugh at as it withers away

[boxofbonesfic]

Pattycakes (Chapter 5)

Title: Pattycakes

Summary: Like they say, it really does just take one time... Patricia Hodgins knows that better than anyone. She’s got even worse luck when it comes to her child’s father: Billionaire playboy Thor Odinson. He’s selfish and manipulative; and Patty’s not sure which outcome frightens her more—killing him or letting him worm his way into her heart.

Pairing: Thor x Black OFC

Rating: Explicit

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Warnings: Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Mildly dubious consent, Breeding Kink, Age Difference (significant but not extreme), Stalking (light stalking though lol), Past Relationships, Class drama, Dad!Thor, Character improvement

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to move this chapter over here, I got kind of busy, and just was feeling bleh, but I’m here with the updates! 😂 

This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! 😘

🍼

Chapter 5: Rock-a-bye

Thor’s secret gets out, and Patricia is forced to confront some hard truths.

“Mommy where my room?” Amelia’s excited squeal echoed loudly through the large apartment. She’d kicked her shoes off as soon as they arrived in the penthouse, bouncing excitedly around the open space. Thor had already called the movers—and paid them too. 

  He’d meant it when he’d told Patricia he didn’t want any more delays. And when he hadn’t heard from her, he’d decided to go straight to the source. Why argue with Patricia over texts when he could do it in person, staring down her low cut t-shirt as she fought against the inevitable? 

  There was little Thor had ever wanted that he hadn’t gotten, whether through privilege, or by simply taking it, and though he couldn’t explain it, he wanted…Patricia. Amelia. And if the only way he could get them was by exploiting Patricia’s fear that he might win a custody battle, Thor wasn’t above doing so.

  He’d been so close to fucking her right there in the kitchen—it probably wouldn’t have taken too much more convincing—but his daughter’s riotous giggles made him second guess the urge. Besides, it was better to only push one agenda at a time, and it was clear that having Patricia’s obedience would take more than idle threats. You caught more flies with honey, as the saying went. 

  “I don’t know baby. I think upstairs?” She asked, turning to look at Thor, who nodded. 

  “Yes. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

  Amelia scampered up the stairs, half crawling on her hands and knees. She ran the few feet to the first door, pointing as he came up behind her, eyes wide with excitement. “Dis one?!” He hoped Amelia liked her new room—he’d spent time poring over every furniture catalogue he could get his hands on, and though some things hadn’t come in yet, he was fairly confident that he’d done a good job. 

  “Yes, Amelia, this is your room now.” He reached past her to open the door, and Amelia shot inside just as Patricia came up the stairs and rounded the corner. There was a huge bay window on one side, and the stark white walls had been painted a soft yellow, with images of horses running all along it—he knew she liked horses, and had asked specifically for them to be included. The plain light fixture in the center of the ceiling had been replaced with a hanging moon and star. She didn’t have a bed, or furniture set up, though the pieces lay against the wall, waiting to be assembled. 

  “This is a nice room, Thor.” Patricia said tightly. He could see she meant it, even if it was grudging. It was substantially larger than the room she’d had in Patricia’s apartment—it was easily double it’s size, with room for a much bigger corner for Amelia’s books and bean bag. The view—which she would only come to appreciate when she was older—was nothing to sneeze at either. The city lay spread out before her like a picture, the fading afternoon sun painting the room even brighter gold And that wasn’t even mentioning the antique rocking horse he'd stationed in one corner, or drivable miniature car in the other. He hadn’t quite been able to curb the urge to shower her with gifts—make up for lost time. 

  “You should say thank you, Amelia.” Patricia instructed, sighing with resignation. “Jesus, is that a mini Maserati?” She muttered, cutting her eyes at him. 

  “Thank you,” She repeated dutifully. “Mommy, where my books?” She asked, looking around confusedly. Her brows furrowed as she looked between the two of them, waiting for an explanation. 

  “They’ll be here tomorrow, with everything else from the old apartment,” Thor answered. He knew, of course, that that meant they would be sleeping with him that night, but he didn’t mind the thought of it quite so much, so long as Patricia kept Amelia’s tiny fists and feet away from his head. Instead of being reassured, Amelia’s face crumpled further as her lip trembled. “You don’t have to worry about them, they’ll be here.” He meant for it to be an assurance, but he could tell it wasn’t taking. 

  “But I want them now!” She whined, peering up at him with watery eyes before turning to her mother as though she would get a different answer. “Mommy!”

  “They’re on the truck, Mels, like Thor said. Mommy can’t get them. You’re just going to have to be a big girl and get by with the books we have for tonight.” Patricia crouched down and tried to rub a soothing hand across Amelia’s cheek, but it seemed she wouldn’t be deterred, pushing her mother’s hand away fiercely. 

  “No, now!” She argued, her voice rising in volume until she was yelling. Patricia knelt in front of her, trying to calm her down, but it appeared too late for that. Thor grimaced. Thus far, all of his interactions with Amelia had been wonderful. She’d been very good on their walk to the store, holding his hand, and chattering at him quicker than he had time to process it. Now, however, her toffee colored cheeks were red with anger, and she rubbed her teary eyes as she stomped her foot. 

  “Amelia, enough.” He said sternly, crossing his arms. His voice was loud and authoritative, with the intent of stopping her fit in its tracks. This only served to incense her further, and she burst into tears, wailing loudly as she crumbled to the floor in a tantrum. Oh shit. Patricia heaved an exasperated sigh, and glared up at him

  “Real nice, Thor.” She muttered, picking the screaming toddler up and cradling her to her chest as she continued to cry and struggle. “Don’t yell at her like that.” She snapped, stroking Amelia’s hair. Thor wanted to interject that he hadn’t yelled at her, but he doubted that distinction would matter to his wailing daughter and her irritated mother. 

  “She didn’t nap today, we’ve been moving around a lot, it’s no wonder she’s feeling testy.” Patricia explained, rolling her eyes. Thor could tell there were more words she wanted to let loose, scathing ones that would likely set his own temper raging. Her tone made it clear she felt the information she was dispensing was obvious— To you, maybe. He groused inwardly. 

  Amelia whimpered in her arms, and she grimaced. “Where am we sleeping? I’m going to try and put her down for a nap, it’s the only thing that’ll stop this.” She said quietly, and Thor fought the wide grin that threatened to spread across his face. Patricia had requested her own room—a request Thor had not fulfilled. 

  “Your bed isn’t here yet either.” He replied smoothly, not bothering to keep the smug smirk off of his face. Patricia glared at him, tight lipped and marched past him back out into the hallway, likely heading for his bedroom. Thor couldn’t help but enjoy riling Patty up. He hadn’t changed many things there either, and he saw her stop and roll her eyes at his massive bed before crawling onto it and laying Amelia down. 

  Amelia was still sniffling, clinging tightly to her mother as she tried to extricate herself. “Mels, I’m just going to go get your bottle from the bag downstairs—”

  “No!” She sobbed, holding tighter. “No, no, mommy!” Patricia looked up at Thor helplessly. Amelia had graduated from attempting to push Patricia away to refusing to let go of her, wailing. 

  “Can you get the duffel bag from downstairs, please? I think I have a bottle all made up for her already.” 

  “A bottle? Patricia she’s three.” He said disbelievingly. He knew little about child rearing, it was true, but surely three was too old to still be drinking from a bottle, wasn’t it? The vitriol with which Patty was glaring at him, however, spoke otherwise. 

  “Yes, Thor. Three. ” Her voice carried an air of finality that made Thor bristle, and he opened his mouth to respond—but was cut off by Amelia’s loud sniffle. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room. The bag Patricia had mentioned was sitting by the steps, and upon opening it Thor saw that it was full of things for Amelia. Changes of clothes, small toys, snacks, and formula for toddlers. In one of the side pockets, he found a lidded sippy cup containing what he assumed was Amelia’s juice. 

  When he returned to his bedroom, Patricia was seated cross-legged in the center of the bed, rocking a still testy Amelia back and forth as she rubbed soothing circles on her back. The toddler eyed him suspiciously as he crawled onto the bed on his knees awkwardly, holding her bottle. “Here, Amelia.” He patted his lap, hoping to entice her into sitting with him while she drank it, but Amelia let out a distrustful little whine and fidgeted. 

  “Come on, Mels. Thor went and got your bottle for you, what do we say?” She looked down at the fussy child in her lap. Amelia scowled and threw a frustrated little fist at the bed beside them. “Amelia.” Patricia replied sternly. “What do we say?” 

  “...Thank you.” 

  “Okay. Now do you want to go sit—” Patricia’s voice was drowned out by an answering wail as Amelia shook her head so hard her hair flew around it wildly.

  “No, don’t wanna! No, mommy!” Patricia looked apologetically at Thor, who handed her the bottle without further argument. He couldn’t keep the angry look off of his face, however, and he heard Patricia swallow audibly. Amelia calmed instantly, holding the handles on either side of the bottle as her eyes grew lidded. Patricia continued to rock her slowly, patting her back when she let out a sad little hiccup. 

  Thor rose from the bed, his fists clenched tightly. Why? Why would she react so poorly to him? They’d been just fine the other morning when he’d taken her out to help him get breakfast. It just… didn’t make sense. Thor narrowed his eyes as he made his way back downstairs, and over to the liquor cabinet. It was late afternoon, but it wasn’t as though he had anything else to do. By the time Patricia joined him at the table, he’d downed two glasses of scotch already. 

  “Starting early?” She asked snippily as she sat down across from him, her lips pursed with distaste.

  “What are you telling Amelia about me?” He asked bluntly. Patricia’s mouth fell open in surprise and she sputtered. “She hates me.” The bitterness he’d been trying unsuccessfully to keep out of his voice dripped steadily from his words. What he wasn’t expecting, was a surprised peal of laughter from Patricia, who quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as her shoulders continued to shake. Thor gripped his glass tighter. “This is amusing to you?” He spat. “We’ll see how amusing it is when my—”

  “Yes, Thor, your lawyers.” Patricia snorted. “You’re this upset because your daughter had a tantrum? Newsflash, Thor: you’re a stranger. ” He bristled at this, but Patricia rolled her eyes and continued. “Amelia doesn’t know you . It takes time to build that kind of relationship. You can’t buy it,” She replied pointedly. 

  Thor took another angry sip of his drink. He knew it was silly to expect her to latch onto him like she clearly did Patricia, but he still couldn’t help the burning jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him. In his mind, it was even less fair because Amelia hadn’t had the time or the choice to get to know him. 

  “I’m not telling her bad things about you, Thor.” Patricia said softly, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. “I promise.” He studied her face for a moment, looking for the lie—but found none. He hadn’t realized how much he really wanted her to stare at him with the same adoration until he’d found she didn’t. A

  He drained his glass and sighed. “I suppose I just… She’s my daughter too,” He replied, somewhat petulantly. Patricia nodded. 

  “She is, I’m not denying that.” Any more. “She’ll come around, Thor. You just have to be patient. Amelia’s a sweet kid, I’m sure…” Patty sighed long-sufferingly. “I’m sure she’ll love you in no time.” Surprisingly, Patricia’s platitudes did make him feel just a little better. Were it Idunn, she’d be sulking until he bought her something shiny and expensive. Patricia cleared her throat. “Can we talk about my bed?” 

  Thor rolled his eyes. Here we fucking go. “It’s not here yet.” He lied smoothly, declining to mention the fact that he hadn’t ordered it. It had been nice waking up with Patricia and Amelia, and even better to fall asleep with Patty’s body fitted so snugly into the hollow of his own. 

  “Thor, please. Let’s not play this game. I can buy it myself if you’re feeling too prickly about it.” Thor furrowed his brow at her jab.

  “I can afford a bed for you.” He scoffed. 

  “So what, you just don’t want to?” She snapped. “I meant it when I said we should be focusing on Amelia. Isn’t that the whole reason you’re doing all...this?” 

  Patricia was half right. He did want to involve himself in his daughter’s life, and he did want to be present for her. At the same time, the virulent desire to punish Patricia for her transgressions remained. Along with it, was the strange urge to have her wholly and completely to himself. He understood it about as well as as he cared to—Thor was more in the habit of assuaging his desires than he was into examining them. 

  “I’m doing this, Patricia,” he said smoothly, grasping her hand in his own and stroking his large thumb over her knuckles. “Because you owe me.” He could see the indignation and anger on her facial features. “Because you took something from me that I can never replace.” He would never see Amelia learn to walk, or to talk, there was no amount of money that would rewind the years for him. 

  “Thor, I—”

  “You what, Patricia?” He asked, bringing her hand up to his lips. He felt her shudder at the contact. 

  She snatched her hand from his to point at him accusingly. “Look. I’m not doing this with you, Thor. I said I would come here so that… so that you wouldn’t take her from me, not so that you could make me into a housepet!” Thor gritted his teeth. Brute force had always worked well for him, but he kept butting up against seemingly impenetrable walls when it came to Patricia. It would be much harder to force her hand with Amelia around, he knew. Perhaps it was time to employ the same technique he had with Stark—give just a little, to get a whole lot more. 

He wanted Patricia—wanted her as often as he could have her with as little resistance as possible. 

  “Fine.” He’d caught her mid-sentence, and Patricia sputtered, the steam going out of her in her surprise. 

  “I—what?” 

  “I said fine. I’ll have something here in an hour.” He sent off an irritated text to one of his many “assistants”, instructing them to pick up a queen sized bed from the closest Pottery Barn—it didn’t matter what it looked like, Patricia wouldn’t be using it very long if he had his way. And Thor Odinson usually had his way.

  “Oh.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Really? I-I can pay for it myself,” She said again, and Thor shook his head. 

  “I’ll take care of it. I told you I would, so I will.” Patricia’s trust— and her compliance— wouldn’t come easily. 

  When Clint finally came by with the movers, Patricia was almost as excited as Amelia, bouncing on her toes as they unloaded the bed. They set everything up easily, and when Thor brought a set of sheets for her, she was laying in the center with her legs dangling off of the side. She sat up to look at him quizzically. 

  “Thank you, Thor.” She said grudgingly. “I… Just...thanks.” 

  “You’re welcome, Patricia.” He deposited them on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, he found himself tempted to tug her forward for a kiss—but dismissed it. That wasn’t the relationship they had. He watched her struggle with the bedspread for a few amusing minutes before crossing the hallway back into his own room. Amelia was still sleeping soundly in the center of his bed, snoring softly. Patricia had surrounded her with pillows, which Amelia had prompt spread out over, her arms and legs sticking out at awkward angles. 

  In spite of himself, Thor smiled. Adorable. It had been a long day for her, waking up early to pack as many boxes as they could, and then sitting in the car while Patricia and Thor sniped back and forth at one another. No wonder she was tired and cranky. Maybe Patricia was right. He sat down on the bed gingerly, careful not to disturb her too much. It really was amazing, how much she looked like both of them. She wrinkled her nose in her sleep, and Thor grinned. 

  “Real cute when she sleeps, isn’t she?” Patricia asked quietly from behind him. She’d clearly bested the fitted sheet, and was now standing next to the bed, quietly observing their daughter alongside him. “Sometimes I can’t believe I made her.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise an unconscious hand to her stomach. Unexpected bitterness filled him—-he’d missed that as well. 

  “Did you… I mean, did you always want….” Thor trailed off, unsure of how to ask. If he’d been in her position, he couldn’t say he’d have kept a baby. Unmarried, fresh out of school… For the first time, Thor fleetingly thought about what it must have been like for her. Had her parents supported her? Had they been disappointed? He swallowed thickly at the thought; the weight of Odin’s disappointment was often crushing. 

  “Did I want an abortion?” Patricia asked, and for the first time when their eyes met, there was no anger or hurt in them. “At first, yeah.” She admitted. “But I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. I kept making the appointments and missing them.” Her voice was quiet. Thor didn’t really know anything about her pregnancy—he’d never bothered to even ask. “And then I was a month and a half pregnant, and by then I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.” 

  Thor felt another pang of jealousy. He’d never gotten to see her pregnant, to go to ultrasounds or feel the baby kick. Would I have gone if I’d known? He shook his head. It didn’t matter what he would have done—because he’d never gotten the chance to do it. He wondered if she’d known the baby’s gender before the birth or after. 

  Patricia moved forward, leaning past him to reach for Amelia. She fussed a little, but Amelia hushed her, cradling her in her arms as she fell quickly back asleep. 

  “Thank you again for the bed, Thor.” Her thanks were earnest.

  He heard her door close behind him, and her footsteps faded.

  —

  The next morning, Thor was woken from sleep by the smell of food cooking. He didn’t usually keep the fridge or pantry particularly well stocked, considering he ate out for almost every meal. He frowned, before padding blearily down the stairs. He didn’t normally work Mondays—a caveat of his long weekends, usually spent drinking more alcohol than he cared to remember. It was early for him—before eight—and he rounded the corner into the open kitchen.

  Sausage?

  Patricia was standing in his kitchen, flipping sausage links in a pan while Amelia chattered at the breakfast bar, swinging her legs wildly. 

  “Door! Mommy, Door is here!” She pointed at him, her eyes wide. Thor was tired and he’d woken up feeling particularly cranky, but Amelia was as chipper and excitable as always, paying little heed to his sour mood. Patricia turned to look at him over her shoulder, and Thor felt his mood worsen as she raised a judgmental eyebrow at him. He was tempted again to take her to task, wipe the smug look from her pretty face and make her beg —but Amelia was all too present. 

  “I see him, Mels. What do we say? Good morning, Thor.” Patricia instructed, looking over her shoulder first at Amelia, and then at him. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, her legs and feet bare. Her curly hair was piled messily on top of her head, and round glasses that Thor had never seen her wear before were perched on the edge of her slightly upturned nose. 

  “Good morning, Patricia. Gone grocery shopping, I see.” He said, and she snickered. 

  “Someone had to, this house was emptier than a Mets game.” She replied without missing a beat, glancing at him over her shoulder. 

  “Goo’ Mornin!” Amelia chirped, turning to smile brightly at him, all yesterday’s animosity completely forgotten. She whirled back to her mother, her mouth going a mile a minute. “Mommy I have school today?”

  “Of course you have school today, Mels. It’s Monday. You have to go to school, and Mommy and Thor have to go to work,” She explained. Patty muttered something Thor didn’t quite catch, though he could parse out the phrase “real work” from her grumbling. He felt ire rise in his chest, but he calmed himself. 

  Long con. You’re playing the long con.  

  Patricia brought over a small, colored plastic plate with Amelia’s blunted cutlery on it, and began cutting up her food when Thor stopped her. 

  “I’ll do it. You get ready.” He said, watching her narrow her eyes suspiciously at him. She didn’t fight him on it in front of Amelia, relinquishing the fork and knife wthout a fight. 

  “Oh. Um, okay. Thank you?” It came out as a question, and Thor nodded his head graciously. Patricia lingered for a moment, puttering around the kitchen as she watched them out of the corner of her eye. 

  “You go to work?” Amelia asked him curiously as she chewed. 

  “You should wait until you’re done chewing to talk to people, Amelia. But yes, I’m going to work today.” She chewed thoughtfully, still swinging her little legs. She swallowed before speaking again. “Like your mother.” 

  “Where?”

  “Um. I work in the same building as your school, Amelia. My father owns it.” Her eyes widened, and Thor was surprised by the spark of pride he felt in his chest at her amazed expression. If only your mother was as easily impressed. He continued to cut up her eggs, and sliced the sausage into little pieces. 

  “Wow!” He held the fork out for her, and Amelia grasped it with clumsy fingers. “I like school.” Thor had never really… spoken to a child before. Things he found obvious were completely new to her, but he found the glow in her eyes as she discovered new information to be strangely precious. 

  “What, er… what are you learning in school?” He asked, taking a bite of his own food. Good.  

  “Show and tell! I like show and tell,” Amelia bounced in her seat. “And shapes! Dass a square,” She replied proudly as she pointed at one of the pictures on the wall. Thor heard the shower start upstairs, indicating that Patricia for now, at least, couldn’t interfere. Amelia puffed her little chest out, and Thor got the indication that he was supposed to be impressed, and acted accordingly. 

  “Wow!” He replied in a booming voice, enjoying it when she slapped her tiny hands over her mouth as she giggled. “You’re so smart!” Amelia preened—she was a proud little thing, and it reminded him of himself. There were other similarities, ones he kept noticing the longer he was around her. Her stubbornness, the squared set of her jaw. It was more obvious than ever that Amelia was his— How Patricia thought she could deny the obvious is beyond me. Though he knew Patricia would frown on this line of questioning, she wasn’t there to object. “Amelia, can you tell me about your family?” 

  “Mommy!” She chirped, and Thor nodded, smiling. 

  “Very good. Who else is in your family?” He asked patiently, stroking her head affectionately, testing a loose curl between his fingers. It was looser than her mothers, but still just as soft. 

  “Gramma, and Gampa,” She said slowly, her face screwing up slightly as she thought. “Auntie Wanda! And ‘Merica!” She still hasn’t told her. Thor kept his displeasure off of his face, though it wasn’t easy. Of course Patricia hadn’t told Amelia yet—it was clear her goal was to drive him away before it ever mattered. But Thor was just as, if not more, stubborn than she was, and it would take more than that to keep him from his daughter, now that he knew he had one. the 

  “And what about your father? Daddy?” He asked, and Amelia furrowed her brows in confusion. “Where is he?” 

  “I don’t… I don’t know,” she grimaced. She was fidgeting, glancing all around the room as she frowned. She sniffled, and Thor cursed inwardly. It seemed like this was something Amelia had never really questioned before. He hadn’t meant to upset her, only gauge what she thought. 

  “Mels, what’s wrong?” Patricia’s worried voice came from behind him. Thor turned to see her, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair damp and dripping. “Thor, why is she so upset?” Amelia hopped down from the breakfast bar and ran over to her mother, attaching herself to one of her legs as Patricia glared at him accusingly. 

  “Thor, I was gone ten minutes! ” She hissed. “She looks like she’s about to cry!” It was true, Amelia didn’t really have the words to communicate her confusion, and it was making her upset. Amelia looked tearfully up at her mother. 

  “Mommy, where is Daddy?” 

  ———

  Patricia fumed the entire way to work, and had to fight from cursing when the Asgard building came into view. Amelia bounced excitedly; ready for school, her previous upset already forgotten. 

  “Where is daddy?”

  Patricia had sputtered at her question. Of course Amelia knew about families—they had at least two books about them, packed away in boxes somewhere. She knew about parents, and siblings, but… Patricia had been careful. She made it clear who Amelia’s family was—grandmother, grandfather, her. America and Wanda too—but not Thor. And when Amelia had looked up at her and asked that seemingly simple question, Patricia had been caught between a rock and a hard place. 

  She’d scowled at Thor, whose attempt at placid innocence would have been laughable had it not been painstakingly clear that he was the one who had set Amelia on this course of thought in the first place. Patty wanted to scream—why was he doing this? Was it just to torture her? Had she really done so wrong by keeping her pregnancy from him? Her mind was going around and around in circles, each thought biting the tail of the last. Maybe it had been cruel and selfish, but his current behavior made her feel fairly justified in doing so. 

  He’d been successful in forcing her between a rock and a hard place. If she lied, he would he angry—Patty had swallowed thickly at the thought of his ire. And if she told the truth, there was no way Amelia would be in any shape to go to school today. 

  “He’s… it’s complicated, Amelia. You have a dad, sweetheart.” That reassurance seemed to satisfy her daughter’s worry, and her lip stopped trembling, though she wasn’t quite as bouncy as she had been when Patricia had gotten her up for breakfast just a short while before. Thor hadn’t come with her to drop Amelia off, apparently satisfied with the chaos he’d already managed to sow at seven thirty in the morning. I want to wipe that smug look off his disgustingly handsome face.

  It wasn’t the thought itself that made Patricia start as she ushered Amelia into daycare, but the unnecessary descriptor she’d attached to it without meaning to. Of course Thor was handsome… Her cheeks flamed. 

  “Sorry, we’re a little late this morning,” She said quietly, watching Amelia skip forward past the reception desk and over to one of the small learning areas where other children were being read to as they sat quietly. The receptionist shrugged. 

  “No problem, Miss Hodgins. We’ll see you at pick-up.” 

  The rest of Patty’s day was a blur of activity—sorting new art, returning phone calls. She completed each task mindlessly, her thoughts scattered elsewhere. How do I tell her? The time was rapidly approaching when she would no longer be able to conceal who exactly Thor was to Amelia, and if she didn’t want her daughter to resent her forever, she needed to figure out the best way to do so. 

  Patricia bitterly found herself wondering how Thor would continue to punish her when he could no longer hold Amelia’s hidden parentage over her head—no doubt he would find something. Suddenly, her mind conjured the image of Thor reading to Amelia, her tiny body tucked beside his on the bean bag, bright eyes watching him with rapt attention. In spite of everything, Patricia felt herself melt, just a little. At the very least, it was amusing to watch him attempt to keep up with their daughter’s rapid fire questions, ever changing moods, and seemingly never-ending well of energy. 

  “Patricia, we’ve got some Klein pieces being delivered this evening, do you think you could stay an extra hour or two?” One of the other consultants was poking his head into the back office when she looked up, a pleading expression on his face. “Peggy’s leaving early to take the Judas to the MET for the opening tonight, and I have to go with her to help. You’re the only one who’ll still be around.” 

  Patricia liked Peter Quill well enough as a coworker, and though they were relatively close in age, she often found him just a tad scatterbrained, not to mention immature. Patricia glanced up at the clock—only twenty minutes before the gallery closed. She’d only been working there a few weeks, not long enough to have a standing relationship with anyone. Peter had been there for years—an expert at appraisals. Saying no to him could have consequences. Patricia swallowed nervously. She’d be cutting it close to pick up Amelia, but…

  “Um, sure. I think I can stay. How many pieces are we expecting? Evelynne didn’t say.” 

  He grinned charmingly at her. “You’re a lifesaver, Patty.” Patricia waved him off, shaking her head. “No, seriously. I’m the idiot who double-booked myself.” He joked self-deprecatingly, jerking his thumb in his own direction. “Just two. Delivery guy said they’d probably be here before five.” 

  “No worries, Peter. My pleasure.” Peter crossed the room in two long strides, sweeping Patricia up in a bear hug. She squeaked with surprise, before awkwardly returning the gesture. He released her after a moment, and as Patricia was smoothing her skirt, he leaned against the desk. 

  “Let me repay you. Dinner? Drinks? On me.” 

  “Peter… I don’t really know, I mean you really don’t have to,” she sputtered. He was handsome, funny… But Patty wasn’t one to date her coworkers. Peter held his hands up placatingly. 

  “Totally platonic, I promise,” He replied evenly, lifting his hand to draw an “x” over his heart. “Scouts honor. There’s a couple of us going, a couple of the other consultants, Drax and Gamora. Plus, you know, boss lady’ll be there too.” Patricia felt her shoulders practically sag with relief. She didn’t know if she could take another presence in her close personal life right now—between Amelia and Thor, there wasn’t much of Patricia left to go around if she was being honest. As much as she disliked the father of her child, she couldn’t deny that he occupied more space than she wanted to allow, both physically and in her thoughts. 

  “Well I hope you’re an honorable scout, because I could definitely use a drink. How’s Friday?” She asked, and he nodded. 

  “Be prepared to be serenaded, Drax gets very romantic when he’s drunk. Thanks again, Patty!” He replied, before heading back out of the storeroom. It would be nice to have a night away from Amelia that didn’t included getting the crap grilled out of her by Thor—it would be a welcome respite. 

  Patty finished up her cataloguing, and then headed back to the front desk to wait for the delivery. Johann Klein was no small name in their gallery—a small, Sokovian artist who had gained international fame when his work was featured in a cultural exhibit at the Louvre. No coincidence that he was Wanda’s favorite artist, as a fellow Sokovian—even if she’d been in the states since she was ten. 

  P: We’re getting some Klein pieces in tonight, thought you might want to know so you could come see them, fangirl

  Wanda responded to Patricia’s ribbing almost instantly. 

  W: 🙄 not responding to that. OOOOOOH!! I’ll be there. When’s the gallery open until??? I wanna see! 

  P: We’re closed for the night but we’re open late Thursday. I’ll bring your child, she’s been dying to see you

  W: it’s a date 😘

  It was only half past four, and Patricia amused herself by scrolling on her phone until after five, when she began to feel a little impatient. The daycare closed at six, and while there was no hard rule about pick-up time, Patricia knew that it was likely Amelia wouldn’t have many other children to play with by now, if any were left at all.  Fuck. If she’d still been in Long Island, it wouldn’t have been difficult to have her mother or father pick Amelia up, but it would take over an hour to drive in during rush hour traffic, and Amelia certainly couldn’t wait that long. 

