#((I’ll try to reply to asks later I need to save up spoons to take a friend out later))

[brrnedoutbrrista]

((Update I’m employed so now I’m feeling MUCH better))

[zorobff]

dress up. (toji fushiguro x f!reader)

synopsis: in an attempt to make some memories, you come up with the idea of a family costume for this year’s halloween. toji and megumi might need a little convincing, though…

a/n: first fic in like a year and first time writing for my babygirl toji :3

word count: 1.1k

toji carelessly lets himself fall next to you, his sheer body weight causing the couch to jolt slightly. he nods at your phone. “whatcha looking at?”

“just some costumes. halloween’s coming up and—”

a smile creeps up on toji’s face before you can get another word out. “you shoulda asked me first, baby. i got a few good ideas. patient and nurse could work, i love a woman in uniform—my woman in uniform. cop and prisoner, too. would give us a good excuse to finally buy some handcuffs.” he winks.

“sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you tease. “but unfortunately, none of those are gonna work.”

toji’s face falls ever so slightly and you have to hold back a laugh at seeing a grown man pout.

“had you let me finish, you’d know i want to do a family costume.”

“baby, c’mon,” he groans, rubbing his face. “i never go all out f’ halloween, you know that.”

you arch a brow. “you seemed eager a few seconds ago.”

he huffs. “that was different.”

“mhm, sure,” you reply, sarcastically. “i don’t mind suggestions, just a little more family friendly and less… porn-y.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he deadpans.

you smack his bicep. “save the roleplaying for later. i mean, just look at how cute these are.”

you hand him your phone and he reluctantly takes it. he’s seen this app before; pinterest, he believes it’s called. his eyes roam over the page for a moment, seeing various families of three dressed in an array of costumes. rock, paper and scissors. ketchup, mustard and a hot dog. fork, knife, and spoon.

he hands you back your phone when he decides he’s seen enough. “baby, those are humiliating.”

“no they’re not! they’re fun.” you snatch the device back, furiously scrolling. “besides, we’re making memories for megumi to look back on when he’s older.”

“have you met the little twerp? he’s practically a 70 year old man in the body of a second grader.” toji shakes his head with a smile. “you sure he’d even wanna do this?”

“we should at least ask him. then he can’t say we never tried.”

toji’s eyes soften; you really were giving this your all. your dedication to making megumi’s childhood a happy and healthy one was something that tugged at his heart strings; especially since toji had never received that kind of affection in his youth. and yet, here was a beautiful woman he was privileged to call his wife trying her best to break that generational curse. he truly was a lucky man.

“megumi!” shouts toji, suddenly determined to make this family costume work. “get in here!”

megumi’s little voice comes back muffled from his upstairs bedroom. “wait, i’m almost done with this level!”

“tch, he’s glued to that damn thing. what’s it called? a switch?” toji shakes his head and mumbles, “should’ve never let you buy it f’ him.”

“don’t be jealous,” you tease. “if you’re good, i’ll get you one for christmas too.”

toji smirks. “actually, i wanted to ask for a special gift this year.”

“oh yeah? what’s that?”

“y’know how megumi’s been askin’ for a sibling—”

you shove his shoulder and he laughs.

toji takes that as his cue to leave and talk to megumi, standing from the couch with an exaggerated groan. (you always made fun of him for it, claiming that it was such an old man thing to do. he always refuted that you knew what you were getting into when you married someone his age.)

he heads upstairs, delivering a firm knock when he reaches megumi’s door. “get out here, kiddo. need to talk to ya real quick.”

he hears a groan then the shuffling of feet. the door swings open and there stands his son, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about having to pause his game.

“sheesh, kid,” toji huffs. “don’t make that face, starting to look like your old man.”

“what is it, dad?” he sighs in exasperation.

“we’re dressing up for halloween this year. as a family.”

that catches the eight year old off guard. “what? why?”

“for the memories or somethin’.”

“i don’t really wanna…” megumi trails off.

toji scratches the back of his head. “i hear ya. but it’ll make your mom real happy so we’re doin’ it.”

megumi purses his lips. “what’s the costume?”

“i dunno. we can’t seem t’ decide. got any ideas?”

“hmmm… i kinda wanted to be michael meyers this year.”

“it’s a group costume, megumi, ya can’t just— hang on, michael meyers? how the hell do you know about him?”

megumi shrugs as if he doesn’t see the issue. “i saw the movie at uncle shiu’s house once.”

toji makes a mental note to never shiu babysit megumi again. or at the very least, go over what movies a second grader is allowed to watch.

toji clears his throat. “well, forget you ever saw it. and don’t tell your mother, got it?”

megumi nods.

“good. erm… any other ideas?”

there’s a silence between the two.

“c’mon, kid, think of something. if not, your mom’s gonna make us dress up as condiments or silverware or somethin’ stupid.”

megumi groans, clearly fed up with the conversation. “can i just go back to playing super mario bros?”

it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in toji’s mind. “you like those guys?”

megumi nods slowly. “yeah… why?”

“you wanna be one of ‘em for halloween?”

megumi’s face lights up. “really? can i be luigi?”

toji grins, satisfied with his reaction. “don’t see why not.”

“cool! does that mean you’ll be mario?”

his dad chuckles. “guess so.”

“ooh and mom could be princess peach!”

“that’s the, uh… pink one, right?”

megumi giggles at his father’s obliviousness, nodding.

“works out then. i’ll go tell your mama.” he ruffles his son’s tar black hair. “thanks, megs. gonna make her day.”

megumi flashes a toothy grin then retreats back into his room.

when toji returns to the living room with a smug smile and pep in his step, you take notice.

“what’s with you?” you inquire.

“oh, nothin’. just got megumi to agree on a family costume, that’s all.”

you eye your husband with interest. “oh really?”

“you’re welcome, princess. speaking of which, you’re gonna need a pink dress and crown.”

“well, now i’m really curious.”

“you know that little game he likes? the one with the plumber brothers—” before he can even finish, you shoot up from your comfortable position.

“how didn’t i think of that sooner? it’s perfect!”

“megs seemed pretty excited about it too. knew exactly which character he wanted to be and everythin’.”

you nearly melt. “that’s all what i wanted. i’ll order the costumes right away.” you lean over to pepper his face in kisses. “thank you so much, toji.”

he grunts, though he’s smiling so hard his scar tilts upwards. “yeah, yeah. how about you thank me with that christmas present i was talkin’ about earlier?”

you pull away from him and grin. “nice try.”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 111: Smile

"Auror Potter! Auror Potter!" the wizarding press started shouting the instant the doors to the Wizengamot opened following the trial, and Draco watched as Harry's shoulders stiffened. "Smile for the cameras!" one witch shouted.

"Tell us about the case, Auror Potter!"

"How did you catch Hollister?"

"What's the status on your relationship with Ginny Weasley?"

"Smile!"

He watched as Harry carefully put on a mask of indifference, making his face pleasant and amiable in the way that only someone who has spent years in the public eye is able to do.

Harry held up a hand, "Thank you for your interest in this case. We're asking that you respect the Griffiths Family's privacy as they go through the aftermath of this harrowing ordeal. Alden Hollister has been brought to justice; I will leave it to the court reporter to give you more of the details."

The reporters started in shouting at him once more, asking all sorts of questions both professional and personal.

"Sorry," he said, "If you'll excuse us please. Auror Malfoy and I have had a very difficult few days and we're long overdue for some rest," he added, chuckling amiably at them. "Thank you," he nodded. "Good night."

Without waiting for anything else, Draco reached out and grasped Harry's elbow and apparated them out of there and back to the apparition point just outside the Ministry. They had to apparate home separately, Merlin knew the press would have a field day if they knew the full truth about the nature of their relationship.

(Read more below the cut)

Members of the press were waiting by that apparation point as well, Draco watched a tremor of unease sluice up Harry's back. He was sure that he wouldn't have suspected a thing if not for how long he had been watching Harry Potter. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Harry better than Harry knew himself.

Harry held up a hand but Draco beat him to the punch this time. "Move," he snapped, pushing his way through the press but keeping Harry half a step ahead of him so they couldn't suck him in. "Auror Potter's already given an interview to your insipid colleagues. The DMLE and the Wizengamot will be issuing official statements within the hour, I suggest you wait for them."

They were followed into the lobby but fortunately the reporters couldn't come any further and within a few moments they were ensconced in the relative safety of the elevator.

Once they got inside, Harry leaned back against the back wall and let his head fall foward while Draco hit the button to their floor before joining him.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

"Don't mention it," Draco replied, reaching across the gap between them and hooking their pinkies together.

He released his finger the floor before theirs and stepped away, "What do you still have to do?" he asked.

"You're submitting the report, right?"

Draco nodded, "It's just about done. I'll need a few minutes to finish."

"I just have to straighten up my desk, then. I'll head home first."

The elevator dinged and the door opened onto their floor, Draco gave Harry a little nod and they stepped out.

Harry was done straightening his desk and putting things away in ten minutes and he stood and stretched before patting Draco congenially on the shoulder. "Nice work, Malfoy," he said. "I'll see you in two days. Enjoy your couple of days of recovery," he added.

"Thanks, Potter," he replied. "You, too."

He didn't let himself watch Harry leave, didn't let himself look at his retreating form to analyze what he was feeling and thinking. No, he went back to finishing his report and after another fifteen minutes he was done as well. He dropped the report in Robbard's mailbox and headed for the apparition point, knowing that Harry would have used the floo network to avoid as many reporters as possible.

Fortunately, the reporters left him alone for the most part and he reached the apparation point without incident. A heartbeat later he was standing in their entry way, breathing in the comforting scent of home, the warmth seeping into his bones and washing away all of the tension and stress.

He kicked off his shoes, tucked his bag into the closet, and hung up his cloak before turning and heading into the kitchen. Harry was standing over the hob, cooking chicken tikka masala by the smell of it, and that told Draco everything his needed to know about how draining this case had been on Harry.

Harry only cooked after a case when he was especially frustrated, when he was desperate to care for someone, to fix the hurts he was able to, to heal. He ached with how much he loved the other man.

"Hey," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder. "Smells good."

Harry leaned into him, "Good," he replied, setting the wooden spoon down and turning his head to press a quick kiss to Draco's lips. "How are you?" he asked softly.

"Tired," Draco replied honestly.

Harry hummed and turned back to his rice, pulling down the jar of jasmine and adding some. "Me too."

"I'm going to open a bottle of wine," he said, pressing a kiss to Harry's shoulder. "White okay?"

"Sure," the other man replied, giving him a worn, weary smile.

Draco opened the wine and set the table, getting everything ready while Harry finished preparing the food.

"Dinner's ready," Harry said, bringing over the rice and chicken tikka masala, and a batch of naan that he'd had under stasis for a moment like this.

"Thanks," Draco replied and the first part of dinner was quiet, companionable, like it always was.

Then, once Harry was almost done with his first helping he started to talk. "Godric, I hate those vultures," he grumbled before taking a sip of his wine. "Can you imagine how heartless you have to be to stand outside of a court to ambush someone after the kind of case we just finished?"

"They're awful," Draco agreed.

"I always wish I could tell them to fuck off," he added, shaking his head.

"What a sight that would be," he said with a laugh. "I'd give my entire vault at Gringotts to see it. Can you imagine their faces?"

Harry laughed too, "It sure would be something." But then after a moment he said, "What's happened to me?"

"What?" Draco asked, panic spearing through his chest. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that," he said, soothingly. "Sorry. It's just," he paused as though he was trying to put his thoughts in order. "When I was seventeen I would have told them to piss off in an instant. I would have told them that they were heartless, soulless leeches without hesitation."

"You've just learned to be more diplomatic," Draco replied, tearing off another piece of naan to soak up more of the tikka masala.

"But why?" Harry asked. "I'm sick of it. It's exhausting."

Draco nodded, "I don't doubt it. But I'm sure even you would get in trouble for telling off the press like that. You are the Ministry's Golden Boy, after all. You've got quite an image to uphold."

"Why do we do this job, Draco?" he asked suddenly.

Draco blinked, their conversations after a case usually centered around the case itself and Harry's guilt for not being fast enough, clever enough, etc. "Well, when we started, you wanted to catch bad guys, save people, the works. And I wanted to redeem myself, do some good for once, and piss off my father."

Harry swallowed down the remainder of his glass of wine, "I hate it."

"What?"

"Being an Auror," he said. "The only time I'm ever happy is when I'm with you, the only time I feel like I'm actually me is when I'm with you." He shook his head, "I don't know how I became this person. How I became someone who could put on a fake smile and be polite to people who are such arse holes."

"What are you saying?"

He blew out a breath, "I want to stop." Running his fingers through his hair he said, "I don't want to do this anymore."

"Alright," Draco said, covering Harry's hand with his own. "We'll quit tomorrow."

"We?" he asked.

He nodded, "Ninety percent of the reason that I am still an auror is to keep an eye on you."

Harry leaned in to kiss him, both of them smiling so widely that it made kissing rather difficult. "What'll we do?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, "Let's not rush into anything."

"Alright," Harry agreed, bringing Draco's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his wrist. "I'm sure whatever we decide on will be good, as long as we're together."

"I love you," Draco murmured.

Harry smiled and squeezed his hand, "I love you, too."

And even though he didn't quite know what tomorrow would bring, he knew that everything would be okay.

---------

Day 110: Rough | Day 112: Intimacy

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things between them deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Spencer slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the morning light seeping in through the curtains. Jo was resting peacefully on his lap just like how they were during the movie. Unexpectedly however, Y/N was leant up against his shoulder, softly breathing. Spencer wished he could stay like this forever, this is how it should have always been. But then, he noticed the time on his watch and realized it was Monday morning.

Jo was tightly clinging on to his right arm so he slowly lifted his left hand and nudged you slightly. You mumbled and dug yourself further into the crook of his neck, clearly not awake yet.

“Y/N, it’s Monday and it’s 7:30 in the morning,” he whispered.

Your eyes shot open and you quickly distanced yourself from him.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-well you know,” you gestured to his shoulder.

“Josephine, baby, you need to get up now. Mommy forgot to set an alarm for school,” you gently shook the kid awake.

You lifted Jo up as she was beginning to wake and carried her upstairs to dress her.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Spencer called out.

“Could you pack her lunch? Give her a juice box, a fruit cup, a bag of cheez-it’s, and a PB&J please,” you shouted back.

Spencer ran to the kitchen, grabbing the empty dinosaur lunch box from Jo’s backpack. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer to keep the lunch box cool inside, putting in a fruit punch juice box and a diced peaches fruit cup with a spoon. He poured some cheez-it’s into a ziploc bag and sealed it shut. Then, Spencer located the peanut butter in the cupboards, slathering it on to the other slice of bread.

“Crust on or cut off?” he yelled upstairs.

“On is fine! Thank you!” you replied as you finished brushing Jo’s hair, starting to head downstairs.

“Jo, grab your lunch box from Spencer and thank him for making you lunch, put it in your backpack, and grab a pop-tart for the road. Mommy just needs to grab her work bag,” you said, putting on a tan blazer and pinning your hair back with bobby pins.

Jo nodded and thanked Spencer, grabbing a strawberry frosted pop-tart and running out the front door with her backpack.

“You know pop-tarts have only three grams of protein but are high in refined carbs like high fructose corn syrup. Studies show they actually can make you hungrier,” Spencer stated.

He wasn’t intending to take a jab at Y/N’s choice of breakfast for Jo this morning but you certainly took it that way.

“I’m sorry, have you raised a kid?” you asked sarcastically.

“No but who’s fault is that?” he snapped back, immediately regretting it.

Your hands fell from where they were adjusting your hair in the mirror. You did not look at him or say a single word as you collected your purse and laptop and began to walk to the door.

“Y/N, wait! I didn’t mean that,” he pleaded.

You inhaled and turned around.

“You don’t get to sit on your high horse and act like I didn’t do you a favor, Spencer,” you clenched your jaw.

“A FAVOR?” he asked incredulously, “You call missing six years of my daughter’s life a favor?”

“You’re seriously going to look me in the eye and tell me that if I called you seven years ago saying I was pregnant, you would have quit the FBI and moved back,” you questioned.

“I-”

“Even if you did quit, you would have ended up resenting us for not getting to fulfill your dreams so yeah I did you a favor.”

“So you think our daughter is some massive burden that you ‘took the bullet’ on? If you truly think that, then maybe I’ll just fight you for custody.”

“I was fully aware of my options back then. I chose to have Jo because she was my dream. But she clearly wasn’t yours because you left me the second you had something better lined up. And I’d like to see you fucking try to fight for custody, news flash! Your name isn’t on the birth certificate. You have no legal rights over Jo. But how dare you even threaten to take my child away from me over a fucking pop-tart, you asshole,” you stormed out the house, slamming the front door behind you.

The feeling in Spencer’s chest now the exact opposite of when he woke up this morning.

-

Please call me. I’m sorry, I was out of line.

You had a multitude of missed calls and texts from Spencer that you didn’t reply to but that was the first one he sent. One of them said he was being called away on a case so luckily he wasn’t showing up at your door every day.

It was Saturday night and Jo had fallen asleep on the couch watching Tom & Jerry cartoons. You clicked the TV off and carried her up the stairs. You tucked her under her dinosaur comforter and kissed her forehead.

“Bedtime story, Mommy,” she mumbled.

“Okay, which one?” you asked, looking at the bookshelf.

“Caltechia,” she said, opening her eyes slightly.

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“Spencer told it to me. You know the one with the goofy knight that loves the elegant queen and pretty princess of Caltechia,” Jo stated matter-of-factly.

You smiled softly, “I’m sorry, Baby J, I don’t know how that one ends. Maybe Spencer can finish it for you some day. How about The Very Hungry Caterpillar instead?”

She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut once again as you began to read.

-

After flicking the lights off and gently shutting Jo’s door, you returned downstairs to grade some papers.

You got through about five when there was a soft hesitant knock on the door. You sighed, closing your laptop. Your TV was on as background noise and the lights in the living room were on so it was obvious you were home and still awake. You already knew who it was without even looking.

You opened the door slightly to see Spencer standing there with swollen puffy eyes and nervous fidgety hands.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

You opened the door all the way and plopped yourself back down on the couch.

“Jo is sleeping so if you came here to yell at me again, save it,” you huffed.

“No, I came here to apologize. I wasn’t trying to criticize your parenting. I was just stating a random fact I read, it was stupid. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I escalated the argument instead of trying to defuse it,” he spoke softly.

“I’m sorry too. I should have known that it was just another statistic. Some things never change,” you laughed softly.

“But Y/N, you knew that I had a father that abandoned me and my worst fear was becoming him and you still kept Jo from me anyways,” he whispered with watery eyes.

“You know how you claimed you broke up with me to protect me? I thought keeping Jo from you so you didn’t have to make that decision was kind of like protecting you. You can’t abandon a child you didn’t know existed.”

“Well, I know about her now and I’m not abandoning her. I don’t want to. Can you please let me be her dad and not just her father?” he pleaded, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“We can tell her at breakfast in the morning and you can come with us to the park tomorrow. I guess we could work out some days that you can drop her off at school or pick her up and keep her for dinner. But she sleeps here, I’m not budging on that for now. She needs some consistency if we are going to spring this on her,” you replied.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you,” he excitedly whisper-shouted.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Spencer pulled you in for a hug. He soon realized when you tensed in his arms.

