#Dad’s living in his office. Bed frame and clothes moved down and everything

[astral-catastrophe]

They need couples counseling imo

[marjansmarwani]

flicker, into a flame

13.1k || ao3

When their home is attacked and they get separated, TK is left to face the awful possibility that he might lose Carlos. When he finds out later that the attack on their home could be in retaliation for his dad's newest obsession with Austin's arsonist, he lashes out. Owen never wanted any of this to happen and if he could he would take it all back, but that's not possible. All any of them can do is hope for the best and that Carlos makes it through. If he doesn't nothing will ever be the same, for any of them. ----- A 2x12 spec fic

This got a lot longer than I meant it to be. But here it is - just in time to be proven wrong! This was started before the promo clip of Gabriel arresting Owen so that is not in here, but there are still many of my theories, and just as many from @silvarafael who helped a lot with the plot of this one. Yes it is angsty, but I promise there are soft parts, and a soft ending because they deserve it.

---------------

TK woke up to a soft kiss on his forehead. He blinked his eyes open to find his fully clothed boyfriend staring down at him with a gentle smirk. “What,” Carlos began with a raised eyebrow, “three weeks of living together and we’ve already hit the ‘in bed before 9’ part of our relationship?” 

TK rolled so he was facing Carlos, giving him a warm smile that morphed into a yawn. “Sorry babe,” he said around the yawn, “it was a really long shift. I figured I’d just get a quick nap in before you got home but I must have fallen asleep for real. What time is it?” 

“Just past 8,” Carlos replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and studying him, “you look exhausted.” 

“Non-stop calls,” TK provided by way of explanation. “I don’t think we were ever in the station longer than a half-hour all day.”

Carlos winced sympathetically, reaching out to run a hand through TK’s hair. “Everyone needed to be saved by you, huh? Can’t say I blame them.” 

“Or something like that,” TK agreed lightly before starting to sit up and throw the blankets off of him. “But you’re home now, I’ll get up. We can do something.” 

“We could,” Carlos agreed. “Or, we could stay right here. I have some ideas.” 

TK paused in his movements to raise a suggestive eyebrow, “Is that so?” 

“Mhmm,” Carlos confirmed, leaning forward and capturing TK’s mouth in a hungry kiss. TK smiled into it, reaching up and placing his hands on either side of Carlos’s face as he returned it.  

“Hi,” he said breathlessly when they broke apart for air, “how was work?” 

“Work was fine,” Carlos responded lightly, “just your average day of speeding tickets and domestic disputes. But I don’t want to talk about that right now. In fact, I’d rather not do much talking at all.” 

TK grinned mischievously, sliding his hands down from where they framed Carlos’s face across his neck and down to his chest, pulling lightly at the shirt covering it. “Then I regret to inform you that you are wearing too many clothes, Officer Reyes.” 

“Is that so? Well, that can be remedied easily.”

He pulled his shirt over his head, leaning forward again, pulling TK into a kiss as he blindly fumbled with his belt. He grinned into the kiss as TK made a noise of triumph and he felt his belt loosen and he lowered himself down, bracing himself on either side of TK’s body as he deepened the kiss. TK’s arms wrapped around him as he shifted, raising himself up on the bed so that they were closer, closing the distance between them. 

Their bodies were flush to each other now, their frantic breaths matching. Carlos moved his mouth from TK’s, trailing kisses down his neck instead. He was about to keep working his way down when he suddenly felt the warmth of TK’s hands leave his body. He barely had a moment to process before TK’s voice cut through the silence of their bedroom: “Wait, Carlos, Stop.” 

Carlos froze instantly, pulling away and looking down at TK with concern, “Is everything okay? We don’t need to if…” 

“No, it’s not that. It’s...do you smell something?” 

Carlos frowned at him but shifted his attention to the world outside their bed. There was a smell, drifting up from below them. It smelled like…

“Is that smoke?” He asked, glancing towards the doorway in alarm. 

“I think so,” TK agreed grimly and Carlos cursed, pulling himself off of TK and the bed before crossing to the doorway. TK followed him but was forced to stop when Carlos froze in the doorway. He watched as his boyfriend halted at the top of the stairs, reeling back at the sight of flames eating through the first floor and making their way up. He stepped further back as Carlos turned, stepping back into their bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. 

“There’s fire downstairs,” he informed TK unnecessarily, “we’re not getting out that way.”

TK cursed and glanced around the room before heading to the balcony. “Any chance there’s a fire escape somewhere you forgot to mention and I never noticed?” he called as he went. 

Carlos, who had been in the act of following TK towards across the room looked up only to shake his head before he returned his attention to the bag he had dropped when he had entered the room, rummaging through it in search of his phone. 