  The last thing Patricia wanted to do was call Thor, but there weren’t many options. As the clock struck half past five, Patricia sighed in defeat, before reluctantly tapping Thor’s contact info. She’d saved his name under Asshole , with several cursing emojis after it. It was childish, but it still made her giggle just a little before she pressed the call button. 

  It rang once, twice, three times before being silenced, and Patricia was abruptly sent to voicemail. She narrowed her brows. Did he just… screen my call? Pursing her lips, Patricia tried again. 

  It took three more calls before Thor’s irritated voice boomed out of the receiver. 

  “What?” He snapped. Patricia could hear what sounded like rustling, and a quiet, feminine giggle, and she rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I’m… in the middle of something.” 

  Balls deep in some one , more like. Patricia didn’t like the spark of jealousy that burned on her tongue as she spoke. 

  “I need you to pick Amelia up from school, Thor.” She said quietly. “I had to stay late at work, and I’m worried I won’t be there by the time they need to close at six.” She heard Thor snort. 

  “I’m busy. ” Another little laugh. The woman said something too quiet to hear, and Patricia could hear movement. 

  Patty knew it probably wasn’t wise to push him. She’d been on the receiving end of his ire since they’d reconnected, and she wasn’t stupid. Patricia knew that she’d only experienced a small portion of his wrath, and was loath to see him follow through on all of his idle threats. But Patricia’s maternal instincts had already begun kicking in, and she wasn’t about to back down now, not when her daughter needed him. 

  “You don’t just get to be a parent when it’s fucking fun, Thor!” She shouted, slamming her hand against the desk so hard she knew he had to have heard it through the phone. “Amelia is alone at daycare, and she needs her father to come get her! If this isn’t what you wanted, you should have left us in fucking Canarsie, we were doing fine without you!” She seethed, her heart racing. She was prepared for the barrage of condescending insults, but he only levied a heavy sigh at her after a few seconds of silence. 

  “I’ll be there.” 

  Patricia ended the call without saying anything further. Her pulse was still racing, her blood roaring in her ears. This was only a small victory, but Patricia felt the pleasure course through her just the same. It was ten to six when the delivery men finally got there, and after six thirty when Patricia had finished logging the paintings into the system, and locked them away safely in the vault all the way at the back of the gallery. 

  She didn’t bother with the train that evening, and simply called a taxi back to Thor’s luxurious apartment. Patricia wondered if she would ever think of it as home. Thor had all the taste of a rich, urban socialite, and though his apartment was gorgeous , it wasn’t… homey, or welcoming. It was cold and impersonal—a perfect reflection of its owner. He hadn’t responded as to whether he’d picked Amelia up or not, but as it was almost seven, she assumed he had. 

  The lobby was almost as sparse and minimal as Thor’s apartment, and the security guard eyed her suspiciously as she fumbled with the card key for the penthouse elevator. I know I don’t belong here either, buddy, Patricia thought bad naturedly as she punched the “close door” button harder than she needed to. When she finally reached the top, the doors slid open and her ears were immediately assailed with Amelia’s excited shrieks. 

  Yep, he got her alright. Patty kicked her shoes off, and padded towards the sounds with stockinged feet. Thor and Amelia were in the living room, and from the looks of things, it had only taken her just over an hour to utterly destroy his simple, clean living space. There were some boxes piled up against the distant walls, indicating that the movers had already dropped their things off. Patricia was surprised to see Amelia’s bean bag at the end of the sleek sectional couch. Patricia took the two short steps down into the sunken living area, peering around. As she observed, Amelia’s head popped up from the other side of the couch, and she shrieked upon seeing her mother, covering her mouth and ducking down again. 

  “Mommy’s here!” She whispered excitedly, her still too-loud voice carrying easily. Thor’s deep answering chuckle made Patricia’s belly do a strange flip-flop. 

  “Is she? Okay, we’re going to jump in three, two—” Thor stood from behind the couch, Amelia clutched in his arms. “Surprise!” Amelia laughed, clamoring out of Thor’s grip and scampering across the rug to slam into Patty’s legs. 

  “Mommy! Mommy, Door came to my school!” She said excitedly, pointing back towards her father. Patricia snorted, before covering her growing smile with her hand. Thor was wearing Amelia’s fairy wings, which were hilariously small on him, and she’d given him the wand that accompanied the costume as well. 

  “I see that! Did you have a good day at school?” She asked sitting down as Amelia clamored into her lap. Amelia began chattering instantly, and Patricia watched Thor settle not too far away, putting the glittery wand down on his once pristine coffee table. 

  “I paint today, mommy!” She said excitedly, showing Amelia her finger-paint stained hands. “And, and, and we play games,” She said seriously, watching Patricia nod as she listened. The living room looked like an Amelia bomb had gone off in it—there were several of her books littering the floor and sitting on the couch, along with at least four toy horses that Patricia could count, and probably what were the entire contents of the dress-up chest that her grandmother had gotten her this past Christmas. 

  Thor looked completely exhausted, though Patty didn’t blame him—it was clear Amelia had extra energy tonight, and it was going to be an uphill battle getting her to settle down, this Patricia knew from experience. She couldn’t help but giggle as Thor’s head sagged back against the couch cushions. 

  “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go play, and Mommy will start dinner?” Patricia asked, watching as Amelia considered her options. Patricia kissed her head, and bundled the little girl off of her lap. It looked like Amelia and Thor had had a go at quite a few of the boxes, and she tore through one of them, pulling out even more toys. Patricia looked over at Thor, who was regarding her silently. 

  “I assume everything went okay at school,” She said, and he waited a moment before shrugging. 

  “I wasn’t on the approved guardians list, but I smoothed that over.” Patricia winced—she’d forgotten to add him to the list of people allowed to pick Amelia up from school. She’d been meaning to do it, and just kept forgetting. It hadn’t helped either that she was still holding out hope that he would grow bored of this game and release them. 

  “Damn. Sorry.” Thor raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Patricia gestured placatingly with her hands. “Really, I didn’t… that wasn’t on purpose, Thor.” Patricia reached up to loosen the bun she’d had her hair in all day, massaging her scalp and running her fingers through her curls. “I’m glad they let you take her. What did you tell them?” She asked, cocking her head. 

  “I told them I was her father.” He said simply, and Patricia’s cheeks heated as she was reminded of her earlier thoughts. She glanced up to see if Amelia had heard, but the little girl was far too busy making her horses fight one another to listen to their boring adult conversation. 

  “Of-of course.” She said tightly. She rose from the couch, and she could feel Thor’s eyes on her like physical weights, dragging down her form. “I’m going to go change.” It was clear her earlier assumptions had been correct—the movers had already dropped off their things. It seemed like Thor had already unpacked and set up most of Amelia’s room; her four poster bed sat against the wall, across from the huge window seat on the adjacent wall. Her bookshelf was put up, and while not all of her books were on it, many of them were. Her beanbag was downstairs, and so were a couple of her other things, but… It gave Patricia a warm feeling in her chest to think that Thor had gone through the trouble of setting up Amelia’s room. 

  He probably paid someone else to do it. She thought snarkily, before heading to her own room to slide into a comfortable pair of leggings and a cropped tee. Thor was waiting for her in the hallway. 

  “I saw Amelia’s room,” She said softly. “Did you… I mean, you hired someone, right?” She asked, and he shook his head. Patricia couldn’t help it when her mouth fell open just a little, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Thor didn’t particularly strike her as the manual labor type. 

  “A labor of love,” He said dryly. “Though I did consider it.” The laughter bubbled out of Patricia before she could stop herself. She felt a little bad—it was clear Thor was attempting to connect with Amelia, and establish a relationship. Patricia sighed. 

  “Thank you. For picking her up, I mean.” Patty said awkwardly. Even though I had to practically beg you to do it. “I see she hasn’t destroyed too much of your apartment.” 

  “Yes, well… It’s all part of the job, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s your apartment too, Patricia.” He reminded her. She couldn’t help the little scowl that played on the edges of her lips at his words—of course he would say that, even though he’d bullied her into being here. 

  “Yeah. It is, I guess.” She said slowly. 

  Amelia was still playing when they came back downstairs, and hardly seemed to notice their absence as she made her plastic horses gallop all over the backs of the furniture. Patty headed to the kitchen, before beginning to search through the fridge for something to cook. She could feel Thor’s presence lingering nearby. He was seated at the dining room table, where he could easily watch both her, and Amelia, though his attention was clearly on the latter. Patty couldn’t help stealing glances, letting out an amused chuckle as their daughter climbed up into the chair beside him and began chattering away. 

  It was good to see he could be patient, even if he had a long way to go. Patty was in the process of cleaning up their hasty dinner when the shrill sound of the door buzzer went off, startling her. She dropped the lid of the pot with a loud CLANG , her hand flying to her chest. Thor looked equally surprised, knitting his brows together as their eyes met. 

  “Expecting company?” Patricia asked, bending to pick up the fallen cookware. He shook his head, putting down the book he’d been reading to Amelia. 

  “Not that I know of.” He rose to his feet, hushing Amelia gently when she whined that he’d stopped. The buzzer rang again impatiently, and Thor strode across the living room and down the entry hall to the elevator. Patty knew from experience that there were only two ways to get up to the penthouse—either with a personalized card key, or the be sent up by the doorman. Clearly this was the latter. Patty poked her head around the corner, watching curiously as Amelia clung to her legs. 

  “Who at the door, Mommy?” She asked impatiently, tugging on Patricia’s arm. She could only shrug. Thor punched the open button, and a tall, willowy blonde stepped out, poking her finger into Thor’s chest. She reminded Patty of a barbie.

  “What the fuck, Thor?” She shrilled. “You said later four hours ago,” She whined, pressing herself against his surprised, rigid form and curling a lock of his golden hair around her finger. Patricia’s jaw dropped open in shock. No fucking way. The blonde brought her hands to his shoulders, but Thor seemed to get his bearings, and caught her wrists in one large hand. Patricia scooped Amelia into her arms, hushing her when she fretted. 

  “It’s… not a good time, Idunn,” He said harshly, glancing over his shoulder at Patty and Amelia. The woman— Idunn?— cast a disparaging glare in the direction Thor had looked, and her eyes first widened in shock as they met Patricia’s, and then narrowed in rage. She shoved her way past a shocked Thor and stalked over to the kitchen, where Patricia hurriedly backed away, still holding Amelia. 

  “Who the fuck is this? ” She asked, stomping an expensive heel against the hardwood flooring. Amelia whimpered at the yelling, and Patricia frowned. She rounded on Thor, pointing a manicured finger accusingly at Patty. “Who is she?! ” 

  “I’m right here,” Patricia muttered, stroking Amelia’s head soothingly. “And who are you?” She asked pointedly, refusing to be cowed. Idunn squinted at Amelia, her gaze traveling from her, to Patricia, to Thor, and then back to Amelia again. A knowing smirk appeared on her lips. 

  “Go play in your room, baby.” Patty muttered. Perhaps she could feel her mother’s ire, or sense the quickly escalating situation between the three of them, but Amelia obeyed instantly, and Patricia waited until she was gone from sight to raise an accusatory finger at the other woman. “You barge in here, yelling, scaring my daughter,” She snapped, grimacing when Thor got between the two of them. “I don’t know what you’re thinking is going on here, but it definitely isn’t.” 

  Idunn sneered at her, raking her eyes over Patricia’s plain leggings, and t-shirt, her lip curling. It was obvious that Patty was being judged—and found wanting. Her curly hair was pulled into a loose messy bun, in extreme contrast to the loose, blonde waves that Idunn clearly spent a great deal of time cultivating. Thor couldn’t have found a more opposite set of women if he tried. Patricia knew she wasn’t Thor’s… typical type, but with what amounted to a super model in front of her, she was forced to take stock. 

  “Idunn, calm down,” Thor replied harshly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She threw his hand off, continuing to glare menacingly at Patty. “You’re making a scene, I can explain—” Idunn cut him off, her offended gasp silencing him. 

  “ I’m making a scene?” She shrieked loudly, throwing her hands into the air. “You’re here playing house with the goddamn help , and I’m making a scene? Does Odin know about your fucking charity case?” Patricia’s mouth dropped open, rage beginning to boil in her gut. It didn’t matter who Idunn was, no one talked about her daughter that way. Before she could speak, however, Thor grasped Idunn’s wrist tightly in one hand, and she winced, struggling against his grip. 

  “I want you to think very carefully about the next thing you say, Idunn. You will not speak about my child like that.” Idunn opened her mouth to speak, but Thor didn’t let her. “You show up to my home unannounced and uninvited, and then have the nerve …” Thor flexed his other hand, clenching it tightly. 

  “So she is yours,” Idunn breathed, using his momentary lapse to snatch her hand away. “My father will never let you marry me now,” She gloated, crossing her arms and staring down her nose at a fuming Patricia. “Not when you’re indisposed. ” 

  Surprisingly, Thor emitted a deep chuckle. “Idunn, I was never going to marry you.” She sputtered at this, and he squared his shoulders, peering down intimidatingly at her. It was hard to stand up to him when he did that, and Patricia found herself feeling just a little bad for Idunn; having to face him down. “Leave. Before I call your father and tell him you’re panting after me like a bitch in heat.” 

  Idunn recoiled as though she’d been slapped, turning and marching out of the apartment. The elevator dinged, signaling she was gone, and Thor’s shoulders sagged as he clapped a hand to his forehead, cursing. 

  “God fucking dammit.”

  Patricia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Girlfriend?” She asked dryly, pursing her lips. Who was Odin? And…why wouldn’t he know about her and Amelia? It was clear they had an intimate relationship—why else react so poorly to Patricia’s presence? Thor turned to scowl at her, shaking his head. 

  “Something like that.” 

  Patricia found herself wondering what their relationship actually was, how close they were. Her thoughts turned back to the other night, and she felt even more uneasy. They’d had sex not that long ago… Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose. She was the “other woman”. 

  Great. 

  “You know, it would have been good to know you were seeing someone before you fucked me,” She snapped, stalking over to the fridge. She pulled the door open, grabbing a bottle of wine from the door and then slammed it back shut. “That’s pretty goddamn low of you.” Not to mention now I feel like shit.

  Thor had the nerve to smirk at her. “I didn’t hear you complaining then,” He replied. “We were hardly exclusive.” He sighed. He didn’t look particularly guilty, either. “You might not understand this yet,” He reached for the bottle himself, motioning for Patricia to remove another glass from the cupboard. She did, grudgingly. “But there are certain… expectations I have to meet.” His voice turned sour, and Patricia took a large swallow of wine. Ah. Here it is. She thought bitterly. The part where he tells me I’m not good enough.

  “Mmhmm.” Patricia narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. “And those would be?”

  “Marry right. Take over the business. Keep our line strong.” He replied without hesitation, and Patricia got the sneaking suspicion he wasn’t pulling this out of thin air. It had been drilled into him by someone else. Maybe not so nicely, either. Patty smiled bitterly. 

  “Well, we never meant to screw up your arranged marriage by virtue of existing, and all,” Patricia said snarkily. “Maybe if you explained… everything to her, it would help.” She offered, but he shook his head. “Tell her you and me… we’re not anything.” He rolled his eyes at her words, and an unreadable expression crossed his face before he shrugged. 

  “It’s no use now. There’s no talking to her like that.” He sounded as though he was speaking from experience.

  “Well, you know, just saying, if you’d told her you were moving your baby-mama into your apartment before you did it, it probably would have made less of a mess.” An irritated expression crossed his face, and realization dawned on Patricia like a lightbulb going off in a dark room. “Oh my god.” She barked out a derisive laugh. “You couldn’t tell her, could you? What are we, your dirty little secret?” Her tone was scathing. “So this whole time you’ve been trying to fuck me, you’ve been toying with her too? No wonder she came in here screaming bloody murder at you—”

  “You sound jealous, Patricia. Want me all to yourself?” He drawled, and Patty was seized with the urge to hurl her wine glass at his head. 

  “Jealous?” She repeated incredulously. “What would I possibly—” Patricia was officially in defense mode, her voice rising in volume. Thor was unfazed by this, pushing his chair away from the counter and making his way over to her. He caged Patricia in against this sink as she shuddered, pressing himself against her. 

  “If you want me, Patty, all you have to do is say.” She hoped to god he didn’t see the little tremor that passed through her. She couldn’t help it, not when he used that voice. Patricia glared up at him, but Thor continued to smile disarmingly down at her, lifting a hand to stroke her chin gently. God , it was like he was seeing directly into her with those cold blue eyes. She didn’t want to admit her jealousy, because if she did, Patty would have to admit that part of her wanted him—and there was no way she was doing that.

  “I—I don’t—” He kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth as Patricia struggled for words. She hadn’t been prepared for this, and like the bastard he was, Thor was ready and willing to take advantage. He sucked on her bottom lip until it throbbed, releasing it to go to work on her throat. 

  “You don’t understand yet,” He murmured against her skin. Patty hated the way his touch made her head all foggy, made her forget just how much she hated him. “Doing this for your own good.” His hand skirted over her hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pulled away then, leaving her standing panting and confused in the kitchen, the wine glass trembling in her hand as he headed upstairs to check on Amelia.

  What the hell just happened?!

Next Chapter

[drabbles-mc]

Family Dinner

Kozik x F!Reader (ft. Dad!Tig Trager)

Request by Anon: Can I request a sort of funny Kozik x female reader (who is Tig's badass daughter), where Tig has no idea that they're a thing until Gemma holds a dinner, and someone goes to offer reader a food they can't have due to a dairy intolerance, and Kozik informs them that she can't have it, and Tig pretty much interrogates him and is like, "how do you know that"? Has a big ol' moment of feeling betrayed and being mad as hell, but ultimately comes around to the idea.

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was a fun one! I did switch up the reveal a little bit but not too much. I haven’t written a heck of a lot for Tig as a character and having him play the protective dad role in this was really enjoyable to write. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mayans-sauce​ @chibsytelford​ @mijop​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​​ @shadow-of-wonder​​ (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know! xo)

You were shimmying back into your jeans, trying to pretend that you didn’t notice the way that his eyes were glued to you. You looked over as you fastened the button on them, “You going to Gemma’s later?”

He looked surprised at the question, “The dinner thing?” when you nodded in response, he sat upright, running his hand through his hair, “Am I…am I even invited?”

You laughed, nodding, “It’s a club thing. Of course you’re invited.”

“Yea but no one ever—”

“Does Gemma seem like the kind of woman who is gonna make a damn phone tree and call everyone she wants there?” you chuckled and shook your head, “Just come. It’s always a good time. Good food, too.”

You could see it on his face that he was trying to weigh out the pros and cons of it. Since he transferred into Samcro, things had gone smoothly for him for the most part. Pretty much everyone in the club was glad to have him back around again. However, the one person that wasn’t thrilled about his return, was the person that you knew he was worrying the most about.

“It’s not like you two are going to be alone in a room together,” you told him as you pulled your shirt down over your head, “We’re all gonna be there.”

“You think he won’t jump the table and try to beat the shit out of me in front of everyone?”

You laughed, knowing that that is exactly the kind of thing your father would do, “Just don’t say anything to piss him off.”

“Want me to be silent for the whole dinner, then?”

You smiled, shaking your head, “Give him a little credit, Koz. He’s better than he was when you first turned back up.”

“Pretty low fuckin’ bar.”

You walked back over to his bed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “Progress is progress,” you stroked your thumb along his cheek, “I’ll see you tonight?”

He sighed, giving in only because it was you, “Yea,” he rested his hand over yours, “I’ll be there.”

You smiled, pressing your forehead against his, “Thank you.”

You leaned in to give him one last quick peck on the lips before leaving, but he grabbed you and pulled you close, not letting you pull away. You laughed as you leaned into the kiss, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

When he finally let you go, he was smiling up at you, “Since I won’t be able to do that later.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked towards his bedroom door, “You could, but it’d be the last time you ever did.”

You left Kozik’s place, making your way back to the home that you were currently sharing with your father. You’d been looking for a place of your own, but nothing seemed to be quite the right fit. At this point, you figured you would probably just end up moving in with Kozik before too much longer. There were a few conversations that needed to happen before that, though, and you weren’t sure if you were quite ready to have them yet.

“Dad, you home?” you’d seen his bike in the driveway but the house was eerily quiet when you walked in.

“Yea,” he walked out of the bathroom, half of his face still splattered with shaving cream, “Everything okay?”

You laughed as you took in the way he looked, giving him a nod, “Yea, all good. Was just quiet in here. But now I see that you were very…focused.”

“It’s like sculpting The David, alright? Takes a lot of concentration.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Right. Something like that. Anyway, we still going to Gemma’s thing later?”

“Yea. I’m not getting in trouble for missing it.”

You laughed, “Figures.”

Surprisingly, Tig let you drive the both of you to Gemma’s place. Usually when you offered to drive it was met with a myriad of comments about how your driving would get the both of you killed. For some reason, though, he was feeling extra agreeable. You didn’t want to ruin it so you swiped the keys immediately and went out to the car.

When you rolled into the driveway, there were already a decent number of bikes parked out front. Your heart sped up a little bit when you spotted Kozik’s in the midst of them. You weren’t the only one who noticed, though. You heard Tig muttering something under his breath about how you can’t believe that someone invited him.

“He’s part of the club too, you know, Dad,” you said, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.

“Doesn’t mean that I gotta like him,” he responded as he stepped out of the car.

You sighed, getting out and shutting the door behind you, “Make everyone’s lives a whole lot easier if you did.”

He looked at you, eyes narrowed slightly, “Since when do you care?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off, “The less drama at family dinners, the better.”

It must’ve been a good enough excuse, because he let the topic drop. The two of you walked inside, welcomed by the sounds of a few different conversations happening throughout the house, and the smell of whatever Gemma was cooking wafting over from the kitchen. It really did feel like coming home.

You made your way around, saying hello and giving everyone a hug in greeting. You tried not to let Kozik’s embrace linger, but you had to admit that it was hard to pull away. It was getting harder and harder to keep things on the down-low with you two. You were needy and Kozik wasn’t someone that you would ever describe as particularly discreet.

“You need help with anything, Gemma?” you were scanning over everything that she had going on top of the stove and in the oven.

She took a deep breath, hands on her hips as she looked around the kitchen, “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Think we’ve got it all under control in here,” she nodded towards the cupboards, “Maybe get some plates out for me?”

You nodded, “Sure thing.”

While you were bringing the plates to the table, you could hear the murmur of conversations out in the living room. There was laughter and the clattering of beer bottles as the guys got into whatever shenanigans they had time for before the food was done. It’d been a while since everyone got together at Gemma’s, and you had to admit that it was needed.

You looked back into the kitchen and saw Kozik staring at you. You smiled, shaking your head slightly at him as you tried not to draw too much attention to it. The last thing you wanted to do was air out all of your business in the middle of Gemma’s house.

He was leaning back against the counter, watching as you gathered up silverware for the table as well. He opened his mouth to make a flirty remark, but immediately backpedaled when Tig walked into the room. He tore his eyes off of you, trying to look anywhere else.

When you came back from the table the second time, you saw that Gemma had stepped out of the kitchen. With a devious smile on your face, you grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and opened one of the pots on the stove. Gemma ran a tight ship, and that meant no sneaking any food before dinner. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

You assumed no one was watching you, Tig had his head in the fridge looking for a fresh beer bottle. You scooped a spoonful of whatever was filling the kitchen with a mouth-watering aroma. You never thought to ask Gemma what anything was—it was always good.

You blew on it, and just as you were about to take a bite Kozik spoke up, resting his hand on your arm to signal you to stop, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

You chuckled, “If you don’t snitch, Gemma won’t even know.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s not that. Although…that’s another really good reason to not sneak it.”

“Why can’t I have it? Saving more for yourself?” you smiled.

His grin was contagious, “That’s a bonus, but no,” he gently took the spoon from your hands, “It’s got diary in it. It’ll make you sick.”

You groaned, hating that you were deprived of good things, “Fuck. Fine. Thanks for saving my stomach I guess.”

He couldn’t help but to laugh, “You’re welcome I guess.”

The two of you were laughing but you both stopped short when you saw the way that Tig was glaring at you, beer bottle gripped tight in his hand. His glance shifted from you over to Kozik, eyes boring into the man next to you.

“How’d you know that?”

He tried to be nonchalant about it, not wanting to pour fuel on the fire that was already set between the two of them, “Know what?”

Tig nodded towards the pot on the stove, “That that shit makes her sick.”

He’d never been good at coming up with lies on the spot, “She just, uh, I dunno. Must’ve mentioned it at some point.”

It wasn’t a convincing statement. And Tig had noticed how close the two of you stood, the way that you looked at each other. He wasn’t that oblivious. He wasn’t sure who he was more frustrated with in the moment. It was easier to be mad at Kozik, because he was always mad at him. But he couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t tell him something like this. Despite his own personal feelings, he was still your father and wanted to know what was going on with you.

Tig stepped forward, getting dangerously close to Kozik’s face, “You sleepin’ with my daughter?”

You huffed, trying to insert yourself between the two of them, “Dad, come on. We’re not doing this here.”

His eyes diverted back to you, “You didn’t think you should mention this to me at some point? How long has this shit been going on?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep things as level as possible, “I wanted to mention it, but for some reason I thought that it might not go over well.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, fingertips rapping against the neck of his beer bottle. He knew that you had a point—he didn’t exactly make himself the easiest person to talk to when it came to you dating in general, let alone dating Kozik. But still.

“Maybe that’s true,” he finally conceded.

You laughed, shaking your head. Your stubbornness was a genetic trait, “Yea. Maybe.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of hesitation or discomfort, “He good to you?”

You nodded, not even needing a moment to think about the answer, “Of course.”

Tig gave you a slight nod before gently moving you to the side, once more getting too close for comfort to Kozik’s face, “You hurt her, it’ll be the last thing you ever fucking do. Got it?”

He nodded, wanting to force words out but not quite sure what to say, “Got it.”

“Good,” he stepped away, walking back towards the living room where the rest of the club was sitting.

You wanted to stay and enjoy the relief of not having to hide anymore, but you couldn’t. You pressed a quick kiss to Kozik’s lips before going to catch up with your dad, pulling him aside, “Hey. Thank you for, you know, not murdering him in the middle of Gemma’s kitchen.”

“The night isn’t over. There’s still time for that.”

You laughed, “Stop. He’s a good guy, Dad. I know you don’t wanna see it but—”

He cut you off, “You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. But if he fucks up I swear to god—”

“You’ll be the first to know. Promise,” you held your pinky out.

He locked his finger with yours, a smile on his face, “Good.”

You smiled, “I love you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, “I love you too.”

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

They'd Bring You Back

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader 

Summary: You’re an unsub’s latest target, but your personality is way more than he bargained for. 

Warnings: Blood/descriptions of stabbing and cutting, typical CM drama, fluffy dad!hotch 

-

“And what about me?” You’d asked with a puffy lip, arms crossed, pouting as you sat on your father’s lap. He’d just laughed. 

“What about you?”

“If I got kidnapped.” He rolled his eyes.

“You’re so annoying, they would bring you back. And that-” He said as he stood up, taking you with him before setting you on the floor. “Is a promise.” 

Things had changed since you had that conversation. Drastically - back then you were only eight and your dad was a prosecutor for the DA. Your mom was alive. Your brother wasn’t even a thought in their minds at that point. And nobody could fathom what would happen when you were a little older. 

You went off the rails when your mother died. The trauma was enough that you ended up living with Rossi for a few months while your dad figured out how to juggle Jack and the job and all of your issues. That further fractured your relationship when you felt like he forgot about you. But since you moved back in with him, you had started to feel like things could be normal again. Like things could be good again. You were getting into a routine - Jack would stay with your aunt while your dad was on a case since he went to a school on the other side of town from yours, you would watch Rossi’s house while he was gone since you were old enough to stay by yourself, and you’d go pick up your dad when he got back from a case. 

They’d spent a week in Reno and really just wanted to get back to the house after mountains of paperwork. The holidays were coming up and your dad wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could, promising to take off some time to go on a day trip with you and Jack. You had made his favorite snack and walked out of Rossi’s front door, locking it and making sure it was locked, before going over to your car. 

You held the covered bowl of food in one hand, trying to get the right key in the other hand. You got as far as unlocking the car before you heard a shuffling noise behind you. You turned, seeing nothing alarming, but when you turned back there was an unfamiliar person in front of you. 