“Oh-uh I’m sorry,” he stuttered, pulling his arms back, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

He awkwardly waved as he made his way to the door.

“Good night, Spencer.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You pulled back the window curtain a little to watch Spencer walk out of your driveway. He had his back turned to you but you saw him pump his fist in the air and jump up and down a few times before collecting himself and beginning to walk away with a smile on his face. You laughed to yourself. Still the same old goofy Spencer.

[alwaysmarveling]

When You Try Your Best but You Don’t Succeed...

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When your mission goes wrong, Nat’s there to help

“What’s up, Rogers? How’s my girl?” Nat smirked, talking to her friend and coworker through the phone. The heavy sigh she heard on the other end caused her face to drop and her spine to straighten.

“We’re coming back, Nat.”

“Is everything okay? You weren’t supposed to be coming back for another week. Is Y/N okay? Is she hurt?”

“Physically, she’s fine. Just the normal cuts and bruises. Mentally… Nat, there were kids.”

“How many?” Natasha asked, her voice now unreadable.

“Ten. Eight of them made it, but… we couldn’t get to the last two. She tried, but the damage to the building was bad, and… she tried. I had to physically pull her out before she could get herself killed.” Natasha’s arm trembled slightly as she lowered herself down on the sofa in her room, listening carefully to every word coming through the phone’s speaker.

“When will you guys be back?”

“We’ll be back in about an hour. I think Y/N’s sleeping right now, but I’m not sure.”

“Okay,” the redhead nodded. “Thanks for letting me know. Steve,” Natasha paused, “how are you doing?”

“I’ll be okay. It hit her the hardest.” The woman nodded to no one in particular as she played with the end of her hair, her glance not quite meeting the floor.

“Alright. Take care of yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve teased. Natasha smirked as she hung up before returning her thoughts to your predicament. Your relationship with the spy was relatively new. The two of you had been together for just about three months now. Before that, you had been close friends, but emotions had never really been a huge part of your relationship. Nat knew you needed her now, though, and she’d do her best to be there for you.

---

“Hi, Steve.” Nat waved at the super soldier as he entered the compound’s living room. Steve gave her a small smile before retreating to his own room to freshen up.

“Hey, ba...” She took in your weary, blood-covered form, the smile she had put on for Steve quickly vanishing. Steve had told her you weren’t hurt, but she was not expecting you to be that bloody or that dirty.

“I’m fine, Nat,” you reassured her, giving her a weak smile. By the time you had finished speaking, she was already there, holding your hands.

“You don’t look fine,” she murmured, brushing a hand over your face before stopping to cup your cheek.

“One shower and I’ll be as good as new,” you tried again, your voice cracking on the last word. “I should go,” you whispered, dropping her hands and rushing out of the room before she could stop you.

---

“Y/N?” Natasha knocked at the door tentatively. “Are you okay?” You sniffed, wiping the tears that were making their way down your face.

“I’m fine,” you called out, turning off the water. How long had you been in the shower for?

“I, uh, I got dinner ready. If you’re hungry.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be out in 5 minutes,” you replied, towelling yourself off. You wanted nothing more than to stay in bed for the rest of the night, but your shower had already been suspiciously long, and you needed to prove to Natasha that you were okay. Well, you needed to make Natasha think that you were okay.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Natasha. You were just very aware of how new your relationship was. An invisible force was pushing—or more like shoving—you to let her hold you in her arms and tell you that everything would be okay, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries in your relationship. Taking a deep breath, you threw on a light t-shirt and shorts before meeting Natasha in the kitchen.

“Hey, I made your favorite,” Natasha announced as you padded into the room.

“Thanks, you’re the best.” You winced slightly at your response, not sounding quite as convincing as you would’ve liked.

“You sure you’re okay?” Natasha asked gently. You didn’t know about the phone call she’d had with Steve, and she wanted to give you the chance to tell her yourself.

“I’m fine. The mission was just tiring.” Natasha rubbed your arm comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we can just watch a movie tonight and cuddle?”

“Nat, I...” you didn’t know how to tell her that you wanted to be alone without sounding off; you never said no to cuddling with her. She tilted her head slightly when you didn’t continue. “Yeah,” you sighed, “that sounds great,” you agreed, spooning some of the food into your mouth.

“I’m glad you came back early, love. I missed-” You dropped the spoon at her first sentence.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this, Nat.”

“Babe, wait-” You didn’t turn around as you fled the room, not wanting her to see the tears that were streaming down your face.

---

“Y/N,” Natasha sighed. “Please let me in.” Natasha had waited 15 minutes before following you to your room. She put away the food she was sure you’d be asking for later, threw on some pajamas, took two bottles of water from the kitchen, and grabbed her laptop and one of the oversized sweatshirts in her closet for you. All she needed was for you to let her in.

“I’m sorry, Nat, I- I’m really tired, and I think I’m just going to go to bed,” you called through the door. You mentally smacked your forehead at how unconvincing that sounded, your sniffles obviously heard through the door.

“Y/N, please,” she responded softly. “We don’t even have to talk, just… please, let me in?” You sighed, wiping your eyes and smoothing back your hair, trying to make yourself at least a little more presentable. Since she was definitely aware that you were upset, the least you could do was not show her just how upset you were. But when you slowly opened the door and met Natasha’s worried gaze, you couldn’t help but break down. “It’s okay,” she murmured, closing the door softly behind her and wrapping her arms tightly around you. “I got you.” The two of you stayed like that for a while as you just enjoyed the feeling of being in her arms. Her scent and warmth kept you grounded, reminders of all the beauty in the world when you could only see the ugly. When your sobs quieted down, Natasha pushed you away slightly to get a good look at your face.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked softly.

“I- I don’t know,” you hiccuped. Your throat was dry and your voice cracked, but you weren’t focused on that. Nat was, though.

“That’s okay,” Natasha reassured you, squeezing your shoulders. “Here, put this on. And drink some water, okay? And I brought my laptop so we can watch your favorite movie.” You couldn’t tell if your heart warmed or sunk at her actions, and you stared at the sweatshirt and water bottle that she offered you. “Y/N?”

“I don’t deserve this,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes yet again. The redhead sighed, placing her things on the bed before taking your hands up in hers. She pressed her forehead against yours, forcing your eyes to meet her emerald orbs.

“Sweetheart, please listen to me. I know that you want to save everyone, we all do. None of us would be here if we didn’t. But the reality is that we can’t. No matter how perfect we are, how trained we are, or what powers we may or may not have, there’s always going to be people that we can’t save. We’ve known each other for quite some time, yeah?” You nodded slowly, still not meeting her eyes. “Then trust me when I tell you that you deserve this. Hell, you deserve so much more than this. You put 110% into everything that you do, and nobody doubts that for even a second. I wish everything that you did would work out perfectly, but it can’t. You have to forgive yourself for this. Please, believe me, love.” You didn’t respond for a moment, taking the time to wrangle up the billions of thoughts swirled around your head but vanished the second you tried to focus on any of them.

“They were kids, Nat. I tried so hard, I-” At that, you began to sob once more and allowed Natasha to pull you into her.

“I know,” your girlfriend shushed you, her heart breaking at the cracks in your voice. “You always try your hardest, and that’s something I admire so much about you. But listen to me. You saved eight of those kids. Because of you, that’s eight little girls and boys who get to go back home to their families and grow up to become amazing adults. You may feel like you failed now, but without you, none of those kids would get that opportunity. Not one of them. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said softly. “Thank you,” you mumbled, giving her one last squeeze before you let her go.

“You’re welcome,” your girlfriend smiled. “Now, put this on,” Natasha ordered, throwing the sweatshirt at you. When you cocked your head to the side, she smirked. “You didn’t think I was leaving you alone, did you? I said we were going to snuggle and watch a movie, and I meant it. Unless you don’t want to.” The crinkles around the corners of her eyes began to recede, her smirk faltering.

“I’d love to,” you responded, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You’re very sweet,” you complimented her as the two of you climbed into your bed.

“Only for you,” she whispered, winking at you. The spy pulled you in close to her side, pressing her lips to the top of your head before pulling the blankets tightly over the both of you. “That’s a nice goose egg you’ve got there,” she murmured, referencing the growing lump on your head. “Do you want me to get some ice for it?”

“I’m fine, Nat. Everything’s just superficial.” Natasha hummed, running her fingers gently over it.

“If you say so,” she said reluctantly. “I guess you’re still somewhat attractive with it.”

“Hey!” You smacked her across the stomach. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”

“I’m just kidding, babe. Very attractive. Makes you look less like a dork and more like a badass.”

“Oh, shut up and watch the movie,” you grumbled, pushing yourself further into your girlfriend’s torso.

“Nat?” you spoke up, the movie now halfway over.

“Yeah, hon?”

“Steve told you about the mission, didn’t he?” The redhead pulled her eyes away from the screen to look at you.

“Yeah, he did. Is that okay?” Her voice was steady, but her face was unsure and vulnerable. You paused, considering your answer.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you finally responded. “Although I need to tell that old man to get his wrinkly ass out of my business,” you said, your lips curving up slightly at the corners.

“He’s just looking out for you, babe. He loves you,” she teased, squeezing your cheek. The two of you fell silent for a moment, neither of you really paying attention to the various images flashing across the screen.

“Do you?” you asked softly, looking into Natasha’s green eyes.

“Always,” she whispered, leaning down to meet your lips.

“I love you, too,” you giggled, breaking the kiss.

“I love you more, you dork.”

“I thought I was a badass!” you whined, turning away as Natasha pecked your lips again.

“Mm, you are. My badass.” The two of you smiled at that, and you pulled Natasha’s head down to meet you in another kiss. The pain of losing those two kids was still there, and it would take some time before you were able to truly forgive yourself, but having Natasha with you made things a little bit easier.

[quillquiver]

and it’s good

DeanCas coda to 15x19: ‘Inherit the Hearth’

He hasn’t stopped praying.

From an empty world to one filled with people, Dean has gone to his knees every night—on the floor, the gravel, the dirt—and prayed. Head down. Face pressed to his knuckles. Dear Cas…

From each failed plan to their eventual, anti-climactic victory, Dean shares it all. And when it’s all over, when they wake up the morning after with no Jack, no Cas and no world to save, it’s bittersweet. Confusing. Like being released into the wild after living in a cage.

Where does he go from here? What does he do?

What does he want?

Sam doesn’t have a problem finding his own answers, but then again, he never has; he was the one with the life outside The Life: the college boy, the dreamer. Dean… Dean needs some time to adjust. Regroup. Grieve, maybe—whatever the hell that looks like. So, he serves himself a bottle of Jack, grabs a box of Pop Tarts, and makes his way to his recliner. First day of freedom? Dr. Sexy and sweet oblivion sound awesome.

“Hey, uh, what’re you—” Sam cuts himself off, skidding to a halt in the doorway of the Dean Cave. He’s got that pinched look on his face, the one that means: inevitable bitch face, concerned edition. Dean waves him off.

“Chilling out,” he mutters, taking a long pull from the bottle. “Figure I deserve a vacation.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “A vacation.”

“Yeah, genius. A vacation. You know, a little me time?” Dean takes another pull. “You got a problem with that?”

Sam shifts his weight. Frowns at the floor. It’s weird to see him like this; he’s so big, now, but that move is straight out of his teen years—when he’d been gangly and awkward and angry and unsure. He looks up, resolved, and Dean heaves an internal sigh. Whatever the fuck Sam is trying to do, he doesn’t want any part in it.

“What if you come with me?”

“Nope.”

“Dean—”

“Look, Sammy, we fought the big fight, we won, there ain’t nothing left to do,” Dean says reasonably, bitterly, turning back to the DVD menu. “So I don’t wanna go into town, or to the store, or wherever else you’re planning on gallivanting to today. I’m gonna watch my show, drown myself in booze and pass the fuck out, because that is what I’m owed. Capiche?”

“Eileen texted. I’m… I’m going to go get her.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks, how many times a heart can break. He clenches his jaw and swallows the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly. Allows himself a second—one second—of envy and jealousy before he slaps a smile on his face and nods. “Good,” he says. He means it. “You should.”

“So…” Sam trails off.

“So…” Dean echoes.

“…Come with.”

“Sam, I’m not gonna crash your romantic reunion okay? That’s weird.”

“Dean—”

“Sam.” And there’s more that comes out in that word than he ever intended. It hangs heavy in the air between them before dropping to the ground like a stone. Loud. Shattering on impact. Dean thinks his voice might have cracked and his vision is blurring because this pity? This is fucking worse. Shoving a Pop Tart in his mouth, Dean chews with his mouth open in the vain hope that his table manners will prove an adequate distraction, but that shit hasn’t worked for a long time.

It tastes like sawdust.

“Just go,” he says. “You have to go, man.”

It’s as much a plea for his brother as it is for himself, and for one long, terrifying moment Dean thinks Sam’s going to refuse. That he’s gonna be dragged across the country to witness his brother find happiness in a way he will never be able to have.

…But Sam is kind, not cruel, and when those big eyes of his fill with tears, Dean has never been so happy to have given himself up. He watches as his little brother’s shoulders slump. As he readjusts his duffle.

“I’ll be home in two days,” Sam says. “If you’re dead, I’m gonna pissed.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean replies, forcing himself to tease. To be excited. He deserves this. “Go sing in the rain or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Sam volleys back, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. He looks so happy, and Dean can’t stop himself from mirroring the expression. It hits him all at once, then—a sucker punch to the gut, the heart—that no matter what, he did right by his little brother. That he’s grown up to be smart, and kind and caring, and now he can be happy. And Dean—Dean’ll figure it out. But Sam’s taken care of and that’s… good. That’s a lot.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Mm.”

“I love you,” Sam says. He’s seven and thirty-seven and Dean feels something inside himself ease and break all at once.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”

Sam grins.

***

There’s no more frozen pizza.

It’s already a fucking travesty that the pizza place doesn’t deliver to their secret underground bunker, but Jack polished off the last two pies—and while it’s a little bit hilarious to think of the ‘New God’ (his kid) scarfing down shitty plain cheese in his pjs, it’s also awful, and painful. So Dean slips on his shoes, grabs his keys, and shoulders on the jacket with Cas’s handprint over his hole-y sleep shirt.

It’s not like he’s sober, but he’s done worse.

It feels like a shitty pizza day, so Dean makes a beeline for the Wal-Mart and its frozen section, stocking up on two of every topping from the cheapest brand they’ve got. He grabs popcorn, chips, twizzlers and margarita mix, because fuck it, and smiles at the cashier. It’s not an epic romantic reunion, but this is what normal people do, right? They take an entire day and wallow without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Dean’s cradling his spoils, twizzler hanging out of his mouth, shuffling out of the garage when—

He freezes.

The kitchen. There’s someone banging around in the kitchen.

Not like aggressively banging—one quick sweep around the area confirms no signs of forced entry—but just like… moving shit. Washing the dishes from this morning, or getting ready to make something new. Dean’s heart is caught between hope and heartbreak and he forces himself towards the latter. It’s probably Charlie, or Bobby or Jody or Donna or, hell, even Jack or Claire. No one else can get in. And if it’s something dangerous… well, Dean doesn’t have a weapon on him, and his damn pizza’s thawing.

But it’s not Charlie or Bobby or Jody or Donna. It’s not Jack. It’s not Claire.

…It’s Cas; freshly showered, dressed in Dean’s fucking clothes, making himself a sandwich.

He’s beautiful. Dean’s shirt—AC/DC, the one with the mustard stain on the collar—is just a little small on him, and he’s humming, and Dean has to blink once twice three times to make sure he’s not a goddamn mirage but no he’s still there, still scooping grape jelly onto the good bread and then putting the dirty spoon on the counter like a friggin’ heathen and—

“Are you gonna wash that?”

It’s sure as fuck not what he’d meant to say, but it gets the job done. Cas drops the spoon—the spoon—and whirls around like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Dean,” he breathes, like Dean’s name is some kind of benediction. Like it’s important.

Dean clutches his groceries tighter to his chest. “A-Are you…?” he asks. Steps forward. Steps back. Stares because he can’t, he can’t— “Are you real?”

Cas is barefoot. He’s quiet when he steps across the linoleum. His hair is turning fluffy where it’s drying and his eyes are blue and bright and he’s a miracle. “I’m real,” he confirms quietly. His hand twitches by his side, and Dean thinks that’s fair. Thinks that he gets that Cas has reservations because of—because.

But they’re unfounded. 

Dean drops his spoils because they’re an afterthought; nothing is more important than knowing, than reaching out to touch his fingertips to Cas’s shoulder. To his jaw. He can’t stop the tears from springing to his eyes like he can’t stop himself from laughing. Smiling. And suddenly he has Cas in his arms and he smells like Dean’s soap and Sam’s fancy shampoo, and they’re holding—clutching each other, and Dean turns his head because it has to be now he has to say it now: “Cas, I—”

“I know,” Cas interrupts. “You don’t have to—I know.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, voice high with something like hysteria. The whole thing is so absurd, so insane, so fucked, that it’s all he can do to bury his face in Cas’s neck. To squeeze his eyes shut. To talk. “Well, you’re a friggin’ moron,” he says. “And you got no goddamn idea what you’re talking about, because—because you changed me, too, you dick.” Cas’s fingers dig into Dean’s waist and Dean’s heart pounds like it’s trying to escape and his throat is dry and he’s sweating and he’s gonna be sick, he’s gonna die— “A-And I love you.”

He wrenches himself away, then, glaring like he dares Cas to take the words away from him. “Okay?” he asks, rhetorically. Menacingly. It’s a declaration and a confession and a challenge. And Cas meets his stare unflinchingly. He reaches up to thumb at the wetness on the apple of Dean’s cheek. “Okay,” he says. He nods. Leans in. “Okay.” Their mouths brush. “Good.”

It’s not even a real kiss, so Dean can’t be blamed for how he chases; how he breathes good, in faint agreement like a lovesick fool, and moves until they’re kissing good and proper—slow and sweet and then deep and wet and it’s good, it’s so good, he’s so good.

Later, they’ll have to make every thawed pizza. They’ll drink the margarita mix and share the same popcorn bowl and pay no attention to Dr. Sexy playing in the background. They’ll talk about Chuck and Jack and Sam. They’ll stare. They’ll tease. They’ll flirt.

But for now, Cas twists his hands in Dean’s shirt and Dean buries his hands in dark hair. They pause for breath only to come together, again and again and again.

And it’s good.

[albertasunrise]

Just Another Conquest - Part 2

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abortions, Mentions of Miscarriage.

Notes: Still a few touchy subjects in this chapter.

Part 1

You lay there waiting for the procedure to start, heart in your throat as you desperately tried to avoid his gaze. You weren’t sure why Javier wanted to be there for it, why he’d refused to leave your side since he’d found out you were in the hospital. You guessed he felt guilty, after all, he was the one that had gotten you into this mess so you had tolerated him. Had been civil. He had saved you from possible jail time, after all, flashing his badge and convincing the doctors not to report what you’d tried to do to your unborn child.

‘Right you ready?” The doctor asked in Spanish and you nodded, mixed feelings engulfing you at what was about to happen.

You nodded and she placed the probe on your exposed stomach, so you shut your eyes and waited, praying for it to be over. Javier watched you, his heart twisting as he watched the conflict you were suffering saturate your features. You had said you wanted this baby. That you were going to raise it alone and that he had an out. So why did it look like you didn’t?