He made a noise of triumph as he found it, briefly holding it up for TK to see before dialing. His eyes tracked TK on the other side of the room as he waited for the call to connect. TK offered him a smile before he turned back to the task at hand and pulled open the doors to the balcony. The smoke was even more obvious out here, leaking out into the night air through the window he was fairly certain he had left open. He stepped to the railing and looked down, trying to gauge how far of a drop it was. All the time he had spent here he should already know, but he had never thought to check. It was hard to tell in the dark, even with the orange glow of the home burning below him, but it didn’t look too far. If they went over the railing and then lowered themselves down, they should be able to make it. 

He turned to tell Carlos as much and was alarmed to see how much smoke was now filling their bedroom, despite the closed door. Carlos was still on the phone with dispatch but looked up when TK stepped back into the room. 

“I think if we can lower ourselves over the railing and drop down, we should be fine,” he called out and Carlos nodded, speaking into the phone before he lowered it from his ear and started to walk across the room. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, I trust you,” Carlos called as walked. “Either way, pretty sure it beats staying in here.” 

TK grinned at him as stepped further inside the room. He fully intended to make sure that Carlos got out first. He may be a paramedic now, but 7 years of firefighting left him feeling a lot more confident in his ability to survive in a flaming building than Carlos’s. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else unless he knew his boyfriend was safe. 

At least, that was the plan. 

Carlos was only about 6 feet away from him when it happened, so close to their exit; so close to safety. But the fire downstairs must be burning hotter than he had thought, or maybe he just wasn’t thinking clearly. Because when the floor buckled under Carlos, TK felt a shock unlike any other. There was a pause; a split second, where he felt a wave of fear overwhelm him. Where his eyes met Carlos’s to see the same mix of fear and surprise in his expression. It was only a moment, but it was enough.

In the next breath, TK lunged forward; reaching out to grab Carlos, to pull him back to safety. But that one moment had been his window, and he had missed it. He slid forward, stopping just short of the edge with a shout, able do nothing but watch in horror as Carlos fell with what had been their bedroom floor and out of TK’s sight into the flames below. 

He froze at the end of the hole, staring down into the destruction beneath him. He couldn’t make out anything: it all blurred together in a blinding haze of flame and smoke. He called out but his voice, tinged in panic and desperation, was swallowed by the roar of the fire. TK coughed harshly, instinct causing him to pull the neck of his shirt up over his mouth as he forced himself to look past the panic that was threatening to swallow him. He needed to get to Carlos. He needed to make sure he was okay. 

He picked himself up off the ground and carefully edged around the hole in the floor, heading back over to the door at the top of their stairs. He pulled it open and was almost toppled by the wave of heat that rushed through; staggering and reaching out for the doorframe to steady himself. He pulled his hands away a moment later, hissing in pain as the heat of the doorframe seared into his hand. A step through the doorway confirmed what he had feared: there would be no getting down that way. The stairs were fully engulfed. Even in his full turnout gear it would have been a challenge. In nothing but the t-shirt and sweats he had fallen asleep in earlier; it would be impossible. 

He could feel desperation and fear creeping back into his mind. He needed to get to Carlos. He needed to make sure he was safe. He needed Carlos to be okay. Nothing else mattered. 

He glanced back over his shoulder into their bedroom. There were no flames in there yet, just thick dark smoke. He turned that way, heading back into the room and to the edge of the hole in the floor, pausing for just a moment. He knew one way to get down to Carlos, even if 7 years of experience and instincts were yelling at him to stop. 

But it was Carlos, and he was worth every risk. 

So he clamored to the edge and lowered himself down, into the inferno below. 

It took him a few moments to get his bearings, to adjust to the bright light cast by the flames surrounding him. He blinked against the light and the smoke, hiking his t-shirt - far too thin to make any real difference - further up his face, doing his best to keep it secured above his nose. He had no idea where Carlos had fallen, or what shape he was in. He just hoped that he wasn’t too far or too badly hurt. 

He moved forward carefully, blinking the sweat running down his forehead from his eyes as he glanced around, looking for any sign of his boyfriend, any hint of where to head next. He thought he might be in the dining room, but it was almost impossible to tell. Everything looked wrong bathed in the sinister orange glow and for all his years of working in fire, TK was certain he had never hated it more than he did at this very moment. 

More of the ceiling crumbled as he walked beneath it, flaming pieces of plaster and wood singing his arms as he threw them protectively over his head. He could feel his skin blistering from even the briefest contact with the flaming debris but he ignored it and pushed forward, hoping that where ever Carlos was he was nowhere near the flames. He had a fleeting thought of what prolonged exposure to these flames could do if the briefest contact could leave him burned, but he pushed it away. He didn’t need to dwell on it, there was no point in considering the worst. 