“Hotch, I think you need to accept that she was taken because...” Rossi started the next morning as they walked into the briefing room. The worst part of it was that they were being briefed on you. The police had determined that you’d been kidnapped, obviously, because there was no way in hell you’d start running away when things had just started to get better between you and your dad. 

“How could they have known?” Hotch asked. “How could this unsub have known it was my daughter walking out of your house?” Rossi shrugged, not quite having an answer, and the two sat down. 

“I’ve been thinking that the unsub must have been watching for a while. Long enough to know that she stays at Rossi’s when you’re both gone. They have to know who she is, Hotch. It doesn’t make sense for this to just be a random kidnapping,” Morgan said. 

“And if anyone can get through it, it’s her,” JJ offered. “She’s a strong-ass kid. She just needs to hold on until we can find her.” 

“Uh, guys?” Garcia walked in the room with a remote in hand, switching the large TV in the room over to what looked like a livestream. Of you. 

“Holy-” Morgan started. Hotch’s eyes widened in shock, and as if he couldn’t see he walked up to the screen. “It’s a snuff film.” 

You were tied up in a chair, a rope around your throat and your body so you were forced to sit up with your spine to the back of the chair. Your mascara was running down your face in silent tears.

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled to the unsub, looking around the room. They were watching the same camera that your dad was, but you didn’t know that. You didn’t know that you were the star of your very own snuff film. Suddenly the unsub’s voice came over the loud speaker in the dark, cold room. A cellar - you had to be in a basement or a cellar or something. You came to that conclusion at the same time as your father did, and you also came to the conclusion that he was watching you. This unsub was using you to get to your father, and somehow that pissed you off more than the idea of someone kidnapping you just for kicks. 

“He’s using her to get to me,” Hotch determined. “We need to find out how to contact this unsub. Get what he wants. Garcia, do everything you can to track them down. We need to figure out what he wants before he hurts her.” 

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled again. “I bet he’s already profiled how small your dick is!” 

“Okay, sweetheart, now’s not the time,” your dad mumbled as if he was speaking directly to you. He rubbed his pointer finger against a scar on his thumb, one you’d given him shortly after your mom died. 

“Although impotent might not actually be that bad of an observation,” Rossi suggested. You struggled against the hard ropes that were holding you down, only getting angrier and angrier at the unsub for not at least facing you. 

You finally huffed and looked at the camera in front of you, then around the room. You were definitely in a cellar or a basement of some kind - maybe even an old nuclear bunker or something. The walls were metal, but they looked home-made almost. The white paint was peeling off of said metal walls, revealing a rusty red color that looked like dried blood. Then you were there, in an antique-looking wooden chair. So it was probably an estate of some kind, you thought. Who else would just have this kind of shit sitting around unless they were older, and it had definitely been a younger guy that kidnapped you. You could only hope your dad made the same observation as he watched you on the other side of the camera. Because who else would that camera be for, right? 

“You know, your walls give off a lot of information about where I am!” You called throughout the room, looking at the green door. Just then, someone walked in. The same guy who kidnapped you, or at least the same body. But he was wearing a ski mask so you couldn’t identify him.

“Really?” The man asked. He actually seemed curious. 

“This chair is antique. So is this room. So you’re keeping me in some kind of family home or estate. I’d guess your grandma’s or your mom’s house because you don’t seem like the type of guy who would ever make it out. And because you’re leaving the mask on, you’re probably not going to kill me. Only people who plan to kill show their faces because they’re scared of being visually identified,” you rattled off. “And we were only in the car for about fifteen minutes, three minutes off of the highway, so there’s no way you took me too far. I take back the impotent thing, at least so far, because you haven’t tried to assault me yet. Anyone who was impotent or had that issue probably would have already.” The man stood there, his arms crossed over a black hoodie. You could vaguely see a shape within the hoodie pocket to know that it was a knife of some kind. 

“Good job, kid. Maybe you are your daddy’s kid. I’ve been watching you, you know.” You spit onto the floor out of pure disgust. How long had this creep been watching you? And how? 

“Yeah, and if you know who I am then you’re planning to ask for ransom money. Which, you should know, you’ll get. If the FBI won’t pay it, my dad will. But if you’re streaming this to him like I think you are, then you’re planning to do something to me until you get that money.”

“You are smart. I don’t have the letter ready yet, so I figured I’d come have a little fun.” The unsub noticed how calm you were and it kind of scared him a little bit - like who the fuck was calm in this kind of situation? He figured you would be scared, beg your dad to save you, but you were actually holding your own. Huh. 

Your dad noticed that, too, and his chest swelled with pride at the same time his stomach ached with fear for you. He kept asking himself why the unsub was sharing it, but he realized. He wanted your father to see what he was doing to you, he wanted your dad to see that everything that happened to you was a reflection of him. 

“He’s not a sexual sadist,” your dad said. “The motive isn’t sexual. At all.” 

“Good,” Morgan muttered. “But what do you think he wants, then?”

“He wants me to see my actions as a reflection of what happens to her,” he concluded. “He’s going to hurt her. Every time I give him something, it’s going to stop. And then he’s going to start again until I give him what he wants. I’m going to assume it’s money. She’s right about the location, at least from what I can see, so I would assume that money is the main motivation for this.” 

“Maybe bail money?” Rossi suggested. “It would make sense. If we put someone away, he would want to see them out. And bail would be a large amount of money.” 

“I’ll go tell Garcia to look for people we’ve put away who would be eligible for bail,” Reid said as he stood up. He shuffled away from the table toward Garcia’s office, leaving them to watch the live stream. 

“I’ll go make sure SWAT is ready when we have our guy,” Morgan said. “I’ll lead. You don’t need to go in there, Hotch, because for all we know he wants to actually hurt you as well as her.” 

“I’ll watch some of the initial footage back. See if we can figure anything about the location,” Prentiss volunteered. Everyone left the table except for your dad, Rossi, and JJ. Your dad had barely even paid attention, too busy looking at the screen as the unsub creeped around you. He had since drawn a knife, twirling it between leather-gloved fingers. 

“If you’re going to hurt me, there’s literally no reason to wait,” you pointed out to the unsub.

“You’re annoying. No wonder your dad doesn’t love you.” That hit a nerve in both you and your father, but you didn’t show it. You just sat up a little bit, adjusting your cold, frozen ass on the seat. 

“If you’re trying to turn him against me, it’s not going to work. I know he loves me, even in his own twisted way. So stop trying to make it seem like he doesn’t. Psychological torture isn’t going to work on someone who watched their mom die right in front of them.” Your dad’s heart fell thinking about all of the trauma you’d already been through, and how little of it you’d even discussed. After your mom died you just shut down to everyone, including the therapists who tried to help you get through it. You had just pretended like nothing was real and nothing was wrong. This, though? This was fucking real. And you couldn’t block it out no matter how badly you wanted to. 

Your father watched as the conversation shifted from just that to actual events that had happened, indicating just how long this guy had been watching. He talked about the fight you had three weeks ago about you accusing your dad of being too overprotective. Then he brought up a fight that was so bad that Jack literally ran down the street to get away from you two. And by then you were crying, begging your dad to just come get you and prove that he loved you. You had been effectively broken by the time the unsub left and he hadn’t even used the knife that he had. 

Your father watched absolutely helplessly as the man hurled abusive, and untrue, thoughts at your brain. He watched as the unsub untied you before leaving, allowing you to curl your legs up to your chest and cry on your own. You were doing so well a few minutes ago, so well that you thought maybe your dad might even be proud of you. But now? 

“Okay, I have a list of everyone eligible for bail that had anything to do with us. Cases we’ve consulted on, ones we’ve actually worked, all that jazz,” Garcia said over the phone speaker. 

“Can you cross reference that with men?” JJ asked.

“Honey, that takes one off the list of fifty,” Garcia answered. JJ sighed. 

“What about family issues? Garcia, check any cases that revolved around families. Where they were the target, the motivation, anything,” Rossi said. Everyone could hear Garcia typing, the sound fading out as everyone watched the screen to see what was going to happen next. Reid came back in the room carrying what could only be a ransom note. 

“It’s addressed to you, not the BAU,” Reid said as he handed it to your dad. He sighed, taking the letter, and sat down. 

Aaron Hotchner: 

You can see I have your daughter. You will deliver two installments of fifty thousand dollars. I will be live streaming to your organization as well as a chatroom. Until I receive funds, from this moment on, your daughter will be the star of her very own film. When you can acquire the funds, deliver them to the P.O. Box below. The installments must be in full, or I will not hesitate to kill her. The installments must be delivered over the course of twenty-four hours. For example, you may not deliver one hundred thousand dollars at once. Thank you for your cooperation. 

- X

“So he’s trying to get money in two different ways. On the chatroom and from you. This is serving more than one purpose,” Rossi said. He took the note. “Garcia, look and see if any of the bail amounts total one hundred thousand dollars. And look to see if any of them are cash only.” 

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” Garcia said after a moment of silence. 

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand,” JJ determined. Everyone in the room turned to look at her as if she was crazy except for your dad. He was visibly shaken, eyes glued to the camera. 

“What?” Rossi asked. 

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand as soon as we can get it. We can go ahead and trace the P.O. box, find any connections, and hopefully get our guy before it even gets delivered.”

“And if not?” Your dad asked. 

“If not, then we sincerely hope he’s bluffing about hurting her before he gets the second one. Twenty-four hours is a long time.”

Hotch turned back to the screen to see that you were sleeping until the unsub came into the room again. He slammed the door open, carrying a knife in his hand, and walked toward you. You jumped, but didn’t move. You had nowhere to go. You couldn’t leave, so you just sat there with nervous eyes. 

“I sent them the ransom note,” the unsub said casually. You swallowed. 

“Okay, and? We don’t have that kind of money, and federal funds aren’t going to be...” 

“I don’t care about federal funds. Someone better give me my fucking money. Isn’t it taxpayer dollars anyway?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Oh, I’m so hurt,” the unsub said, “boo hoo. You’ll be the one crying before too long. Sit back in the chair.” You didn’t try to run as he tied you up. You didn’t cry. You didn’t say anything. You just looked at the camera, eyes pleading for someone to fucking do something. If you knew your dad as well as you thought, he’d already made the connections about where you were, hopefully why the guy needed money, and they were already going through the ransom note. 

But, no. Your dad was watching as the unsub started by lifting your chin with the silver knife. Then he brushed your hair behind your ears. And then, out of nowhere, he dug the knife into your skin and dragged it down your arm. 

“Dad, please,” you said, knowing fully well that he was watching. You didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle yourself, but you were getting scared that maybe this guy was actually going to kill you if he didn’t get what he wanted. 

“Your daddy’s due to give me some money in a few hours. I figured I’d let you bleed until then.” The unsub was casual as he wiped both sides of the knife on your jeans and then walked out of the room, leaving you tied up. 

Garcia tried to had into the livestream and say something, but it didn’t work - there was no way to get a message to you. Your dad just had to sit there and call the bank, telling them that he needed to withdraw everything from his savings. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and bleed. 

The P.O. box turned to nothing. The guy had paid in cash and given them a fake name. Garcia’s search came up with four possible matches. Then she looked at property records, and then it was time to give the profile of the unsub. Your dad’s eyes were glued to the screen in the conference room, not even listening to the profile that he would usually be concerned about. He just sat there and watched, hoping that you knew he wouldn’t leave your side even then. 

The bank came through and let him withdraw the money, but not before the unsub came back and cut another gash into the same arm. Your dad went to the P.O. box and peeled his eyes away from the screen long enough to deposit the money. They had cops waiting to see who collected it, but nobody did. Nobody even tried to get anything from those boxes. 

“You should get some rest,” Rossi said later that night. Your dad shook his head, refusing to leave the screen. “He got his money.”

“And he said he’s going to hurt her still,” your dad insisted. “I’m not leaving her, even if it’s just a screen.” Rossi sighed. The rest of the team agreed not to leave you, either, and they sat there for most of the night, watching as the unsub cut you like a piece of paper. 

You had told the unsub numerous times that your dad was coming to get you, and those words haunted the entire BAU as they watched you on the screen. They weren’t coming because they didn’t know where to go. And then the unsub talked you up again, mentioning that he knew you were quiet enough that you wouldn’t scream. 

“Garcia, check for neighborhoods. Widen the search again, maybe it’s not bail after all,” Morgan instructed. Garcia started typing again. 

“There’s a Joshua Robinson, he lives twenty minutes from Rossi’s house. It looks like his father was one of our unsubs who didn’t make it four years ago. And it looks like he’s over that amount of time in missing mortgage payments. I think this could be our guy,” she said. 

“I’ll get SWAT ready again,” Morgan said. He stood up and left the room. Everyone went their separate ways except for your dad, who sat there and watched as the unsub full on stabbed you. Fucking stabbed you - you actually screamed at him instead of starting to cry. You called him impotent. A bitch. You called him slimy. You called him everything in the book and it only aggravated him more. 

Morgan drove as fast as he ever had over to the house. They raided it and found nothing - no basement, no nothing. And then they found the reason why the guy was so behind on house payments. They owned the land next to the house, too. It was only a matter of time before they found the bunker and the unsub trying to get away. 

Garcia had stopped the stream as soon as she could and called EMT’s to the scene, knowing how hurt you were and how much blood you’d lost. But it was up to your dad to go down to the creepy bunker and get you. He sighed as he descended the stairs and opened the now familiar green door, seeing you, untied but still in the chair. You were so bloody that he barely even recognized you. 

“Dad?” You asked as he walked in. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. 

“You’re safe, sweetheart, come with me,” he said softly. He threw the ropes off of you and reached underneath you, picking you up and being careful not to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He took you up to the surface, holding your hand as the EMT’s worked their magic on your arm to try and keep you from bleeding any more than you already were.

They figured out that the unsub had been living at his father’s property, so behind in mortgage payments that he needed almost a hundred thousand dollars to pay for that and for property upkeep so he could sell the place and get a fresh start after attempted murder and kidnapping. You were right about almost every observation you’d made, down to the chair, and when your father looked around the room after loading you into the ambulance he realized just how smart you actually were. And how he hadn’t been paying attention to it. 

The next few hours were a blur - they wouldn’t let your dad come with you for anything at the hospital so he just sat there, waiting, with the rest of the team. The unsub had done quite a bit of nerve damage to your arm, leaving you unable to feel any pain in it for what may be forever, but at least you still had your arm. Rossi bought you a guilt gift of a new phone, too, since you’d dropped yours on the concrete, and said he was adding extra extra security to his house if you ever wanted to go there again. 

“You were watching the whole time, weren’t you?” You finally said to your dad, shutting your new phone off and putting it in your lap. He was going through some folder before he turned to you, nodding. 

“I wouldn’t leave you if I was there. And I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“I’m sorry that anyone thinks I’m worth a hundred thousand dollars.” That made him laugh, if only a little bit. “You always said that they’d bring me back if I was kidnapped.”

“Because you were so annoying!” He laughed. “I think the guy almost did. He was getting pretty fed up with you.” Joking about it, it seemed, was the only way to not cry about it. At least in your family. 

“Yeah, I think telling him he had a small dick was a lot for him.” 

“I’m really proud of the way you handled that.”

“I had nowhere to go if I tried to run,” you shrugged. “You always taught me that if I’m in a bad situation, stay in it unless I have a way out. You said that’s how you always get through things. Because you don’t just walk out on them.” 

“You don’t feel like I walked out on you, do you? And you don’t think that’s why we are the way we are?” You looked down, thinking about it for a minute, before you shook your head. 

“No. But-” Your eyes lit up when Rossi walked Jack into the room. He was holding another guilt gift, too, and ran up to you. You picked up your brother and put him in your lap, making him laugh.

“What happened to your arm?” Jack asked, poking at a bandage. You tried not to wince, smiling instead. 

“Just a bad guy. But I worked the case,” you told him. He smiled.

“Just like Daddy?”

“Yeah,” your dad said with a smile as he walked over to the two of you. “Just like me.” 

A/N: Just some good ole classic Dad!Hotch for y’all... I hope you like it as much as I do!! 

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: <3 thanks for all the support so far

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Thirteen

“Kuroo-San I’m very flattered but in reality I’m seeing someone.” You chuckled awkwardly as you both walked to the lounge after today’s game. “Really?! Since when! About a month ago during the black Jackals game you just said you were a single mom!” He exclaimed. “Well..in reality..I’m trying to make amends with the father of my children. We were both dumb and immature but now since we’re older, we can have a decent conversation. And I still have feelings for him in a way and he’s already confessed..so...” you scratched the back on your head. “Have you accepted his confession..?” He asked. “Well..I mean I kind of changed the subject..” you replied awkwardly. “Poor guy..” he put his hand on his chest as if he felt the pain. “Well it’s not right to pressure someone into going on a date with them so I’m sorry. I was out of line. And I hope everything goes well between you and Rintarou.” He said with a soft smile. He patted your head and walked away down the other hall, you just stood there dumbfounded. How does he know Rin is the dad..?

You haven’t checked social media or sports news so you’re not sure if people already know. You made you way into the lounge and opened your small locker. You took out your purse and walked to your car, you tried walking as fast as possible to avoid talking to people and when you were in the comfort of your car you took out your phone.

Your eyes widened at the amount of phone calls and messages Rin sent. You didn’t even have a chance to read the messages since you decided to call back Rin and wonder what is going on. “It’s about time you answer.” He immediately gritted, he obviously sounded pissed. “Excuse me?” You immediately said with such confusion.

Does he seriously think he can get away with talking to you like that?

“I said it’s about time you fucking answered. Why weren’t you answering my calls or messages?” He asked. “I was obviously working.” You said in a duh tone. “Is something wrong?” You asked. “YES something is wrong! My son almost died and I didn’t know what to do!”

Your heart dropped. He almost...died..? “W-wait—“ you shook your head. “What do you mean he almost died?” You asked. “He had an allergy attack and I had to use an epipen. I didn’t know what to do at the hospital. I rarely had any information. You never told me if the kids had insurance or anything.” “Is Rini okay?” You immediately asked. “Yes he’s fine. But you didn—“

“I’m on my way. For the next eight hours, think before you speak, okay? Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” You warned. “Whatever.” He muttered and hung up. Immediately your heart clenched and you threw your phone at the passenger seat. You rubbed your face and leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel.

“What the fuck.” You sighed. Throughout the drive back to Hyogo your hands began shaking thinking about your kids and Rin. The kids went through something traumatic, and you weren’t there to help them or to protect them. What kind of mother are you? You wanted to slap yourself so hard, jump off a cliff. Receive some sort of punishment for being such a stupid mother and trusting Rin with your children.

After a few hours, your makeup needed a touch up, your hair was a mess for running your hands through your hair hoping your son is okay. Your eyes felt droopy. You’ve only slept a good six hours between drives and it’s way past midnight. The sun began to rise and you finally passed the billboard welcoming you to the hyogo prefecture. You went to the hospital Rin said they were at and you quickly parked and made your way inside.

The poor lady in the office seemed startled at your appearance, your clothes were wrinkled, and your shirt was untucked and unbuttoned from the top, you had bags under your eyes, you were a whole mess. When she gave the room number you slipped off your heels and began jogging to your location. The door was opened so you peeked in and saw your daughter playing with her fox plush on the uncomfortable couch chair.

It was like she sensed you so she looked up and you made eye contact with your little girl. Her eyes immediately watered and she hopped off the chair crying. “Mommy!” She sobbed and you immediately bent down to pick her up. You held her close and her grip tightened around your shoulders. “Rini doesn’t feel good..” she mumbled in your ear. “I know baby, I know.” You answered and dropped your heels by the entrance.

You made you way inside and saw Rin hunched over on the bed sleeping. He was holding Rini’s hand who was also asleep. He looked alright and you sighed in relief. “Have you slept, Akira?” You asked and she nodded. “I slept with Rini, but grandma wanted me to go back home with her. But Rini needed me. He’s my twin.” She wiped her eyes and slightly pulled away. You neared the other side of the bed and pulled the lounge chair closer so you can sit. Akira was on your left thigh with her head still on your shoulder. You looked at Rini sleeping and you brushed some hair out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes and he smiled lazily, “I missed you momma..” he mumbled. “I missed you too. I came as fast as I could.” You assured. “I was so scared.” He admitted. “I know..and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” Your eyes began to water. “Don’t cry mommy.... then I’ll cry..” Rini held your hand with his free hand.

Your wiped under your eyes with the sleeve of your blazer to stop the tears from falling and you smiled again. “Okay I won’t cry.” You said and released a breath. “Can you sing me a song?” Akira asked in your neck, “Yeah I want a song too, please.” Rini pouted and you nodded. They had a favorite song from a certain show that they enjoyed the most. You began to sing softly and Rini squeezed your hand and Akira began to fall asleep again.

I always thought I might be bad

Now I'm sure that it's true

'Cause I think you're so good

And I'm nothing like you

Look at you go

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special

You saw as Rini’s eyes began to close so he could fall back to sleep, you heard snoring right in your ear and realized Akira knocked out as well. “You have a beautiful voice.” Rin said softly as he rested his head on the side of his arm. “Sorry that I woke you up.” You quickly apologized. “No it’s fine..” he yawned and slowly sat up. He winced slightly, “Damn I need to see a chiropractor.” He muttered and you released a small chuckle. “Me too.” You said.

“So is Rini okay? What happened?” You asked and he sighed and looked into your eyes. “My mom got some burgers from a restaurant where peanut oil is used. She didn’t know Rini was allergic and I didn’t check the bag.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You raised your voice and his eyes widened. “Your mom almost killed our son and you blame me for leaving you without any information?” You asked and he looked down guilty. “She didn’t kn—“

“Of course she doesn’t know because all day she was acting like a conceited bitch instead of being a grandmother to her grandkids. She even called me a whore—“

“No she didn’t.” He immediately interrupted. “She didn’t because you stopped her. But that’s what she thinks right? I model for Hana’s company to support her and to build up my self esteem and now I’m a whore? And you had the audacity to talk to me so rudely when I didn’t do anything. If you’re going to be treating me like that then there’s the fucking door. You understand? Never again will I be disrespected by a man.” You said and he had no words.

“You make it seem like I did it on purpose. I was sleep deprived and scared. I felt like I was going to throw up.” Rin squinted his narrow eyes.

“Do you have any idea what I felt when I got a call eight hours away that my son almost died? Imagine how I feel when he calls out to me and I’m not there. I feel like I failed them as a mom, my chest hurts and I’ve always been there. Always. And now I leave them in your hands and something happens and I can’t get there soon? I almost had a panic attack on the drive!” You exclaimed and he stayed silent. He didn’t want to continue fighting. He’s sure the kids are awake and listening to everything.

“I’m sorry.” He said and looked at his hands. He felt defeated and disappointed. You shouldn’t be so hard on him, it’s been less than a month since he took on this role. “Hey look at me.” You called softly, he looked up and you made eye contact once more. “I’m sorry for going off on you like this, I’m just as upset and afraid as you are and I’m sure you haven’t slept much.”

“I could say the same for you, you look like shit.” He cracked a tiny smile and you rolled your eyes with a giggle. “So did your mom eventually decide to be a grandma or she still hates me so she’s not getting close?” You asked. “She went back home to bring some clothes and then to get us some breakfast. I sent her a screenshot of my notes.” He said and you nodded. You obviously still felt uneasy with her, but they deserve a grandma and if she’s being civil you have no reason to take them away from her.

There was a knock at the door and you and Rin immediately turned your heads. “Oh you must be mom..” the doctor said. “Yeah I’m mom.” You said. She explained that Rini stayed longer than usual because he is a child. After a severe allergic reaction there can be aftershocks hours after the person receives treatment and that can lead to a seizure. She praised Rin for quick thinking and following proper steps to insure his child’s safety.

When the doctor left, Rin’s mom waltzes in and she freezes when she sees you. You take a deep breath and release and decide that it’s best to keep quiet. You wouldn’t want a clique animosity between you and your maybe future mother in law.

“I brought Rini some spare clothes.” She said as she opened Rin’s old gym bag. “He doesn’t own that jacket.” You pointed out. Her face flushed slightly, “I know..but this was Rintarou’s favorite jacket when he was his age..I thought it would be nice to wear. I have a lot of Rin’s old baby and child clothes.” She admitted softly, almost scared that you would snap any minute. And you would, so she was wise to walk on eggshells.

“Okay that’s fine.” You gave in. You helped Rini get dressed while Rin was talking to the doctor and getting ready to check out. You walked barefoot down the hall with your pink heels in your right hand, while Akira held your left hand. Rini was holding hands with Suna and Rin’s mom was holding their stuffed animals. She trailed behind you four and saw how you and Rin swung akira with you arms, her little giggles filled the hall releasing serotonin to the patients and nurses nearby.

“Momma aren’t you gonna put your shoes on?” Rini asked, “My feet hurt and I don’t feel like falling.” “But it’s hot outside, you can burn your feet.” Rin spoke up, “I think I’ll be fine.” You assured. He rolled his eyes and let go of the kids. You were about to step on the asphalt of the parking lot after checking both sides and all of a sudden you’re being knocked back from your legs and carried bridal style. “RINTAROU PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT.”

“Nah.”

The kids giggled at their parents funny behavior, you kicked the air and squirmed but his grip tightened. “Do you really wanna get down?” He asked and you said yes. He pretended to drop you and you gripped onto his shirt for dear life and he started laughing. “I swear to God I am going to kick you where the sun doesn’t shine.” You muttered. He finally put you down but you were so distracted you were already at your car.

Karin took the kids to her car since the car seats are in there, so now it’s just you and Rin. “You give me a headache.” You told him. “But you love this headache—“ both your eyes widened and he stopped, “—sorry.” He immediately apologized.

You turned away to yawn and you muttered an it’s okay. He opened the car door for you just like old times, much to your dismay and he closed it when you entered. You put on your seatbelt and he fixed the seat and complained at how tiny you were. He was expecting you to fight back and bicker but you were already asleep.

He leaned forward and fixed your head so you wouldn’t hurt your neck. He started the car and began driving back home. He saw the two empty cups of coffee and some energy bar wrappers on the floor. The phone wasn’t playing any music but the volume was up to 20. You must have been so tired driving all last night and the night before for nine straight hours. No wonder you blasted music to keep you up and drank coffee.

He soon made it home and tried waking you up, but you didn’t budge. Not even shaking you work. You were a muttering unconscious mess when he helped you out and carried you bridal style once again. His mom let him in and he told Akira to unroll the futon in the living room since he couldn’t take you upstairs. He successfully placed you down and helped take of your blazer, he thanked god you were wearing an undershirt thanks to akira checking (no somnophilia shit here atm) and he helped unbutton your dress shirt so you wouldn’t feel hot. He put a light blanket over you. “Can’t believe I have to get you ready for bed like a child.” He muttered with a shake of his head. “Silence bottom, it’s mimi’s time.” You said in your sleep.

The kids ate their breakfast in the car as well as Karin. They were already awake and playing with Chewy outside again. “Mom.” He called, “Yes?” She asked from the kitchen. “Can I borrow your makeup wipes?” He asked. She smiled softly, looking out the window to check on the kids. “Yeah go ahead, they’re in the bathroom.”

Rin came back with the wipes and began wiping the makeup off your face. He didn’t want to press too hard to hurt you. But damn, this makeup was hard to take off. Finally you slept comfortably without makeup, without any interruptions. “Sweet dreams, love.” He smiled and moved the hair away from your face.

He stood up and grabbed the bag with all the kids school stuff and sat in the picnic table outside. “Alright you rascals time for school!” He yelled and the kids yelled an okay and went to join their dad.

“Hey dad..” Rini said. “What’s up?” Rin looked at his son, “I love you a lot. To infinity and beyond. Mama says that’s called unconditional love.” He said and Rin smiled with a nod. “Exactly, and I love you two unconditionally as well.” He said and Akira peered up from her work sheet. “Do you love mom unconditionally?” She asked Rintarou.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Fun facts:

Someone asked me to do fun facts and if I had any for future chapters so here I go

The song YN sang is love like you from Steven universe but this is my fav version.