Then he heard it and all thoughts disappeared like a puff of smoke.

The rhythmic thump of his child’s heartbeat filled the air and his own heart seemed to expand in his chest. He turned to look at the screen, the doctor pointing out the baby he’d helped create and he sobbed. He cried openly and you opened your eyes to see him staring at that small shape, hand over his mouth as he let his emotions flow freely. So you allowed yourself to look.

It was instant.

The feeling of love you had for this tiny being that you were growing inside of you. This tiny life that the doctor informed you were currently around the size of an olive. She then left the imaging on screen as she started to clean the jelly from your stomach and as soon as she was done, Javier placed a soft kiss there.

“Hello, little one.” He whispered and you swooned “I’m your Papi and I look forward to meeting you.” He finished before he looked up at you “If you’ll let me?”

You were at a loss for words. You’d not expected him to be so welcoming of this baby and a pang of guilt struck you. What if you had succeeded? You would have taken this away from him. You’d never stopped to consider that he might actually want this. Want to be a father.

You’d been too scared to consider it.

You were discharged later that day and Javier took you home, helped you get comfortable before putting away the medications and vitamins you’d been given. You weren’t sure when you dozed off but you’d been surprised to find that he was still there when you woke up later that day, carrying a tray of food with him as he set himself down on the bed beside you.

“Made you some soup.” He said softly as he placed the spoon in the bowl and handed it to you “Wasn’t sure whether you’d be up for anything bigger.”

“Why are you doing this Javier?” You asked, your brows furrowed as you gave him a questioning look.

“Doctor said you were going to be weak for a few more days and that you’d probably need a little extra help.” He replied, placing the bowl down when you didn’t take it.

“I know all of that I was there.” You grumbled, “I mean why are you helping me?”

“Because I care about you.”

“If you cared about me we wouldn’t be in this mess.” You spat and he flinched at the statement.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” He fumbled as he pushed the tray closer to you and stood “You don’t want me here... Fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Not you… I’m a fucking idiot. Thinking that you’d accept help from me.” He elaborated “Or that you’d be willing to let me be a part of this baby’s life. I have no right.” He finished as he shook his head and made his way towards the door “I’ll get Connie to come and help you. She's more qualified anyway.’ He threw over his shoulder as stepped through the doorway, only to be stopped when you called his name.

“You have every right to be a part of this baby’s life.” You started, expression softening a little “I just… I just don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to take care of me just because I’m carrying your child.”

“But that’s exactly what I am.” He turned to face you, tears pooling in those chocolate depths “It is my duty to care for the woman who’s to give me the greatest gift I’ve ever received. So I will do that however you’ll let me. Not because I need to.” He paused, locking eyes with yours “But because I want to.”

You nodded at him, giving him a weak smile before picking up the bowl of soup he left beside you and hummed in delight at the savoury flavours.

“Did you make this yourself?” You asked and he nodded shyly “This is really good. How did you learn to cook like this?”

“I nursed my mum through cancer.” He replied honestly and you looked up at him in shock “Kinda taught myself to cook so that I could take care of her and pops. He uh… Well, he didn’t cope well with her illness. Even worse when she passed.”

“Javier I-”

“I’m glad you like it Hermosa.” He interrupted with a smile, changing the subject “I’ll be just out here if you need anything.” He finished and you nodded, watching him leave whilst your heart ached for him.

~

3 months along…

“So the baby is around the size of a plumb now according to the baby book I got.” Exclaimed Javier excitedly and you smiled sweetly at him.

“You read a baby book?” Snorted Steve as he laughed at Javier’s statement, earning a smack on the arm from his wife.

“I think it’s sweet.” Announced Connie as she gave Javi’s arm a friendly squeeze.

“Have you told work yet?” Steve asked you, taking a swig of his beer.

“No.” You replied, shrugging as you spoke “We wanted to wait another month. Just to be sure everything’s… well you know.”

“Makes sense.” Connie replied as she placed a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you “So there’s been no complications from…” She trailed off and you caught the hurt that flashed in Javier’s eyes.

“No.’ You replied simply, giving him a regretful look “We’re both very lucky.” You finished as you placed a hand on your slight bump.

“Still can’t believe you tried to get rid of it yourself.” Said Steve, not seeing the glares he then received from you and Connie.

Javier felt his stomach twist at the memory of it. Standing abruptly from his seat and making a b-line for the bathroom, Steve watched his partner leave with confusion etched into his features before finally turning his head to see the angry stares of you and his wife.

“You really do need to work on your mental filter Steve.” Connie growled as she turned to look at you “I’m sorry. You okay?”

“I am but Javi…”

“He’ll be okay,” Steve waved off but you shook your head.

“No… You don’t...” You paused a moment, remembering the conversation you and he had shared a few weeks back ‘It still hurts him to know I tried.”

…

2 weeks prior…

‘So I got this baby book.” Said Javier as he placed a large paper bag down on the table “And don’t be mad, but I got a few other things.”

“Javier I’m not even 3 months along.” You chuckled “There’s still a risk that-”

“That what?” Javier asked, his tone taking you by surprise.

“That I could lose it.” You said, voice cracking a little when you saw the expression that spread across his face “I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“You tried to get rid of it and it came through that. I’m sure-”

“Why are you still holding that over me?” You snapped “I made a mistake Javier. You need to move on.”

“Move on?” He growled, tears forming in his eyes “Move on from the fact you tried to kill our baby?”

“I was scared, Javier!” You yelled “I let you in, gave myself to you and you rejected me. Quite publicly I might add.” You paused as you tried to calm your breathing “I’m then forced to take two months off because I became the talk of the embassy and in that time I find out I’m pregnant. How was I supposed to feel about it all Javier?”

“You should have come and talked to me.” He said, tears streaming down his cheeks “I would have-”

“You would have what?” You pried “Welcomed me with open arms? Told me that we could be a happy family and that you’d made a mistake telling me I was nothing more than a stress relief exercise?”

“I never said that.”

“Oh no… we were just two friends comforting each other right.” You scoffed “Except I was in love with you...” You stopped yourself there, unable to believe that you’d just blurted that out. “I’m glad you want to be a part of this baby's life, Javier. It’s not exactly the sort of situation I’d ever expected to have a child but we have to play with the cards we’re dealt. So why don’t we just agree not to discuss the horrific thing I tried to do and just celebrate and enjoy this experience.” You paused as you took his hands in yours “I’m sorry I nearly took them from you. I know it hurts you and it pains me that I inflicted that on you but they’re here.” You placed his hand on your stomach “Growing inside me, safe and sound. We’re going to be okay.”

He'd simply nodded, unable to say anything else on the matter but he knew that he needed to try and move on as you said. It had all turned out for the best.

Right?

…

Steve sat there in shock, reeling from what you’d just told him. His partner hadn’t talked much about what had happened, it had been Connie in the end that had told him, after gaining your permission of course.

“I should go talk to him.” You said as you pushed yourself to your feet, only to be stopped by Steve.

“Let me.” He said as he stood from his seat “My fault he’s upset.” He finished as he made his way to where Javier had gone.

He found his partner staring down at a sleeping Olivia, shoulders shaking as he desperately tried to keep his internal struggle from slipping to the surface. He didn’t notice his partner step up behind him and tensed when the man's hand landed on his shoulder.

“What you doing in here partner?” He asked softly, glancing at his sleeping daughter before returning his attention to Javier.

“What if I’m no good?” He asked, taking Steve off guard.

“What do you mean brother?”

“What if I don’t make a good father?” He asked, letting out a shuddering breath “She tried to terminate the pregnancy because she didn’t think I’d want this.”

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” Javier growled as he fell back into the soft armchair beside Olivia’s cot “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” He asked, perching on the changing table opposite his companion.

“No.” He replied, shaking his head “I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

“Well, I dunno how to advise you then man.” Steve sighed, scraping a hand over his mouth “All I can say is that you’re an idiot. She's an incredible woman and you’d be lucky to be with someone like her.”

“Trust me I know but… I don’t know I guess I just don’t know her well enough.”

“Well then make an effort to. See where that takes you and if you still don’t feel anything for her then fine but you owe it to her and your baby to at least try and see if there’s something there.” His partner finished as he got to his feet and placed a comforting hand over his shoulder “Just think about it Javi.”

…

“I should see what’s taking them so long.” You said, your nervousness getting the better of you “I’ll be right back.” You said over your shoulder to Connie before getting to your feet and making your way to where you knew Steve and Javier were, stopping when you heard their voices.

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” You let out a stuttered breath as you continued to listen “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his answer.

“No.”

Your heart shattered.

“I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

You couldn’t listen a moment longer. You made your way back to the kitchen where Connie was finishing up with the dishes, grabbing your cardigan and purse.

“You off?” She asked, noting the change in your demeanour as you headed towards the front door.

“Yeah, I uh…” You paused, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably “I’m tired. Say good night to Steve from me.” You choked before heading out the door, finally allowing yourself to fall apart the moment you were out of sight.

…

“She gone?” Asked Steve as he and Javier made their way back into the lounge.

“Yeah just a moment ago.” Connie stated as she looked at them both “She seemed pretty upset.” Her concern was evident in her features.

Javier’s stomach dropped. He said nothing, just sprinted out the door where he found you curled up on the ground as your tears fell freely. He was at your side in the blink of an eye, crouching down in front of you as he tried, desperately, to get you to look at him.

“Hermosa.” He pleaded and you finally look at him “What's wrong? Is it the baby?”

“Leave me alone Javier.” You growled, your sadness dissolving into anger.

“What is it?” He asked again and you scoffed at him.

“I think it would be best if we go our separate ways, Javier.” You said as you pushed him away and got to your feet “This isn’t going to work. I’m going to go and you can go back to screwing whoever takes your fancy. You aren’t cut out for this.” You finished as you cradled your small bump.

He recoiled at that, his own insecurities finally breaking free.

“I won’t stop you from seeing them. I’ll send you my address when I’m settled and if you want to come and see them then that's fine.”

“You’re leaving?”

“We both know I can’t stay here.” You growled.

“But the baby.” He sobs “I’ll miss everything.”

“You were going to miss that anyway.” You spat as you made your way over to the stairs “You’re a fool if you think you were actually going to see this through. We both know you can’t commit.”

With that, you left, stalking down the stairs and leaving a broken man in your wake. You were right. Of course, you were. He wasn’t cut out to be a father, he was deceiving himself and yet he'd wanted so desperately to try. Steve’s words floated around in his head. He should try to get to know you, to try and make a go of it but how could he when you wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't against the idea of a relationship with one woman, he'd tried once before with Lorraine but that had crumbled to the ground.

Could things be different with you?

Sinking to the floor he allowed himself to weep. To mourn the loss of his child for he knew that you’d keep them from him, you were right to. The floor is where Connie found him a short time later and it was where she held him as he cried. When his tears dried up she pulled him inside, comforted him as he slowly turned into a shell of the man he once was and Steve knew this was his fault. He had to fix it. He just wasn’t sure how.

~

2 weeks later…

Steve had worked hard to try and bring the two of you together. You’d not mentioned leaving again but you’d also not spoken to his partner since that night. He had pleaded with you to try, told you how broken Javier had been since then but you struggled to believe the agent. You’d heard what Javier had said, he didn’t want to be with you and that he wasn’t sure how this was going to work. You knew what that meant. So you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

You had to do right by your unborn child.

Steve continued to plead Javier’s case, however, telling you that the man was terrified to approach you for fear you would slam the door in his face you gave the blonde an opening. If Javier could come to you and make you believe that he was serious you would stay. If he couldn’t you would leave. Little did you know that the two DEA agents would be shipped off to Medellin for two weeks before he even got the chance.

Javier knocked on your door, flowers in hand and he nervously shifted from one foot to the other but when no answer came his brows furrowed in confusion and he knocked again. He'd had time in Medellin to think about things. To think about how he did want to try and make a go of things. Just because he wasn't in love with you now... Didn't mean that wouldn't come with time. He'd started to picture the family he could have with you and his heart had swelled at the idea. Knocking a third and final time he let out a frustrated sigh.

Still nothing.

Resigned to the fact you weren’t home, he sprinted upstairs and knocked on his partner's door, knowing his wife would be home with, hopefully, a little update on how you were. He’d read in the baby book that morning that now, at 14 weeks, the baby was around the size of a nectarine and that had excited him to no end. He had wondered if your bump had gotten any bigger and how you’d been coping with the morning sickness, something that had been a struggle when he’d last spoken to you.

“Javi.” Said Connie as she opened the door, Olivia in her arms “What are you doing here?” She asked as she bounced her fussy baby in her arms.

“Is she here?” He asked, saying your name when Connie gave him a bemused expression.

“You don’t know?” She questioned, her face crumpling at the realisation that he couldn't have.

“Know what?” He asked, his pulse racing as he watched Connie’s expression change to one he struggled to read “Connie where is she?”

“She left.”

Part 3

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Pro Heros Comforting an S/O with various chronic illnesses

All Might/ Yagi Toshinori

For being a chronically ill person, you were a big baby about being sick. Well, for you, there was two types of ‘being sick’. One, the usual, was the everyday upkeep of your body, with the usual minimal discomfort of working a machine with missing or loose parts. On the other hand, another type of ‘sick’ would be you hunched over the toilet, or sweating in bed with a trashcan by your face, or sobbing in the shower because of how shit you feel. 

Today was one of those sick sick days. 

You never admitted to anyone when you were having an especially hard day like today, sometimes not even yourself. In between bouts of puking up the small amount of food you should’ve been able to keep down, you’d convince yourself that it was just because it was stale, or that this was a fluke, or even try telling yourself that you were over reacting. 

So when your boyfriend gently asked if you were feeling okay to be home by yourself, you enthusiastically replied, “of course I am! Go ahead and go to work, I’ll be fine!”

So, he did. 

And you were definately not fine. 

Mere moments after he left, you were hovering over the toilet bowl, heaving up bile. You screamed at your body to just stop, to please just give up, but it couldn’t hear you. Instead, it did what it knew how to do best: be sick.

Finally, it was over, and you found refuge pressed up against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

You were a mess of sweat, tears, snot, and puke. 

Thinking of that just made even more tears stream out of your puffy eyes. 

Pathetic. 

You shakily turned on the shower. Maybe a cold shower will snap you out of it. Your clothes didn’t matter; they’re just pajamas. So, you crawled into the shower, looking for refuge. 

The ice cold water pelted your blanched flesh mercilessly, providing both relief and shock to your system.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to ignore your cramping abdomen and pay attention to the cool, refreshing liquid rolling down your back. 

In the end, though, you couldn’t focus on either of these things. 

Someone knocked at the bathroom door. By the way the person knocked, light and inquisitive, you knew it had to be him. 

He called out your name.

“Are you okay in there? Something told me to come check on you one more time,” he asked through the door. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He knocked again, a little harder this time. 

Still, you didn’t have the strength to respond. You rested your head onto the shower wall weakly. 

The doorknob wiggled noisily before he was in. 

“Oh, honey...” he murmured as he fully understood the situation. He flushed the toilet and opened the window to let in some fresh air. 

“I’m going to open up the shower now, okay?” 

He carefully pulled back the curtain and turned off the water. His heart panged to see you struggling like this. 

Like him.

He took a moment to cradle your cheek in his palm, cooing your name.

“I’m going to get you some fresh clothes. Don’t try standing up by yourself, okay? I’ll be right back,” he instructed gently. You nodded weakly.

He returned with some fresh pajamas and a towel. You shook your head.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he inquired, stroking your hair. You couldn’t help but begin to cry. It was so humiliating being taken care of. Hell, even needing to be taken care of was degrading. 

You squeaked out tiny words between sobs. He patiently tried his best to understand what had you so upset, but he just couldn’t hear you. 

So, his only chioce was to continue to clean you up. 

Gently, ever so gently, he dried you with the towel as best as he could with your soaked clothes on.

“Pumpkin, I hate to ask you this, but...can I take off these clothes to help you get into new ones? I promise I won’t look.” 

You sobbed pitifully. 

“I...Let me...let me try,” you managed to get out. He nodded.

“I’ll be right outside the door. Knock if you need any help at all,” he assured, kissing you sweetly on the forehead before leaving you alone. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to see you naked; he already had done that. It was just...you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Shakily, you stood up, grabbing the clothes. Your feet stepped out of the tub, only supported on shakey knees.

Knees that gave up on you.

Within an instant, you were collapsed onto the floor. You gasped at the impact, the wind being knocked out of you.

Toshinori was by your side before you could blink. He helped you sit up, asking tenderly if you were in any pain. You shrugged.

He sighed deeply.

“I...I’m so... sorry. You shouldn’t-“ you stammered before he shut you down.

“No. I should. It’s okay for you to need help. I understand. It’s not an inconvenience.”

“...but... your job... your students...”

“They’ll be fine. Right now, let me focus on you,” he asserted. You nodded, allowing him to undress and towel dry you before redressing you.

“Can you stand?” He asked. You thought for a moment before shaking your head. Instantly, the bathroom filled with smoke, and he appeared to you in his much more muscular form in order to carry you.

He being sick himself could never hope to carry you in his skinnier state.

You didn’t care however he looked. It was just that he was there. That he cared.

You were carried bridal style to your bed, and placed down ever so gingerly. Smoke surrounded you once again, cradling you for a moment before dissipating and revealing your boyfriend in his true form.

He leaned against the bed frame, coughing into a tissue.

A pang of guilt hit you, seeing how he’d sacrificed just a tiny bit of himself to keep you comfortable.

You pushed the guilt away, replacing it with warm love.

Instead of apologizing, you murmured a “Thank you.”

Aizawa Shouta

Today was a good day. Your joints weren’t achey, and you felt good enough to even go to the store with your boyfriend. Usually, he’d go by himself, or do a curb side pickup to save time, but you insisted that you wanted to go.

“Sho, please. I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” he replied skeptically. He knew your fighting spirit coming through when he saw your determined eyes, so he knew his words were of no use. However, he also was deeply worried about the pain that could show up later on that night.

Those were the hardest on Aizawa. He usually wasn’t home at night, so when he’d come into the bedroom and see the bedsheets strewn across the floor and your pain medications sitting idly on your dresser, the cap on sideways, he’d be instantly racked with guilt. He wanted to be there for you. Even if it meant seeing you in pain. He just wanted to be able to do whatever he possibly could to help alleviate things just a little for you.

Today, though, he relented, and you found yourself at the local grocery store. You chose to not bring your cane, opting to try to pretend that you were a perfectly healthy young person.

Bad idea.

About half way through your shopping trip, you could feel the beginnings of a flare up.

“Sho... Could you help me?”

He instantly took on your weight on one arm.

“Do you need to go home?” He asked quietly as to not stir the other customers. You shook your head.

“I’ll get you something. Hold on.”

And like that, he was gone and you were alone in the bread aisle.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

Stupid! You should’ve known better!

It wasn’t long before he was back, riding on a mobility scooter. He stood up, gesturing towards it.

You knew it’d help, but...

“What will people think?” You whimpered before you could even think about it.

He scoffed.

“Geez, baby. I hope you realize that other people’s opinions should never trump your own comfort.”

You nodded, still anxious about how it’d look for someone like you to be using something like that.

“But...what if someone actually needs it?” You ask as you guide yourself into the seat.

“You need it. It’s okay,” he reassured plainly.

That night, you had no pain. All your body was filled with was butterflies as Aizawa gently cuddled you to sleep.

Sir Nighteye/Mirai Sasaki

You’ve always been sick. It was a part of your identity that you’d come to terms with. Sure, your life was shaped different than everyone else’s, but you didn’t mind much. 

You brewed yourself some tea, breathing in the fresh steam from the kettle. The warm air made its way past your oxygen tube, warming you from the inside out. Today was going to be a good day. You could tell that much by the light rays of sun filtering past the blinds, and the way you weren’t a coughing mess by now. Usually, you were signaled to remember to take your meds and do your treatments by your own sputtering and coughing, but today, things were going a little different so far. 

Your boyfriend came into the kitchen, stretching a little, causing his bones to crack and pop. He retrieved his black coffee from the pot, lightly and lovingly brushing his hand across your upper arm as he moved. 

You instantly tensed up.

“Don’t do that,” you frowned, glaring at him, “it’s too early in the morning to think about that yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

“Your quirk. Don’t use it on me.”

He put both hands up, “If you wish for me not to touch you, I won’t.”

“That’s...not what I’m asking for and you know it.”

He allowed himself a tiny smile. He did know that. 

You turned around, moving your attention back to your tea. Mirai stared at you lovingly as he sipped on his drink. 

Two sugar cubes plopped into the tea, honey and lemon being stirred in next. Just how you like it.

Just as you were getting enveloped in the whirlpool you made with your spoon, Mirai broke your train of thought.

“Today’s going to be a good day,” he murmured.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Regained Passion - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 3 - Bonding

=

Welp…there he was…in an intermediate dance class, thankfully Bert taught the class (he actually taught a good handful, he was just the main beginner class teacher) so Harry wouldn’t be thrown into a whole new class with no familiar faces. Harry held down a smile as he remembered the jealous faces of his ex-dance classmates as Bert told him about his ‘level up’ the day before. He had only been at the studio for a month before he was leveled up, his schedule had changed a bit as well, before he was only going to the studio three days a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Now he would be going Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. His hour-long classes turning to two as Bert led Harry’s fellow dancers through new and much more complicated steps.

The only good thing that had come out of this was that his classes now ended at the same time as (y/n)’s, and now he would be able to go across the hall to pick her up instead of going from the back of the school to the front as he did when he was still in beginner.

Harry sat on the floor as he slid on his ballet shoes, strapping them to his feet and tossing his bag against the wall, standing with a sigh and walking over to where Bert was talking to the dancers.

“Any of ya hear of the ol’ bamboo?” Bert asked, taking a step back and grabbing a long stick, twirling it in his hands. The whole class shook their heads, well minus Harry, who just rose his brow. “well, this is what ya gonna be learning for the end of spring performance next year, the beginners are doin’ Step in time, ya will be doing ol’ bamboo, and the expert class is doing ballet, with miss charming as their star” Harry perked up at that, so that was the performance Esmerelda was talking to (y/n) about huh?

“So!” Bert clapped his hands, grinning at his students “let's start with the lyrics, shall we?! It is a musical performance after all”

-

By the end of the two hours, Harry was kinda exhausted, less exhausted than the rest of his classmate's thanks to his isle-bred stamina but still…very tired and very sweaty. Harry wiped down his face and neck with a cool towel and changed out his shoes.

“Hi~” Harry looked up, unable to keep the smile off his face as (y/n) looked down at him, hanging her head upside down while doing so “How was class?”

“Like usual” Harry simply replied, looking back at his shoes “Wha’ are yeh doin’ here? I thought yer class ended a bit after mine?” (y/n) just hummed, grabbing Harry’s bag and holding it open for Harry to toss his dance shoes in, then handing it to him as he stood.

“Ended early, Esméralda had an appointment…do you want to go get ice cream?” Harry rose his brow as he looked to (y/n), who gave an unsure smile.

“Ice cream?” Harry hummed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looked to the ceiling “Do I-Harry Hook-want ice cream?” (y/n) rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder gently. “Ice cream sounds good” Harry chuckled, patting (y/n)’s head and offering his arm again, once again ignoring the spark running through his skin as (y/n) hands wrapped around his arm.

“Yay! There's this new place I've been wanting to try! But no one will go with me! I'll drive us there!” Harry smiled at (y/n)’s rambling, leading her to pull him along to the parking lot where her car was.

-

“No-no no no no, the egg travels back in time and it creates a new timeline, and then later it's revealed that there's another egg that was corrupted that ALSO traveled back in time, but that one’s helping the yiga clan.” Harry licked his lips free of his chocolate ice cream, narrowing his eyes as (y/n) finished her mini-rant about one of her favorite games lore.

“So,” Harry started, setting down his spoon and tilting his head “the egg? Is-a time-traveling mini guardian?? And-the princess, Link or whatever-“ (y/n) looked at him with puffed cheeks.

“Zelda! Link is the knight! Zelda is the princess!” Harry made a face.

“But if the stories mostly follow Link, why is it called Legend of Zelda!?” Harry gave a smug smirk as (y/n) huffed and wiped the corner of her lips free of her ice cream.

“Becauseeeee oh! I remember! Well don’t quote me on it, but the first game was originally going to be about Zelda exclusively, then they made Link and they found the new story worked better, they just kept the original title.” Harry hid his smile behind another mouthful of ice cream, (y/n) was pretty cute when she went on her video game rants, Legend of Zelda being one of her favorites. “Okay, at some point you have to play one of the games, especially breath of the wild, you can barrow my switch” Harry chuckled, setting down his now empty cup of ice cream.

“Alright then” Harry started, grabbing a napkin and wiping his mouth “sounds fun?” (y/n) beamed in excitement, dancing in her seat a bit.

“Yes!...I can’t wait to see your ass kicked by a lynel” (y/n) cackled, laughing louder as Harry gave her an odd look.

“From how yer laughing, that tells me it's not a fun thing ta fight?” Harry guessed, smiling as (y/n) nodded through her laughter.

“Lynels are harder to beat than the final boss, which is bullshit but I digress” Harry turned to see Audrey, who was smiling at (y/n)s giggling self “side note; it’s a little odd to see you two hanging out” she waved off Harry’s slightly offended look “not in a mean way, more; you're both from a different crowd and Chad likes to say shit about you to (y/n)…though she” she gestured to (y/n) who was coming down from her giggle fit. “doesn’t like listening to Chad, so I should have expected this.”

“Damn right, hell will freeze over before I actually listen to his dumbass” (y/n) chuckled, finishing off her ice cream and looking up at Audrey, who was picking up her shopping bags again and going to leave “What are you doing here by the way?”

“Oh just some shopping, trying out a new style and all that, good day you two!” Audrey sauntered off, leaving (y/n) and Harry alone once more.

Harry looked back at (y/n) at the same time she did, they both smiled and (y/n) nodded back towards the parking lot of the mall they were at “Wanna get started on breath of the wild?”

Harry smiled, turning to toss his empty ice cream cup in the trash can behind him “Sounds fun”

-

“No! Dodge to the side! YES! Okay, mash the Y button!” Gil and Uma stepped into (y/n)s dorm room, having been looking for Harry for the past two hours after he didn’t return from dance class, and Gil had suggested looking for Harry in (y/n)s room.

Uma had thought it was a stupid idea but humored Gil, only to be surprised to see Harry and (y/n) in bean bags as Harry button mashed the controller he held in his hand, sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration. “Uhhhh Harry?” Uma called out, leaning back a bit as Harry shushed her.

“I’m fighting a lynel and am about to die I need silence!” Harry yelled, leaning forward into his controller, tossing his hands up in shock as the red-maned lynel finally died “FUCKING FINALLY!” (y/n) cheered along with Harry, laughing as he pulled her into his side.

Uma and Gil gave each other a look, Uma smirking before walking towards the two and pulling Harry up to his feet “Awesome, you beat a video game mini-boss, I've been looking for you for two hours” Harry seemed to come down from his victory high and gave a sheepish smile.

“Oh uh…sorry?” Uma hummed and nodded, grabbing his arm and waving to (y/n).

“Say bye to (y/n) Harry” Harry waved (y/n) goodbye as she giggled and saved Harry's game, switching the profile to her game.

“Bye (y/n)” (y/n) beamed at him, waving at him as he was pulled backward by Uma towards the door.

“Bye Harry!”

Uma pulled Harry out of the room, rolling her eyes a bit as Harry continued to wave until he was out of (y/n)s sight. Gil followed them out and closed the door behind him. “You are so smitten” Gil laughed, very much enjoying the way Harry’s face lit up.

“No-no I’m nae” Harry stuttered, pulling out of Uma’s grasp and stomping ahead of them “Yer out a yer mind Gil” Uma and Gil shared another look.

“He’ll realize it at some point, I give it another month or two” Uma mumbled, smirking as Gil patted his pocket where his wallet was.

“Three, twenty bucks” Uma nodded and the two shook hands to seal their bet, jogging forward to catch up with their flustered friend.

-

Jane sat against the wall of mirrors, watching you move about the almost empty room as you practiced your part from the duet Esméralda had assigned you. Jane wasn’t all that knowledgeable in the world of dance but it wasn’t hard to see you were struggling, not in the way of movement but in the way of conveying emotion in your dance.

It almost seemed….stale, if anything, the dance was supposed to convey two people falling in love, but Jane; as far as she knew, knew you had never fallen in love so it would be hard to convey that exact emotion. You had really only known platonic and familial love.

You stopped, collapsing to your knees as you heaved for breath, sweat dripping off your brow. Jane furrowed her brows in concern and stood, grabbing your water bottle and walking over to you, she kneeled beside you and handed you the bottle, staring at you as you greedily downed the water. “Are you okay?” Jane asked, mentally wincing as it was obvious that you weren’t.

You gasped as you finally took the bottle away from your lips, shaking your head “I just-I just can't seem to get this right, Esméralda says if I can't find the emotions I need to convey in this duet then she’ll replace me and-and”  you sighed, letting your head fall between your shoulders. “I can't let them down” Jane furrowed her brows.

“Let who down?” Jane asked, unsure of who you were talking about, as far as she knew your parents didn’t really pressure you about your dancing, they were wholly supportive and understanding through every bit of your journey through dance.

“…I don’t know” you whispered, curling up and resting your chin on your knees. “My parents? Me? Grandpa? Esméralda? I’m not sure…but I feel like if I don’t get this right, I’ll be letting someone down” Jane rubbed your back, unsure of how to comfort you. You stood after a few moments and walked over to the stereo. “One last time, okay? Then I’ll be done for the day”

“Okay,” Jane mumbled, going to sit back down against the wall, starting up the camera on your phone to record you one last time at your request so you could see any mistakes you made.

You stood in the middle of the room, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as the music began.

And you danced.

-end of part 3-

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​ @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @rintheemolion​

@imtryingthisout​ @verboetoperee​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[afictionalwhore]

Oh Baby!

A/N: this was something sweet inspired by some of my babies at the daycare but then at 1 am, it turned into something completely different. I’ll try to make a part two out of the original idea. I struggled hard with a title. Titles are the worst

TW: mentions of kidnapping, soft yandere, smut, pregnancy

2.4K words

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Ever since Keigo kidnapped married you, he had kept you tucked away in your new home, a cozy cabin up the side of a secluded, lesser known mountain. You lived so high up in such a densely forested area that only Hawks could find you, completely cut off from the outside world. He never had to worry about you leaving, one woman with a common healing quirk that would do nothing to help in navigating down the mountain. The locals, inhabitants of a small village at the foot of your mountain, believed the woods to be enchanted, so Keigo had to worry less about a villager managing to stumble their way into your backyard.  

It wasn't so bad. Keigo made sure you were never bored. For when he wasn't home for you to tend to his needs, Keigo kept your home well stocked with books. It was the first thing he had shown you in your new home: your personal library. A whole room of the quaint house, your favorites, a whole shelf dedicated to just literary classics, as well as everything on your "to read" list. There was never a shortage of cookbooks. He was so excited that his large wings were flapping as though he were a young puppy wagging their tail, the giant scarlet curtain nearly knocking a shelf down on you.

"I hope you like it." Keigo looked at you, his eyes shining like an innocent puppy. "As much as I love you, I can't be with you all day. Someone has to keep food on the table." He chuckled while keeping a tight grip on your waist, and looking down at you expectantly.

"Oh. Thank you," you replied, your voice small, but loud enough for Keigo to hear. The hold on your waist loosened, and Keigo resumed his tour of your new home.

Of course, there was no TV, lest you stumble upon the news. While he's at it, no newspaper either. You didn't need those to know what was going on outside. It was a scary world out there, full of villains who wouldn't hesitate to snatch you up and use your healing quirk for their own. You were perfectly safe here with him. 

It took some time, but eventually you had come around and loved Keigo back. You were always curled up on the couch, book in hand, waiting for him to come home. As soon as he was in the doorway, you'd make your way to him, like clockwork, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek while helping him shrug off his heavy coat. Your voice was still small and hesitant around him, as though you were afraid of him. This irritated him, as Keigo didn't understand what could make you so jumpy still. He had never raised a hand against you. The two of you would have dinner, usually having to reheat whatever you had made because Keigo often worked overtime. Keigo was so happy you were making use of the cookbooks he gave you. 

You were turning out to be the perfect wife. Keigo was certain you loved him just as much as he loved you, or as close as someone could come to that level of love. He didn't believe anyone could match the way he felt about you. You were even going to have a kid together, a testament of your love. 

When you first announced your pregnancy to him, Keigo was ecstatic. He had come home that day, exhausted and overworked, excited to be welcomed home by his little wife. His stomach growled as he landed in your front yard, and he wondered what you decided to cook up for him. He noticed you'd gotten experimental in your cooking, always asking how things tasted. You were so cute when you had him guess whatever secret ingredient you added. 

When you weren’t at the door to greet him with open arms and a kiss, Keigo was disappointed in you. You were doing so well. He shook off his coat and stretched his wings, taking up the better half of your living room. You weren't nestled in the couch, engrossed in a book, as you sometimes were too distracted in your literary world to realize he had come home.

"Baby," Keigo called out, his voice echoing against the wooden walls of your homely cabin. "I'm home. I know it's a lot later than usual."

 Keigo figured you must have gone to bed already. He could forgive you for not staying up for him, he thought it was rather cute, though next time, he wished you'd fall asleep on the couch. 

When he entered your shared bedroom, Keigo saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing the doorway. You trembled—or was it a shiver? You must be cold without his body heat beside you. Keigo was his own heating unit.  

“Baby bird,” Keigo took a step into the room. “I’m home."

No response from you.

Another step.

"Can I get a kiss?”

You shivered again.

Keigo had taken off his uniform as he was making his way towards you and the bed. Now in just his boxers, Keigo heaved himself on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to sink slightly. He laid on his side to spoon you, wrapping a large, warm arm around your center. At this distance, Keigo heard it: your small sniffles. You weren't asleep; you were crying.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Keigo asked, worry sickening him. "Did ya miss me that much?" He tried to joke, more for his sake than yours.

After no response from you, save for a few more sniffles, Keigo asked once again what was wrong, a little more urgently. His racing thoughts of you leaving, of you not loving him, were sending him into a panic.

You mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you." Keigo struggled to hang on to his cool.

You mumbled yet again, causing Keigo's growing panic and frustration with you to snap. He clamored over you, swinging his legs so that you were caged underneath him, his hands at either side of your head. Golden eyes locked onto your watery ones, staring you down.

“(y/n),” Keigo said firmly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

"I'm pregnant" you spat at him, frustrated at the fact itself and having to repeat it three times. The more you said it felt like the final pat of a shovel packing the dirt above your grave. You wiped away a tear before turning and shoving your face in your pillow. 

“Oh baby.” Keigo was almost at loss for words. He had been anticipating this moment—stocking the bathroom cabinet with pregnancy tests the moment you arrived—yet in it, he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to say. He took your face in his hands and turned your head to look at him.

“Are you for real?”

“What would I gain from lying?” You attempted to make your words hit him like poisonous darts, but your quaking voice only managed to soften him.

“I love you so much,” Keigo dipped his head down to give you a chaste kiss, softer than his usual greedy ones, as though he were afraid of breaking you. Your eyes shut instinctively.

“This is so exciting, (y/n). You have no idea how happy I am."

A kiss to your cheek. 

 "I love you."

A kiss to your other cheek.

"I love you."

Keigo rose up on his hands and knees again.

"I promise to be the best father to our child."

You felt something splash on your cheek. You slowly opened your eyes again to see Keigo crying above you. 

"I love you, too," your voice small and shaky as you looked up at Keigo, knowing he would just continue to stare at you and cry until you said it back.

Keigo beamed down at you before dipping down for another kiss, this one a little rougher, more passionate is how Keigo would describe it.  His warm mouth worked against yours, his lips chapped slightly from the harsh wind on his rushed flight home. 

You thought Keigo would deepen the kiss, expecting to feel his impatient tongue poking between your lips and licking your bottom lip. Instead Keigo pulled away and sat back on your legs, the bottom half of his own legs tucking your legs under him. He studied your body, eyes trailing down your form, stopping briefly at your stomach. 

Keigo bent down again, lips now hungrily, but gently, pecking at your neck. He pulled your shirt off, delighted by your lack of bra underneath, before making his way down your chest to pepper your body with kisses. Between each small kiss, Keigo whispered "I love you" against your body.

His large hands came up to cup your breasts, careful not to squeeze too hard lest he hurt you. Usually Keigo would give them more attention, but that wasn't his main focus for tonight. He hummed as he kissed between them, flicking your nipples lightly. You couldn't suppress a small moan.

Spurred by your shy noises of pleasure, Keigo continued to move down your body. When he reached your lower abdomen, right below your belly button, Keigo's whispers of "I love you" grew more frantic, as though he was trying to tell the baby that was forming in you that he loved them.

When Keigo finally reached between your legs, he planted sweet kisses on the insides of your thighs while dragging your panties down. He tossed them to the side and lifted your legs onto his shoulders before nestling down. Keigo's face between your legs was hit with your heat. He inhaled your sweet scent, and his honeyed eyes looked up to meet yours.

"I love you, (y/n)," he stated before dipping down to lap at your puffy folds.

Keigo was excited, as any man in his position would be. As much as he wanted to pound into your until your voice hoarse from your cries and screams of his name, his main goal tonight was to make you feel good while being as gentle with you as possible. He was terrified of hurting his child in you because of his lack of self-control.

His tongue flicked at your clit, continuing to hold your gaze until your head rolled back with a low groan. Your hands found themselves tangling into his tousled golden hair, your back arching in attempt to push yourself into his mouth. Keigo chuckled against your swollen clit, the vibrations causing you to cry out and tug on his golden locks.

This spurred him on more. Keigo pushed a rough finger into you before hooking it and dragging slowly out of you, drawing a sweet moan of his name to fall out of your lips. This repeated motion combined with his sucking and lapping at your clit caused you to climb higher to your orgasm.

“Keigo, please,” you begged, seeking relief from the coiling in your gut.

Keigo hummed again against your clit, eliciting the same sweet moan and tug from you as before. He took his chance to slip another finger into you, curling both fingers against your spongy spot before dragging them down your walls.

"Keigo, I'm so close," you whined.

"Then come, baby bird." That was all you needed for the band to snap. Moans of his name and incoherent phrases tumbling out of your pretty lips.