‘Mimi’s’ means sleeping time, Akira didn’t know how to say sleeping when she was a toddler so she would say Mimi’s cuz uncle Oikawa would say “es tiempo de dormir.” Which means ‘it’s time to sleep’. So MIMIS is taken for the ‘mir’ in dormir. (Sorry that was a long explanation) (if you live in a Mexican household then u might usually hear this)

YN drives a Black Honda CR-V (nice mom van) ☺️ while Rin has a White Nissan GT-R but he’s thinking of trading it in for a four door sports car to take the kids and yn along

Rin still has his old black mustang in a garage rental back in Tokyo where he would drive with YN everywhere. He wants to fix it up and gift it to one of his kids when they’re older 🥺

Idk why I’m talking about cars

Rin was a blushing mess when he was getting yn ready for bed and his heart stopped when she snuggled into him

After he admitted he loved YN unconditionally, Akira called him a simp

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @atsumusdomain @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[perpetually-sad-but-its-fine]

11x07 of chicago fire

i always loving seeing the girls on fire scenes

STEALLARIDE

they’re so cute!!

THIS ISNT FAIR

im so proud of Stella

she's fantastic and im in love

boden and kidd’s father-daughter relationship is something to live for

hermann and cruz are unofficial besties and father-son

we deserve more of them

we don’t see hermann in charge too often

i love it

who’s this guy that thinks it’s okay to make fun of a firefighter who’s doing his job????

also

thE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN TO HELP?

HUH?

w h o   i s   t h i s   g u y ? ? ?

oH SHIT

THINGS JUST GOT OUT OF HAND REAL QUICK

oHHHH NOOOOO

lieutenant kidd taking charge is everything i never knew i needed

oh who am i kidding

i always knew i needed that

‘hey, john, we’re gonna get you outta here’

john’s gonna die, isn’t he?

oh poor john

poor guy

they're making cry for a character ive known for 8 and a half minutes

john’s definitely dying

definitely

*snort*

‘an expensive midlife crisis... time for a minivan’

sev’s gonna take the bike???

John is sooooo dying

one hundred percent

carver and gallo would be good friends tho

like

if the writers stopped causing unnecessary drama around carver

i could see them being besties

‘weirdo of the week’ is an understatement

LMAOOO the ‘hypothetical’ with ritter and hermann is making me cackle

‘and the friend was maybe dying’

‘and not fun anymore’

‘he could pull through! it’s possible.’

‘what kind of hypothetical is this?’

hermann spiralling to ritter is hilarious to me

I FUCKIN KNEW HE WAS DYING

aw poor hermann

‘you tryna rub a hole through your equipment, cruz?’

‘it’s called cleaning capp. you should try it sometime.’

we love that interaction

kellY LOOKING OUT FOR CRUZ

I FUCKIN KNEW KELLY WAS GONNA GET THAT BIKE

oh wait

mouch???

ohhhh

it’s his midlife crisis

‘do you know how to write a bike?’

‘more importantly, do you know how to fix one?’

‘eh, i'll manage’

sure you will mouch

sure you will

mouch asking kelly for help just as kelly’s leaving?

peak comedy. golden.

fuCKS SAKE

THAT GUY AGAIN

THE FUCK DO YOU WANT MAN????

steLLA KIDD TAKING PICTURES OF HER GIRLS LIKE A PROUD MOTHER

stella looks good in her lieutenants uniform

reALLY GOOD

macy’s mom needs to take several seats

macy made her choice ma’am

either support her or get the hell out

goD STELLA’S GONNA DO SMTHING STUPID BECAUSE OF THIS, ISNT SHE???

hermann’s really showing his age

im living for his crusty father humor

ritter finding katherine in twenty seconds while hermann’s complaining is *chef’s kiss* we love to see it

sylvie brett looks absolutely gorgeous

mouch is giving me second-hand embarrassment and I DONT LIKE IT

capp smirking at mouch makes me cackle

gallo and hermann’s niece??

still??

reassuring husband!kelly is what stella needs

thank you kelly severide

stella please

baby

stop doubting yourself

oH MY GOD

THIS GUY

THE FUCK DO YOU WANT GUY?

WHADDYA WANT?

thank you boden

bro better leave

right. now.

good

he’s gone

‘hopefully that’s the end of it’

wallace

please

we all know that that’s not the end of it

that's nowhere NEAR the end of it

stella testing kylie is adorable

and the worry written on her face??

god it kills me

stella

stop doubting yourself

please

let kylie do what she wants

and SUPPORT HER

ritter is concerned

he’s gonna do something, i can feel it

hermann trying to talk to the automated message is peak father behavior

christopher rambling on the voicemail is so sweet and so cute

kelly you better help mouch

dude’s about to hurt himself

oh thANK GOD

mouch’s sly little shrug to cruz

kelly’s face of ‘oh great, now im stuck w/ it’

oH MY GOD THE HECKLER’S BEHIND THEM

WHY?

god

what the fuck do you want?

gallo and carver’s exasperated look

we love that

WHY IS HERE?!

dude just causes chaos and then leaves

brO GET THE FUCK OUT

thank you random police officer

get him outta here

please

i can't stand this asshole anymore

oh so john’s not dead?

brett’s reaction to hermann is so cute

oh they were serious about turning the washer/dryer area into kidd’s office??

looks nice

OHHHH

RITTER BACKSTORYYYY

oh poor baby

ritter

i love you honey

you’re perfect lovely

yes thank you ritter

you're helping stella w/ this

thank you

mouch wearing sunglasses while standing next to bike that he ‘fixed’ but can’t drive just SCREAMS midlife crisis

its also giving me second hand embarrassment and i can't stand this

truDY

trudy: ‘what’s going on here?’

me: ‘mouch is having a midlife crisis’

LMAOOO

I DID NOT EXPECT THAT

I THOUGHT SHED BE PISSED OFF NOT TURNED ON

LMAOOOOO

everyone in the background smiling and being confused is a meme waiting to happen

‘hop on baby’

GOD STOP

everyone cheering loudly for mouch and platt is adorable

y'all 

THEYRE SO CUTE

the fuck kinda name is edgar weston?

look

edgar

i get you're pissed off

but there are better ways to go about it

than to HARASS a bunch of firefighters

and paramedics

who are just doing their job

ooooo

stella and kylie

yes

aww their banter!!!

also

kylie’s so pretty!

ah god

the heckler

bro

theY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT

THEY DIDNT START THE FIRE DAMMIT

also

god

viOLET

YOURE MAKING ME CRY

hanako’s performance is amazing

oh poor guy

i still don't like you tho

poor violet’s ‘you can’t’ just breaks me

oh john

he’s alive!

oh damn

then what’s gonna be the consequences of his actions

john

you’re overthinking this

hermann is great at giving advice

awwww

that’s so sweet

PFFT

‘i'm the guy who left that very long message’

there are better ways to introduce yourself

im shipping katherine and john and i barely know them

aw stella

awwww stellaaaaa

looking out for her girls!

THATS SO SWEET

cindy and hermann are adorable

oHHHH

THATS SO CUTE

they’re so cute!

awwwwww

AWWWWWW

ohhhh joeeee

how's this gonna go???

please tell me its approved

BRO?

THE SUSPENSE

YES

OH MY GOD

ITS HAPPENING

YESSSS

THATS AMAZINGGGG

THATS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT

[gotnofucks]

Ball’s In Your Court

Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader, (platonic tony x reader)

Summary: Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None man. Its fluff and angst. Language (?)

A/N: I was experimenting with the third person P.O.V for reader. Hope it’s to your liking.

MASTERLIST

+++++

For as long as Steve could remember, their life together had been a game; bet after bet, challenge after challenge. He had met her when she was just entering her teens, a little girl with a lost wild look in her eyes. She was in all respects Tony’s daughter, rescued by him from the wreckage of his own weapons. He had almost done a double take when Tony had introduced her to the team.

“This is Y/n, she will stay with us from now”

The compound was not used to the pitter patter of little feet or their furniture appearing embellished overnight. She had lost everything, including it seemed herself. So, their first game ironically had been Hide and Seek. She was small and he lost count of how many times she had bested him by crawling under the cramped spaces of desks or vents (Thanks for teaching her that, Barton).

When Tony had complained about the hundredth time that she just wouldn’t eat, Steve would challenge her that whoever finished their breakfast first could choose the movie for tonight. When she refused to let them leave for missions, he would challenge her to a game of cards. She was too young to win against him but her stubborn streak never turned down a game.

Their every interaction had been a game. They could get each other to do anything by playing chess or softball or a game of Horse that drove everyone else up the wall. He got her to open up about school bullies by besting her at Pictionary and she had effectively gotten him to shut up about healthy food by kicking his ass at video games. They dealt with drama via games (Whoever tosses the least paper balls in the bin tells Bruce we fucked his experiment ), they dealt with humor via games (let’s see who can manage to steal Nat’s gun without getting caught), they dealt with grief via game (if you beat me at Heads Up I’ll let you choose the gravestone).

Growing up, she was Tony’s daughter and Steve’s best friend. While Tony raised her, Steve gossiped with her. They were pals and all was fun and games until she grew up from a little girl into a young woman. Steve didn’t know when things changed but the first he noticed it was when she had run into his arms bawling because some idiot boy broke her heart. It was when he found himself conflicted between anger at the boy and jealousy that this shit started.

He had tried, he had really tried to keep it in check. He had tried to keep up with their game’s night ritual, their silly bets and ridiculous challenges. He had tried his best to be a friend, but this was one challenge he lost. She was no more the 14-year-old girl asking him questions for her history project or the 16-year-old nightmare who would put cockroaches in his bed as revenge. This was a young woman in her 20s with curves for days and an attitude that raised hell. It was a classic falling for your best friend story (if only he weren’t old enough to be her dad or was her dad’s best friend).

He had of course been under the impression that he was being subtle about his change in feelings. He tried not to stare when they went out for a swim, he resisted the urge to lick her lips after a nacho eating contest. He was trying so fucking hard, but as anyone could have told him, “Steve, you don’t have a subtle bone in your body, you frisbee throwing maniac”. She was Tony Stark’s daughter; she was not raised to be stupid. She was smart and observant and almost as quick a study as her father. It was no surprise then that she figured out what had Steve so wound up around her.

Maybe it would have creeped her out had it been anyone else, but Steve was her person. He was her one constant, from kissing her boo-boos to getting her home after she drank herself silly, Steve was there. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve so much then when she cornered him one evening and planted a wet one smack on his mouth with a muttered, “This sexual tension it killing me, gotta do something about it because you won’t”.

He wished he could say he clutched her body to his and dragged her to his room for a wild night of passion. But in reality, he chickened out like a bitch and ran away. Not just from her, but he completely disappeared from the compound for two weeks. When he came back, it was with the intentions of telling her they couldn’t do it, it was wrong and a betrayal to Tony. But Steve needn’t have worried because he came back to the compound to find her introducing the team to her boyfriend.

As far as others know, Steve didn’t deliberately break those glasses that night or push the idiot boy in the pool. It was an accident, and if such accidents kept happening around men she dated then it was purely coincidental.

It was a new kind of game they played then, a more dangerous one and if one’s being honest, a very sensual game. She would date someone; he would scare them away. One of them will find the other, have a passionate make out session, probably end up straddling the other on a desk and then one of them will get up and leave with the same lie “This can’t happen again”. Repeat.

Gone were the days of challenges and competitions, in its place was a sexually charged game of Tag. A cat and mouse game where they always chased each other, touching fleetingly before retreating again. Neither would be the one to make a commitment, neither would concede to being the person who would put their hearts on the line. They were two bulls who were made to butt heads (who occasionally took time off to play a quick game of tonsil-hockey).

Steve had known there had to be an end to this. It had gone on for so long that he could bet other people suspected some shit. He had honestly expected for Tony to sucker punch him half a dozen times by now. Right now, he would have taken those punches to the news she had just given to the team.

“I am getting married!” She announced, offering her left hand so others can admire the gorgeous diamond ring that sat on her ring finger. She looked happy, absolutely radiant and it was all Steve could do to stop himself from dragging her out of here by her hair and throwing that offending ring into the garbage chute. What the fuck kind of game was she playing?

He waited until everyone was asleep before he broke into her room. Well, breaking into would suggest it was forced but truly only him and Tony had the authorization to enter. Their relationship may have changed from ‘you’re my best friend’ to ‘I want to be your best lay’, but they still knew each other the best and cared just as much as before, if not more.

She was under the covers in her bed, a small nightlamp on. It had been a while since Steve had been in her room and it was like taking a big gulp of nostalgia. Her room was her sanctuary, so it reflected her heart’s desires. Every surface of the room was littered with one of their memories together. Her pinboard was still holding the notes he would write to her in school, the birthday cards he made himself and the portraits he would sketch for her. On her desk stood the numerous gifts he had gotten her, each well taken care of despite the years between. Right beside her on the cabinet was a picture of them together, both of them holding hands and smiling at each other in what could only be called as “lovesick smitten idiots”.

He was cautious as he lowered himself next to her on the bed, her face so peaceful he felt like he would taint it by his touch and presence. He had looked at her for years, sketched her details hundreds of times and yet each time he beheld her, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was a memory that he tried to forget and yet it emerged every time he closed his eyes. She was in his skin, a part of him in a way that defied all laws of nature and social customs.

“Are you going to keep staring at me and be the creep from Twilight or do you plan on getting inside?”

Her voice made him jump because she hadn’t opened her eyes. She was smiling that lazy smile of hers when she would catch his bluff in poker. He chuckled and shifted the sheets, climbing under them and curling his body around her. It may as well have been cliché to say that they fit like a puzzle, but it was true. They were molded to fit against each other perfectly, like that lid you close over a box and the satisfying ‘tick’ sound it makes when it clicks into place. That’s what being with her felt like. Fitting in. Coming home.

“Why are you doing this Y/n?” Steve asked and she pushed her body into his so he could hug her tighter.

“Because you won’t do anything Steve. We’ve been running around in circles for so long now, and every time I think that finally we’ll be together, you abandon fort and run. I can’t do this anymore.”

Steve took her left hand and watched her ring twinkle in a taunt. It could have been him. It should be him.

“Don’t marry him. He will never give you what you want.”

“I know that Steve, no one can give me what they want because they aren’t you. But I can’t keep waiting for you in the sidelines hoping you’ll pull your head out of your ass. I want to be loved, preferably in this life.”

His arms were like tentacles around her, but she didn’t complain. Every embrace and moment between them was so fleeting, a stolen moment that she enjoyed what she could get. This was probably the longest in a few years that they had held each other without one running for the hills.

“I love you, you know that.” He whispered in her ear, longing evident in his voice.

“I know that, as much as I know that you won’t do shit about it. Loving someone is not always enough Steve. It’s just the beginning. I – I won’t keep my love a secret. I don’t want ten angry sensual minutes in the broom closet. I want walks in the park and two dogs and a cat. I want picnics with our family and pictures that are not restricted to my room. You can’t give me that. You won’t.”

She had run out of tears. Her fiancé may not be Steve Rogers but at least he was an honest man who tried his best to love her the way she deserved. She had met his family and they had met hers; they could post pictures on social media with cheesy captions and hold hands as they drank coffee from a cheap corner place.

“You can never love anyone like you love me” It was a sulky declaration by a hurt lover and she almost cooed to him like a mommy consoling her baby. Steve may have been older to her in years, but when it came to love he was an immature brat.

“That may be true, but I will try. I am not Penelope waiting in the balcony for Odysseus to return. I love you, and that love may never fade away. But my life will go on. It is your choice if you want to be a part of it.”

She faced him, her eyes open and clear. He didn’t know when the little girl who needed help to reach the jar on the shelf had grown up in this headstrong woman who could beat a sailor when it came to cursing. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her staying like this in someone else’s bed, looking at them the way she looked at him. Steve rarely coveted something in his life, but he didn’t realize until now how much he coveted her love. If he lost that, he feared he would lose himself.

“Your father is going to kill me” Steve groaned, and she laughed. Her head was on his chest and an arm around his torso.

“We can elope, you know. Run away and get married. It will be too late to do anything then. You’ll be stuck with me.”

“Did you just propose to me?” Steve questioned and she nodded, her eyes naughty.

“I’m always a step ahead of you Captain. I figured you would take another month at least to ask and I have wasted too much time already.” She whispered against his lips. He leaned up to kiss her deeply, unhurried for the first time. It was like their first kiss all over again, like two star-crossed lovers smashing through their final obstacle and uniting. Steve didn’t know how he had survived so long without having her like this, but as his hands found her soft curves, he swore he can’t go a day without it.

“Stop stop!” She said, pushing his chest and rolling away from him. “We’ve waited this long. You’re not getting your dick wet until you finally commit to me.”

Steve looked more dumbfounded than offended and responded by finally taking off the ring on her finger and throwing it away carelessly.

“I’ll steal the Quinjet, meet me in the hanger in half an hour. Don’t pack shit. We’ll make one stop for the rings and get the first officiant I can find to marry us. We’ll probably be back by breakfast. And then,” His arm wound around her waist “I will lay rest to the sexual tension of years by getting my dick wet. Repeatedly.”

+++++

It was to be expected that Tony’s daughter wouldn’t do anything halfway through. A flair for dramatics was her inheritance and she and Steve walked into the compound newly married in rumpled night clothes and shit eating grin. They found everyone eating in the kitchen, and greetings stopped halfway when the rest of the team noticed their clasped hands.

“What the fuck…” Bruce said, half eaten celery dangling from his open mouth.

Y/n flashed them her award-winning smile and showed the matching rings on her and Steve’s hand. It was a riot under a minute, chairs scraping as they crowded them, trying to see if it was a joke. Then just as suddenly everyone stopped and Tony stepped forward, a spatula in his hand that to Steve looked as threatening as a gun.

“You sick son of a bitch!” Tony shouted and Steve flinched. He looked at Y/n but all she did was wear a smug look on her face that should be illegal in about three continents. “You little bitch! You are supposed to be from the 90s! You were supposed to ask her hand from me like a gentleman you sick little fuck!”

Steve blinked in confusion while she laughed, hopping like a little girl to hug her father.

“Pay up, daddy! You owe me 500 bucks.” She said and Tony groaned, pulling out his wallet and handing her crisp five 100s.

“I – what? What happened?” Steve sputtered, still surprised he wasn’t being beaten by the Iron Legion.

“You weren’t supposed to elope you bastard. Always knew chivalry was dead!” Tony huffed then went back to cooking. “Congratulations by the way. Fucking finally. I’m not surprised my girl had to do everything anyway. She’s taken after me.”

This was a plot twist Steve never expected and he looked at his new wife with a look of horror on his face that could only be translated to as ‘what the fuck have I gotten myself into’.

“I told you baby, I’m always a step ahead of you.” She said, trying and failing to blush like a bride.

+++++

Taglist is open

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Fanfic for Sylki week Day 4: Romance Tropes @sylkiweek

Tropes used: Marriage of convenience, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, Rated: strong T for language and content.

Asgardian AU, in which Thor and Loki are children of Odin while Sylvie is the daughter of Laufey, engaged to the prince of Asgard.

---

Asgard and Jotunheim had achieved peace wish a promise- the promise of an alliance by marriage of Laufey's only born daughter Sylvie with Odin's first born son Thor.

[[MORE]]

Princess Sylvie had been deemed too small, too weak for Jotunheim, and sent to Midgard, to be brought up by several families over the years, till she attained adulthood and was capable of fending for herself.

That had backfired gigantically. Sylvie had grown up into a strong, independent woman, with powers of enchantment that she used for hedonistic purposes, and no loyalty or attachment to Jotunheim. Her skin was pale and her hair was blonde, far from the blue and rugged appearance of a frost giant, and she wanted nothing to do with her father, or his alliance.

Naturally, Laufey took her by force and imprisoned her, threating to tear her apart limb by limb if she did not agree to the marriage. He was old, and growing weaker, and he would need someone to ensure the survival of Jotunheim, even if that someone was the offspring he detested.

A message was relayed to the alfather, requesting the betrothal.

Thor, Prince of Asgard, simply refused. He was reminded of his obligation to the kingdom, as Prince and future King, but his heart lay with a human in Midgard, and he vowed to take no other as a wife. Odin offered him a chance to live out the rest of her limited lifespan with her, before returning to Asgard and marrying Laufeydottir, but Thor did not relent, choosing instead to step out of his role as heir, relegating it to his younger brother.

Loki Odinson had always wanted to be king, yet never found himself in a position where it was in the realm of possibility. His father clearly preferred his older brother, and he would never do anything to actually harm his brother and get him out of his way, no matter how many times he made his brother the victim of his cruelest practical jokes.

Now the role was his, in a way that assured the happiness for both of the brothers, and he was ready to step up, make his father proud and earn the approval he desperately longed for.

And if it meant marrying Laufey's daughter? So be it. He did not care for love, had never found it anyway, and he could always take mistresses and concubines to satisfy his other needs. Any wife would do as Queen, Laufey's daughter included.

---

"What is the meaning of this?" Laufey roared from his throne when Odin informed him about the change of plans, that Loki was to wed Sylvie instead of Thor. "The Princess was promised to the future King."

"Loki is the future King", Odin assured. "He is my son, and my heir, and your daughter shall be his Queen."

"The hell I'll be!" Sylvie screamed from her place at the corner of the cold, barren, throne room, pulling at her enchanted shackles that prevented her from accessing her magic.

"Silence!" Laufey warned her. "You'll have to excuse my silly daughter." He told his Asgardian guests. "Midgard has softened her."

Loki followed the voice, and was greated by the sight of a woman dressed in typical twenty first century Midgardian garments- skinny jeans, ankle boots, and ruffle-sleeved top. Her hair was short and blonde and unkempt, her eyes burning with rage. He smiled at her. She sneered.

"Your daughter is your prisoner?" Odin asked, surprised.

"Until she agrees to the marriage." Laufey said simply.

Loki's heart stopped. If this woman did not go through with the marriage, then peace between Asgard and Jotunheim would be broken. More importantly, if the marriage didn't happen, then there was no reason for him to ascend the throne instead of Thor.

Loki decided he was not going to let this woman screw up his plans. He was Loki Silvertongue, and he would talk her into doing his bidding. "Father, King Laufey, may I please be allowed to have a word with my future wife in private?"

Odin stared at him. It was improper for a Prince to formally request a meeting with his future bride without proper chaperone.

Laufey didn't care. "Have at it. See if you can beat some sense into her."

Loki nodded, ignoring the blatant misogyny, before making his way to the princess.

Sylvie pulled at the shackles again, wanting to get as far away from his as possible. He looked around, to see his father and Laufey exit, leaving them alone.

"Alright, cards on the table. Tell me why you object to this marriage."

"Marriage?" She mouthed the word with extreme distaste. "Please! This is not marriage. I am being sold like cattle, in exchange for favors from Asgard."

Loki smiled. "Ah, I see. You were raised in Midgard. You share their belief that marriage should be for love. Perhaps..." he studied her carefully. "If you get to know me, maybe you can-"

"Stop!0" She snarled. "I am not going to fall in love with some stranger I meet through a fucking arranged marriage!"

"Fair enough." He shrugged. trying a different approach now. "What if I tell you, that even as my wife, you'll be free to pursue love elsewhere, so long as it doesn't bring my kingdom and my family disgrace?"

"Oh, you're giving me permission to cheat? How sweet of you!" Her smile was venomous. "I suppose you'd be cheating too?"

"I believe the earthlings call it an open relationship", he replied cooly.

"I don't want an open relationship!" She screamed. "All I want is to return to Oklahoma and just live my damn life."

Loki pretended to think for a moment. "And where do you think refusing to marry me will lead you? Not to Oklahoma, that's for sure. Maybe if the Fortunes favor you, your death will be quick. Or maybe Laufey will draw it out for centuries."

She let out a bitter laugh. "As if marrying you will be any better!"

Loki grinned. He had her where he wanted her. "It will be. I assure you. You will not be shackled, for one. You will enjoy all the luxuries of the palace and all the power that comes with being Queen. And", he paused, forever a fan of theatrics. "You will have the liberty to visit Midgard any time you wish."

She looked up at him sharply, and his grin widened. He knew he had her. "The bifrost will be at your service. I assure you, I will grant you everything in my power."

"What's in it for you?" She asked.

"I will be king." He told her honestly. "You are only useful to me for the marriage. What you do afterwards is none of my concern. Do we have an understanding?"

Sylvie eyed the cuffs around her wrists, trying to use her magic one last time and failing. Reluctantly, she nodded.

---

The marriage took place within a month. She felt physically repulsed as her hand was joined with his. And then she was his wife.

His mother, Frigga, gently brushed her hair back. "I am your mother now. You can come to me with any of your troubles." The kindness in her voice made her refrain from offering her a rude reply.

She was taken to his bed-chamber by the ladies of the court that night. It was grand, like the palaces of the kings back in period dramas on earth, the gold accentuated by sporadic green. She sat down on the bed, trying to steady her breathe, trying to decide what to do if he tried to force himself on her.

She had her magic again. She could just kill him and run away. But she could only go so far before Laufey found her again, and this time, her fate would be worse than bedding a stranger. Her best option, was sadly, Loki.

The door opened, revealing the familiar dark-haired man. He eyed her for a moment, sitting uncomfortably on his bed, dressed in the finest Asgardian gown, one fit for a princess. His fingers danced in the air, and she found in the bed beside her a change of clothes- light green pajamas.

She touched the soft fabric, before turning to face him.

"I keep my promises", he said in a serious tone, before his face broke into a mischievous grin. "Generally."

He disappeared behind a partition, and she saw his Cape being discarded on the floor. She decided it was the perfect time for her to change as well.

"Don't princes have servants to undress them?" She asked curiously.

He laughed. "I do. But I do not make use of their services for something so trivial."

He emerged from the barrier, bare-chested and dressed only in silk pajamas. Sylvie remembered, once again, that she was alone in his room. She took a step back instinctively, until her back hit the wall.

He waved his hand in the air again, and the gigantic bed now split into two small ones. "You should sleep here, lest you rouse their suspicions." He suggested.

She nodded, grateful and relieved. Maybe Loki wasn't all bad, after all. "No one good is truly good, and no one bad is truly bad", her earth-mother used to say. "Have you ever been to Earth?" She asked.

"Oh, many times." He reminisced with a smile. "I am the God of Mischief. And humans are the perfect victims for mischief."

She rolled her eyes, tucking herself under the covers. "Why have I never heard of you then?"

Loki grinned. "Surely you've heard of D.B. Cooper."

Sylvie gasped. "No. Way! That was you?"

Loki took an exaggerated bow, before settling into bed himself.

"And have their been any earthy... affairs?"

"Plenty", he said with a shrug. "But nothing that mattered. What about you? Do you have someone back at home?"

She shook her head. "Nothing that mattered."

"What is it then?" He asked with genuine interest. "What is it about Midgard that appeals to you so much?"

She stared at the ceiling, trying to will the colours to change into the simple faded paint of her bedroom. "It's my home. I have a life there. My whole life was stolen from me." The tiniest hint of rage was back in her voice again.

"I will help you return", he promised. "Perhaps one day we may conquer Midgard and rule it together." He said semi-seriously.

She shook her head again. "I don't want to rule. I want to live."

He nodded. "I know ways out of Asgard. I will show you."

"Thank you." She said, gratefully, before she felt the first touch of sleep.

---

Frigga gave her a tour of the palace, telling her stories about her children along the way, asking her questions about her own family back on earth.

She found herself warming up to the matriarch, despite her role as the silent spectator in this arrangement.

Before they parted ways, Frigga gave her an embrace. "I know how difficult this is for you. You are a strong woman, and you shall emerge out of this stronger."

---

Loki took her to Midgard the next week.

"So you're following me now? Making sure I don't run away?" She accused when she learnt he would be joining her.

He turned serious suddenly. "I talked father into letting us enjoy our post-nuptial vacation at Midgard. Honeymoon, as you lot call it. Whether you spend it with me or not is up to you."

He turned then, and started walking. She felt her heart ache unexpectedly as she watched him go.

"Wait!" She called after him.

He stopped, turning around to face her again. She jogged till she closed the distance between them. Crossing her arms in front of her, she put on her most confident tone. "You can stay with me. But we follow my rules. We go where I want to go. We do what I want to do."

"Fine by me."

---

He beat her at both laser-tag and paintball, she cursed him, and he grinned triumphantly. She drank him under the table, and it was her turn to grin.

The smile faded when she saw him up on stage, ready to sing at karaoke. "And this is for my lovely wife, Sylvie!" He pointed at her as the crowd cheered, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarassment.

She took him back to her apartment, and it almost felt like a normal date.

She set up the couch for him, while she slept in her bed once again after what felt like an eternity.

---

The knock on the door was too early, and he groaned his protest. It was Sylvie's landlord, threatening to evict her if she did not pay rent.

She had been gone for two months now, without a job for just as long, and without the means to keep her apartment.

Loki paid the rent for the full year.