While you were climbing down from your orgasm, Keigo found the time to remove his boxers.

Keigo sat down back down on the mattress, settling beside your shaking form with his back to the headboard. His own need was now too painful to ignore. Not wanting to put any unnecessary pressure on your stomach, Keigo pulled you up and into his lap, your entrance, slick with your own cum and his spit, hovered over his weeping cock, close enough for the heat radiating out of you to tease him. 

“I love you.” Keigo held eye contact with you as he sank you down on his cock, his large hands holding your hips. Once you were fully seated on him, Keigo leaned back against the headboard. He gave a few shallow thrusts to test what you (and the baby) could handle.

Keigo settled on a steady, but gentle rhythm. You splayed your hands on his broad chest as he bounced you on his cock. Despite the gentleness and the shallowness of Keigo's thrusts and your bouncing, you were quickly climbing your way to a second orgasm. Already sensitive from your first, Keigo's cockhead managed to nudge against your sweet spot with every roll of his hips.

"Keigo, I'm close." you cried, hiding your face in his neck. One of his hands left your hip to allow his thumb to roll your sensitive bud, causing your walls to tighten and convulse around him.

"Me too, baby." Keigo said, breathless. "I'm so close. So close. Come with me, baby."

With a strained groan, Keigo's thumb on your clit sped up, causing the heat that had once again built up within you to break. You scratched desperately at Keigo's back, hiding your face into the crook of his neck. Your hot walls clamped down on him, the final push Keigo needed to fall off the edge himself.

With chants of "I love you", Keigo began to hump his cum into you before stilling, his hips flush against yours, head tilted back and back arching off the headboard.

Once you had both come back to earth, Keigo laid you onto your back before pulling out his softening dick from you and rolling off you onto his side, white cum leaking out of you. 

"Not that this really matters anymore now," Keigo couldn't help the chuckle that left him. With the pad of his index finger, he pushed his now cooled cum into you. 

At that statement, the fog of your two orgasms lifted, and the realization of your situation set in; you could never leave now. You let out a choked sob as Keigo rested a hand on your stomach before pulling you into him and wrapping a large, red wing over the two of you like a personal cocoon. Nuzzling his face into your neck, facial hair tickling the crook, Keigo gave you soft kisses and gentle words of praise, chalking up your soft sobs to the hormones adjusting your body to his child.

[lillywillow]

Cold Heart of the Wild

Summary: For days Bucky has been having dreams about a white wolf and a mysterious woman. What happens when his dreams become reality?

 Word Count: 2234

 Square Filled: White Wolf

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

 Warnings: Mentions of hunting and shooting, injuries, minor mentions of death

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 Snow covered the ground in every direction Bucky looked. It crunched under his feet as he moved; where he was going, he didn’t know. Suddenly, a howl filled the air, its mournful sound sending chills down his spine. There was a flash of movement in the bare trees. Bucky followed it, catching a glimpse of a white wolf.

 The wolf stopped for him as if expecting something. Did it want him to follow? Bucky looked at it for a moment before it ran off.

 “Wait!”

 Bucky chased after the wolf, running in between frozen vegetation, trying desperately to keep up with it. He lost sight of the wolf. Feeling lost in this icy landscape, he frantically searched for any more signs of life. That’s when he saw her.

 A woman dressed in animal hide clothing. A hunter perhaps?

 “Hey!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to her.

 The woman began turning...

...

Bucky woke in a cold sweat. He had almost forgotten all about the mission he was going on that morning. As he prepared for it, he reflected on his dream. That was the sixth night in a row he’d been having dreams like that. Could that possibly mean something? There was no time to dwell too much further on the subject. Bucky had to board the jet and get ready to go.

...

 Bucky’s plane was shot down somewhere over the Alaskan wilderness. He survived the initial crash relatively unharmed but there were Hydra agents waiting on the ground. He fought and took them out but his side was badly injured. As he collapsed in the snow, he thought for sure this was where he was going to die.

 Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness but caught flashes of images.

 The sound of gunfire.

 A white wolf hovering over him.

 Being dragged on some kind of sled.

 A woman with a rifle strapped to her back.

 Bucky’s eyes opened in a jolt. The images had been so familiar to him; he expected to see the sterile environment of a Hydra lab. To his surprise, he found himself in a quaint wood cabin. There were animal hides on the bed keeping him warm.  A fireplace along a wall had a cauldron of something delicious smelling food hanging in its stony walls. A kitchen nook was off to the side of the cabin. The place was rather cosy. Bucky sat up causing pain to shoot through him. He carefully lifted his shirt to see someone had tended to his wound although now blood was seeping through the bandaging. Holding onto his side, Bucky forced himself to his feet and looked out the small window.

 Outside, he could see a woman standing in front of two crudely made graves. She was dressed exactly the same as the one that had been haunting his dreams. A sound behind him caught his attention. Slowly turning around, he saw a white wolf. He went to comment but the pain in his side became too much and he fell to his knees. The wolf went out what appeared some kind of doggy door carved through the main one. A few minutes later, the woman came in, quickly shutting the door behind her. She helped Bucky off the floor and back onto the bed. He whimpered and held up his hand which was now bloodied. She made a disapproving sound with a click on her tongue.

 “You’ve opened that wound again,” she stated. She carefully lifted his shirt once more, helping him to sit up as she cleaned and redressed the injury.

 Once she had finished and washed her hands, she went to get two bowls, filling them with whatever was in the cauldron. She came back, handing him one with a spoon.

 “Thanks,” he muttered. She nodded and sat down to eat as well. A silence fell over the pair of them.

 As Bucky ate, so many questions filled his mind. Who was this woman? Why did she save him? Why had he been dreaming about her? What did any of this have to do with the wolf? He was still very cautious.

 “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... is... we need to get out of here!” Bucky stood up but immediately fell back down in pain.

 The woman sighed and made sure his wound hadn’t once again reopened.

 “You’re safe here. Those Hydra agents won’t be around to bother us. I made sure of it...”

 Bucky froze, fear and dread suddenly sunk in.

 “H-how do you...” The woman sighed softly.

 “I was an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. much like you. I was sent on a mission and my plane went down...”

 It dawned on Bucky why she was so familiar and it had nothing to do with his dreams.

 “You’re Y/N L/N! You were one of the best! I read your file. You went missing ten years ago. Presumed dead...”

 “And I would have been if it hadn’t been for Agnes...”

 “Who’s Agnes?”

 Y/N walked over to the window, her eyes ghosting over with memories.

 “Agnes was... one of the strongest women I have ever known. She lived here with her husband until he died. Lived here on her own for quite some time.”

 “What happened to her?”

 “Two years ago, there was a big grizzly bear... it crept up on Agnes and attacked... I did the best I could to help her and she hung in there for as long as she could... I’ve been here on my own ever since.”

 The wolf let out a huff.

 “Except for James of course,” she smiled. The wolf gave an approving noise.

 “James?” Bucky was more than a little surprised.

 “Agnes told she found him abandoned as a pup. She raised him to be I guess a sort of pet. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to him until his time comes.”

 “What do you mean?”

 Y/N once again sighed and tossed James a piece of meat.

 “James is getting pretty old in wolf years. Now, if he should die of natural causes I can bury him with some honour but I’ll be damned if I let some hunter take him away from me.”

 Bucky went quiet for a few moments.

 “How come... you never went back? You could have left at any time...”

 Y/N scoffed softly.

 “When I went down in that plane, it was winter, just as it is now. Every day I wondered if I was ever getting out of here and with each passing month, that hope left. Maybe they sent a search party and couldn’t find me, maybe they couldn’t be bothered, maybe the stories got to them and scared them away...”

 “Stories?” Bucky asked.

 “You see, Alaska has a sort of... Bermuda Triangle area. Planes, ships and people go missing, strange lights in the sky, strange creatures spotted... I never believed the stories but... Perhaps I’ve been without human interaction for too long,” she shrugged. “Anyway, you should get some rest. I’m going to go and hunt something for dinner. If you need anything before I go, tell me now.”

 Bucky shook his head and Y/N made him comfortable before she left with James following behind her. He had been given so much information in such a short amount of time yet he still had questions but for now he would just take some time to allow his body to heal itself.

...

 When night fell, Y/N had boarded up any areas that cold might creep in. She made another stew out of the game she hunted in the afternoon and made herself comfortable next to Bucky.

 “Wh-what are you doing?” His face flushed at their close proximity.

 “It’s below freezing outside. If you want to survive, you’ll need my body heat.”

 Bucky nodded and slowly allowed himself to relax before realising something.

 “Wait! James isn’t here! Shouldn’t he be inside with us?”

 Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness toward the animal.

 “James will be fine. Wolves have adapted to centuries of this kind of weather. He has his own little spot to sleep in nearby and he can do whatever he wants to do.”

 Bucky was a little relieved to hear that.

 “Tell me more about your life here,” he prompted.

 “What’s there to know? It’s life in the Alaskan wilderness. I hunt, I stock up on supplies, and I sleep at night...”

 “Well then tell me about Agnes. I’m sure you must some stories about her...”

 Y/N regarded him carefully for a moment.

 “Alright... but only if you tell me about you in return. You read my file back at... wherever you came from, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”

 “James Buchannan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”

 Y/N let out a soft laugh, unable to believe the coincidence.

 “James and James... I guess I will have to call you Bucky to avoid confusion,” she smiled.

 The pair of them spent the night swapping stories and getting to know each other better until they eventually fell asleep. That night for the first time in a long time, Bucky had a dreamless sleep.

...

 Time went by and eventually a month had passed. Bucky and Y/N had formed a strong bond with each other in what was beginning to feel like love. Y/N wondered if this is how Agnes had felt with her husband.

 Then one day, it happened. Y/N was in her storage shed when she heard James snarling and barking. She ran out to see a helicopter appear a moment later, landing in a small clearing nearby. Bucky hobbled out of the house at the commotion. Although his injury was healing nicely, he still had some more to do.

 A few men exited the chopper and headed over to the two of you. You called James to your side to keep him from attacking the strangers but he was still on edge.

 “Buck... good to see you,” one of the men wearing a uniform went to Bucky and hugged him. Bucky hugged back.

 “Good to see you too, Steve. How’d you find me?”

 “We tracked where your jet went down. I’ve been searching for as long as I could ever since. Finally caught a break today when we saw the smoke from the chimney,” Steve replied, nodding over to the house. “Who’s this?”

 “Steve, this is Y/N. She saved my life...”

 Steve looked at her for a moment.

 “The same Y/N who went missing a decade ago?”

 “The very same...”

 “Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?”

 The pair of them went out of Y/N’s earshot but whatever they were saying, it was argumentative. After a few moments the pair walked back to her.

 “Y/N, how would you like to come back with us?” Steve reluctantly offered.

 “I... I can’t...”

 Bucky looked at her sadly.

 “I have James to think of.”

 “James is... a wolf?” Steve asked.

 “He’s not just a wolf. James is too used to humans. He’s vulnerable and a prize for hunters around here. I can’t just leave him.”

 “I see...”

 “Steve, can we have a moment alone?” Steve nodded and left the two them to have a little privacy.

 “You could stay...” Y/N said softly.

 “I wish I could but I can’t. That punk needs me... like James needs you.” His eyes filled with tears as did hers.

 “I... I really hope I’ll see you again.”

 “I do too, doll.”

 Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Y/N kissed back, holding him as close as she could. Eventually air was needed and they pulled away. Bucky gave her a communicator to keep in touch, telling her to call him if anything happened. Only after the helicopter disappeared out of sight did Y/N allow herself to cry.

...

 Six months later, Bucky finally heard back from her.

 “Hello? Bucky?”

 “Y/N! Is it really you?”

 “Y-yeah...”

 “Is everything okay? You sound upset...”

 “Um... James... passed away...”

 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry...”

 “I... I had been expecting it for a while... he hasn’t been well for days. I found him this morning. Can you... can you come and take me away? I don’t... I don’t want to die alone out here...”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

...

 It took a lot of convincing but Bucky was allowed to go and collect Y/N. He had marked the coordinates of her cabin on a map and went there as fast as he could.

 The moment she saw him, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s arms and sobbed. Bucky held her close and rubbed her back.

 “It’s okay, doll. I’m here now. I’ve got you. You’ve done your duty to Agnes and laid James to rest...”

 The pair stood there for a while until Y/N had calmed down enough before heading to the transport. As they flew over the Alaska wilderness, Y/N took one last look at the place for ten years she called home. She held Bucky’s hand, ready to start a new chapter of her life.

[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 2/?

Chapter 1

Her first visitor was - quite unsurprisingly - Moblit.

He brought food, a change of clothes and even books to her. All of them - Hange couldn't help but note - were picked up to suite her interests.

Then he sat down next to her and proceeded to clean the small cut on her cheek, the one she received during the raid on Liberio, when one of the bullets flew almost too close for her to dodge.

"It's just a scratch," she whispered, still unable to meet his gaze. She did not deserve his kindness. She never did.

"It still might get infected," Moblit murmured, applying a soothing balm on the wound. Gentle, he was always so gentle with her. So patient too. Hange’s eyes started to sting.

"And why do you care?" she asked, staring at the wall in front of her. "Don't you..." she closed her eyes, wincing. Why did she care? He was an enemy, the devil of Paradise, and yet— yet her heart still squeezed painfully and her stomach was in knots. "Don't you hate me?"

Moblit sighed, putting away the med kit. He rose up from his kneeling position and joined her on a small prison bed.

"I tried," he confessed softly. "I tried hating you, so hard and for so long but I just… couldn't. You know when Captain Levi broke the news of your betrayal..." he chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I started crying. I thought how could you do that, after those years we've spent fighting side by side, how could lie to us like this? But then..."

"Then?" Hange echoed, her voice wavering.

"Then I remembered our first expedition," Moblit smiled. "The one where I almost got eaten. You saved me back there. Nearly got your hand bitten off but you saved me, and that made me realize, you didn't lie, not always anyways. You're an extraordinary person, Hange-san, but I don't think even you can pretend like this all the time. All these nights I carried you to your room after you fell asleep in your office and you murmured 'thanks' against my shirt, all these evenings we and the guys from our squad got drunk at the bars, all these times you made sure to check on me, when I got myself into infirmary, finding the time to do so, despite your crazy schedule... I know all of this wasn't a lie, it couldn’t be.”

He paused for a moment, staring at her with the same devotion he always did, the one that always made Hange’s throat go dry, because she had never deserved it. She – a traitor and a liar – never deserved Moblit’s kindness and affection. But even now, he didn’t seem to understand it.

“I can't hate you, Hange-san,” he murmured softly, “because I know that this betrayal hurt you as much as it did all of us."

He touched her hand, briefly squeezing it, and when Hange looked up, surprised that her vision is clouded, Moblit wiped off her unshed tears and gave her another kind smile.

"I'll come back in the evening. Please tell me if you need anything else. I can go to your room..."

"My room?" Hange startled. "You haven't cleared it out yet?"

Haven't they destroyed everything there - burned all of her papers and smashed all of her samples? Why not?

"Captain Levi forbade us from doing so," Moblit replied, and that seemingly simple revelation had Hange’s heart beating madly. Her shocked expression didn’t go unnoticed by Moblit. He chuckled heartily, muttering something to himself.

"Good day, Hange-san," he said at last, leaving her to deal with the bewildering news on her own.

***

Armin came to her next.

For the longest time, he just sat there, fiddling with something small, enclosed in his hands and out of her sight.

Hange ignored him, pretending to read one of Moblit's books and watching him from the corner of her eyes, waiting for Armin to speak up.

Was it his method of manipulation? If so, it wasn't working.

But as the silence stretched on, becoming tenser with each second, Hange struggled not to squirm in her seat. What was the meaning of this? What was he waiting for? And then, when she was ready to speak up and ask what the fuck he wanted with her, Armin finally looked up.

He rose to his feet and hid the mysterious object inside his jacket before Hange could see what it was.

"I'll have tea brought for us,” he announced. “Just wait for a minute."

"It's not like I can go anywhere," Hange muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Just a minute,” Armin repeated with a nervous laugh, and then hurriedly left.

Once the tea was brought, Armin let himself inside the cell.

"There you go," he murmured, handing Hange a white porcelain cup. It was one of the best that the scouts had, Hange knew that this tea set was only used for that rare instances, where they had to hold meetings with the highest members of the brass. And Armin decided to use this set to have a tea party with her? The hospitality was making her uncomfortable. Was that Armin’s intention too?

She accepted the cup, looking at the boy over its rim. "How are Gabi and Falco?"

"Don't worry," Armin smiled. "No harm will come their way. Their cell is not... as luxurious as yours is,” he gestured to the bed, desk and even small bookshelf that stood inside. “But they're in good hands, you can trust me on that."

"Thank you," Hange nodded and drank from the cup. Her eyes opened wide as she tasted the familiar sweet flavor. How did he—

"You should try biscuits too," Armin the pushed the plate closer to her. Hange glanced at them. Just as the tea, those biscuits were her favorite.

"We used to do it a lot, remember?" Armin said, easily deciphering the reason for her surprise. "With Mikasa, Eren and the rest of your squad..."

"I remember," Hange quietly answered. She took another sip, her throat suddenly going too dry.

Was this all a part of his plan? To make her feel as the most disgusting piece of shit in the world? Armin shouldn’t have bothered. She was quite good at it herself.

"Good times, eh?" Armin chuckled, putting a hand under his chin. “Those evening at the barracks… You told us so many things, had us hanging onto your every word. You had enough passion in you to carry on for the whole night, but Captain Levi never let us stay for too long…”

“Is that the reason for your visit?” Hange snapped, interrupting him. Every word from his mouth was making her more and more angry. She didn't need some barely adult to lecture her, trying to make her feel bad. What did he want to achieve with that? Make her realize how awful she is? She knew that already. “Did you come here to reminisce about the good old days? Don’t you have anything better to do, Armin?”

"Sorry," weird, but Armin looked genuinely apologetic. Was he always that good of an actor? Or did he learn the skill of deceit after she left? "It wasn't my intent to stir... some unwanted memories. I didn't come here for this. I actually... wanted to ask a question."

"Ask away," Hange allowed, crossing arms on her chest.

"I've been thinking about this a lot," Armin began, playing with a cup's handle. Looking like that – with his head bowed and his eyes cast down, he reminded Hange of the boy she knew four years ago. She almost believed in his sincerity. “Reiner and Berthold, Annie... they wanted to kill Eren. At the very least, take him away. Why haven't you attempted something like this? You had more than enough opportunities. Why didn't you use them?"

Why didn't she indeed. Deep down, Hange knew an answer to this question. But since she wasn't only a piece of shit, but a coward as well, she wasn’t ready to admit it, even to herself. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to Armin too.

She had an answer for him, though. A reason she fabricated to placate her superiors and give herself at least some peace of mind.

"I've never seen an Attack Titan. Kruger died before I became a part of Titan Research Society. And..." she shrugged, and put on a bright smile, her only mask and best defense. "I wanted to study him so much that I was willing to ignore my duty."

"And thunder spears?" Armin asked. "Without them, we would have lost at Shiganshina. Why did you create them?"

"Same reason," she took a biscuit in her hands, biting into it. Her lie was so good, she herself started believing in it. "I was too fascinated by your technology. Couldn't pass the opportunity to find out what your natural resources are capable of."

"Ever the scientist?" something very close to admiration shone in Armin's big blue eyes. Hange quickly looked away, not giving her guilt an opportunity to resurface. She’d have time for that later, when left alone. “Thank you for your answer, Hange-san.”

“Is that all you’ve wanted to ask?”

“No,” Armin shook his head. He shifted his eyes back down, staring into his cup. He slowly span the spoon, lost in thought.

“I know it’s unwise,” he stated, tone uncharacteristically firm for a boy Hange once knew. “And I know that others may not… agree with me on this, but I wasn’t supposed to be in this position. Commander Erwin left it to you, you’re his true successor and I…”

Couldn’t be, Hange thought. Was it another one of his games?

“Are you asking for an advice, Armin?”

“I…” he chuckled, nervously ruffling his hair. “I guess I am. It’s just— everyone looks up to me now, thinking I’ve got all the right answers, but I don’t even know what the question is supposed to be. I’m trying to deal with the mess that the attack on Liberio caused, and now everyone is coming after me for putting Eren in jail, and—” Armin rubbed his face, his shoulders sagging. Hange started to feel sorry for the boy, she could only imagine how hard it was to call shots during times like this. “After you… left, I thought I’ve learnt my lesson. I thought I knew that you can’t trust everyone. But Eren isn’t just someone, he’s my best friend.”

I was someone’s best friend too once, Hange almost said. She was someone’s best friend too, and then she betrayed him.

Would he ever be able to forgive me, she wondered.

No, Hange shut that train of thoughts immediately. He wouldn’t. He was too smart to be that kind.

“He’s a family,” Armin solemnly continued, breaking her out of the reverie. “But after what he’s done in Liberio… I can’t even look him in the eyes.”

“He changed,” Hange said, as softly as she could. She contemplated covering Armin’s hand with hers, but she doubted he’d allow it. “People do that sometimes.”

“Yes,” Armin nodded. “I’m… learning to accept that.”

“I know you still care about him. You always will.”

She will always care about him too. God, she was pathetic. A spy and a traitor and she couldn’t do even that properly, forgetting the most important rule of ‘do not get attached’.

“But you can’t trust Eren anymore,” Hange told him.

Talking about trust? Well, wasn’t she a hypocrite. Another one of her many, many flaws.

“I know,” he sadly agreed. “But Eren is not the only one, who worries me. There is also a matter of Zeke Yeager…” Armin reminded.

She smashed the biscuit in her fist. Zeke, the bastard had played them all. And to think she used to admire him… More than just admire him.

“Don’t let Eren and Zeke converse,” she warned grimly. “Under any circumstances. Knowing what Zeke is capable of, and witnessing what Eren is capable of, it would be best if you separate them.”

“Separate them…” Armin mumbled, biting his thumb.

“Get Zeke out of the inner city,” Hange advised. “As far as you can. Perhaps…” she scratched her chin, thinking. “Perhaps, have him hidden in the Forest of Giant Trees.”

“Huh… that’s a very sound idea,” Armin slowly nodded, some tension leaving his body. That bright light returned to his eyes, and Hange relaxed at the sight of it. Seeing some of his worries disappear made her feel just a tiniest bit better about herself. “I can appoint Captain Levi as Zeke’s guardian, he won’t be able to make a single move then.”

“You do that.”

Just at the mention of him, all of her good mood had disappeared. It was a good thing that Armin decided to get him out of the city too. Perhaps, her heart wouldn’t get completely shattered then.

“Thank you so much,” Armin finally smiled, looking up at Hange.

With his puffy cheeks and big, bright eyes, he looked young, she couldn’t help but note. He was still just a boy. And already he had a burden on his shoulders Hange wasn’t sure she herself would be able to carry.

“I know it may not mean much to you, but you’re doing good, Armin. He—” Hange paused, clearing her throat. She still couldn’t say hisname. Commander Erwin Smith was an enemy, a biggest threat to their mission. But at the same time… he was a man she followed for five years of her life. He was a man she admired like no other. Erwin Smith was a friend.

And she missed him terribly.

“He would have been proud of you,” she finished hoarsely.

“Hange-san,” Armin rose, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know Commander Erwin as much as you did, but I think… I think he would have forgiven you. If that’s any consolation, I already did.”

Fuck. Hange turned her face away, hiding her eyes. Starting with memories of their time years ago, bringing up Erwin, forgiving her… Was Armin so determined to make her cry?

“Thank you for your time,” Armin said at last, leaving the cell.

As soon as the door closed after him, she left the tears flow.

***

Then came Sasha. Naturally, with Connie in tow.

With wide eyes Hange stared at the variety of meals the pair brought inside her cell.

"Um..." she gawked at it, feeling utterly lost. "What is this?"

"It's food!" Sasha beamed.

"Yeah, I can see that but... What's the occasion?"

"I just thought they don't feed you in here," Sasha answered, skeptically looking Hange over. "It doesn't look like they do. You seem thinner than before."

The sight of Sasha with hands on her hips and her lips pressed together in displeasure made Hange feel inexplicably warm. She desperately tried to fight off a smile, but in Sasha's presence it proved to be an almost impossible feat.

Ah, well, she was always her favorite...

"Moblit takes care of my meals actually."

He came to her every morning and evening, bringing warm food and engaging conversations. His quiet, soft voice was the only respite from the demons in her head.

"Pfft," Sasha rolled her eyes. "And you're calling that food? This is food!" she gestured at the plates they’ve carried inside. "Just try it, Hange-san, it's delicious!"

"It's from Niccolo!" Connie said, grinning just as brightly. "He's a real master."

"And our friend!" Sasha added.

“Something more than a friend for Sasha," Connie corrected.

Red hue instantly appeared on Sasha's cheeks, and Hange couldn't resist anymore - she snickered in her palm.

"Let's eat before it gets cold," Sasha muttered, avoiding everyone's eyes.

As she busied herself with serving the table, Hange exchanged a look with Connie. The boy winked. Hange hid a smile.

As they ate, Sasha and Connie entertained Hange with stories of their everyday life. They told her about the time they pulled a prank on Jean and almost made him believe he grew ten inches taller overnight and spoke of an arm wrestling match between Mikasa and Levi that Levi, to his immense shame, had lost.

They talked so animatedly, described everything with such vivid details that Hange felt like she actually had been present when all of it had happened.

Truthfully, she desperately wanted to.

"Thanks for the meal, guys," breathing heavily, Hange sat back in a chair. She turned her face away, unable to even stare at the food. Sasha was right, the food Moblit brought her - as good as it was - didn't compare to Niccolo's. As a result, she was completely stuffed. "It was delicious."

"And talking with you had been fun," Connie said.

"It's good to see you again," Sasha admitted with a kind smile that warmed Hange’s heart.

Sasha and Connie managed to make feel better than she had been in days since Liberio. Truth be told, they made her feel better than she had been since leaving the island all these years ago.

The kids rose from their seats, moving in perfect sync.

Just like twins, Hange thought with another smile.

They moved around the table, picking up the plates.

"You go, Sasha," Connie spoke as soon as they finished. "I'll catch up with you."

"Eh?" Sasha frowned. "What do you—"

"Go," he gave her a push, still refusing to meet her gaze. "I need a moment with Hange-san."

"And why must you throw me away..." Sasha complained , shaking her head. She gave Connie another look, filled with suspicion, huffed in annoyance and then walked out of the dungeons, leaving them alone.

Connie waited until the sound of a large metal door closing was heard and then looked up at Hange.

"Hange-san," the boy seemed a bit nervous. Hange wondered about the reason for a sudden change in his demeanor. She wanted to ask, but Connie suddenly appeared beside her. Without giving her time to react, he wrapped his arms around her. Hange stood still, not knowing how to react. "Thank you for saving Sasha,” he whispered. “I don't know what I would have done without her."

Oh god, again? Were those kids going to make her cry again? She had to resist it. She was a Marleyan soldier, one of the strongest and toughest they had. She could do it.

But then Connie had the gall to press his forehead to her shoulder, sniffling quietly, and Hange felt her resolve shutter.

She quickly wiped at her eyes. "I'm glad I managed to get there in time,” she said, more honest that she had been in a long time. “This world would have lost a lot of light if Sasha was gone."

"My world would be completely dark," Connie agreed, letting go of her. He took a step back, looking at Hange with a wistful smile that reminded her that he wasn’t the same naive boy anymore. None of them were. "Thank you again. I meant it when I say it’s good to have you back. We’ve all missed you terribly, Hange-san.”

Thankfully, he left before her face became covered in tears once again.

***

Jean came to her too. Many times, actually. He paced around the cell, he touched the bars, pulled on them.

But he never entered.

He tried to be sneaky about it too, coming down to the dungeons well after midnight. But his steps were too heavy, and Hange was a spy, and before that – a soldier. She was trained to be a light sleeper practically since birth.

However, she said nothing. Giving him the time he needed was the least she could do. Besides, she knew Jean. The boy was not a coward, she knew he’d certainly come around.

And on the fourth day since the Raid on Liberio, he finally did.

He marched inside her cell, looking like a man going to war.

"Why did you do it?" he slammed his hands on the table, right under Hange's nose.

She slowly looked up from a book she was reading. "You have to be more specific, Jean. I did a lot of things."

"Sasha!" he said with barely conceived rage. "Why did you save her?"

Hange put the book down and crossed her legs at the ankles. She looked at Jean carefully, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't want me to?"

"That's not it!" Jean growled. He shook his head and then continued in a much calmer voice. "You know that's not what I meant.”

Plopping down on a chair next to Hange, he hid his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "I just don't understand it..." he muttered. "We probably wouldn't have hurt those kids even if they did harm Sasha. So why did you do it? Why did you save her?"

Hange sighed. The answer was fairly simple. But everything it entailed – not so much.

"I didn't want her to die."

Jeans studied her pensively. "Isn't that what every Marleyan wishes for? To kill as much Eldians as they can? They sent you here with the same reason, no?"

Hange gave him a sharp look. "No. My mission was to survey and investigate. I wasn't ordered to harm or kill you."

Truth was - she probably wouldn't be able to, even if ordered.

Getting too soft, Zoe, a voice that resembled Zeke's sneered in her head. Hange ignored it, swatting it away like an irritating fly.

"God, you really are making this so hard for me," Jean mumbled, shaking his head.

"What exactly?"

"Hating you," Jean replied. "I spent four years hating you. You and Berthold and Annie and Reiner... I despised them for betraying us, for lying and pretending, but you... Your betrayal shook me to the core. I thought I was ready for it, you know?" he looked at her, staring right into her eyes and showing her all of his raw emotions. Hange hated herself just a little more for causing him so much distress. "I thought that after Reiner and Berthold, nothing can hurt me. But I trusted you so much. I respected and admired you. Between unwavering Commander Erwin and aloof Captain Levi, I thought you're the only one who gives a damn about us."

Hange stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Tell him that he wasn't wrong? That, despite everything - her orders, her beliefs and upbringing - she still cared? A lot of good her care did.

“I looked up to you, you know?" Jean continued, gazing up at the ceiling with a bitter smile. "Thought you're a real badass. Well, you still are, for what it's worth. Managed to fool us all, I couldn't believe it, when Captain told us that you left. No one could. Commander Erwin even wanted to call off the expedition to Shiganshina."

Erwin wanted to call off the expedition? The stoic, cold-blooded Erwin? She had trouble believing it was true.

And her heart was having trouble shouldering all that pain. She really was a piece of shit, wasn’t she? She played with their feelings, betrayed those, who actually cared about her, and for what? For a nation whose only motivation was greed, for a war that was justified solely by prejudices?

“He didn’t name another successor, by the way,” Jean revealed. “Technically, we still don’t have a Commander. I guess no one could fill those shoes, except you.”

“Please,” Hange scoffed. “I would have done a terrible job.”

“You’re selling yourself too short,” Jean protested, shaking his head. “Commander Erwin himself believed in you. That's gotta count for something."

"Erwin didn't know me."

It was Jean's turn to scoff. "Are we talking about the same Erwin Smith? The myth, the legend?" he rolled his eyes. "He may not know everything, but he knew you. Enough to entrust his legacy to you. You're not as bad as I was making you out to be, Hange-san. Actually," Jean tilted his head, his eyes softening. "You're not as bad as you think you are."

Hange turned her face away, hiding from his intent gaze. Jean’s words stroke a chord she didn’t she think she still possessed. So pathetic. After all these years, and she still yearned for acceptance.

"You never did any harm to us,” Jean went on. “Never hurt us, at least not physically. You helped us a lot actually. Your research and inventions… Have you realized what you were doing? I think some part of you certainly has."

"Besides, after all that shit that's been going on, we can't exactly be called good guys either,” he sighed, pushing the hair back from his face. “Maybe, you and I have more in common that I'd like to think.”

Again, Hange was at a loss for words. Should she thank him for making her feel better? No, she was already pitiful enough.

"Just something to think about," Jean finished, getting to his feet.

He fixed his uniform, brushing the invisible dust from his shoulders. Hange stole a glance at him, marveling at how much he had changed. If she had been his commander, she’d be so proud of him. He had grown into a smart, kind man. Perhaps, a little too kind, she thought, recalling their conversation.

"I've never thought I'd say this," just before leaving, Jean turned to Hange, his hand gripping the bar of her cell. "But I'm glad our paths have crossed again. It looks like there are still lots of things I can learn from you."

***

At last, Levi came.

Hange didn't hear him enter the dungeons. She was in the middle of reading a book when she got a strange, prickling feeling. She looked up, almost jumping as she instantly met Levi's grey eyes. They seemed especially cold this time. Have they always been like this? She was sure they weren’t. At least, not when they were directed at her.

As their gazes connected, he said nothing. He continued to watch her, and the weight of his gaze was so heavy, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Erwin is dead," he finally said. Impossible, but his eyes became even colder. "Killed at Shiganshina. Did you know that?"

"I read the report."

She wasn't present at the battle, Zeke had advised against that.

"It's too dangerous for you, Professor," he had said. "Attack Titan, Ackermans and those scouts, it would be best if you sit this one out. It'd be a shame if we lost a mind as brilliant as yours. Besides," his lips curled into smirk then, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes. To this day, Hange wasn't sure if he had been joking or not. "You lived with them for so long, your feelings are compromised. I'm sure you're filled with desire to kill them all."

Funny thing, Hange thought back then. Because if she had been thrusted into that battle - she wasn't sure she'd be able to fight for the side she was supposed to.

"In a report?" Levi sneered. "Your buddy Zeke must have bragged to hell and back about it."

Levi's words, even filled with so much distain and mockery, weren't that far from the truth. The voyage back to Marley had not been a happy affair. They almost lost Zeke, they almost lost Reiner, they've lost Berthold. Sweet, timid Berthold, Hange liked him so much. After Pieck's titan, his colossal was the most intriguing test subject. Soft and caring Bertold died, and she could only imagine how hard it was for Reiner. The poor boy didn’t speak throughout the whole journey back home.

“After being away for so long, you’d think he’d be happy that the mission is finally over,” Pieck noted, whispering her observations in Hange’s ear. “But then again,” she turned to her, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You don’t look so excited either.”

Hange paid her no mind then, even if Pieck had suspected something, what of it? She was going home, and those Eldians – those people she lived with for five years – didn’t matter anymore. But Reiner did, and Hange watched him, intently, wondering what she could do to make him feel better. She wanted to comfort him, she even approached him and words "I know how it feels" almost slipped down her tongue. But she stopped herself at the very last moment. I know how it feels. Did she really?

She lost people before - a tall blonde man with a goofy smile who gave the best hugs, a blond woman with the most infectious laughter, the adorable petite girl who always looked at her with stars in her eyes, a cheerful young man in glasses who copied most of her gimmicks, the serious brunette who followed her every command - with every loss a part of her soul died, but could she really call them friends? They did not know her, and if they did, they would have never accepted her.

He wouldn’t have accepted you too, a malicious voice whispered in her ear.

The proof of that statement was staring her down at the very same moment.

Unable to escape Levi’s seething gaze, Hange remembered what Zeke had told her then, when she regrouped with them at Shiganshina.

“You did not mention those scouts are that crazy. To sacrifice so many people just for a chance of victory?” Zeke had scoffed, cleaning his glasses. “I just can’t understand it.”

You never will, Hange thought back then. Those brave, young soldiers. Her heart bled for them.

“And that Ackerman,” he continued. “To think they call me a beast titan. I thought I was done for. All that rage and blind hatred and all of it because of some Commander.”

“Erwin Smith.”

“What?”

“His name was Erwin Smith,” Hange repeated, her voice brimming with emotion. She blinked away tears. She would not cry, not right now. Not when Zeke was looking at her so closely. “And he wasn’t just some Commander.”

She left Zeke’s side quickly afterwards, afraid that she’d be unable to hold back her own rage. Some Commander? Erwin was much more than that. Even as Marleyan, she was able to understand that.

“Did you know about Mike too?” Levi asked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. “And about Nanaba?”

She did, of course, she did. Zeke had sent her the letter, retelling everything he did to Mike in horrid, morbid details. Reading that letter, Hange struggled not to throw up. She could almost hear his screams, could almost see the horror in his eyes.

To not be simply eaten by a titan, but getting torn apart by them? Hange couldn’t imagine a fate more horrible.

The terror of it all didn’t leave her for the longest time. It was only in his arms – in Levi’s strong, gentle arms – that she managed to find some respite. She hated herself for it, but when he wiped her tears with his lips, whispering soft, soothing words in her ear, she could almost pretend to forget.

“And about Ragako?”

Amidst her inner turmoil, Hange missed the moment when Levi entered the cell. Now he was standing right beside her, looming over with dark, angry expression.

“Did you know about those people? About what was going to happen to them?” Levi wasn’t an expressive man, but his eyes showed it all. In a life where she pretended to be a mad scientist and a survey corps’ squad leader, she prided herself at being one of the few, who could read those eyes. But she could see nothing inside them right now. Levi’s face was completely blank, his emotions closed off. “Did you know what was going to happen to Connie’s mother?”

That was it, the final nail in her coffin.

And to think that just the other day, the boy was thanking her. Her, who condemned his mother, who destroyed his home.

Hange closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. She gripped the chair under her tightly, quelling the trembling. She would not break, not in front of him.

“What do you want, Levi?” she glanced at him beneath her hair. “What do you wish to hear? That I reveled in every death? That I sneaked out to the island to dance at Erwin’s grave?”

Levi pressed his lips in a line, a deep scowl forming on his forehead.

It was the same expression he had when looking at Zeke, Hange realized.

She thought her heart couldn’t break anymore. Apparently, he was wrong.

“I’m just wondering,” he said. “If there was ever anything sincere in you. Have you even felt something? After all these deaths, do you at least feel guilty?”

“If that’s what you think of me?” she looked him in the eyes, surprised to see something coming alive inside them. “If I’m a monster you think I am, what was the point of bringing me here? Why haven’t you just killed me? Surely that would have given you some peace of mind.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi surged forward, grabbing her by the collar. His grey eyes bore in hers with intensity that she had rarely seen. Inside them was an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. “Shut your stupid mouth, four-eyes. Do you really not get it? After everything you put me through, after all these fucking lies, I’d still rather die than harm you.”

He pushed her away, turning on his heels and storming out of the cell. To the sound of his quick, heavy steps, Hange slowly slid to the ground. Her knees gave under her, as she realized – it was not anger that she had seen in Levi’s eyes.

It was pain.