"I don't need your help!" She declared once her landlord left, satisfied. "I will pay you back."

"No need", he said gently. "Consider this my way of showing my gratitude for letting me be king."

She pursed her lips, fighting back the disappointment. Of course he did not actually care for her. And that was fine. She did not care for him as well.

---

Days two, three, four and five were all spent catching up with her friends, trying to explain her sudden disappearance as a family emergency for which she had to relocate. He spent the time catching up with Thor and his girlfriend, remembering to properly thank the woman for the role she played in his ascent to the throne.

Day six was when she asked him what he wanted to do. That was how they discovered their shared love for theatre.

Day eleven was spent at a shooting range, and Loki vowed to never anger this woman, after watching her shoot guns like they were an extension of her body itself.

On day fifteen, Sylvie hugged him after they beat another couple in bowling.

He had never indulged in so much meaningless domestics, had never understood the human need for the same, but having Sylvie's arms wrapped around him for ten brief seconds helped him realize the appeal.

They returned to Asgard after twenty-five days. Sylvie gifted Frigga a pendant from earth that matched the colour of her eyes.

---

The royal family always dined together, with Odin at the head of the table, Frigga and Loki on his two sides, and Sylvie next to Frigga.

She found herself instinctively sitting next to Loki one day.

Sylvie froze, staring at Frigga to see if she had caused offense. Frigga gave her a reassuring smile.

Loki was surprised as well, but did not comment.

Five days later, she found herself stealing berries off his plate. And he let her.

---

She found him talking to a lady of his court one afternoon, their bodies close, her hand playfully brushing his arm.

She felt the ground beneath her shake.

Of course he had taken a lover.

And why shouldn't he? They weren't actually man and wife.

They were friends. Yes, that's all they were. And that was perfectly alright.

---

He retired to his chamber that night with a huge smile on his face, and it made her blood boil. "Are you sure you want to sleep here?"

He looked at her in confusion. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged, her shoulders tense. "I don't know. Maybe you'd like better company."

He studied her, trying to understand what had brought about this sudden change in her demeanor. "And what company would that be?"

She shrugged again. "You're a prince. Surely you have a long line of ladies throwing themselves at your arms."

Loki laughed. He sat down on the bed, next to Sylvie, and brought a hand up to her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Are you jealous, wife?"

"Of course not." She said quickly, though her glare betrayed her true emotions.

"Good." He smiled. "Because you have nothing to be jealous about." He planted a kiss on her cheek, rendering it red with the blush that followed.

---

She caught him flirting with the woman again the next day, and this time, she decided to flirt with a man from the court, consequences of the scandal be damned.

His jaw tensed when he saw her laughing at the man's joke, and he excused himself from the company of others for the day.

She found his bed empty that night, and she wondered if her action had finally drove him into another's bed.

---

"Where were you last night?" She asked when she saw him the next day, alone with Odin.

Odin's features masked his feelings, as always

Loki looked at her with irritation. "Perhaps we can discuss this some other time."

"The hell we can", she hissed, digging her heels in. "I asked you a question."

He smiled at her sweetly yet menacingly. "I was with a woman." He lied. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

The hurt was written all over her face, and he realized too late what a great mistake he had made. "Sylvie, I-"

She didn't let him finish. She bowed her head at the Alfather, and made a hasty exit. Loki chose to stay and deal with the matters of the kingdom first, like a future king should.

---

She took the bifrost to Midgard. Those were the terms of their deal, after all. They get married, he gets the throne, she gets her freedom- that was how it was supposed to work.

It was her own damn fault she had started catching feeling for the man. Stockholm syndrome, that was all it was, she told herself.

She found him at her door within the hour. She tried to slam it closed on his face, but he held it open with his feet. "I'm sorry." He said, before either of them had a chance to say anything else. "I hated seeing you with Merlin. And I reacted poorly. I spent the night with the warriors three, drinking away my annoyance. And I lied to you about it because I was-"

She cut him off with a kiss. He was startled, and almost lost his balance, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

"If I ever find you with another woman, again", she said when they parted for air, "I will cut your heart out."

"What about a man?" He asked.

"Same threat", she clarified, before capturing his lips again. She pulled him inside the apartment and locked the door.

---

Lying on the bed, naked under the covers, he looked at her seriously that night. "If you think you're happier here in Midgard, I would gladly speak to Father and release you of your bond. You shall never have to return to Asgard again." He laced their fingers together, his eyes shining with untamed emotions. "I don't want a throne. I just want you to be okay."

"I-" she paused, sitting up.

She had just been granted the freedom she craved. If she chose to leave, Asgard and Jotunheim would be at war, but Laufey would not chass her, nor if Loki was the one to release her. She would be safe, and she would be home.

Or what once was her home, anyway. In the one hour that she found herself alone in her apartment, all she kept thinking of was the view from the balcony at Asgard, the cheer of the children, the Greecian hairstyles of women, and the golden drapes in her room.

And him.

She was not with him because their fathers dictated so, but because she wanted to be. "I want to stay with you. At Asgard." She confessed.

Loki beamed at her, proceeding to kiss her forehead. "We can still visit Midgard sometimes, like we do now." He assured.

She nodded, a small smile forming on her face. "You were right. This is indeed better than being shackled at Jotunheim."

He grinned mischievously. "Well, shackles are not all bad."

[eideticmemory]

FINE LINE | SPENCER REID

Two decades and two children later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting.

Word Count: 2,604.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

You could feel it. The light illuminating your face, touching it with a gentle heat that made your eyes flutter open. Your head felt heavy, as if your neck was attempting to support the weight of a canon ball. You rested your skull on the back of the chair you sat in, eyelids dropping just above your irises. Just in the distance, you could make out a cinema screen. Large, blurry, projecting a bright white screen.

Her image appeared in the center of the square, perfect, in place, still. But you could make out the grin on her face. Watching her dark red lips release the words, “Hello, sleepyhead.”

You could just barely muster up the strength to part your lips, pushing out a small gust of air. It was hot and made your mouth feel like it was on fire.

“H—“

“Oh,” she interrupted you, gently, quietly. You jumped at the feeling of her touching your arm, her palm tight around your forearm. She was cold, freezing, but you could still feel warmth radiating off of her. “I’m afraid you can’t stay too long this time. It’s time to wake up.”

“Hm?” You whined. “Mm?”

“Wake up,” she repeated. “C’mon, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake u—“

“Up!”

You jolted, violently, harshly, your eyes springing open to reveal the usual sight of your bedsheets.

“Mom, wake up,” an exasperated voice sounded from beside you, the words catching your attention instantly. Tightly.

“Huh?” You mumbled, flickering your eyes up to the figure at your side, sitting on your bed, looking at you with a concerned stare. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Eden asked. Sunlight shone on her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. Sent to wake you, pull you back into reality. “What were you dreaming about?”

You let out a long sigh, as if you could even begin to explain your subconscious mind to your 15-year-old daughter. “Oh, y’know,” you whispered, sitting yourself upright and resting back against the headboard. “Just...lions, and tigers, and bears.”

“Oh my,” Eden responded, her big brown eyes concentrated on your face.

You chuckled underneath your breath, and let out a quick huff. “Oh, shoot, is your brother up?”

“He’s up, he’s dressed, he’s fed, and reading the Illiad.”

“Oh?” You stepped out of bed, pulling the duvet over your legs to reveal your pajama pants. “What happened to War and Peace?”

“He finished that yesterday.”

“He gets quicker every hour,” you shook your head.

“It’s a genius thing,” Eden shrugged. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, watching the strands brush over her fingers as she chewed her lip. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah, kid?” You replied, standing in the bathroom mirror as you began to get ready for the day.

“You—you know dad, right?”

You stopped in your tracks, any and all movements coming to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you spun on your heels, slowly, until you came face to face with Eden. “Uh . . . your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Tall? Long, brown hair? Hazel eyes? Has a birthmark on his right thigh?” You listed, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

“Ew,” Eden cringed. “Yes.”

“Never met him in my life,” you shrugged.

“Mom.”

“Kid,” you tilted your head, face softening as you realized how nervous she was. “What’s up?”

She sighed, ducking her head down to avoid eye contact. “I invited him to my sweet 16.”

“Oh.” It came out like reflex. You said the word before you could fully process the information.

“Are you mad?”

“No—huh? E,” you rushed to sit beside her. “You don’t have to hide inviting your father from me—you—you don’t have to invite your father at all. He’s always welcome to visit on your birthday. And of course he should be at your sweet sixteen.”

“Really?” Eden questioned, eyebrows raised. “So, it will be a nice day? A nice party? Everyone will be nice to everyone?”

“Yes, yes, girl scouts honor.”

“Good,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It—“

“Mom!” A shrill voice struck both of you with fear, coming out of nowhere.

“Yes, my love?” You directed at Emerson, watching him fidget with his hands in the doorway. His shaggy brown hair covered his face slightly and his button up was tucked into his khaki shorts.

“My chess tournament starts soon, are you coming?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, kiddo. You and your sister go downstairs while I get dressed.”

They’re obedient, your kids. Kind, driven, smart — with an average IQ of 187.5. The could take over the world if they really, really wanted to. But they don’t. They just want to go out for pizza, and get their twenty dollar allowance every week, hang out with their friends, focus on school, and . . . to see their father. You solemnly set your toothbrush down in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror — tired, worn out, nauseous from another . . . dream? Nightmare? You’re not sure, and frankly, you don’t want to think about it.

So, you pushed on. You got dressed, fixed your hair, used light makeup to cover your exhaustion. Stepping out into the bedroom, your eyes quickly fell on your cellphone — the device laying on your bedside dresser. Hands on your hips, you shook your head, telling yourself not to do it. It’s not necessary, it’s overbearing to even think about.

Then, you remembered who you were dealing with here. And you rushed over to picked up the phone.

“[y/n] Reid,” he beamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you talked to E,” you whispered, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“I did,” Spencer confirmed. “She called me the other day.”

“To invite you to her birthday party.”

“Yes.”

“And are you planning on coming?” You asked.

“Of course I’m planning on coming. It’s my daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right, right, it’s not like you missed her fifteenth, or thirteenth, or her twelfth, or her actual birth, or anything.”

“[y/n]—”

“Listen, I didn’t call to argue, or even talk,” you sighed. “I just called to tell you that this party isn’t an option. You will be here Saturday at 10 o’clock sharp, you will help decorate, you will spend time with your children, and you will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. Understood?”

“I have to help decorate?”

“Spencer—“

“I will be there. 10 o’clock. I will help decorate, I will spend time with my children, I will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. I understand.”

You released a quiet huff, like your lungs couldn’t stand to hold the breath any longer. “Thank you.”

Spencer let out a soft, sad laugh, “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Chess gives you anxiety. You understand it. You can conceptualize it, and even play it. Well. But the bubbling in your stomach every time you witnessed a game — particually one where your eight year old son is playing — comes back to haunt you again and again. You don’t worry about Emerson, he can take care of himself. He’s like his father in that way, the game is in his blood. But the tension, the speed, the risk. It made your breath lodge in your chest, and every so often, you had to sigh to regain control.

The only thing that could pull you from that stress is Em. Emerson Derek Reid, the little half smile on his face when he wins a match. It makes the three hour tournaments worth it. Watching your boy play against college level students who have been playing all their lives. Yeah, so has he.

He jumps off stage in an excited state, rushing towards you with open arms. “You’re a tiger, kid!” You exclaim. “You killed it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he shrugged. “It’s really my opponents’ fault, they wouldn’t know a queen from a rook if it was looking them in the face.”

“Ooh, cat fight.” E remarked, causing Em and you to laugh.

“Hey,” you said. “Since you’re both already out of school today . . . wanna play hookie?”

“Mom? I am shocked!” E gasped, trying hard to contain a laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, we never get to hang out anymore since you guys started these college classes and my business went up. I’m off work, you’re already out of class, let’s just do it. Let’s go shop and eat and hang out and I will write you guys an excuse for tomorrow, okay?” You rambled, putting your hands to their shoulders.

Em and E looked at each other, and after a minute, they looked up at you and nodded.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You took them to the mall. Bought Em some new clothes, but he wasn’t really interested. You and E did most of the picking. He sat in the corner of the store reading and only participated to try on outfits you guys had picked out. You both squealed and told him how cute he looked, and he scrunched up his nose. Just like . . .

And then you bought E some shoes, some vans. There was a huge sell, and she fell in love with everything she tried on. And you fell in love with seeing her happy so you ran up a bill.

“Okay, which one of us is dying?” E said as you sat at lunch. Em bursted out laughing.

“Wha—neither of you! I just wanted to spoil you guys. You kill yourselves all week with school, even though it’s summer. And I never see you, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Em hummed, an unconvinced look in his face as he eyed his sister. “I bet someone died.”

“Em!” You exclaimed, E’s laughter blending in. “God, you guys are morbid.”

“Our parents both worked in the FBI, we’re basically trained,” E giggled.

Just then, you got a call. Work. Fuck. You stood from the table and stepped outside, excusing yourself first.

“[y/n].”

“Can we close the Pickett case tonight?”

“Raven . . .”

“I don’t want that boy in that house for one more second. [y/n], I will send you more of my notes, but . . . read them, read them. You will understand. Please.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there at ten. If you are not there at ten . . . I’ll wait for you. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thanks! Bye. Sorry. Bye.”

You took in a deep breath and shook your head.

Nothing was going to spoil your lunch. Not today.

The car ride home, the three of you vibed to music. Your kids knew every word to Fleetwood Mac’s discography and it was your greatest accomplishment. They even developed their own dance routine to Dreams when they were younger.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You pulled up to your house, and as you approached the driveway, you saw a familiar car parked out front. Your stomach flipped, caved in, skipped, hopped, and jumped.

Words can’t even described what it did when you saw him.

Sitting on the porch swing.

“Dad?” Em exclaimed loudly in excitement. You parked in the driveway, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Dad?” E said quietly, confusion in her voice. “Did you—“ She directed at you, interrupted by her brother hopping out of the car.

Em ran up to Spencer, and his father scooped him up in a quick motion, spinning him around and kissing his head.

You let out a quick huff, turned to E and smiled, “C’mon, go say hi.”

You followed E out of the car, and watched as she tip toed towards Spencer. She suddenly skipped and jumped into Spencer’s arms.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

“Hey, kid!” He replied, before putting her on her feet. “Your hair is getting so long!”

“Yeah,” she twirled her hair and laughed. “What are you doing here!”

“I wanted to see you guys . . .” He turned to you. “And your mom, who’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Hello,” you shrugged, giving him a kind smile.

“Are you staying for today, dad?” Em asked, tucked under Spencer’s arm.

“I was actually hoping to stay until Sunday, if that’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Your very, very least favorite person on the whole planet.

“Please, mom? He can be here for my birthday!” E pipped.

Em. E. Em. E. Those big, pouty eyes of theirs staring you down. “You can stay in the guest room,” you told Spencer.

“Is that close to your bedroom?” Spencer smirked.

“Heh,” you huffed. “Don’t push it. You can stay upstairs.”

“Yes! C’mon, dad! I made a new model that I wanna show you!”

Later that night, you made the kids pasta. It was one of your finer cuisines, taught to you by an old friend, and they asked for it all the night, especially when they needed to study.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen after getting settled upstairs. “Woah! I thought we could go out for dinner, huh? My treat?”

“We would, dad,” Eden said. “But we both have tests tomorrow. Calculus and Physics. Maybe tomorrow.”

You set their plates down and looked up at Spencer. You walked over to him, eyeing him knowingly as you led him out of the kitchen.

“They’re nerds,” Spencer laughed.

“They’ve also both got an eidetic memory. It’s gonna take them all of three minutes to study, then they’ll be all over you again,” you told him, walking out onto the back patio.

Following you, Spencer closed the door behind him, isolating you two on the porch.

You sat down, plopped down, and looked up at him, “Why are you here?”

“Subtle.”

“Spencer.”

“I mean it, you should be a federal agent.”

“Spencer.”

He sighed heavily, “I have some things I want to . . . handle.”

“Here?” You asked.

“Yes,” he hesitated. “I haven’t been enough a part of the kids’ lives—“

You rolled yours eyes. Yeah, you knew that.

“I want to fix that, to have a real relationship with them.” He continued.

“You’ve always been able to,” you shrugged. “You get distracted.”

“Work,” he muttered.

“Always is.”

“And . . .” he whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “And?”

“I — I want to fix my relationship with you.”

Huh.

“I want us to go to therapy.”

Huh.

“Wha—“ You stuttered, rising from your seat. “Spencer, what?”

“Not couples therapy. Nothing . . . romantic,” his voice cracked. “But we can’t keep acting so . . . poorly around the kids. They’re smart, they notice things. They always have.”

“Spencer, how are we gonna go to therapy? You’d need to dig up Freud himself and have him work on us full time.”

“I just think we need to talk,” he murmured. He stepped closer to you, breathing deeply as he towered over you. “Will you please just think about it?”

You stared him in the eye, let out a heavy exhale.

Spencer.

[peakywitch]

Hello you creative human you! I was wondering if I request some good old tommy angst with him finding out his daughter has lost her virginity? Could do with reading some drammmma while I’m working from home😂💕

His Daisy - Tommy Shelby

Warnings: usual stuff, you know (swearing, mentions of killing and sex)

Word count: 1.2 k

A/N: Hello my cutie!I couldn’t use angst, I’m so sorry, but it’s cute cute cute and has a lil drama so you don’t get bored. How’s your work doing, everything fine? i hope zoom calls are not drowning you!

As for why i didn’t use angst: i don’t believe Tommy is a slut shamer, and neither should we. Yes, my feminism got in the way, but i wasn’t comfortable. Sorry! Hope you enjoy it anyway <3

Ps: i’m not saying you are a slut shamer, nor that you think tommy is one, haha xoxo

Six in the morning was marked on the clock, which sounded in time with Tommy's footsteps.

“Tom,” his wife began, “you're going to dig a hole. And I don't think you want to be in a tunnel again. "

As he finished his millionth cigarette of the night, he collapsed into one of the black chairs in the living room.

"I swear...” he spoke, slowly and furiously “that as soon as she walks through that door, I will drag her to the car and I’ll take her to a house of fuckin’ nuns, Y/N. I swear to fuckin’ god."

His wife sighed and pursed her lips in disgust.

It was not the first time that Daisy had escaped during the night. Y/N and Thomas knew perfectly well, but she always came back at three in the morning.

Tommy changed position every two seconds; he was uncomfortable, angry, nervous and scared. Y/N did not remove her fingernails from her lips, nor did she stop fearing the worst.

They spent ten minutes in silence, in their pajamas and in the middle of the room. The house that had ten rooms seemed even smaller than the tunnels of France that still lived in Tommy. And with every minute that passed, the house got smaller and smaller, and the knot in both throats grew and tightened more and more.

After five more minutes, footsteps and quiet laughter were heard in the front yard. Tommy separated his palms from his eyes and looked at his wife in relief. His face was deformed just after hearing the voice of a boy, which accompanied his daughter's voice. Like a shooting star, Tommy bolted for the door to give his daughter a warm and agitated welcome.

"Daisy, you are going to kill your father." Y/N sighed, getting up from the chair, while listening to how the laughter stopped.

"Dad…” said Daisy, seeing the man in pajamas.

"Indoors. Now."

Tommy's voice erased all happiness from the night before. She turned to dismiss the boy, but her father's rough tug interrupted her, forcing her inside.

"Dad!" she yelled complaining, but the slam of the door made her scream inaudible.

"Daisy, where were you?" Y/N asked, stepping to one side of Tommy.

"It doesn't matter..." she said, trying to free herself from Tom's grip.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he asked, walking into the living room with her daughter's arm in her hand. He sat Daisy on the chair in which he was the last fifteen minutes “You're going to sit in that damn chair, until I feel like. Or until you tell us where the fuck you were! "

"I'm sleepy, we'll talk later."

Daisy tried to get up, but her father's scream commanding her to sit scared her, sending her back to the black single chair.

"Mommy, you know where I've been..." Daisy started.

Thomas's expressionless face scared Daisy even more. The anger showed in his eyes, always.

"Save the stories, young lady. Tell us where the hell you have been because today I am sending you to live with nuns. "

"Yeah, of course."

“Daisy, we haven't slept in five hours. Please just tell us where you were." Y/N sighed, hugging herself. It was a cold morning.

"I was with Adam." she said, sighing heavily.

"Who the fuck is Adam, Daisy?" Thomas asked, keeping his tone.

Daisy looked at Y/N.

Shit.

Adam.

Y/N had forgotten to talk to Tom.

"Daisy, go to your room." Y/N spoke. She had promised her daughter that she would explain to her father.

"Y/N..." began Thomas.

"Now." she sentenced, heading to her husband's study.

"Y/N!" he yelled, following her. He turned in his footsteps and ordered Daisy to stay right there because otherwise the boy would become history thanks to the Peaky Blinders.

With the second door slamming in the morning, Thomas Shelby and his wife locked themselves in his study, demanding an explanation.

“Tell me where the fuck was Daisy, Y/N.” he demanded, while serving himself a glass of scotch.

“If Tommy Shelby doesn’t drink his scotch at crazy hours it’ll evaporate.” She said in a whisper.

“I will drink whatever the fuck I want, at whatever hour I fuckin’ like, Y/N!” he defended himself angrily. He finished his glass in a second, to sit shortly after in a chair, near to where his wife was standing.

“Now, tell me where Daisy was. Because apparently, you knew the whole bloody night, and didn’t bother to tell me.”

His calm tone always exasperated the woman, he had that voice every single time, every day.

“Yeah, of course. I’m an idiot. I made you spend five hours awake, because I knew where she was and just wanted to make fun of you. You are right.” She argued sarcastically.

Tommy took his glasses of, dropped them in the table by his chair an touched his nose bridge. If there was anything he hated more than war, was sarcasm.

When she seated on the black chair next to her husband’s, she took his hand in hers.

“Tommy, look at me.”

When she saw his eyes, she traveled twenty years back in time. His concerned look was the same look he had when Daisy was born. She smiled slightly, he looked as beautiful as ever. His mood never mattered, sad, angry or happy. He was always the most handsome man she ever lied eyes on. Well, when he had that playful smile on his face, he was charming.

“I didn’t know where she was, Tom. I did not. But I now know.”

“Does she have a…?” he whispered.

His mouth could hide his smiles, his eyebrows could hide his frowns, but his eyes could never hide happiness or if he was worried. It was as if they changed, there was something that changed.

“Boyfriend?” she helped him, he nodded “yeah, kind of.” Y/N smiled, Tommy did too.

“Did they…you know?”

Thomas Shelby could say the alphabet of bad words. He knew them all. He knew a few in other languages, too. He had no shame in saying them everywhere and to anyone. He could also be very abrasive with his words, but with Daisy. With Daisy, he never said a bad word. Not until she turned sixteen. He got used to say “muffin” and “puppy” in front of her. Arthur once made fun out of him, but his gaze shut him up, forever. So, the fact that he wasn’t saying the word “sex” didn’t shook Y/N at all.

“I think so.” His wife smiled, looking into his eyes while caressing his hand.

“I swear to God, if that fucker hurts her, Y/N, I…” he started, whispering angrily.

“You will take care of your daughter. Because she will need you. In a month or two years. And you’ll be there for here. As you were there, holding her little hand in yours when she was born.” She interrupted him, with a smile on her face.

He fought the tears. He fought, hard. His baby was a woman now, and he had to accept it. And be there to hold her hand and hug her until her heart was in one piece again. But that didn’t mean that he had to forget about revenge if that ever happened.

He let out a smile, he couldn’t fight the smile. And he didn’t know if it was because of the beautiful daughter he had, or if it was because he knew no one could harm for free his Daisy.

——

taglist: open

@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6

@fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby

@stydia-4-ever

[earthlostgirl]

This is probably the weirdest fic I've ever written. ha ha ha ha ha But I wanted to see them in that situation....

New, Old life

When Spike opened the door, Faye was sitting on the stool, drinking something steamy from a cup. She smiled when he held out a sunflower.

“What have you done?” she asked, putting the cup down on the table and looking at him skeptically.

“Don’t you know what day it is today?” Spike asked, approaching her and holding out the flower.

“Would I have to know?” she asked as she took it.

“It’s our anniversary, it’s been twenty years since we met.” Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in front of her, smiling.

“Twenty years? How old I am... I hate you for making me feel old.” Faye brought the flower closer to the face so she could smell it and smiled.

“You’re always so romantic.” Spike moved close and kissed her on the lips. “Are we alone?” he asked as he hiked her skirt up to her thighs.

“No,” Faye murmured, gently passing her hands down Spike’s back. “Vera’s in her room... with a boy.”

“What? Your sixteen-year-old daughter is in her room, alone, with a boy?”

“My daughter? She’s fifty-fifty yours...”

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Don’t be paranoid...”

“Paranoid? I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. I know very well what a teenager of that age thinks about girls... At her age I...”

“At her age, you had killed people. I don’t think they are comparable lives,” she interrupted him.

“I at least have memories of everything I did...”

“If she wants to sleep with that boy, she will wherever it is. I prefer it to be under my roof, so if she needs my help, I’ll be there to rip the balls off anyone who wants to go overboard with her,” he said, standing up. “But you’ve always preferred to shoot before you ask.”

Spike hated seeing that hurt look on her face. Over the years, he hadn’t learned to shut his fucking big mouth and stop saying things that hurt her when he got pissed.

He followed Faye into the room. Apologizing was another thing he hadn’t learned.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting on the bed.

“To get Jean from training.” Faye hadn’t learned to stop running away instead of facing problems, either.

“It’s two hours before she leaves,” he sighed, trying to remain calm.

“I know,” she replied harshly, as she was shoving things into the bag.

Spike set his eyes on the dresser. There was a little white box with a note on top. He walked over to look. It was a pregnancy test, on the note was written in Faye’s neat handwriting: “Dad?”

“Are you...?” Spike asked, showing her the package.

“I don’t know... I wanted to wait until you were here to find out, but since you’re an idiot,” Faye said, taking it out of his hands. “Now, fuck you.”

“Faye...” He made no move to stop her.

“Try not to kill the kid in front of your daughter. I don’t want you to traumatize her for life,” she snorted sarcastically.

She left the room without looking back, putting on her jacket and holding her car keys in her hand.

Spike just sat smoking in the kitchen, his eyes glued to the stairs leading upstairs. He heard a door open and laughing voice.

Vera came down the stairs, smiling. She was the spitting image of her mother; the same hair color, the same skin tone, she was tall and thin, she even had the same haughty mannerisms. She was followed by a boy, a 16-year-old teenager who was as awkward as a teenager could be, with messy hair and a little fuzz on his face.

Vera smiled in delight at the sight of him and hugged him.

“Why are you smoking?” she asked, pinning her brown eyes to him.

Spike shrugged and looked at the boy above her.

“Who is he?” Spike asked, looking at his daughter in a serious tone.

“Hello sir...” the boy stuttered nervously. “I’m Ricky.”

He nodded to him, and his daughter gave him a cheeky glance.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Vera shook the head, waving her long hair and placed her hands on the hips.

Spike held back a laugh as she pushed the boy in front of him.

“Want a beer, kid?” He asked, moving over to the cooler.

“I can’t drink alcohol... I’m a minor sir.”

Spike enjoyed making the boy nervous more than he had imagined.

“I didn’t ask you that,” he replied seriously.

“I... uh... I,” the boy didn’t know what to say or where to jump in, wondering if this was some kind of test he had to pass.

“Do you want one, sweetie?” Spike asked Vera, who smiled at him in disbelief with a hint of malice.

“That smile only works for your mother, so don’t even try it.” Spike smiled smoothly as he opened three beers and set them on the table. “If you think I don’t know you drink once in a while you’re very naïve.”

Vera took hers and raised it to her lips.

“I’ve only tried it,” she said, dropping her long eyelashes and putting on a sweet, girlish voice.

Spike raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he passed the other bottle of beer to Rick.

They sat on the couch, listening as Vera enthusiastically talked about her plans for the summer. Rick nodded, ready to follow her wherever she went.

A car horn blared down the street. Rick waved goodbye with a limp handshake, and Vera walked him to the door.

Spike sighed in exhaustion. She would be the one to break the boy’s heart, his little witch, beautiful and evil. The little boy looked up at her from the door with a goofy face and she blew him a kiss.

When he closed the door, Vera jumped onto the couch and snuggled up against him.

“You don’t like him at all, do you?” she said, taking the beer that her friend hadn’t even touched.

“You don’t like him either,” said Spike, taking the bottle from her hands and she pouted in disgust. “Don’t push it.”

She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch.

“Have you finished all your homework?” he asked, lighting a cigarette. She gave him a grim look.

“You smoke too much,” Vera said, crossing her legs on the couch, “I don’t know how mom can kiss you if you taste like a cigarette butt.”

“Your mother quit smoking when she got pregnant with you,” Spike smiled. “She smoked as much as I do. She kisses me because she wants to taste cigarettes, not because she loves me.” Spike joked.

“Well, you could have quit smoking for her, couldn’t you?” She smirked mischievously “Or is it you didn’t love me? Am I an unwanted daughter? Did I destroy your dreams of being a rock star?” Vera put her hand to her forehead and threw herself on top of him. She loved drama. “You were forced to raise a child...”

“A demon is what I raised,” Spike said, grabbing her waist and tickling her.

Vera burst out laughing, kicking as she tried to get rid of him.

“I’m going to call Rick,” she said when she got rid of him.

“He won’t even have made it home...”

“I miss him already...” she said as she hummed up the stairs.

Spike heard the street door opening and a little girl with her hair in a messy ponytail came running in, leaving a sports bag on the ground, jumped on him, and hugged him.

Jean had the same skin color as him. She was lanky and thin. Just like Vera, she had the same hair color as Faye, dark and straight. She had huge green eyes and the same charming smile as her father.

“I pulled off an incredible goal,” she said, sitting on his lap. “You should have seen it. I tackled one of the girls, I got stitches,” Jean said, pushing her bangs aside and showing him the wound. “I broke two of her teeth.”

“But it was training...” Spike looked at her, smiling as he examined the girl’s wound.

“I don’t know where she got that habit of fighting until the last bloody second, even if she gets hurt,” Faye said, throwing her jacket on the couch.

“It was amazing,” Jean said, jumping to her feet, “I ran all over the field, Mel passed me the ball, I grabbed it hard, Judy ran to me and...” She couldn’t stop talking, she was hysterical, she was ecstatic, her big green eyes were shining with happiness. “I plated her, bam! I head-butted her, jumped over her, and threw with all my heart into the net...”

Jean jumped onto the couch and flipped over.

“I’m starving,” she blurted as she bolted for the kitchen.

“I think Ed bit me when I was pregnant with her and she’s infected,” Faye sighed, dropping onto the couch.

She looked at the beer bottles and the cigarette butts in the ashtray, gave him a questioning look, and kissed him on the lips.

“How I missed it,” she muttered, running the tongue over her lips.

Spike leaned in to kiss her again, and she pulled away, smiling as she put her hand to his face.

“Dad,” Jean shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t reach the cookie jar.”

“Do you have to scream like a manic?” Vera spoke, stepping up behind her and lowering the boat. “There is no way to talk on the phone .”

“You talk on the phone all the time,” Jean replied. “I don’t know how you have things to tell.”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand...”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand,” she mimicked her, sticking her tongue out and showing the half-chewed cookie in her mouth. “Snob”

“What a disgusting brat.” Vera gave Jean a shove and headed for the living room. “Mom! Tell Jean to eat with her mouth closed.”

“Eat with her mouth closed, Jean,” Faye sighed, looking at Spike, who leaned back in the seat with his hands over his head, putting his feet up on the table.

“But Mom,” jean replied, sitting back in the easy chair. “Vera started it. She said I suck.”

“You showed me the food.”

“Snob!”

“Monster!”

“Oh god,” Faye complained, holding her hands to her forehead. “I should have abandoned you in a basket downstream...”

“Mama!” said the little girl indignantly, squatting down on the couch and wiggling like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

Jean was about to jump on Faye, but Spike stopped her in her tracks.

“Enough, both of you,” he added, slinging the girl over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes, while she kept bursting out laughing. “I’m sure you have better things to do than fight and annoy your mother and me.”

Spike put her down, and Jean pouted at him, which he endured stoically before sending her to her room. Vera mumbled an “I can’t wait to be old enough to leave home” and left, huffing down the stairs.

They were alone in the kitchen again. Spike was sitting on the stool, turning in on himself, holding the sunflower in one hand.

Faye looked up at him as she nibbled on a chocolate stick. He stopped and held out his hand to her. Faye hesitated for a second, but she took it, and he gently tugged and caught her between his legs.

“Are you not angry anymore?” he inquired, taking her hands and caressing them gently.

“I can’t be mad at you, you just wanted to protect your daughter. I’m sure you’d kill the little girl who put a gash on Jean.” Faye kissed him on the forehead. “You even stopped the little girl from jumping on me, you can’t help it.”

“Are we having a baby?” he asked, clasping his hands behind her back.

“Yes...” Faye leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m too old for this now.”

“Sure, you’re over a hundred years old,” he teased, stroking her hair.

“Spike...” she broke away, looking at him, annoyed. He caught her before she could take another step back.

“Do you think the chromosome gods will give us a boy this time? There are very few dicks in this house.” Spike rested his hands on Faye’s belly and moved closer to speak into her belly button. “Olive, Can you hear me? Can you develop a penis for me?”

“What a fool you are,” Faye told, running her hands through his hair.

“I’m in the minority...” Spike pulled her to him and hugged her by sliding his hands around her waist. “You can conspire against me... And murder me and eat at my corpse...”

“You’re the king of the house.” Faye kissed him on the hair and he lifted her by the waist, sitting her on top of him.

“Shall we keep it a secret for now?” Spike kissed her neck, and she wrapped her arms around him as she nodded her head. “The girls are going to go crazy.”

“This still terrifies me like the first day,” Faye whispered, hugging him. “I still have nightmares about the Syndicate...”

“I know, I sleep with you.” he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her nose. “I have them too, but we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she smiled frankly. “Happy anniversary, Spike.”

“Happy anniversary, Romani.”

by the way it's another girl

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 7

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,670

Notes: Sorry. I’ve been on a pretty good once a week schedule, but this one is a little more delayed. I had a lot going on this week, so I didn’t have a chance to get it up. But here it is, I hope you find it worth the wait!

Shout out to my pre-reading possy, @texaskitten30 and @txemrn, and @twinkleallnight​ for my moodboard! 

Tags: Do tags even actually do anything anymore? Who knows, but in case they do, they’re added below and also in the comments. Maybe that will help at least a couple of you get them. If you want to be added or removed, just let me know. 

Riley paced back and forth in her bedroom, mind reeling from her meeting with Eleanor. It was bad enough that she was going to have to tell Liam that his mother was alive, but now she would have to tell him that the guard they were trusting with their daughter’s life was actually his brother. She was certain, no matter how stoic and level headed her husband was, this news was going to break him. Riley would just need to make sure that he kept his cool outside of the sanctuary of their quarters. 

Her train of thought was broken when she heard a knocking at her door. “Come in.” She smiled as Drake entered the room. “Hey, when you left you had my kid with you. Don’t tell me you left her out in the woods to fend for herself a la some weird Walker wilderness test.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Very funny. She fell asleep on the way back, so I just dropped her off in her room. I wanted to come in and see how things went with you.” 

She sighed and sat on the bench at the end of her bed, patting the empty seat next to her. “You’re going to want to sit down for this one, big guy.” Drake had known Liam his whole life, maybe he could help her figure out the best way to tell him about his mother, and now brother. But she had to tell him about his father first. “I learned a lot more in this meeting, and literally none of it was good.”

He put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Ok, do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you come up with the best way to tell Liam.”

“Well yea, I’m going to need a lot of help with that, like a lot a lot of help, but there’s something you need to know too.” 

She looked up at him with so much sadness in her eyes that Drake felt overwhelmed. He pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, it’s ok Brooks, whatever it is, I can take it. Just let me have it.”

“Your dad was one of them, he was working with Eleanor. They were partners.” Her voice was muffled against Drake’s chest, but he was able to hear every word she said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to be there for his friend right now, but this was also a huge blow to everything he had ever known or believed about his father.

“Wait, he was working against Constantine?” He pulled out of the hug and rubbed his hand over his face, letting the information fully sink in. “But he was his lead guard, he saved his life. More than once.”

“I know. He wasn’t technically against Constantnine, and I guess technically he did die protecting him.”

“What do you mean?” There was a hopeful sadness in Drake’s voice. 

“Well, Eleanor said that your dad didn’t agree with the plans to overthrow Constantine, so the assasination attempt that took his life was actually meant for him.” Riley was so upset that she didn’t even realize what she had said. 

Drake didn’t catch it at first either, still trying to process the information about his dad, but once it hit him, he looked over to Riley, utterly confused. “Wait, who said that? Eleanor who?”

Riley’s eyes immediately fell to the floor. “Yea...that’s kind of one of the other things. The meeting I had today was with Eleanor, Liam’s mother. She didn’t actually die, she went into hiding.” The tears she had been holding back all day finally started to flow. 

“Holy shit Brooks, way to bury the lead. Liam’s mother is alive? You met with her? She was here?”

“She’s...she’s in charge of the Via Imperii in Cordonia. What the hell am I supposed to tell Liam? This is going to kill him.” Riley began sobbing into her hands.

“Hey, shh shh shh, come here.” He pulled Riley back into his arms, gently stroking her back. “This is major. It’s going to be a big blow for Liam, but he has you to help him get through it. You guys have been through hell and back, you’ll get through this too.”

They stayed like that for a while, Riley needed to get all of her emotions out. Drake knew this, and just stayed there to be the comforting friend that she needed in that moment. He had to come to terms with his dad, and he would, but the news he got was nothing compared to the devastation his best friend, his brother, was about to receive. 

Riley was able to finally calm herself down. She pulled away from Drake, wiping the lingering tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean to break down on you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Brooks. You needed to get it out. You need to empty the tank before you bring this to Liam…”

“There’s more.” She interrupted him.

“I’m afraid to ask, but we’ve already come this far.”

“Remember when I was pregnant, and we found out all that information about Eleanor, and how she was pregnant when she…” Riley trailed off. 

“Fuck. That’s right. Liam has a sibling out there somewhere.” Drake ran his hand through his hair. 

“Not somewhere. In the palace, guarding Eleanor.”

“Thomas?” Drake and Thomas were friendly, Drake was friendly with most of the guards. He couldn’t believe that this whole time, he had been talking to Liam’s brother. “Does he know that he’s...that he and Liam are brothers?”

Riley nodded. “He does. Eleanor said that when he learned that he was a Rys, he wanted to be close to his family, and do what he could to keep them safe. That’s how he ended up assigned to the King’s Guard.”

Drake stood and walked over to the fireplace, watching the flames dance as he shook his head. “This is unbelievable. His mother is alive, and he’s had another brother this whole time.” As he came to another realization, he snapped his head back to look at Riley. “Is Thomas his full brother? Like Constantine is his dad too?”

Riley nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Full brother. Constantine had three sons.”

“That means he’s a Prince too. What if he tries to get Liam out to put himself in place?”

“That can’t happen. Eleanor, my Eleanor, is the heir. Liam is the reigning King, so his child would be next in line for the throne…” She paused, taking a deep breath, not wanting to put her next thought into the universe, but it needed to be said. “If anything happened to him, Eleanor would be next in line, and as her parent and legal guardian, I would be Queen Regent, so I would rule until she became of age. They’ve already tried, and failed, to take her away from us once. I don’t think they would do that again.”

“Right, Barthelemy. Jesus, all of our parents sucked. Barthelemy, Eleanor, my dad, Olivia’s parents. Constantine wasn’t exactly in the running for father of the year. You and Hana are the only ones that really lucked out.”

Riley let out a humorless chuckle. “Heh, who would have thought, after everything we’ve gone through, Hana’s overbearing, controlling, parents would have been considered the normal ones.” She walked up to Drake and linked her arm through his. “Drake, your dad was a good guy, he just got caught up with the wrong group. He really did die trying to save the King, just not in the way we thought he did.”

“Yea, I guess.” 

“And you know what?” She grabbed both of his shoulders, turning him to look her in the eyes. “For as shitty as you guys’ parents were, they made some pretty great humans. You, Savannah, Maxwell, Bertrand, Liam, even Leo.” Throwing Leo in there like that got a chuckle out of Drake, which is exactly what she was hoping for. “You guys are some of the most amazing, selfless, caring people I have ever met, and I am truly honored that you all are my family.” She pulled him in for a hug. 

“Alright, that was a pretty good pep-talk. But when you give it to Liam, make sure you mention him first.” They both laughed as they separated. 

“Thanks for the note. I’ll be sure to punch it up before I talk to him.” She smirked at him. “I should go check on Eleanor. Are you going to be ok?”

“Yea, I’ll be alright. I’m more worried about Liam to be honest. Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”

“No, I think this is something he and I need to handle one on one. But I love the concern. See what I mean, amazing human.” She made finger guns and pointed them at Drake. 

“Alright, alright. Well, I was going to head up to Ramsford tomorrow, after we get back. I could take Eleanor with me, she and Bartie could have a slumber party, and you and Liam can have plenty of time to talk.”

“Drake, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve basically spent the whole weekend with her. I’ve already imposed too much.”

“It’s not imposing if I’m offering. I know Liam, he’s going to need time to just deal. He’s not going to be able to do that if you guys have to be in parent mode. It’s no trouble, really.”

Riley was overwhelmed by the generosity of her friend. He had just received news that completely destroyed the image he had of his father, his hero, and his first instinct was to do whatever he could to make things easier for her and Liam. Without saying a word she barreled toward him, the force of her body hitting him knocked him off balance slightly, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Number one best friend of life. No question.”

“Alright slugger, take it down a notch. Go get your kid, I’m going to go back to my room and relax for a bit. Come get me for dinner?”

Riley nodded as they exited her room and took off down different ends of the hallway. 

The next day, Riley Drake and Eleanor were in the SUV on their way back to the palace. It had been another sleepless night for Riley, trying to work out exactly what she was going to say to Liam. She came up empty. She was just going to have to wing it. They would have a couple of hours together as a family before Drake brought Eleanor to Ramsford, then she would completely devastate her husband. 

“Mommy?” Eleanor spoke up, pulling Riley from her thoughts. 

“Yes baby girl?” 

“Are you and daddy going to come play with me and Bartie?”

“No Eleanor, not this time. Mommy and daddy have some grown up stuff we need to do.” She reached across the seat and held her daughters hands. 

“Ew are you and daddy going to kiss?” Eleanor scrunched up her face, causing Drake to choke on the sip of water he had just taken. 

Riley burst out laughing at the comment. “No baby, no kissing.”

“Can I play with daddy first? I miss him!”

“Of course. Uncle Drake is going to go home first, and then he’ll be back to pick you up after dinner.” She kissed Eleanor’s hand.

As they pulled into the palace, Riley’s breath caught in her throat seeing Liam waiting for them in the front. Whenever they spent a night apart, they made it a tradition that whoever got home first would wait for the other out front. This was the first time she had ever hated that tradition. She wished she had a little more time to compose herself before seeing him. 

Drake noticed the panic flash across her face and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got this, Brooks. Deep breaths.”

She nodded as the car came to a stop. She took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself as her door opened. Drake worked to unbuckle Eleanor on the other side of the car.

“Riley, my queen. I’ve missed you.”

The tears immediately started to well up in her eyes. “Liam.” She jumped out of the car, and into her husband’s arms. “I love you, I love you so much.”

He held her close, rubbing her back in soothing circles and kissing her on the crown of her head. “I know, Riley. I love you too. It will be ok, we’re together now. Everything is going to be ok.”

“Daddy!” Their reunion was interrupted as Eleanor ran full force into her parents to join their hug.

Liam pulled back, giving Riley a brief kiss and a wink before diverting his attention to his daughter. “Welcome home, princess.” He lifted Eleanor into his arms.

“Uncle Drake took me fishing. I caught the biggest fish!”

“You did? I’m very proud of you.” He kissed her cheek.

“For the record, it was the only fish.” Drake emerged from the other side of the car, sticking his tongue out at Eleanor, she returned the gesture. 

“That’s alright, going fishing with Uncle Drake and catching the only fish is still a very big accomplishment.” Liam placed Eleanor back on the ground and extended his other hand out to shake Drake’s. “Thank you for taking care of my girls for me this weekend Drake.” 

“For this one,” he signaled down to Eleanor, “anytime. This one,” he nudged Riley, “not so much.”

Riley rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. Liam chuckled, with everything he knew Riley had to endure this weekend, it made him happy to see her joking around, even if it were just for a moment. 

“Daddy, Uncle Drake is going to take me with him for a slumber party with Bartie tonight! It’s going to be so much fun!” Eleanor tugged on Liam’s pant leg to get his attention. 

He crouched down to meet her face to face. “Really? You just got home and you’re already leaving me again?” He gave her an exaggerated pout, she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing his nose. “I’m sorry daddy, mommy said you had grown up stuff to do. Maybe if you say please, she will let you come with me. I bet it will be more fun than the grown up stuff.”

Riley sighed as Liam turned and faced her. “I’m sorry Liam, I know you haven’t seen her all weekend, but Drake offered to bring her with him to Ramsford. And the stuff we need to catch up on will be a lot easier to go over if it’s just us.” There was a seriousness in her expression, Liam understood that she didn’t mean the usual catching up they did when they had been separated for a few days. 

“No, of course.” He turned to Drake. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you? I would like to spend some time catching up with Eleanor before she leaves again.”

“Nah you’ve got time. I’m going to head back to my place, I’ve got a few things for Bartie that I’m going to bring with me. I’ll be by after dinner to pick her up.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. Liam nodded as a silent thank you to his friend. 

As Drake walked to his truck, Liam took Eleanor’s hand in his, and wrapped his other arm around Riley. “Alright then, let’s go make up for lost time. Eleanor, I want to hear all about your weekend. Don’t leave a single detail out.”

They walked into the palace and up to their quarters. Liam and Riley were both dreading the conversation that would come later that night, but silently vowed to forget about those feelings, so they could enjoy time as a family.

Continue Reading

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[ajthedumbass]

Son of a Preacher

Summary: Patton Hart lives in a small town. As son of the local preacher, he’s supposed to be an example of a good Christian son. While trying to meet expectations, one boy might change his life.

Pairings: Mainly intruality, with side analogical and roceit

Warnings: Alcohol, underage drinking, religion, implied abuse, homophobia, swearing, mentions of sex, internalized homophobia. I think thats all but let me know if theres more

All Parts  Next Part >

Chapter 1

-

Patton Hart had always been a good kid.

He went to Church, he helped clear the table, kept his room tidy and his grades high. He never went to parties, or did drugs, or drank anything other than the wine he had for communion. He never acted out. He didn’t want to ruin his family’s image of the perfect “traditional” family.

His mom was a teacher at the town’s elementary school and taught Sunday School on the weekends. She always had dinner on the table at 6pm and hosted bible study groups for the local moms every Wednesday and Friday.

His dad was the town’s preacher. Everyone knew him. They all loved and respected him. He was looked up to by many in town as both a leader and as a great father.

His older brother Percy had been the star of the high school football team. Popular at school and was now engaged to the former head of the cheer squad. He got accepted into multiple top colleges for his athletic abilities. He was the “perfect” son, even though Patton knew of several impure things Percy would do behind their parent’s backs when he lived at home.

And then there was Patton. The sweet boy who rarely got in trouble and did everything he could to be as “perfect” as his brother. He was the kind of boy every parent in town would want their daughter to marry. Though, he never was interested in dating. At least that’s what he told his parents. There was one thing he kept hidden from them. 

He was gay.

-

Sunday was a church day as always. Patton and his mother in the front to be close to Mr. Hart as he gave his weekly sermon. Something about some sinner in the bible and what not. Sometimes his father would start talking about how being gay is a sin.

If only he knew.

Patton gets up in the middle of him talking, excusing himself and listening to his mother tell him to hurry back. He just wanted to get away from the homophobia before his brain starts acting up again. He walks to the bathroom, the smell of alcohol affronting him as soon as he enters. Two boys stand in the corner, drinking from a flask and laughing at some crude joke one of them told. He tries to just quickly go into a stall without drawing attention to himself, but is noticed by one of them. “Hey, you’re the preacher’s kid, right?”

Patton gulps and nervously looks up with a nod. “Y-Yeah... You know you really shouldn’t be doing that here...” He knew both of them from school. In fact, his best friend was ‘rivals’ with one in drama club and twins with the other. The pair, Janus and Remus, were the complete opposite of Patton, which made him extremely anxious about being alone in the same room as them.

Remus was tall and muscular, dark eyeliner outlining his eyes. He had one brown eye and one green eye, and was totally identical to his twin except for two things. Personality, and mustache. Janus was average height and equally intimidating to Remus. His black hair covered his eyes some, though the big scar that went over his left eye was still visible.

Remus’ eyes light up as he grins. “Wanna tryyyy iiiit?” He holds the flask out to Patton, who very quickly shakes his head. “Your loss!” Remus laughs as he takes another sip. Janus sighs, grabbing the flask from Remus. “You’re already drunk enough. I swear if my flask is empty and I have to deal with my dad almost sober... Dammit Remus!” “Whaaaat?” He whines, pouting like a child. 

Patton slips out quickly before either of them can start talking to him again. “I’ll just wait until I get home” He mutters to himself.

Remus runs out after him, Janus behind him. “Hey, what’s your name?~”

Janus sighs. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him.” Patton half-smiles “I-Its okay... I’m Patton” Remus gasps, acting as though it was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard. “Wooooooooooow! See you later Patton!~” He giggles before running back into the bathroom with his friend.

Patton waves “Bye!”

-

“I’m gonna kill him... He thinks he’s so much better than me...” Patton sighs “You got the lead, why are you so upset?” Roman gasps dramatically. “Because he... he... he’s just a bitch!” Virgil chuckles as he sits at the lunch table with his boyfriend. “Yeah, and Roman just wants to fuck him.” Logan laugh as Roman flips them off. 

Patton grins a little before fake glaring. “Language!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, knowing Patton was only joking. “Sorry dad! I won’t say fuck anymore.”

Patton sighs and laughs. “Don’t make me use the finger.” He jokes, waving said finger at them playfully.

Logan snorts “Yes Pat, because that would be so effective.” Before Patton can respond, someone speaks behind him. “Hey preacher boy~” Patton looks over, seeing Remus again. “H-Hi”

Roman groans “Fuck off Re...” 

Remus shushes Roman “I’m having a conversation. How are you Patton?”

Patton blushes a little. “I-I’m good. Uh, how are you?” He asks back. He noticed the way Remus’ hair looked so soft and fluffy, his mustache appearing to match. He wanted to run his hands through it and stare into his eyes.

As soon as those thoughts popped into his mind, the familiar thoughts of hostility towards his sexuality returned. They came any time his family said homophobic things and anytime he seemed to get feelings for a boy. Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, Remus replies.

“Good. Janus still wants to kill me for drinking his flask.” Roman furrows his brows. “Don’t you have your own?”  “Am I talking to you? Anyways, I better go before he finds me and starts bitching about Roman again. Bye!”

“Bye!” Patton giggles and waves, blushing as he turns back around.

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Patton’s got a crush” “On my brother? Really Pat?” Roman groans.

Patton blushes more “He’s cute... His mustache looks soft...”

Logan grins “I think Patton just likes bad boys.”

“I... Oh there’s the bell, gotta go!” He says quickly, rushing out of the lunchroom.

-

Patton walks home, smiling as he heads to the pond he always goes to on the way. He smiles and sits on the bench, pulling out the ziploc bag with a few slices of bread in it out of his pocket. He starts tearing the bread, throwing the pieces into the water for his “duck friends”. He sits contently for several minutes, then notices a familiar face slightly up the shore from him. He moves from his spot and stands behind Remus. “Hey!”

Remus turns around and smiles widely “Hi PatPat! You like frogs?” He asks, holding a very small frog in the palm of his hand with the gentleness of a little kitten. 

Patton gasps “So cute! Can I hold him?” He smiles when Remus nods and takes the frog happily. “Hi little buddy!”

Remus blushes at the sight but quickly regains composure. “I come here sometimes to go frog hunting. I like to look for bugs too.” Patton chuckles “I can handle frogs... not so much bugs, especially spiders. I like to feed the ducks everyday. I give them a little snack. We’ve become quite good friends... if you want, I have some bread left. We could sit and feed them for a while.”

“That sounds nice” The pair sat on the bench, now feeding the ducks together with the little frog hopping around between them. Patton felt happy sitting there with him. He felt free and relaxed. It wasn’t until Remus reached over to touch his hand that his brain moved from autopilot.

“Can I kiss you?”

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Forty-Eight) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of Dom/sub relationship. I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed something.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 10,833

Timeline: A week after part forty-seven.

I drove us home that night when Hotch and Prentiss came home. Hotch was in the passenger’s seat, still holding baby Emily, staring down at her with a bright smile and cooing at her every so often. She kicked around and grabbed at the air in a futile attempt to reach him until he gave in and moved her up his chest so that she could grab at his beard. Lucky. I wanted to be the one to do that. The thought only made me chuckle, though, and move one of my hands towards him so that I could brush my fingers through his hair.

I think that during that drive, I somewhat came to terms with the fact that Prentiss was still alive. I mean… I was trying to be understanding, but at least my mind had wrapped around it, and now all that there was left to do was to move on from the slight anger and betrayal I felt coursing through me. Actually, the first thing we had to sort out were the names. It was too complicated to have Emily and Emily. Prentiss and baby Emily. Especially in the future, I could foresee it becoming a problem and leading to a handful of instances of miscommunication.

So, as we were pulling into the driveway, parking the car just next to Jessica’s, I asked Hotch how he felt about us addressing our daughter by her middle name, Scarlet. At least that way she was still named after Emily, whom we both adored and Hotch risked everything for—including betraying my trust, which was ballsy of him.

Hotch gave her an Eskimo kiss. “Scarlet…” She giggled. “It sounds like a good plan.”

When we headed inside, we saw Jack playing a videogame on his tablet while Jessica was reading a book. They acknowledged our entrance—Jack hardly looked up to even see that his dad was home, so I snuck up behind him and stole the game away from him playfully, holding it above my head so that he had to turn to face us while reaching for it. Jack did as I expected. Once he was sitting on his knees on the couch, making a move for the tablet, he saw his dad. Jack hesitated for a moment. Then, when reality set in, he forgot about the game altogether, and he scrambled to his feet and ran over to Hotch while cheering. Hotch leaned down to catch his son in a hug, careful not to squish Scarlet.

“I missed you so much, buddy.”

I set Jack’s tablet down so that I could sneak Scarlet out of Hotch’s arms. Once she was resting against me, Hotch immediately wrapped his arms around Jack and lifted him up off the ground, squeezing him as tightly as he could. Jack returned the favor. I missed seeing them hug like that—I mean, a real, true, solid Superman hug where both of them were straining and wanted nothing more than to just hold each other until the end of time.

“Are you back for real, for real?” Jack asking warily.

Hotch nodded against him while letting out a choked back sob with a laugh. “Yeah, buddy. I’m back for real.”

“Good,” Jack responded quickly. Hotch kissed Jack’s cheek as hard as he could. “Ew— Dad, your beard!” He wiggled out of Hotch’s arms to escape the scratch feel of his father’s facial hair. “I don’t like it!” Jack rubbed his cheeks clean with his palms.

Hotch laughed again. “I know, I know.”

“Are you thinking about shaving it?” Jessica asked playfully from the couch.

“In a few days.”

“Or longer,” I said. He looked at me and winked.

“Thank you for everything, Jess.” Hotch leaned forward to hug her after she stood. “I know I already owe you a thousand times over, but we can just add this to the long list.”

Jessica shook her head. “There’s no list; and you don’t owe me. Promise.” She leaned in to kiss Jack’s head. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

As she headed to the door, Hotch and I whispered, “See ya.” She collected her things and opened the door. “Thanks again,” we jinxed. She smiled politely at us and headed out.

Jack jumped on the couch and grabbed his tablet again, already bored with the idea of having his dad back. I rolled my eyes. Hotch didn’t seem to mind, though, because at least it felt normal, and it meant that Jack had no clue what drama was brewing between his parents, and that was really all that mattered. We tried to shelter him as much as possible. Some would say it wasn’t good to coddle him as much as we did, but then again, considering everything he had been through, and he was only seven, it was fair of us to want to protect him from everything—including ourselves.

Hotch made a gesture, asking if he could hold Scarlet again, so I gave in, gently handing her back, making sure that she wouldn’t wake up. His smile brightened. As she yawned and stretched, he giggled quietly and sat down next to Jack, who rested his head against his dad’s side. I sighed and sat, too. Hotch, without thinking, kissed my cheek. For a second, I forgot that I was mad at him at all, and I melted, letting my eyes flutter shut, and I relaxed into his touch. I could feel him smiling.