“Fuck,” she murmured, hiding her face in her hands.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi lovely people! i hope you are all having a great day! drink some water! love you all!

Masterlist

Chapter 13

Spencer got a call from you one morning when he was leaving his apartment to pick Jo up for school.

“Spencer,” your voice sounded deeper than normal.

“I’m sick,” you groaned.

“Aw, I’m sorry. What are your symptoms?” he asked.

“Stuffy nose, fever, headache, and a sore throat,” you sniffled.

“Could you take Jo for the weekend after you pick her up today? I don’t want her getting infected too.”

“Of course, do you need me to get you anything?” he asked.

“No thanks, you’re sweet but I’m fine. Stay away from my room, germaphobe,” you giggled slightly.

“You’re going to have to get Jo all ready for school. I just knocked on her door to wake her up. I didn’t want to take any chances,” you informed him.

“Okay, feel better, sweetheart,” Spencer said.

You made a kissing sound through the phone before hanging up, presumably to go back to bed.

-

Spencer walked inside to find Jo sitting in front of the TV.

“Mommy isn’t coming out of her room,” she stated.

“I know, she’s sick so she is protecting us from all the icky germs. You are going to spend the weekend at Daddy’s place,” he picked Jo up, bringing her into the kitchen and pouring her a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

“Eat up,” he said, pushing the bowl in front of her after adding milk and a spoon, “then Daddy is going to do your hair before we go.”

While Jo ate, Spencer packed her lunch and wrote a little note:

The word ‘dinosaur’ means ‘terrible lizard’ in Greek. See you later, Princess! Eat all of your cucumber slices!

Love,

Daddy

He sketched a little heart doodle to finish off the note, folding it and slipping it into Jo’s lunch box.

Spencer called Hotch as he was carrying Jo out to the car.

“Hey, Hotch. Can I have the day off?” he asked.

“Sure, Reid. You have plenty of sick days saved up. Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is sick so I’ve got Jo for the weekend and I want to clean up my apartment and do some grocery shopping beforehand,” Spencer explained, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he buckled Jo in.

“Alright, see you Monday, Reid. Tell Jo I say hi,” he said.

“Will do,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Uncle Aaron says hi,” he said to Jo.

“Hi Uncle Aaron!” Jo exclaimed even though the phone call had already ended.

-

After dropping Jo off, Spencer drove to the grocery store.

He picked up some snacks and food to replenish his empty cabinets so Jo wouldn’t starve at his apartment. He was going to attempt to make them spaghetti and meatballs for dinner but he picked up a bag of dino nuggets as a backup.

On the way home to his apartment, he stopped back at your house and walked inside, calling your phone as he set grocery bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Hey, I’m back. I know you said to stay away but I wanted to drop off a few things,” Spencer put the phone on speaker as he began to put away the groceries, “I got you some oranges because their vitamin C will help your immune system. I got you popsicles and ice cream to help with your fever and sore throat. I also got you some more tea and soup. And, I picked up some spring rolls for you that you can reheat whenever you are hungry.”

“You are the best. Thank you, Spence,” you sleepily replied.

“I don’t know what medicine you have been taking so far but after examining the ingredients of different over-the counter medicines in the pharmacy aisle, I found two that I think will work best to fend off your symptoms if taken together,” Spencer said, walking upstairs.

“I’m leaving them both outside your door with a glass of water,” he knelt down to place the pill bottles and water on the ground.

“If I’m up for it later, can I facetime you and Jo?” you asked hopefully.

“I will figure out how to use that just for you,” Spencer smiled.

“Just swipe to accept it like a normal phone call except then I will be able to see both of your beautiful little faces,” you giggled.

“Okay, try to get some rest, drink lots of water, and try to eat something if you can,” Spencer encouraged.

“See you later, Spence.”

-

After spending the rest of the day cleaning his apartment and putting away stacks of books that were on the floor so Jo wouldn’t trip, Spencer went to go pick her up.

“Here, Daddy,” she handed him a purple piece of paper with lots of glitter glue on it as she came running out of the classroom into his awaiting arms.

“Another Jo original?” he beamed, “Is this me, you, and Mommy again?”

Jo nodded, “We need one for your fridge too.”

“How thoughtful,” Spencer lifted the girl up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I went back home to check on Mommy and I packed you a bag of clothes and your favorite toys so you should be all set for the weekend but we can go back if we need to,” he explained to Jo as he carried her out to the car.

-

Spencer had managed to make him and Jo spaghetti even though it was just from a box. He even asked Rossi for his meatball recipe and made those from scratch. Jo cleared her plate so she seemed to enjoy the meal or she was just sparing her Daddy’s feelings.

They were watching a National Geographic dinosaur documentary when your contact photo came up on Spencer’s phone screen. It was a picture of you that he had insisted on taking on your date because you “looked too beautiful to not admire forever in photo form”. His phone lockscreen had also been changed from just a generic scenic landscape photo to a picture that Penelope had taken of you, Spencer, and Jo at Rossi’s party.

Spencer held the phone up and swiped accept.

“Hi!” you smiled, waving through the phone, you were still laying in bed.

“Mommy!” Jo exclaimed, standing up on the couch and sitting in Spencer’s lap to see better.

“Hi, Baby J! How is Daddy’s place?” you asked.

“Good! We had spaghetti and meatballs and now we are watching a dinosaur show and Daddy bought oreos,” Jo giggled, holding up a half-eaten cookie with crumbs on her face.

“Wow he’s really spoiling you,” you laughed, “Daddy brought me spring rolls and they are helping me get all better,” you smiled, taking a bite of one of them.

“Glad you are feeling better, sweetheart,” Spencer grinned.

“I’ll give it another day but you and Jo may be able to come back on Sunday after I disinfect everything,” you replied.

“Jo, say bye bye to Mommy so she can finish her dinner and go to bed,” Spencer prompted her.

“Night night, Mommy. Love you,” she waved at the camera, blowing a kiss.

“Bye Jo. Love you too! Be good for Daddy!” you waved back, “Night, Spence.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Spencer smiled, ending the call.

Twenty minutes later, Jo was out cold in Spencer’s lap, cuddled into his chest. Spencer smiled softly, picking her up and bringing her to his bed.

“Sweet dreams, Jo,” he whispered, giving her his usual goodnight kiss on the forehead.

[casifer-is-king]

Private Investigator

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rated: T

Warnings: some language, infidelity.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.

That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.

"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."

"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.

Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.

“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.

“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”

Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.

Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.

“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”

The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.

"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."

Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.

"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.

"Not yet," you reply.

"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."

“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”

Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.

You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”

“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.

“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.

Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”

“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.

“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.

“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.

“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”

“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.

“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.

Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.

"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.

"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."

"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.

As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.

Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.

You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."

You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.

It's five days later that you get a text.

Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.

You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.

You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.

He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.

No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.

You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.

Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.

“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”

“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.

You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.

Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.

How have you been doing? He asks.

As well as can be expected, you text back.

Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.

It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.

The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.

You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.

You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.

The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.

You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.

Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.

He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.

And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.

Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.

Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.

Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.

Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.

“Hey,” Frankie greets.

“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.

“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.

“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”

Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”

“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”

And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.

“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.

It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.

It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.

Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.

Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.

He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.

It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?

Finally my day off lol, you text back.

Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?

Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?

Sounds good. I'll see you then.

You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.

The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”

“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”

Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”

You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.

“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.

Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”

The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.

“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.

“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.

Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”

His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.

You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.

“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.

“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.

“Of course, hermosa.”

“Why did you become a private investigator?”

The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.

“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.

“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”

You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”

Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”

The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.

Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”

“Oh really? And what was yours?”

“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.

“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.

“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.

After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.

Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.

Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”

Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.

In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.

His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.

“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.

“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”

“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.

The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.

Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.

Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.

Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.

“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.

“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.

“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you gonna?”

“We can open them together,” you suggest.

But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.

Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?

His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.

You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.

That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?

Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.

“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”

“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”

“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”

“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”

“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”

“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”

Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”

“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.

While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.

Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.

I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.

Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.

With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.

It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.

Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.

Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?

Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.

Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.

You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?

You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?

Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.

She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.

A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.

He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.

Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.

Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.

Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.

When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.

He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.

Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.

Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.

Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.

Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.

You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.

“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”

“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”

His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.

“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.

“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.

“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”

Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.

You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.

Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”

“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.

“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.

It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”

“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”

✨✨Part 2✨✨

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (5)

(The next update is here! Feel free to check out the mini series connected to this fic called Journal Entries. I will warn anyone who checks it out that I’m probably not going to continue the entries, though.)

Ch.1 / Ch.4 / Ch.6

Chapter 5: Late Night Visits

Felix idly watched the elevator light flicker from circle to circle as he reached the top floor. He tugged lightly at the green color of the shirt that Marinette had given him, preparing for his mother’s overbearing questions. She’d been trying to get him to wear something other than his suits for at least a year. When she saw him in this attire, she was going to have a fit.

Felix blew out a sigh. Normally, he would have changed back to his other clothes by now- Mme Sabine did an excellent job of cleaning them and tucking them into his bag, neatly folded -but Marinette told everyone that they could keep their outfits. After an offer like that, it seemed rude to change. 

The elevator emitted a soft *ding* to inform him that he’d arrived on his selected floor, and Felix drew in a deep breath, watching the golden-colored doors slide open. Here it comes.

The family penthouse was shrouded in darkness, save for the flames that flickered in the fireplace of the open living. It cast a soft, orange glow on the furniture and floors, and in the midst of the distorted dimness, Felix could make out his mother lounging leisurely on one of the light blue couches. It wasn’t unlike her to keep the house lights off while he or Father was away. She claimed that it helped think and relax. 

When the elevator doors rattled closed, his mother sat up from the couch and turned to him, her eyes bright and curious. A part of him hoped that she couldn’t spot his new outfit in the darkness, but that hope was quickly dashed as she hopped up with a gasp.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaimed, sounding like a child on Christmas morning. Felix barely had time to set his bag down before she got to him, pawing up and down to study the fabric. He briefly wondered how a woman who wore six inch heels could move with such speed and agility.

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! Is it my birthday? Are you really my son? What happened to your old clothes? I thought you were going to visit Marinette’s house!” She flicked the lights on to get a better look, and Felix squinted as his eyes adjusted.

“Yes, I’m really your son,” He replied firstly, taking a step away from her incessant touches, “And I did go to Marinette’s house. That’s why I needed new clothes.”

Bridgette frowned, both at his step away from her and his comment. “What happened to your old clothes? Did Claude spill something on them again?”

“You could say that Claude was the Catalyst, yes.” He grumbled, the memory of Claude’s mocking laughter flicking through his mind. 

“Well, where are your other clothes then? Should I call M. Bernarde over to clean them?” 

Felix shook his head and gestured to his bag on the floor. “No need. Mme Sabine has already taken care of it.”

“Mme Sabine?” Bridgette parroted curiously. She knelt down and flipped over the brown, leather flap to pull out the clothes.

“Ah. Marinette’s mother.” Felix explained. “She insisted that I refer to her as ‘Mme Sabine’.” 

A smile graced Bridgette’s lips as she stood, tucking Felix’s clothes in her arms. “That’s very sweet of her.”

Felix nodded and knelt down to grab his bag as well. “M. Tom and Mme Sabine both have an uncanny resemblance towards you when it comes to their behavior.”

“Oh?” Bridgette’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “So what I’m hearing is: Marinette’s parents are wonderful people.”

Felix chuckled, flashing her an indulgent smile. “Of course, Mother.”

Bridgette grinned and ruffled a hand through his hair. “I definitely raised you right. Do you want some tea? I can make some while you go change. I know that’s not your usual preference of clothing.”

Felix hummed at the offer, reaching up to touch his collar again. “Tea sounds nice, but I think I’ll keep the outfit.”

It was already ten o’clock at night. If he were to change into anything, it would be a pair of pajamas, and he wasn’t in the mood for that yet. There were still things that he needed to jot down in his notebook before settling down for the evening.

Bridgette’s eyes bulged out of her head. “You mean you actually like the outfit?”

Felix shrugged. “The clothes are comfortable. It might not be my usual attire, but it’s also not unbearable. Besides, going up to change now would only be a waste of energy.”

Bridgette placed a hand on her hip and breathed out an incredulous laugh. “If I had known that going to Marinette’s house was all it would take for you to break your ‘suits’ streak, I would have you sent you there ages ago.”

Felix playfully rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be happy that I dress well? Father’s quite pleased with it.”

Bridgette clicked her tongue, setting his clothes on the dining room table next to them to cross her arms. “Yes, that’s because your father is just as uptight as you are. You both need to loosen up a little.”

Felix chuckled. “Where is Father? I thought he was supposed to be home tonight.”

“He’s up in his study.” Bridgette answered, tilting her head towards the stairs. “There’s an important meeting at the bank tomorrow, and he wanted to prepare.”

Felix nodded. That was understandable. “What kind of tea are you going to make?”

Bridgette perked up at the reminder and spun on her heel to head towards the kitchen, her cream-colored dress flowing around her legs with the action. “I was thinking of Iron Goddess, but is there something different you might want?”

Felix shook his head as he followed behind her. “Iron Goddess sounds marvelous. I haven’t had that in a while.”

Bridgette moved to the stove and turned it on. Then she pulled out her flower-decorated kettle and set it on the burner. Felix stood next to her, quietly watching her pour the needed amount of water into the kettle. 

“So tell me how Claude managed to ruin your clothes for the twentieth time.” She said after a moment while handing Felix the dried, tea leaves.

Felix took the tea leaves and fished out a measuring spoon to scoop the accurate amount. “Twenty-second, actually, and I’m not entirely sure what happened.”

One moment, they were trying to put flour on the dough. The next moment, the flour was on them. Not the dough. He remembered everyone coughing up flour, and the white clouding his vision as the substance floated around the room. He remembered Claude laughing and Allan sighing in defeat when he finally got hit. Allegra had pinched the bridge of her nose at one point, undoubtedly asking herself what she would do with all of them.

Then he remembered Marinette’s face, flushed from embarrassment, as she scrambled to take the flour bag off of him, and her giddy smile, moments later, as she threw the bag onto Allan. 

“M. Tom was teaching us how to make croissants.” Felix said, starting at the first thing he could clearly recall. “When he left to deal with an unruly customer, Marinette attempted to take over the lesson. Unfortunately, she didn’t anticipate Claude’s tumultuous mannerisms.”

A laugh escaped Bridgette. “Can anyone truly prepare for Claude?”

Felix shook his head. “Not that I’ve seen.”

He tipped his measuring spoon into the infuser, letting the leaves fall into it. Then he reached across the stove and dropped the infuser into the kettle.

“Claude inevitably spilled a fourth of their flour bag onto himself and Allegra, and when Marinette went to fetch more for the rest of us, she tripped. I tried to catch her, but the flour bag was too heavy to handle. So we both ended up falling and getting covered as well.”

Bridgette snorted. “How chivalrous of you. It’s nice to know you’re fond enough of Marinette to try to help her when she needs it.”

“I didn’t do anything special.” Felix said, a twinge of irritation stirring in the back of his mind. She acted as though he let people fall in front of him on a regular basis. 

..of course, he did watch Claude land face first into the cement one day without so much as twitching. But in his defense, the brunette had been pushing Felix to the limit that day. He thought it only fair to let the boy suffer a little. 

“Anyone decent would have done the same thing.” Felix added, referring back to Marinette’s trip.

Bridgette nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true.. So you’re saying you’re not fond of her, then?”

“No, I-” Felix cut himself short, realizing what he was about to say. 

It’s not that he disliked Marinette. She was a kind-hearted person and, as of right now, hasn’t done anything to displease him. But for some reason, the word ‘fond’ sounded.. too strong. Too incriminating. 

His mother’s bubbly laughter broke him from his thoughts.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m only teasing. I know you enjoy Marinette’s company.” She said, lightly tapping her fingers under his chin. The assurance didn’t appease Felix in the slightest. In fact, it only birthed a new form of discomfort. Why did the thought of enjoying Marinette’s company make him squirm? Wasn’t it normal to enjoy someone’s company once you were around them for a while? 

“So how did you get the new outfit?” Bridgette inquired next. “Did you have to stop baking and go on a last minute shopping spree?”

“No, Marinette had plenty of outfits.” Felix answered, gladly accepting the subject change. “It was quite impressive. She’d told us that she was a fashion major, but I didn’t realize that she was actually making clothes at this moment and time.”

“Wait, what?!” Bridgette blanched, her eyes blowing wide as she straightened. “You’re telling me that she made those clothes? The ones you’re wearing right now.”

Felix barely managed a nod before Bridgette swooped down to inspect his clothes all over again.

“You’re kidding!” She gasped, feeling over the seams and fabrics. “You didn’t tell me that she was a fashion designer! And a talented one, no less!”

“Didn’t I?” Felix replied, subtly leaning away from his mother.

Bridgette shook her head. “No, you didn’t! You’ve told me that she’s a new student who got in on a scholarship, that she lives in a bakery, that she’s clumsy, and that she’s somehow anxious and level-headed at the same time, but I’ve never heard about her aspirations towards being a fashion designer.”

“Huh..” Felix mumbled. The fact must have slipped his mind earlier. “Well, that’s how she attained the scholarship. She’s majoring in fashion. Claude, Allegra, and Allan all got outfits from her as well.”

“That’s incredible..” Bridgette muttered. “She must really be something.”

Felix nodded, being inclined to agree. No one got an early scholarship to Rosemary Highschool without having an immense amount of drive and talent. The clothes he wore now proved that.

A sharp whistle cut into their conversation, and Bridgette swiftly moved back to the stove to turn it off. She then grabbed two mugs from the counter- one deep green and one deep blue -and poured some of the scalding liquid from the kettle into both cups.

“So what happened after everyone changed?” She asked, getting back to the original topic.

“Nothing much.” Felix admitted. He took the dark green mug that Bridgette offered him with a ‘thanks’ before adding, “Marinette took our clothes to Mme Sabine for her to wash them, and the rest of the visit was spent playing video games or talking.”

“Did you play games as well?” 

An involuntary snort left Felix’s lips, and he shook his head. “Certainly not. I looked around Marinette’s room instead.”

“Oh?” His mother scooted closer to him with a sly smile, the same way she always did when she expected to hear something ‘juicy’. “Did you find anything interesting?”

The treasure chest of birthday gifts resurfaced in Felix’s mind, along with the card that he’d found.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He lied. It wasn’t his place to disclose such things, especially when he hadn’t been told directly about them. Felix wanted to learn more about Marinette, not share her private life with the world. “She seems to have quite an obsession with the color pink, though.”

Bridgette laughed. “Really? How bad?”

“Well, it’s not as bad as your infatuation with sky blue,” Felix said light heartedly, “but it still covered almost everything in her room. I was shocked that her hand-made outfits weren’t all pink as well.”

Bridgette hummed. “You do need to have some variety in the fashion world. Otherwise your clothes will become bland and predictable.”

She took a small sip of her tea and sank against the counter, reveling in the warmth it provided. 

“So how do you think Marinette’s fairing in the group so far?” she asked after a moment.

Felix took a sip of his own tea as he mulled over his answer. “She certainly knows how to hold her own. Allegra and Claude have already pledged their loyalty to her, claiming that she’s family even though we’ve only known her a week.”

“You think they’re rushing things?”

“I think they’re impulsive and rash as always.” Felix shrugged. “Marinette can be a great asset to our group, but that’s hardly a reason to devote themselves to her.”