Then, hours seemed to pass. By the time it turned nine, Jack’s tablet slipped out of his hands as he fell asleep against his dad’s side, and Scarlet was already long gone on his chest. She was so tiny compared to him. She wasn’t even curled up, and yet she still only took up about half of his stomach. And then she would squirm to curl up and suck on her thumb while she was sleeping. I couldn’t believe how freaking small and adorable she was, and how she felt so relaxed when she was with him over everyone else. She was always a menace when Morgan, Jessica, or I would try to hold her. But with Hotch, she was just so… adorable… The perfect baby.

Eventually, Hotch ended up asking if we could talk about it—Not Scarlet’s name, but the fact that he left us in the first place. I didn’t understand why he wanted to rush this. We were in a good mood now, and I had actually managed to forget about some of the pain he caused just because I was watching him hold our kids and I was so relieved to be with him again. Why did he want to do this?

But then he said something that gave me cause for pause. “I was scared.” It made me look at him and hold him tighter. “When we found out that you were pregnant, I was- I was so excited. We always talked about having kids, and when it was finally happening, I was so relieved. It felt like all the pieces of our life were coming together, and I kind of just wanted to fast forward to the part where I would get to hold our little girl in my arms…” He looked down at Scarlet and wiped his large thumb over her tiny cheek. “But then she came, and I was holding her in my arms, and I suddenly realized just how scared I was.”

“Why were you scared?”

I didn’t understand how it was that Aaron Christopher Hotchner, of all people, could have been scared of a baby—especially considering the fact that it wasn’t even his first kid. He had experience. He knew what he was doing. But I didn’t know, which should have made me the scared one; yet I never was because I knew that I had him, and that we would navigate it together. What could have possibly scared him?

“The last time I started a family with someone, it fell apart.” Oh. “And I lost everything.” Oh… “I was terrified of losing you, Jack, and Scarlet because of decisions I made. I lost Haley and Jack because of work because it was important to her that I was always around and always available to cater to her needs, but I just couldn’t be; so she left. Honesty is so important to you, Y/N. You value that more than anything in the world. In our relationship, you’ve begged me a thousand times to be honest with you, and with most things, I’ve tried, but I couldn’t tell you the truth about Prentiss, and it was killing me to keep that from you. So, I was suddenly terrified of losing this,” he gestured to the way we were all laying on him, “because I couldn’t tell you the truth. So, instead of actively lying to you, I decided to leave. I ran like a coward, and I stayed away until I was sure that I couldn’t keep the lie from you anymore.” He kissed my forehead again, but this time, he didn’t pull away, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

I reached up to cup my palm around his cheek. “It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not. And I swear that I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

I looked up at him, gently maneuvering my head so that I didn’t hurt him as he pulled away from me. I swiped my thumb over his mole on his cheek. “We’re going to be okay. It’ll take time, but we’re going to be okay.”

“I can see it in your face, you know.”

I paused. “What?”

“The anger. The hate. The disappointment. I know that I fucked up, Y/N— and you can tell me a thousand and one times that you forgive me, or that we’ll move past it, or that if we just ignore it long enough we can pretend it never happened… But I see it in your face, Y/N. You’ve made me promise to always tell you the truth, and I just… I keep fucking up, and there aren’t enough ways for me to say that I’m sorry. I’m going to spend the rest of my life praying that you don’t leave me like Haley did because of this. The unfortunate truth, though, is that as long as I can see it in your face, I’ll never be sure…”

“Aaron Christopher Hotchner, you listen to me right now. I don’t forgive you.” I shook my head insistently. “I don’t.” I stopped to stare into his eyes again. “And I don’t know if I ever will. But here’s the difference between me and Haley. She couldn’t forgive you, and she wasn’t mature enough to just… talk it out and fix it. But I’m not going to let that happen to us. I’m not. I told you a long time ago that I would always fight for you, and I still mean that. It’s going to take me a long time to get over this, to not feel the sting of betrayal every time I look at you or think about Prentiss or hold our daughter in my arms—but the thing about time, Hotch, is that it heals wounds. Eventually, this’ll pass, and I won’t be so disappointed. Until then, though, you’re just going to have to trust that I’m not going anywhere, and you’re going to have to be ready when I want to talk about this and talk about all the lies when I’m ready. There’s going to be a day when I’ve come to terms with this, and I’m going to ask you to just lay out the rest of the lies and the secrets so that we can just get them out of the way and move on, so that we can go back to who we were. Don’t you miss that, Aaron? Being us? Traveling the country together, working random cases, looking into each other’s eyes and just falling in love over and over again. I know I do. So, the best thing we can do is just work towards being those people again. It’s going to take everything we have individually and together, but I know in my heart that we can do it if we just try. Agreed?” He nodded silently. “Then, stop worrying about me leaving, and worry about making it up to me and helping us move on.”

He removed his hold on Scarlet, letting her just rest against his chest so that he could reach for my face and hold me between his palms. “How did I get so lucky?” I didn’t say anything. “How did I manage to convince the one person in the world that I love most to love me and not run away from me?”

“You didn’t have to convince me, Aaron. You never have. I fell in love with you because I see who you are and who you can be, and I am… astonished. I fell in love with you because the feel of your touch makes my knees weak and my heart race. Why would I give all of this up just because you were an idiot?”

He chuckled. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah. You did. And you’re going to keep hearing it for a while, so get used to it.”

He leaned in and kissed me gently. “I will.”

----

After that night, Hotch took off a few days to be with the family. We ended up falling asleep on the couch or in the nursery every night while holding Scarlet and Jack. It was… a process getting used to calling her Scarlet and not Emily, but it almost felt necessary now that Prentiss was back. We weren’t going to change Scarlet’s legal name or anything because I still stood by my decision to name our daughter after Prentiss, but we also knew that it would get too confusing to keep calling both of them Emily all the time. Besides, Scarlet was still a beautiful name, and I thought it fit our daughter perfectly. It didn’t matter what her name or nickname was because she was still ours and she was still perfect in every single way.

Hotch seemed to catch onto the habit faster than I did, though, probably because he had been away for so long that the name Emily hadn’t stuck in his mind yet in relation to our daughter. When we called while he was away, we’d talk about her, but he’d mostly dance around her name. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, but knowing what I knew now, I realized that it was because he also felt awkward calling her Emily when he knew that Emily Prentiss was still out there, waiting to come home.

Explaining it to Jack was somewhat complicated. We weren’t going to force him to call her Scarlet, of course. Emily was still his sister, and that was what he knew. But we didn’t want him to get confused when we would start calling her Scarlet all the time. He said he understood, and he was going to try, but, as expected, he kept forgetting, and we really didn’t blame him. It was going to be a one step at a time kind of thing with him, and we were fine taking it at his pace. He was still young, and the decision was his, honestly. Mostly, tough, I think he was simply happy to have his dad back. He couldn’t care less about Emily or Scarlet or whatever. He had never been away from his dad that long, even with Foyet.

Three months was a long time to be away from our family. A lot had changed at work— especially my temporary promotion— more had changed around the house. Jack was doing really well in school and in soccer, he hardly even needed my help with homework anymore. And Scarlet was trying to walk. She could get up on her feet, and I was absolutely terrified that Hotch was going to miss that first step, but by some miracle, she had held out until he walked through that door for the first time in months. He lifted her out of her crib, held and kissed her while she giggled and kicked at him, and he refused to let her go for the longest time. Eventually, she started getting fussy, so we sat down with her on the floor while she played with her toys. That was when she stood up, grabbed her stuffed animal elephant, then slowly waddled over to Hotch before dropping it in his lap and falling over. He caught her and the two of us were entirely shell shocked. It was like she knew we were waiting for us to be together again to see that little miracle together. Somehow, she made sure to save that special moment for the time when the two of us could witness it side by side.

Besides that, though, there was still so much he missed. I mean, the little things that never seemed important out of context or before the fact, but when they happened… I wished that Hotch was there for all of them. Hell, I even wished that he were there for the nights when Scarlet was sick that Hotch was there just to help out or have those little moments. It sounded stupid, but it was a part of watching and helping Scarlet grow up. He had already missed out on that, and I wasn’t sure when, or if, he could ever make up for it.

On Thursday afternoon, though, he finally had a chance to make that first step towards getting back into the mindset of being the hands on, caring parent he always was. We had a parent/teacher conference set up with Jack’s school to check in on how he was doing. Thursday was the only available day that we could manage to fit into all of the teachers’ schedules. Hotch had been hoping to get back to work by Thursday, to talk with Strauss about getting back into the field and transitioning the unit chief power back over to himself because I really didn’t want to keep it. It was nice while I had it, but it wasn’t my place. Hotch was the real leader of our team, and everyone knew it, even Strauss. But we had to postpone his return just by a few hours so that we could go handle this first.

Really, we just had to meet with Jack’s home room teacher the most. She was the central part of Jack’s education, and she knew the most about how he was doing in school. That being said, there was still his gym teacher, art teacher, and music teacher to meet with, though, of course, those meetings weren’t necessarily going to be that long. Actually, they only took about ten minutes each— if that. But the meeting with his home room teacher, Mrs. McKee, was a little longer than just that, which was expected.

She handed both me and Hotch copies of Jack’s current report card and some of his best homework assignments (all of which I helped with, but I wasn’t about to admit that). “Jack’s doing really well, I’m pleased to say.” She smiled at us as we looked everything over. “He’s reading a lot, writing more than expected, he’s drawing. He’s incredibly good at drawing. Sometimes he’ll get distracted and start doodling during class, but he’ll always stop when I ask him to. He’s extremely creative.”

That was good. Truth be told, I was always worried about Jack. Especially since Haley, I wasn’t sure how Jack was going to turn out. I was terrified that he’d get quiet, shy, mundane, and stagnant. Despite how hard he worked on homework at home, and he went above and beyond at soccer, I never knew how things were going at school, which was where he spent most of his time. Hearing from his teacher that things were actually alright was a huge relief. The fact that he was drawing and was excited about learning, I was so happy. It honestly meant that I hadn’t fucked anything up while Hotch was gone. That might have been extremely selfish of me to think, but I couldn’t help myself. It petrified me to think that I fucked up our son… But I didn’t. At least, not yet. There was still a lifetime to make mistakes— though I prayed I never would.

“As for socially, Jack gets along with the other kids, he doesn’t argue with his teachers, and he participates in class as much as possible. Truthfully, Jack’s one of my best students, but don’t tell the other parents,” Mrs. McKee laughed. We chuckled with her, too. “I’m impressed by Jack, but I’m also worried.” Our smiles fell. I grabbed Hotch’s hand. “Jack’s been getting picked on by another kid named Paul—”

“Paul Cain?” I questioned, my brow raising. Mrs. McKee nodded. “I don’t understand.” I shook my head in confusion, looking to the side at Hotch. “Paul’s been coming over for playdates over the past few weeks. Jack said that they were friends.”

“How long has this been going on?” Hotch inquired.

“About a month,” the teacher replied.

“I don’t…” I hesitated.

I had no clue. Jack seemed so happy when Paul was around, and it seemed like Paul was interested in being Jack’s friend. Why would Paul be picking on Jack this whole time and they’d keep acting like they were friends while around me? Why would Jack want to hang out with his bully? This made no sense. Not to mention, how did I not see it and profile it? I mean, that was my fucking job, right, and I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.

“The good news is,” Mrs. McKee continued, “I’ve separated them, and I’ve talked to Paul’s parents, too. It seems like keeping them apart has helped, and I’m keeping a close eye on it. I’m just worried that Jack might be letting Paul bully him outside of school. Why? I’m… I’m not sure. I was sort of hoping you guys would be able to find out.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”

Hotch agreed. “We’ll have to talk with him. Will you let us know if anything changes?”

Mrs. McKee nodded. “As soon as there’s any kind of update—good or bad—I’ll be sure to call you two.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hotch and I stood. As we collected all of Jack’s papers up, Hotch asked if we could keep them to look over and hang up on the fridge, to which Mrs. McKee agreed to with a bright smile, and then Hotch took my hand. We thanked her again and then headed out so that we could finally drive to work. Though, I stopped when we stepped outside of the school.

I sighed and took a slow seat onto the bench nearby. Hotch hesitated a moment before sitting next to me. On one hand, Jack was doing really well in school. He clearly had an interest in learning, and he was creative, and the reading that Hotch had been doing with him at home since getting back was making a difference already. On the other hand, someone was bullying my son. After everything we had been through, I didn’t need to add bullying to the list of things wrong with Jack’s childhood. Maybe it was time to put him back into therapy? We thought that after about three years since Haley’s death, Jack had moved on enough that he didn’t need consistent counseling. In fact, it seemed like receiving therapy for that fateful day was only causing Jack to relive it over and over again, whereas he had forgotten most of the bad since leaving therapy. But if he was getting bullied… Maybe he just needed someone to talk to. I thought that I could be that person for him, but maybe he was just too scared to come forward about it.

Did I really fail that much as a mother? Did my son feel like he couldn’t come to me about something going wrong in his life? Was there more going on than just the bullying? How about the good news? How much had I missed out on because Jack just didn’t know how to communicate with me? But I should have known, anyhow. We were profilers. The whole time Hotch was gone, I never once noticed any changes in Jack’s behavior. We would notice if something were bothering our son, right; so how the hell did we miss this?

“He’s doing the superhero thing,” Hotch finally whispered while nudging my shoulder with his playfully. I cocked a brow as I looked at him. “He’s trying to be the bigger person by making friends with the bad guy.”

“Doesn’t the superhero usually kill the bad guy?”

“Well, okay… We’ll call him Peter Parker and Paul Cain can be Harry Osborn.”

I chuckled. “Sure.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him tonight, see if I can pry anything out of him, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Is it bad that I want to hurt a seven year old just because he hurt our son?”

This time, Hotch chuckled. “As long as you don’t actually do it.”

I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. We interlocked our fingers again as I snuggled against him as close as I could. It probably wasn’t the time to reminisce, but I truly did miss just sitting with him, feeling how warm his body was, listening to his steady breathing and his constant heartbeat in his chest. It felt like home. And then, like usual, his phone started ringing. I rolled my eyes and sat up.

“JJ, what is it?” he asked after answering it. “Shit…” He sighed. “Okay. Thanks for the heads up. We’ll be in soon.” He hung up. After a moment of sitting in his own thoughts, he draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close again. “Strauss is looking for us. She wants to talk about the Senate’s meeting.”

I hid my face against him to keep my worry from him. Since Doyle, I had been taking a lot of heat from a Senate council that had been investigating our unit because of me. Because of the decisions that I made while appointed as Unit Chief, the entire team was taking a hit, and they all had to come up with answers and excuses on my behalf. When we first got word about the investigation, I offered to quit. I was the one who knew the risks involved with my decisions, I knew that I would have to answer for what happened, but I never thought in a million years that the team would be questioned, too. I wanted to make it easy. I knew that if I just left quietly, the Senate council would leave us alone, and things for the BAU could return to normal. I just wanted normalcy again. Or at least some reminiscence of it since we technically never had any kind of normalcy in our lives.

“We’ll face this and Jack the same way we face everything… together.” He kissed the top of my head.

I was so scared that I was going to get fired. Back when I offered to quit, Hotch begged me not to, just as he always did, and so he helped me deal with taking the heat from the aftermath of the Doyle case. But now it was out of my hands. Someone telling me that I was going to lose the BAU vs leaving it of my own volition was absolutely terrifying.

“You think the CIA will take me?” I joked. Hotch didn’t laugh. “Sorry…” I just thought that the parallel between us and my parents would be funny to him, but it turned out that it wasn’t. “That was in bad taste.”

When his phone buzzed again in his pocket, this time with a text, Hotch gently shimmied me off of him so that he could stand up. He spun on his heels so that he was facing me. “Let’s do it.” He held his hand out, and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. “And I’d rather you go to the NSA.” He smiled.

I hit his arm playfully. “I’d rather die.”

“Don’t be hyperbolic, Agent Hotchner,” he whispered while leaning in.

“Yes, Sir…” I hardly got the words out before kissing him desperately.

----

Everyone watched us as we walked by their desks to head towards Strauss’s office, yet no one said anything. Even Rossi came out of his office on the balcony to eye us. Hotch and I kept moving, though, our heads held high, a fair distance between us so that we were still somewhat obeying our office rules about our relationship—not that anybody would’ve cared by this point. The rules were initially created when we first started dating, but now we were four months into being together… No one would’ve cared if we held hands casually while walking through the bullpen. Still, there was some amount of professionalism that Hotch liked to keep while we were in Quantico, and that was to maintain respect and ensure that everyone’s focus stayed on the cases instead of gossiping about us. Maybe one day that would change, though.

When we arrived at Strauss’s office, I knocked on her door and waited for her invitation to enter. After hearing it, I pushed the door open and stepped in. Strauss was sitting at her desk, removing her reading glasses so that she could look up at me, and she was sitting back in her chair to get more comfortable. She asked me where Hotch was, and I told her that he was waiting just outside in the hallway. She then said she wanted to speak with us at the same time.

I beckoned Hotch in, to which he looked shocked, which I didn’t blame him for. Usually, Strauss liked to meet with us one-on-one because it was a scare tactic, and it was easier for her to gain the upper hand in the conversation, but not this time. I felt like I should have been more wary than I was.

Hotch and I stood directly in front of her, the door closed behind us, a few feet of distance between us, our hands at our sides, our gazes glued to her. I hadn’t been much of a rebel back in high school, but Hotch sure was, so I wondered if this was what it felt like to be sent to the principal’s office. Not that I would ever ask him that. He hated talking about his past and the shitty decision he made back then when he was just acting out because his father was abusive, and his mother was absent. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. At least he was raising Jack and Scarlet the exact opposite to ensure that they had the best childhoods and lives imaginable. It was just another thing I loved about him and his maturity.

“The Senate Committee concluded their investigation today,” Strauss began.

I felt my stomach churn. More than anything, I just wanted to reach for Hotch and hold on for dear life, praying that he wouldn’t let me fall over if I passed out or threw up everywhere. But I couldn’t. At least not in front of Strauss, the one person who tried to ruin our careers after she found out that we were dating. Even though she had come around since then, and she was deterred by the fact that Cody loved us and told her that our relationship wasn’t enough reason to fire us—especially since we got married— Despite all of that, Strauss and I still didn’t get along. I doubt that we ever would.

“They’ve decided that the BAU will remain intact and untouched.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“But they want Agent Greenaway demoted and Agent Hotchner reinstated as the Unit Chief.”

“I’m not fired?” I questioned.

“Not yet.”

I looked at Hotch, both of us smiling, reassured by how the situation turned out.

“However, I’m quietly suspending the two of you for another three days—at least.”

My smile dropped and I immediately turned to glare at her. “What? Why? I thought they cleared us—”

“They did.” She threw her hands up defensively. “But this is the only way I can make sure that you stay home and just spend time with your family, and not think about work.” My jaw dropped. “After everything, I think the longer you guys have to get your house in order, the better agents you’ll be out in the field.” My jaw dropped even further. “But if I find out that you’re still working during the three days, I’m going to keep adding time off. Understood?”

For once in her life, Section Chief Erin Strauss was actually trying to be helpful. She was looking out for us. For once in my life, I felt myself actually relax around her and smile in her direction.

She ignored my politeness by turning back to her work—faking that she didn’t actually appreciate our gratefulness. “I’ll see you two in three days. Get out of here.”

We knew that she meant it playfully, yet we still weren’t going to stick around long enough to argue it. She had been incredibly kind giving us this offer, and there was really no point in fighting it, so Hotch opened her office door for me, and we both hurried out into the hall.

“What the hell just happened?” I inquired, baffled.

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

I smiled. “Three days.”

He was still in shock. “Three days.”

I cupped his chin with my fingers to make him look at me and snap him out of his trance. “Let’s go home.”

He smiled. “I love you.” He tried to lean in for a kiss, but I playfully dodged him and started shuffling down the hallway to head back towards the BAU. “Brat,” I heard him mumble under his breath before following me.

As we headed through the bullpen, leaving the way we came, no one was watching us this time around. Rossi had JJ in his office, the two of them chatting behind closed doors, and Morgan was gone to probably gossip with Garcia in her office. So, Hotch and I kept walking.

“Hey. Where are you guys headed?” Prentiss questioned, hurrying over before we could push past the glass doors.

We stopped and turned to face her. I smiled. “Strauss suspended us for three days.”

Her face fell. “What? Why? I thought everything was squared away with the—”

“She’s giving us time to be with our family.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile. “Good. I’m glad.” We both nodded at her. “So, then, what’s wrong with Jack?” I cocked a brow at her. “I mean, you guys were at his parent/teacher conference this morning, and now you don’t look too excited to get back to him. So, what gives?”

Hotch licked his lips to hide a smirk. We didn’t like to be profiled, but when it happened by accident, it was always impressive. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t easy to profile—I knew that better than anyone—but Prentiss caught it almost immediately. Nine months away couldn’t change her. She knew us like the back of her hand because we were family. Family knows when something was wrong. That was how I knew something was first wrong with the Doyle case and her leaving. That was why she was our family.

“There’s a kid in his class who’s being mean to him,” Hotch answered. “And Jack’s solution is to befriend him.”

Prentiss laughed, “Aw.” I smiled and chuckled with her. I missed her laugh. It wasn’t often that she cracked a smile, the same way Hotch hardly ever did either, but when they smiled, it was like the whole world lit up. “That’s the cutest… and saddest thing I’ve ever heard. What are you going to do?”

“We, um, haven’t figured that part out yet,” I said.

Hotch nodded an agreement. “He didn’t come to us about it, and we don’t want to pressure him into fessing up to keeping secrets from us—”

“He didn’t tell you this was happening?” Prentiss asked with furrowed brows. We both shook our heads. “He wants to solve it himself…”

“Yeah, but isn’t that our job?” I asked. “Aren’t we supposed to protect him?”

“Of course. But sometimes you can’t. Sometimes the best thing you can do is show him that he doesn’t have to face it alone.”

Emily Prentiss, giving us parenting advice? I never saw it coming. Not that it was a bad thing, though. In fact, it was actually pretty nice, especially considering that she hadn’t been around long enough to give any kind of advice with Scarlet before. So, I would take it with Jack. For now. Maybe if I just encouraged her to keep at it, she wouldn’t leave again, and I’d have her around forever to give us sound advice with the kids.

As Hotch and her finished discussing Jack while I zoned out, I snapped out of my thoughts to interrupt and say, “Em, do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

They both paused, and she looked incredibly taken aback. For a moment, she exchanged a glance with Hotch, trying to gauge if he had been a part of this deal or not, and if he hadn’t been, then what did he think of her coming over for dinner? She had never been over before. At least, not on her own. But now that she was back since Doyle was gone, I wanted to make up for all of the lost time. I told her just before I lost her that I felt like I underappreciated her. I wasn’t going to let that continue. No matter what it would take, I would value Emily Prentiss, and I would never, ever take her for granted again—not when I knew what it was like to not have her in my life at all.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Okay.”

“Seven?”

“Sure.”

I smiled and took Hotch’s hand—a relieving feeling. “We’ll see you then.”

“Yeah…”

I started tugging at Hotch’s hand, eager to just get back home with him and to utilize the next few days that Strauss had given us to just spend time with our daughter. Our little bug—as I started calling her. My little man and my lil’ bug. I could live with the idea of just spending another few days with them and not having to think about work. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t want to go back. I still did. I think that going back to work would actually help Hotch and I get over the tension that was brewing between us ever since he came back from the Middle East.

But I kept tugging because it was nice to have him back at home. I liked that it could just be us again, and I could focus on forgiving him a little bit at a time. Someday soon, this whole thing would be a memory lost in the back of my brain, but it would always be there, lingering and waiting for its chance to work its way back to the front of my thoughts as ammunition against Hotch in whatever argument we could possibly be having. But right now, it was all I thought about. 24/7. Prentiss this, Prentiss that. You betrayed me, asshole, and I hate you for it. But I also love you more than anything in the world, and I can’t lose you. Which only makes me hate you more.

I kept pulling him towards the elevator as we waved goodbye to Emily.

I wasn’t going to let us turn into him and Haley. I wasn’t going to let us fail the way she let their relationship fail. I loved my husband, my son, and my daughter too much to just call it quits—even though this should have been the last time he lied to me and pissed me off. If I knew better, I should have called it quits with him the second Emily came sauntering back into the roundtable room. I should have taken the kids and left. But then I wouldn’t’ve been any different than Haley, and as shitty as it was to think—especially since she wasn’t around anymore to defend her memory—I didn’t want to turn into her. That was perhaps my worst fear. So, maybe staying with Hotch through all of this was less about us, but I supposed some kind of point to a dead woman…

I pulled Hotch into the elevator before I could keep thinking about it.

When we got home, without hesitating, I ran upstairs to the nursery while Hotch paid the babysitter to leave early. We thought that we were officially getting back to work, and Jessica wasn’t free to watch the kids, so we hired a nanny ahead of time to start watching the kids—just like Hotch and I always said we would. Only, now we were home… and we were asking her to leave early and not come back for a few days… We would’ve been lucky if she came back at all.

I gasped playfully when I saw Scarlet in her crib, kicking her legs up and out in response to seeing me and hearing my voice. “Hi, my baby.” I giggled and cooed to her as I gently picked her up. “Did you miss me?” I kissed her cheek. She grabbed onto my hair and started pulling at it, something she was obsessed with now that her hands had more movement to them.

Hotch came running in, too, just as breathless as I had been because he was so excited to see her. We only left a couple of hours ago, yet being away from her during that time felt like a thousand years. I just wanted to hold her always. But then again, so did Hotch, and he hadn’t been able to hold her as long as I had, so I had to give her up to him when he approached and outstretched his arms for her. She immediately started laughing and grabbing at his face. She loved doing that, even though his beard was gone again and there was nothing to hold onto.

Hotch slowly sat down on the ground. When he was settled, he gently let Scarlet settle on his lap so that he could accept her pacifier and toys from me as I handed them to him. She cooed as she started sucking on her pacifier. As I grabbed the koala stuffed animal that Prentiss left for her before… well… leaving, I supposed… I sat down beside Hotch, holding onto his shoulder for balance. I groaned as I relaxed.

“You good?” he questioned while taking the koala from me.

I nodded. “Long day.”

“Yeah, well, things seem to be looking up now.”

“I’m… I’m actually grateful this time around for Strauss suspending us.”

Hotch chuckled again. “I thought I wanted to get right back into the field, but after spending those three days at home with you, Scar, and Jack…” He chuckled lightly again. “I’m grateful, too.” He rested his head on my shoulder, making my heart melt in my chest. “I love you.”

I kissed his hair. “I love you, too.”

Hotch lifted Scarlet off his lap when she got too squirmy, giving her space to try to crawl around on her own. She wasn’t very good at it, but she tried her best. At least she was still too young to start walking yet so I never had to worry about Hotch missing that, or her first words. All we had to worry about right now was helping her crawl around and not fall on her face when her arms slipped under her. So, while we were sitting there, Hotch started working on getting her to crawl towards him by holding the koala up as an enticing prize.

She giggled and moved to him a little bit before slipping, just like I assumed she would. I caught her. When she was up on her hands again, she made another attempt, but then she tried reaching out for the toy, forgetting that her arms were the only things holding her up, so she slipped again. I laughed and caught her again.

“She’ll get good at it eventually,” Hotch said. “She’ll be a track star or something one day, I’m calling it now.”

“Our son, the soccer star; Our daughter, the track star. And where do academics fit into that?”

“As long as they get good grades, work their hardest, and come to us when they need help, I don’t care…” He handed the koala to her. “We’ll worry about getting them into the Academy later.”

I laughed loudly. “Come on, Hotch. The Academy?”

“I mean, your parents work for the government, we work for the government, what are the odds that they don’t?”

“What are the odds you don’t force Jack into joining the Academy?”

Hotch squinted at me. “I would do no such thing.”

“Mhm,” I answered sarcastically.

I was just giving him a hard time, to be fair. Scarlet was just too young for us to be planning out her future because we didn’t even know what she liked. We could joke all day that she would be a track star or that she would follow in our footsteps at the Academy, but until she was older, and we would get to know her, we couldn’t actually know that for sure. As for Jack, however, I would have been shocked if he didn’t think about joining the FBI. He always looked up to his father like he was a superhero. I mean, growing up, he literally said we were superheroes, he said that our job was saving the world, and he even went as far to choose dressing up as his father over fucking Spiderman for Halloween! There was no way Jack wasn’t going to consider it. I knew that I wanted him to focus on school right now and being a kid, but come college, it was entirely possible that the conversation was going to come up. Three generations of Greenaway/Hotchners in the FBI? We would be fucking legendary.

“Oh—She’s got it!” Hotch cheered while watching Scarlet crawl around the room towards the beanbag chair across from us. “Future track star, baby,” he said to me as he flung his arm around my shoulders, “what did I tell you?”

I shook my head sarcastically at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am… so lucky…” He turned and cupped my chin with his free hand, making me look up at him as he pressed into me for a gentle, loving kiss. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Mhm.” I pressed into him a little more.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my lips.

“I love you, too—”

We parted when Scarlet threw her koala as a tantrum for not getting attention anymore, and then she started to cry.

“Well, now we know where she gets her neediness from,” he joked while standing to pick her up and set her down in her crib again.

I laid down on the floor. “Yeah. You.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, Agent Hotchner.”

“I thought I’m always right, Agent Hotchner.”

“You are.” He knelt beside me, then straddled my waist. “You always are.” He kissed me again. “And you always will be.”

I could forget that I was mad at him for just another hour or so… So, I tangled my fingers in his hair before pulling him close.

----

The doorbell rang while Hotch and I were trading places in front of the stove in the kitchen. I sighed as I wiped my hands clean on his apron, then turned to run for the front door,

Prentiss perked up when she saw me. “Hey!” And then she started giggling. “You’ve got a lil’ something’…” She pointed at her own nose, referencing that I must have had food there from when I was running around in the kitchen.

I quickly wiped my face with my sleeves. “Better?”

“Better.”

I widened the doorway, ushering her inside. As she stepped in, Emily handed me the bottle of wine that she brought for us as a polite thank you gift for having her over. I accepted it and showed her to the kitchen. Hotch was pulling the food out of the oven, setting it on hotplates, and stressing over trying not to burn himself in the process when we entered.

As he and Emily exchanged welcomes, I grabbed a corkscrew, and I asked Hotch if he could grab three glasses for us. He set his hot pads down before reaching into the cupboard for the glasses. Emily passed them to me.

“Where are the kids?” she asked.

I handed her the first full glass. “Scarlet’s passed out upstairs, and Jack’s eating dinner at a friend’s house.”

“Ryan Locke’s?”

“How did you know?”

“I kept my tabs on you guys while I was gone. Jack likes going to Ryan’s house after soccer practices.” She nudged my shoulder playfully before taking a sip of her wine, then heading to the dining room to sit down.

I exchanged a quick glance with Hotch, my eyes squinting into a short, accusing glare. He raised his hands in innocence. I shook my head at him, then grabbed our wine glasses and took them to the dining room as Hotch plated dinner for us. When he was ready, he juggled all of the plates in his hands and on his arms, slowly making his way out to the dining room, holding everything out for me so that I could help him before he could drop everything. He quietly thanked me.

He sat down beside me after giving Prentiss her food, too.

“How is it being back?” I asked.

She shrugged. “It’s… different. I’m adjusting well, but Reid and Morgan are still really mad at me.”

I shook my head. “Morgan isn’t mad. I think he’s confused, and he’s trying to deal with the fact that he mourned something that wasn’t real, but he’ll come around—They both will. It’ll just take some time.”

“I know, but I just wish things could go back to normal.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing that they aren’t. Means you can start over.”

“When did you get all wise with advice?” Emily laughed.

“I think we all changed a lot while you were gone. Don’t you think?” No one said anything. “You gave us parenting advice earlier,” I said behind my forkful of salad. “Did you realize?”

Prentiss’s face fell. “I’m so sorry—”

“No. Don’t be. It was nice.”

She smiled at me before looking down at her plate. “Have you talked to Jack about it yet?”

“Not yet,” Hotch answered. “I will, though, tonight.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ve got a trick up my sleeve.”

The three of us snickered.

Suddenly, we could hear Scarlet crying bloody murder on the baby monitor next to my left wrist. I quickly turned it down. I sighed as I started moving my seat back so that I could head upstairs to calm her down, but Hotch pushed his hand out flat, ordering me to stay and offering that he could handle it. I smiled shortly at him. As he continued on his way up to Scarlet’s bedroom, I settled back in my seat and picked up my glass of wine. Emily eyed me as she finished her dinner. She pushed the plate further up on the table so that she could lean forward. I watched her carefully.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you, too.”

She shook her head. “No. I mean, I really missed you, Y/N. It killed me every day to know that you didn’t know the truth, and that you named your little girl after me because you thought that I was—”

“I don’t regret it, Em.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re still one of my best friends.”

“Even after everything I did?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Hotch’s footsteps echoed through the house as he came back downstairs—a lot slower than the way he had gone up. I turned to see him coming into the living room, carrying Scarlet who was quietly fussing in his arms. He stepped to sit down, but Emily stopped him in his tracks with a question we hadn’t anticipated.

“Can I hold her?”

Hotch hesitated for a second, watching me, trying to gauge if I was at all opposed to the idea. I, of course, didn’t have any qualms with it. So, Hotch carefully handed Scarlet over.

“She’s going to be hard to chase around when she’s older,” Emily said while playing with Scarlet’s kicking feet. “She loves to squirm now… Imagine what she’ll be like when she’s on her feet.”

Hotch let out an exhausted chuckle. “Yeah. We were joking earlier that she’ll be a track star.”

Emily nodded.

Hotch threw his arm around the back of my seat as I leaned forward to keep eating. “Morgan’ll get to chase her around when she’s little, though. He’s always insisted, so we’re going to indulge him.”

“I’ll chip in on that.”

“Yeah?” I questioned.

She nodded. “Of course.”

I leaned back in my seat and put a comforting, innocent hand on Hotch’s thigh. He moved his hand from holding the back of my chair to resting on my far shoulder so that he could pull me close, tucking me under his arm and against his chest.

“You know,” I began slowly and carefully, trying to change the conversation as smoothly as possible, “she technically doesn’t have a godmother.”

Emily cocked a brow at us. “What?”

“Well, when she was born, we knew that we wanted Morgan to be her godfather, but her godmother… Well, she was gone before we got to ask if she wanted to be Scarlet’s godmother. So, we left the spot officially open, but, technically, I suppose, Jessica was her godmother.”

“’Was’?”

“You’re back now, so…”

Her jaw dropped somewhat. “You’re kidding.” I shook my head, then waited as she looked down at Scarlet. “Me?” She looked back up at me. “Are you… Are you sure?”

I nodded. “It was the original plan, so we might as well make it official now.”

Scarlet yawned and stretched in her sleep. Emily laughed down at her, making sure that she wasn’t loud enough to wake her. When she started snoring, however, Hotch slid his arm off of me, stood, and went to take Scarlet back so that he could take her back upstairs.

Since dinner was done, Emily helped me collect the dishes and take them to the kitchen, but at that point, I decided to kick her out. There was no way in hell she was going to help me clean up when she was a guest in our own home. Besides, Hotch and I had the next few days off, which meant we could afford to stay up late and sleep in tomorrow; but Emily, on the other hand, still had to be up bright and early in the morning in order to get to work on time. So, it was time for her to leave. Hotch and I ushered her to the door, insisting that if she ever needed anything, she could come to us, and she returned the favor with a bright smile while slipping into her coat.

“Good luck with Jack,” she said.

We smiled and thanked her, then Hotch opened the door for her. As she stepped outside and started towards her car, Hotch snaked his arm around my waist, and we both waved goodbye to her until she was in her car and driving around the corner. Hotch kissed my cheek and closed the door.

“Leave the dishes,” he pleaded against my skin.

I tucked into his side even more, a physical reaction to how desperate I suddenly felt for him. “You have to talk to Jack, baby…”

He turned and his hands started wandering up and down my sides, slowly feeling me up. “I know,” he pouted, “but afterwards—”

“You have three days ahead of you to do whatever you want with me.” I escaped his arms before things could progress out of control. “Go talk to your son.”

He squinted at me. “I’m counting this.”

“Counting?”

“As a bratty act.”

My eyes widened. “No, wait, that’s not—”

“Fair?” He smirked and towered over me. “Too bad.” He kissed my nose before turning to head upstairs.

I waited a few moments, staring at the kitchen, debating if I should go and do them now or leave them and regret not doing them in the morning. But we didn’t have work. I could do them whenever… I could afford to just let them sit there overnight… Besides, I was curious as to what was going on with Jack, so parent instincts took over, and I decided to head upstairs to listen in on what Hotch had to say to him.

I tip-toed down the hallway, creeping around the floorboards that I learned had a tendency to squeak. Jack and Hotch were whispering in his bedroom, and the closer I got, the better I could hear them. Hotch was talking about something new he wanted to try out with Jack in order to connect with Haley. I peeked my head in to see what they were talking about, that was when I saw Hotch lighting a candle before handing it to Jack.

“This candle represents Mom…” Hotch explained, keeping a careful eye on the flame. “Whenever you feel like you want to talk to her— whatever it might be about, I want you to tell me so that I can come light this for you and you can talk to her through this candle.”

“Why, though?” Jack asked.

“Because I know how much you miss her. I miss her, too. Every day. And I know that I wish I could still talk to her sometimes, so I think that it would be good for us to do this.”

“But won’t it make you sad?”

Hotch’s shoulders fell. “Buddy, you could never make me sad. Every day, I wake up and I see you, and I’m reminded of the great job Mom did with you, and I’m very proud of you both. I just think that if we start doing this every now and again, Mom can help us.”

“Like with what?”

“Well,” Hotch shrugged, “you know, like, if you’re having a bad day, or something.”

“But I have Y/N.”

“I know you do, buddy; but sometimes it’s just nice to get some advice from your mom, right?” Hotch hesitated for a second while he sucked in a deep breath. “Mrs. McKee told me and Y/N today that Paul’s been mean to you. And we know that you didn’t want to tell us because you don’t want us to worry about you and you want to try to handle it on your own, but sometimes it’s good to talk about these things with someone— especially someone you love. Sometimes there are things that you don’t want to tell me or Y/N, and that’s fine, but you should tell someone, so maybe that someone should be your mom through this candle. Does that make sense?” Jack nodded. “Good…” Hotch brushed Jack’s hair back slightly. “Try something like this.” He leaned forward towards the candle in Jack’s hands and said, “Mom, look over Jack. Be there when he needs it. I love you.” He leaned away from the candle, “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Jack wiggled under his blankets as he tried to find a comfortable position to sit in again. When he was settled, Jack leaned towards the flame, just like his dad did, and he whispered, “Mom, look over Dad, Y/N, and Emily for me.” He was using his grown-up voice to sound more like his dad. “And don’t forget to tell Dad that I want that new Lego set for my birthday.”

I chuckled quietly from the doorway, but not loud enough for them to hear.

“Of course,” Hotch nodded, also chuckling. “Is that all?”

“And I love you.”

“Good job, buddy,” Hotch complimented after taking the candle from Jack. He blew the flame out and set it on Jack’s bedside table so that it would always be with him, no matter what. With one hand, Hotch blindly turned off the lamp beside him while kissing Jack’s forehead.

“Night, Dad.”

Hotch pushed himself to his feet, “Good night and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Can you ask Y/N to come tuck me in, too?”

“Yeah. Of course, I can.”

I heard Hotch walking out of the room, and before I could turn to dash down the hall to be less suspicious, he came out and caught me standing there. I giggled when his lips turned up into a smile. Before he could expose my eavesdropping, I grabbed his forearm, and I pulled him towards me and out of the doorway, pressing him against the wall so that Jack would never know we were still there.

“Were you snooping?” he whispered. I nodded and hid my face against his chest. “I think he’s going to be okay.”

“Me, too.” I hugged him tightly. “But now we have to get him that fucking Lego set.”

He let out a laugh that was a little too loud, forcing me to quickly cover his mouth and shush him. After a moment, he peeled my hand away. “You should go tuck him in.”

“You look up that Lego set, I’ll tuck him in.”

“Deal.” He kissed my lips before sneaking out of my arms and heading down the hallway to go get ready for bed in our room.

When he was out of sight, I purposefully stepped on one of the loud, creaking planks on the ground to let Jack know that I was approaching—and to trick him into thinking that I hadn’t been standing there the whole time. He was snuggled under his covers, watching the doorway eagerly for me. When he spotted me, he perked up, all excited to get a kiss and a hug goodnight. How did I get so damn lucky to have a kid like him?

“Oh, boy,” I groaned while sitting down on the edge of his mattress. I pouted and feigned exhaustion for him—not that it was hard to fake, to be honest. “What if I just…” I started falling forward until I crashed against his bed, purposefully taking up a lot of space compared to him. “I think I’ll just fall asleep here.” I rolled over somewhat and flailed my arms about to really get in his personal space.

“Mom!” he protested through a loud laugh. I started snoring loudly. “Dad! Help!” Still snoring and keeping my eyes screwed shut, I tapped my hand around aimlessly until I found his tickle spot and started going for it just to keep him quiet so that he wouldn’t wake up Scarlet in the next room. “Mom— please—” he begged through the giggles. I started snoring louder. Finally, the kid got smart by grabbing Red from his other side and started hitting me in the head with it.

“Ouch,” I said, stopping my attack on him just to rub my head. “Touché, Jack Hotchner. You win this round.” I pushed myself upright and moved back to the edge of the bed so that Jack could get settled again. “Yeah, I think this bed’s too small for me anyhow.” I smiled at the way he was still giggling while trying to catch his breath. “My little man,” I cooed, pulling the covers up to his chin, “I love you so much.”

He cuddled Red close to himself. “I love you, too, Mom.”

I leaned down to kiss his forehead. “My little superhero.” I sat up. “Should I be concerned about Paul? Do I need to go all Luke Skywalker on him?” I held my hands up like I was using a lightsaber to deflect a bunch of laser bullets. “’Cause I will.”

“That’s not how Luke—” Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Pinkie promise or I won’t believe you.” We held out our pinkies simultaneously before interlocking them tightly. I squinted at him. “Okay. Fine.” I kissed his hand quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Night, little man.” I released him and started making my way out of his bedroom.

“Night, Mom.”

I turned off his lights then slowly closed the door.

------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @alex--awesome--22​  @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​​ @absolutemarveltrash​​ @bshelley322​​ @rousethemouse​ @sunshinepower17​ @weexinling​​ @pettttyyyc​@ Braty-angel

[khaleesiofalicante]

La verdad no tengo mi traductor ahora, y este es el único otro idioma que se, entonces nos quedaremos con esto por hoy😂 ¡Hola! Espero que estés teniendo un buen día! Hagamos esto:

“But what if there are plums in his food?” Jace asked. “Who is going to remove them?” (Omg they are the sweetest 💙💙)

Both your children were kidnapped by some prince of hell, so I wouldn’t be too worried about that...

YES!! They are victims!!

Why is punching Donald Duck something he would definitely do?? 😂

My mind rn: Clace💙Clace💙Clace💙Clace...

Alec and Jace are the cutest!!!

The amount of therapy Selena is going to need if they get her back...

“It had to be the nice ones,” Alec complained. “The chaotic ones got left behind.” (Is just that they knew even they wouldn’t be able to handle them :))

That promise hurts like hell but I understand them tho

Best father-in-laws here

I expected this of Idris, but it is still a lot...

Forgot for a second Lexi was afraid of height

Magnus and Jace always kill me 😂😂 And the “You’re old".... Look who's talking Magnus...

It's the dark place!!! OMG

A little late to realize the steles aren't working but ok...

Michael!!

"Selena had never met a soul she had refused to help." THIS!! Like... Was she stupid? YES. But she didn't have bad intentions and it makes all of this way worse

“It’s the same girl we met. Six years ago.” SO SHE IS A GHOST?? OR WHAT??

"It’s Belial, actually. Welcome to Idris.” SHIT. I kinda knew this but still SHIT. WOW

Makes sense...

So he tricked her since she was 10?? WTF??

Yup. Belial is still the same idiot.

He killed ALL Cohort???

What other friends???

Selena must look great tho... But it's bad, yeah, definitely bad...

"You never possessed her body,” Uncle Magnus said slowly. “Only her consciousness.” (I mean it's still a lot alike soooo)

THIS ALSO MAKES SENSE!! Rafael died after Michael told Selena Alec couldn't go to Idris!!

"There is something wrong with his soul,” Fuck you. He is just too beautiful for you

Great plan! Still murder :)

Wait, wait, wait.... If he took ALL of their souls... They could bring ALL of them back, right???

Belial is shit. Don't you dare insult Lexi. "abnormal proclivities" is so funny for a reason?? And yesss Alec shot him!!

Jace will murder you before that happens

Nope. I draw the fucking line at Gigi!!

"She is controlling Idris!” REALLY? And here I thought plants were just nice to her...

“I’m sorry, love,” The way this is something Magnus would say😭😭

“Otherwise, Asmodeus will never let me hear the end of it.” Perks of having a creepy father...

Wait, how did Belial collected Rafael's soul? Was he not dead...before he took him??

"Unlike Magnus, this boy has no angel blood inside him. He is a demon through and through.” “I’ll show you what a demon can do,” (literal chills)

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Not Max...again...

Of course it was Zara Dearbitch.... 🙂

She doesn't even care for her people!! Wtf does she know about being Consul??

What kind of sick person lets a prince of hell possess her daughter?? That's low even for her!! Michael died😭😭 she deserved better!!!

“You missed,” Alec croaked out, grabbing the chair in front of him. "Shitty aim." (what I understood: fuck you, Zara)

She is such a drama queen. You don't matter enough for Alec to do that for you!!

"He kept his eyes closed and thought of his husband. Magnus. Stay with me. Magnus. Let me look at you. One last time" I SWEAR I'M NOT CRYING 😭😭

SHE TOLD BELIAL ABOUT RAFE!! You are sooo dead dude

"He was supposed to hear Rafael speak in soft Spanish. He was supposed to hear Max let out an inappropriate swear. He was supposed to hear Magnus say Alexander" No, no, no, no. Please no!!!

“Then don’t look,” Alec said as he pulled the arrow from his chest and sank it into her neck. Zara Dearborn died, looking at his face and choking on her own blood. (you are the only bitch in this house I respect. Wow. Just wow. She really deserved it. Finally)

Oh, shit. He was trying to say no!!

I don't like the sound of "dearest" anymore >:(

“Jokes on you,” Max spat. “I like being choked.” (oh my god😂😂 I have learned not to take water while reading this cause I almost died lmaoo 🤣😂)

Fucking depletion indeed

Jokes on the people who mocked Max!!

"A prince of hell in the form of a child. This shit was fucking creepy." RIGHT?? CREEPY AF

I. Love. Max

The souls!!!

"The water rushed towards him, the same way his magic did." OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

What is happening??? Like.. He is controlling the thunderstorm and that makes sense but why is he controlling Lake Lyn???

"So, he screamed with everything he had inside him." Everybody go home (except Gabriel) This mental image cleared my skin. Cured my anxiety. Made me immortal so I can pass it down generations-

What was that?? I have so many questions??? Just Max... Wow. Max pulled an Avatar right there

Amé el capítulo💙 ¡Adiós! Espero que tengas un buen fin de semana! Y que no intentes matar a más personajes :)

YES SPANISH YESSSSSSSSS.

your meme references in between give me life. and I loooove how even amidst all this chaos, you managed to simp for Gabriel (btw we will see them in the next chapter....)

Wishing you an amazing weekend too! Say hi to Raziel from me 💙

[ladyhaesoo]

hotel blue moon

"There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

“Which one do you think I am?"

part 2 | read on page (not for the mobile app, but prettier)

There were a lot of things Moonyoung did not enjoy doing. Smiling unnecessarily. Being touched. Having to censor her books for the general public when their intended audience had no problems with her content. Meeting with obnoxious directors of large hospital chains that took advantage of people's suffering to make billions while looking like great philanthropists.

Ham and Gam hospitals hosted the largest paediatric wards in all of South Korea, with the country's best (highest paid, inflated, overconfident) paediatric doctors and surgeons on their staff. The ugly posters of smiling doctors (couldn't they have hired models?) and smiling children with assorted bullshit statistics stared at her as she sat there, doing one thing she hated so she wouldn't have to do another thing that she, unfortunately, hated more.

The earliest reviews of Zombie Kid were not looking good. Sangin was crying or yelling every time he spoke to her. The art was too gruesome, the story was too violent—of course it was too violent for the timid reviewers that read it from the safety of newspaper positions that afforded them the right to have no critical thinking whatsoever. Themes? Metaphors? These were the people who ate Cinderella up and pretended no feet were harmed in the making of this fairytale.

Still, she had a fanbase. Her books would sell, and, per Sangin, if she went to a hospital and read her books to children who needed money and medicine and possibly new organs, everyone would clap about her good deeds and forget all about the child that ate his mother.

If that had been all, Moonyoung wouldn't have minded. She liked readings; the terrorised but delighted little eyes staring up at her, eating up every word, learning something that a good many adults would never understand. The reading of this book did not have nearly as much drama as she would like, and any more cannibalism-based artwork had been ruled out, but it was still a good read. She made chewing noises as she read, and the children were delighted.

But it was not all.

And the truly generous Ham Kojeon had then had the audacity to postpone their meeting.

Moonyoung had nearly turned around and walked for the stairs, but Sangin was getting scarily fast at keeping up with her; his arm had popped up in her way before she could take a step down, and he'd dodged when she'd gone for her purse, then said something and gone to argue with the secretary.

"The director's been called into an urgent meeting," the secretary had told Sangin half an hour ago. "But the director has arranged snacks for you in the waiting room."

The waiting room in question surrounded the director's office, separated by frosted windows that gave a nice view into the room itself. Nothing was clear, but she could just about make out a pair of nice broad shoulders walking around the room. "Oh my," she said when the shoulders visibly walked around the desk to stare down at where the director was presumably sitting. "Has he delayed us to meet with a personal guest? How impolite."

Sangin glared at her. On the other side, his makeshift assistant giggled into her folder.

"Well, maybe I should go join them. Better view from inside. I deserve some entertainment too if he's going to keep me waiting."

Sangin hissed something about the people listening, even though it was just them and the director's secretary. Moonyoung rolled her eyes and turned away. Sometimes—just sometimes—she almost wished she valued her creative autonomy less than she did.

She shifted to relieving her frustration with all of this by grinding the metal heel of her boot into the metal leg of the chair and enjoying Sangin wincing every time she did it. The trick to something like that was variation. A few seconds of relief meant he wasn't expecting it when—

A thin distant alarm bell began to peal throughout the building, and Moonyoung laughed. "Can this day get any worse?"

Sangin groaned. "Wait a minute, let me go find out what's happened. Don't go anywhere!" he commanded, then gave the art director a look that said make sure she doesn't go anywhere. Then he ran off, presumably to interrogate someone poorly.

Moonyoung gave it a second, then got up and left. "Ms. Ko!" Poor little Seungjae called, but didn't make to follow. Moonyoung ignored her and went down the stairs. If nothing else, she needed a smoke break, especially if she was really expected to shake hands with Ham Kojeon after this.

She was halfway down the stairs when she saw it; a man in a patient's uniform dragging a child into what looked like a supplies closet. She followed at some distance, eyes narrowing, mind whirring uncomfortably. The girl was crying, but the alarm bells were loud enough on this floor that she wasn't audible over them—was that smoke she smelled? Had the man taken advantage of the fire, or had he started it?

When she slipped into the still-open closet door, the man was on his knees in front of the sobbing girl. "I'm your father!" he insisted. "I'm really your father! Why are you crying?"

"My father's dead!" the girl was repeating, eyes screwed shut, "You're not my father!"

"Listen to Daddy! I'm not dead! We both have to go together, do you hear me? Children can't live alone without their parents, that's why we both have to go at the same time!"

Moonyoung clicked her tongue. "What is this? Some kind of personality disorder? Delusions? I didn't realise it was that kind of hospital." She did hope the contempt came through. It worked; the man dropped the girl's arms, and turned to glare at her.

"Who the hell are you?" the man's voice faded between ordinary and not-quite-ordinary. Moonyoung frowned despite herself as his face seemed to shudder into something grotesque for a second—but when she blinked, it was just a grey-haired man with yellowing teeth. "This is between me and my daughter! Stay out of this!"

"She said she isn't your daughter," Moonyoung said. "If you want to die, die alone. If you want to live, don't steal others' children."

The man scrambled off his feet and came towards her. "Do you want to die? What the hell do you know? This is my daughter, and I'll do whatever the hell I like."

"Hearing problem?" she yelled, making an exaggerated gesture towards her ear. "I said, she—"

The man lunged towards her, and she slammed the hard end of her purse into his face, knocking him clean to the ground. The purse flew open, and her knife—too pretty for this place, with its carved handle and its surgical sharp tip—flew out of it to land somewhere beyond the man's hand.

He reared towards it, but he was on the ground, she was faster, and she stamped on his hand, keeping him from reaching the knife, and kicked it out of the way but somehow the man was up again. He jumped, and reached for her throat, grabbing her in a violent choke and banging her head onto the tile. A storage shelf crashed to the ground somewhere behind him. Her legs froze. The hands on her throat went from warm to cool to warm to cool to warm. "Die! Die! Why won't you just die!" a familiar face screamed. Hair floated in her vision, and the face blurred out.

The pressure on her throat lifted abruptly. She grabbed at her throat, air coming in way too fast, the imprint of cold—cold? warm—no—they had been cold, hadn't they?—hands around her throat still stinging, along with every uncomfortable nightmare they drew up.

When her vision re-adjusted, the man was wrestling with another man in a waistcoat. Consciousness returned. She was in Ham and Gam hospital. She was awake. She was an adult. And a piece of shit had just—fucking—strangled her—

She got to her feet and grabbed the knife.

Waistcoat had won, but that didn't help her. "I'll kill you all! All of you!" the man was shouting, even on the ground and clearly restrained by something. Her ears were still buzzing; the man's voice phased again, into something wrong, before it came back.

She lifted her arm, and brought the knife down—

It was a sharp knife. Moonyoung always ate her steak rare, red and raw enough to bleed if she cut into it too quickly—tough enough that no dull knife would cut through cleanly, without ugly ragged edges. This knife cut through her meat perfectly, even with little pressure. That was why she liked it.

It sliced cleanly through flesh, catching on bone too tough for it. She felt the fingers that closed around the knife in her own grip on it, surprisingly sensory. Blood dripped down a forearm and stained the cuff of a sleeve.

Waistcoat stared at her, and she stared back.

"I'd appreciate if you stayed out of this," she said.

The man with the knife currently embedded in his palm said, "Do you know how difficult it is to get stains out of a suit like this?"

"Are you with the hospital?" she asked. "There's a vermin infestation. I was just helping." she glanced down at the man whose arms were bound behind his back —by what, she couldn't see. He started shouting again as he realised her meaning, then promptly fainted, mid-word. She frowned, about to say something, when Waistcoat wrenched the knife from her palm, wringing his arm like a dog shaking water out of its fur. Little drops of blood landed around her heels. He began to wrap a bright silk handkerchief around the knife.

Moonyoung scoffed. "What, is the knife hurt? Why are you wrapping that around the knife?"

He didn't respond. She opened her palm in front of him. He looked up—finally. "Your hand," she said, "not the knife."

Waistcoat smiled. "Haven't you injured me enough right now?" he asked, and slipped the bandaged knife into his pocket.

"That's mine. "

"You tried to kill someone with it," he said.

She shrugged. "If he's Non-Compos Mentis, I can say I acted in self-defense. I was only going to give him a small cut with the knife, but you overreacted and injured yourself," she said, placing her unnerving smile on her lips. The man's lips quirked up, too—he had little dimples at the very corners, which made the smile far too cheerful for his otherwise unsmiling face.

"It landed in my palm, so it's mine now," he said, then cocked his head. "That was a lot of power for a small cut."

She smiled, and grabbed a handkerchief from her own purse. "There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die," she said, grabbing his palm—apparently, she hadn’t injured him enough just yet. She began to wrap that around his hand, and it stained the red immediately, creating a deep blush in the center—blood in blood. "And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware." She tugged the handkerchief shut, smiling when he shuddered. "Which one do you think I am?"

Waistcoat's smile widened. He looked to the unconscious man on the ground, then to his hand, and then to her. "Just a clueless civilian,” he said, after she had stabbed him clean through the palm, held hard enough that the steak knife would go through skin and artery easier than meat. “But which one do you think I am?"