Intrigue flashed in Bridgette’s deep blue eyes. “So you think she can make the group better?”

“Currently, yes.” Felix responded. “The way she interacts with each of us brings a strange sense of balance to the group. She adds this splash of color that we’ve apparently been lacking.”

It’s something he’s noticed often in the past week. Marinette will listen intently to Claude’s stories and ideas, therefore sedating his chaotic atmosphere. She’ll compliment Allegra’s styles and discuss compelling topics with the blonde, easily satisfying the girl’s need to dig up controversy and drag it to light for the sake of a good argument. She’ll even share looks and teasing comments with Allan, praising him for his photography skills and giving him the constant validation that causes the boy to smile just a little bit more. Her routine of asking Felix’s opinion and actually taking it into consideration admittedly soothes his ever-rising temper as well.

In a way, she kept them grounded, and that was something that their group desperately needed if you asked him.

“Wow~” Bridgette sang, taking a long sip of her tea. “That’s a lot of praise coming from you, Felix.”

Something turned inside Felix’s chest at the comment, and his grip on his mug tightened. Why did he feel as though he had been caught for something? Nothing he said had been untrue. 

“I’m merely stating observations.”

“Of course.” Bridgette muttered into her cup, an air of amusement in her voice. “Observations.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at his mother. Her sly smile told him that she wasn’t quite agreeing with him in the way that she said. Almost like she was insinuating something or knew something that he didn’t. Bridgette was known for drawing irrational conclusions, though, so he didn’t dare ask what that something was. Felix simply took another sip of his tea and continued telling her the smaller details of his visit. 

~~~~~~

Evening in Paris, a time where the streets are empty and the lights are full. The city of love always had a way of illuminating the night sky with its abundance of lanterns and street lamps. Couples could often be found strolling along, enjoying the romantic atmosphere, but tonight, company was scarce. Only the occasional car divulged the fact that the drowsy town was not quite asleep. 

Chat Noir didn’t blame the civilians for staying inside. The frigid month of January was tolerable in the morning, but at night, the frosted winds had no mercy. He tugged up his scarf to compensate for the chill that nipped at his cheeks and nose, and although it did little to help, he continued skipping across the rooftops. Nathalie would be checking on him in roughly an hour to make sure he was asleep. That gave him roughly thirty to forty-five minutes to get to Marinette’s house, convince her to transfer back to Dupont, and get home. 

Well, he didn’t expect to convince her fully- Marinette can be extremely stubborn -but he could lay the groundwork. For example, if Chat Noir could figure out why she left, maybe Adrien would be able to fix it. 

The balcony came into view a few minutes later, and Chat Noir picked up the pace. Using his alter ego to snuff out information wasn’t something that he put to practice often, but all attempts to talk to Marinette as Adrien so far have failed, and he couldn’t wait for his schedule as a civilian to open again. 

His feet landed on the Dupain-Cheng rooftop, but the ice on top of it caused him to slip. He let out a yelp and threw his hands forward to claw for support. The high pitched whine that came from his gloves when they caught on the ice made him wince, but it was better than falling off the edge of the roof. He scrambled upwards to safety, blowing out a sigh of relief as he found Marinette’s window. That was close.

Now that he had steady footing, Chat Noir stole a peek into Marinette’s bedroom. The last time he came to her house uninvited, it was while she was sleeping, and that did not end well for him. Therefore, he’s started checking whether she’s ‘ready’ for him or not.

Marinette buzzed around her room, a bright smile on her lips as she gathered empty soda can, cups, and plates. Why were there so many drinks and plates? Did Marinette eat that much or did she have someone over earlier? If she did have someone over, then who would it be? Everyone at Dupont was still grumbling about her supposed misdeeds. Did someone finally come to their senses and apologize? 

Chat Noir perked up. This was great! If she’s reconciled with one of her old classmates, it would be that much easier to sway her in his direction.

Fueled by a fresh spark of hope, he climbed up to Marinette’s balcony. The coolness of the metal railing seeped through his gloved hands as he grabbed it, but he hardly cared as he swung himself over. His padded feet hit the wooden floorboards without a sound, and he knelt down to knock on the trapdoor.

“I can’t believe how much fun today was!”

His knuckles faltered in the air at the sound of Marinette’s voice. She sounded positively giddy, which was nice, but who was she talking to? He didn’t remember seeing anyone in the bedroom with her. Were they sitting outside his viewpoint? Should he come back later?

“When everyone got covered in flour, I thought the rest of the night was going to be horrible, but they looked like they had a good time.” Marinette continued, oblivious of her eavesdropper. 

Chat Noir frowned slightly. ‘Everyone’.. Did more than one person come over? How did they get covered in flour?

He shook his head and checked his baton for the time. 10:20pm. If he was going to talk to her, it needed to do it now. 

Tentatively, he knocked on the trapdoor, hoping beyond all hope that she was making a simple phone call. Marinette would be ticked if he came over, uninvited, while she had someone else visiting.

Her idle chatter immediately ceased, and Chat Noir shifted nervously on the floor. Please be alone. Please be alone.

His ears twitched to the sound of movements. Footsteps were making their way across the room. Then up the first ladder to the loft. Then up the second ladder to the balcony. Then-

Marinette pushed her way through the trapdoor, offering him a warm smile. “Hey, Chat! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around here. How have you been?”

Chat’s shoulders sagged in relief. It’s been forever since he’s seen that wonderful smile. “I’ve been okay. Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all.” Marinette held the trapdoor open long enough for Chat to grab it and started climbing back down the ladder. “I was just cleaning up from having my friends over.”

So she did have people over! 

“Which friends?” He asked, trying not to sound too eager as he climbed down the ladder behind her. Could it be Alya? They were best friends, after all. Or Nino? He was always skeptical of Lila’s tales. Oh! What if it was Nathaniel? Chat remembered the red-head having a soft spot for Marinette a while back. Or what about-

“My new friends from school!” Her enthusiastic reply shattered his hopes, and Chat Noir froze, the trapdoor rocking shut above him. She had.. new friends? Already? She’d only been gone a week or two..

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I transferred from Dupont to Rosemary!” She added, completely oblivious to the bomb that she’d just dropped on him. It shouldn’t surprise Chat that she had new friends, since Marinette was amazing, but..

“What about your old friends?” 

Marinette shrugged, dumping a few soda cans into the trash bag that lay in the corner of her room. “Oh, you know. Lila’s been rallying them against me for a few months now. I figured that wasn’t good for my mental health or my education, so I decided to leave.”

Guilt festered in the pit of his stomach, and Chat Noir cast his gaze to the side. He understood where she was coming from. Lila hadn’t been making life easy for her as of late. 

“Do you miss them?”

“Nope!” The answer was immediate and cheerful, and it shot a knife right through Chat’s heart.

“There’s not a single part of you that wants to go back?” He persisted. School had been difficult for her with Lila’s lies. He got that. But it still hurt to know that she was willing to throw them away like they hadn’t been friends for the better half of two years. 

Marinette shook her head, shoving the imagined knife deeper into his chest. “If they wanted me to stay, they should have treated me better.”

“What if they’re sorry?” He asked, probably faster than he should have. “What if they missed you and wanted you to come back? Wouldn’t you forgive them?”

Weren’t friends supposed to work things out? 

A sigh fell from her lips. “I don’t know, Chat. No one’s even apologized yet. Even if they did, I’m not sure that I’d want to go back?”

“Why not?” Chat all but yelled in exasperation. If everyone apologized, that would mean no one was upset with her anymore. The problem would be gone! So why would she want to stay away from them?

Marinette frowned at him. “If I go back to Dupont, it’ll only show them that their actions don’t have any real consequences. They need to learn that they can’t just treat people however they want.” 

Chat Noir didn’t respond, because what could he really say? She was right. He knew she was right. You can’t rage against someone day after day and expect them to take it. Even so, he couldn’t help wanting her back. They needed her. He needed her.

“Why are you so concerned about this anyway?” Marinette inquired, breaking him from his thoughts.

Chat Noir managed a sheepish smile. “N-No reason. I just don’t want you making any rash decisions is all.”

Marinette eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I don’t think it’s rash to get out of a toxic situation, but why don’t we change the subject? Do you want to play games? I can bring up snacks if you plan on staying long.”

Chat Noir pulled out his baton to check the time. 10:40pm. Drat.

“Actually, I should get going.” He replied, slipping on an apologetic smile. “Patrol and all that.”

Marinette gave an understanding nod. “No problem. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Thanks for having me.” Chat Noir said with a small wave. He then clambered back up the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor. The freezing air hit him full force, but he didn’t have time to be skittish. Nathalie would be coming to check on him in twenty minutes, and that didn’t include the possibility of her coming to check on him early.

He shut the trapdoor behind him, making sure it was tightly closed. (Just because he had to get frostbite didn’t mean that Marinette had to) Then, Chat Noir swung himself over the railing, slid down the Dupain-Cheng’s rooftop, and started homeward.

He’d wanted to change Marinette’s mind about Dupont, but in the end, he was the one who had his mind changed. With Lila running about and spreading lies, it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to return. However, if his classmates were too.. say.. change their ways and learn to appreciate Marinette, she might be inclined to come back. All he had to do was convince them that Lila was a liar and that Marinette was an actual angel, and he would start with apologizing. What the school Marinette said she transferred to? Rosemary? Yeah, that’s it. Rosemary.. Wasn’t that the prestigious school for rich kids that Father almost sent him to? How did she manage to enroll there? He thought the tuition was supposed to be extremely expensive.

Chat Noir shook his head slightly. How she enrolled at that school didn’t matter. What mattered was that that’s where she’ll be most of the day from now on, and as soon as he got even a second of free time as Adrien, she will be the first person he sees.

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas

[0bsess3d]

lies | j.m. | part two

masterlist

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader x Best Friend!OC

A/N: It took me so long to finally get to rewriting this. But, here it is, I guess. I’ll probably start on writing the third part tmrw.

Warnings: Cursing, Lying.

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: Instead of rejecting your friend, you tell him you’re taken, which is a complete and total lie. Now that he’s asking to meet this so-called boyfriend of yours, you’re going to need someone to play the role of your imaginary love interest.

You woke up the following day, almost forgetting about the mess you got yourself into. Not only did you lie to your best friend, but you also had to pretend to date your brother’s best friend to back up said lie.

What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?

You reached over to turn over your blaring alarm from your nightstand, groaning. You laid there in bed for a second, giving yourself time to fully wake up before you reached over to check your phone.

You had a couple of notifications from apps that you barely even use anymore and a couple of unread messages. Some were from friends, just saying “hey” or “good morning.” But, there was one from JJ:

JJ: What time do your friends want us over there?

To which you replied:

(y/n) : Kassi said 7, so you should probably come over here at around 6:30.

JJ just replied a simple “okay” You just laid your phone back down on your nightstand, standing up to get ready for the day.

--

Soon enough, you were in your kitchen, fixing yourself the third bowl of cereal this week. John B soon emerged from the doorway, his hair clearly not brushed this morning. “Morning.” He murmured to you, his voice raspy as he had probably just woken up.”

“Good morning.” You mumbled back, pouring the milk into your bowl of fruit loops. Then, you watched as your brother poured himself a glass of orange juice, putting the milk back into the refrigerator.

“So,” John B started, “when are you and JJ going over to your friend’s house?” He asked, watching as you took the first bite of your cereal.

You allowed yourself time to chew and swallow your food before answering him, “He’s coming to pick me up at 6:30.” You simply told him, taking another bite of cereal.

John B nodded, finishing off his glass of orange juice and placing it in the sink. He moved over to lean against the counter beside you as you ate. “So, how long do you think this whole charade is going to last?” he asked you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shrugged, having not really thought about the answer to that question. “I don’t know. I guess just however long it takes for Julian to stop liking me.” You chuckled a little at the end of the last sentence.

“But what if he doesn’t?” he questioned.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that.” You shrugged again.

“Well, you’ve got to. You can’t just keep lying to your friends forever (y/n). One day, all of this is going to come back to bite you in the ass. And, when it does, I will be right here to tell you ‘I told you so’”

You just rolled your eyes at your brother, putting away your empty bowl and spoon. But, honestly, you knew he was right. You were well aware of the fact that you dug yourself a deep hole that you may struggle to get out of.

--

Before you know it, it was 6:28, and a knock sounded at your door. You had spent the entire day on your phone or watching tv, and to be honest, you weren’t ready at all for the events ahead. You opened the door, revealing JJ, his signature smirk spread out on his face. “Hey.” He greeted, walking past you into your house.

“Hey,” You greeted back, watching as he moved to sit on your couch. “I was just finishing up getting dressed. I’ll be ready in a sec.”

Just as you were about to turn around and go into your room, JJ stops you, “Oh, wait, here.” He threw a red hoodie, one that you have definitely seen him wear before, at you. You quickly caught it, looking down to see what it was before giving him a confused look. “You know how girls usually wear their boyfriends’ shirts? I thought it would be more convincing if you wore one of mine to the movie night thing.” He ended it with a simple shrug.

“Okay, yeah, that’s actually really smart.” You laughed before disappearing into your room.

--

Around a half-hour later, you were both on the doorstep of Kassi’s house. Kassi lived in between the cut and figure eight. She lived in a nice house with a nice family. She wasn’t as poor as the pogues, but she wasn’t as rich as the kooks either. She was in the middle. Finally, the door opened to reveal the pretty blonde girl that was your friend. “(y/n), hey!” She hugged you before looking over at JJ. “And you must be (y/n)’s boyfriend.”

“Yep, that’s me. My name’s JJ.” JJ shook her hand with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you, JJ. Come on in, guys. Julian and I already ordered pizza, and we’re looking for a movie to watch right now.” As she spoke, Kassi opened the door wider to let you and JJ inside.

You walk in to see Julian sitting on Kassi’s couch with the TV remote in his hand. Not gonna lie, you did feel kind of awkward seeing him for the first time after you rejected him. And, there was a small part of you that regretted lying to him.

He was wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and his brown hair was messier than it usually was. He looked good.

As soon as he noticed you two walk in from the corner of his eyes, he finally looked in your direction. For a moment, you could see a hint of jealousy in his expression before he quickly hid it with a friendly smile. He stood up as you and JJ approached the living room. “Hey, man. I’m Julian. You are?”

“JJ.” The boys shook hands before everyone piled on the couch. You and JJ were cuddled up together, Julian was on the other side of the couch you two were on, and Kassi sat in the recliner by the couch.

The room was silent besides the sound of the remote clicking as Julian searched for a movie to watch. “So, how did you guys meet?” Kassi asked, trying her best to save the awkward silence.

“Oh, uh, JJ’s friends with my brother.” You answered casually, only earning a nod from Kassi. This question was easy. It was one of the few questions you’ve actually thought about.

“How long have you guys been dating?” She asked.

“About to be four months,” JJ answered this time.

Julian’s head snapped in your direction. “You hid a relationship from us for four months?” You could tell he was hurt, and that made you feel even more guilty if that was even possible.

“Julian, I’m sorry, but we couldn’t risk people finding out about us.” You tried your best not to get into a fight with your best friend of 4 years over a stupid, fake relationship.

“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?” Julian asked, his arms crossed. You and JJ looked over at each other, not knowing how to answer this question.

Okay, so maybe you should have thought this through a little bit more.

Just as you thought you were going to be caught in your lie, Kassi spoke up. “Julian, you know how protective her brother is. He wouldn’t let you hang out with her for a year unless someone else was there with you. So how would you think he’d react to finding out his best friend is dating his sister?”

“Exactly.” You agreed, nodding at Kassi.

“Maybe, but why couldn’t you at least tell me?” Julian asked, now turned towards where you and JJ sat with a hurt expression painted on his face. JJ just sat there as you did the talking, not wanting to get this guy mad at him and make everything worse.

“Because you could have told Kassi, and Kassi can’t keep a secret for the life of her. No offense, Kassi.”

“None taken.”

“Okay, I guess that’s understandable,” Julian muttered with a sigh, but you could tell he was still suspicious. “Now, what do you guys want to watch? I can’t find anything.”

--

Once the movie was over, everyone was exhausted and ready to go home. You all helped Kassi clean the living room before saying goodbye and heading out the door. “Bye, guys! It was nice meeting you, JJ!” The sweet girl shouted from the doorway, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“Nice meeting you too.” JJ smiled back, walking in front of you to his truck. You and Julian waved at the blonde girl before watching as she shut the door.

Just as you were about to catch up to JJ’s truck, Julian stopped you, “Wait.” You turned around to face him, giving him a questioning look. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Well,” Julian chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t necessarily believe that JJ existed.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head to the side a bit.

“Like, I thought you were lying to me about having a boyfriend.”

“Why would you think that?” You chuckled nervously.

“Well, I don’t know. You’re just so sweet. I thought that you were pretending to have one just so my feelings wouldn’t get hurt.” Julian laughed as if what he was telling you was stupid. If only he knew.

“What? That’s crazy.” You laughed with him. “I would never lie to you, Julian. You’re my best friend.”

Julian nodded, smiling. “I know, and that’s what I love so much about you.” After that statement, the silence between you two became extremely awkward. “But, uh, I like JJ. He’s cool. You should invite him to hang out with us more often.”

“Of course.”

Julian glanced behind you at JJ, who was sitting in his truck waiting for you. “I’ll let you guys get back home. But, first, uh, one question.”

“Yeah?”

Julian lowered his voice to an almost whisper so JJ wouldn’t hear from the truck. “Does he know that I, uh, asked you out?”

You immediately shook your head no. “Of course not. I wouldn’t want him to get mad at you, especially since you didn’t know I was in a relationship.”

“Thank you.” Julian gave you a small smile, starting to head towards his car. “Good night, (y/n).”

“Good night, Julian.”

--

During that whole car ride, you and JJ talked and talked about just about everything. You laughed about the movie and about conversations that happened earlier. It was like you could never get bored when you were around JJ.

All good things come to an end, though, and JJ finally arrived at your house. “You spending the night tonight?” you asked him, your hand on the door handle.

“No, I think I’m going to stay at home tonight.” He told you, tapping his fingers on his steering wheel. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to miss me for too long. I’ll always be here in the morning,” He told you, making you smile.

“Can you walk me to the door?” You asked, only earning a nod in response as you both got out of the truck and headed to the front door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Julian said that he likes you and to invite you to hang out again.”

JJ smiled, putting a hand on his chest dramatically. “Well, I would be honored.” You both laughed, now standing on your front porch. “Just let me know when you guys are planning on hanging out again.”

“Will do. Good night.”

“‘Night.”

You were about to walk inside, and JJ was almost off the porch when you turned back around to add something. “Oh, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” JJ turned around to face you.

“Thank you.”

“For what” He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what you were thanking him for.

“For agreeing to, you know, pretend to date me. I would have been in so much trouble if it wasn’t for you.” You explained, causing JJ to give you a small smile in return.

“It’s no problem.” The sweet smile on his face soon turned into a cocky smirk. “But, remember, you’ll owe me one.” The blond boy winked before walking off to his truck and driving away.

You watched him drive off while rolling your eyes with a grin on your face. “Asshole.” You muttered to yourself as you entered your home and went straight to bed.

--

a/n again: so, I didn’t really change that much because I realized that I don’t actually hate it that bad, and I was just overthinking it as usual. It is definitely longer, though, so I guess that’s a plus?

taglist: @is-it-really-a-secret (sorry for tagging you again lol)