TK reached the edge of the dining room and turned on the spot, scanning the surrounding area. Carlos was here somewhere, he just needed to find him. And fast – the flames were spreading. They didn’t have much more time, and Carlos had even less. He turned again, forcing himself to look past the flames. He could just make out a pile of rubble a few feet in front of him, mercifully untouched by flames and he rushed towards it with bated breath. He was forced to stop again when more of the ceiling rained down on him and he covered his head with his arms. He could feel new burns forming but he rushed forward the moment the shower stopped, bending down and moving the rubble. 

He almost swayed in relief when he saw a familiar arm underneath the scrap of wood he lifted, but his relief was short-lived when he realized that Carlos wasn’t moving. In fact, he seemed entirely unaware of either TK’s presence or the chaos that surrounded them and that filled TK with dread. He moved the rest of the rubble, quickly but carefully, until he had a better view and bent even further down, leaning closer to listen for any sounds of breathing; for any sign that he was alive.

He found none and could feel his world begin to collapse right along with their home.

But somewhere and somehow years of training emerged from the depth of his mind and took over, blanketing the pain and the fear with muscle memory as he shifted onto his knees before Carlos’s still form, stacking his hands on top of each other and starting to pump. The motion was rote and repetitive and if he tried, he could almost lose himself in the act; the rhythm of the motion and the counting almost distracting him from the fact that it was Carlos’s heart not beating beneath his fingers. 

But one look at Carlos’s slack face was all it took for reality to come crashing back in, each and every time. 

He paused at the end of his 30 compressions, shifting so he was at Carlos’s head and placing his mouth over his just like he had not even an hour before but in such a different way it shook him to his core. He breathed in, three times, before he switched back to compressions, wincing as he felt another rib give under the force of his hands. He lost himself in rhythm, so focused that he didn’t hear the footsteps or the shouts; that he didn’t realize the figures in turnout gear were upon him until a gloved hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality.   

The hand was trying to pull him away from Carlos but he resisted, pulling away and continuing to give compressions. He couldn’t stop; he needed to save him. 

The hand pulled more forcefully and was joined by an arm wrapped around his waist wrenching him away from Carlos. He fought against the grip, blindly lashing out as he turned. He only paused in his movements as he recognized Paul under the mask. 

“TK,” he was saying, shouting to be heard through the mask and over the din of the fire as new pieces of their ceiling crumbled to the ground as the flames grew ever higher. “You need to stop so we can get you out of here – both of you.” 

“Carlos…” TK started, and Paul nodded. 

“We’ve got him, I promise. We’re not leaving either of you behind, but you need to stop fighting me.”

Paul’s gaze was scared and desperate, and TK deflated with a nod. He allowed Paul to pull him further away as Marjan and Mateo grabbed Carlos, carefully lifting him and bringing him out. TK didn’t remove his eyes from him for a second, allowing Paul to do the work of navigating out of the burning structure that had been their home not even an hour ago. He watched as he was handed off to the B shift paramedic team even as he was pushed down onto the back of the ambulance by Paul. He saw Marjan and Mateo shoot him worried and fearful looks before they were off, returning to the truck and the hoses so they could attempt to stop the fire. He heard words exchanged to his right and the feeling of Paul's hand leaving him, but he only had focus for Carlos and the paramedic currently continuing compressions as another checked him over. 

“Here, kid, you’re going to need this.” 

The voice was gruff but gentle and TK spared a glance long enough to see Judd standing beside him now, reaching out to place an O2 mask over TK’s face. TK put up a hand and went to argue – he didn’t need help, he needed them to help Carlos – but his protests were stolen by a deep, rough cough that ripped from his chest. 

“Like I said,” Judd griped, but the hands that placed the mask on his face were gentle. The fresh oxygen filled his lungs and TK could feel some of the tension in his chest tighten, but any relief was fleeting as he saw the paramedic captain preparing the laryngoscope. He tried to rise from his spot on the back of the ambulance, to move closer, to help; but firm hands on his shoulder held him in place. 

“Let them work,” Judd told him calmly. “You know better than I do that they’re fully capable, and you’re in no shape to help anyone right now.”

TK tried to protest, going as far as reaching up to pull off the O2 mask, but his movements were halted by the sight of Captain Ramos getting into position and inserting the laryngoscope and beginning the process of intubating. TK had done it himself a hundred times, he knew the steps by heart; the feeling of resistance, the tricky process of placing it correctly. He knew why, he understood that it was the best approach for any patient with a compromised airway, especially from smoke inhalation. He knew all of these facts, had done the task with a professional detachment. Watching the tube being inserted into Carlos’s body – seeing the reality of an ambu bag being attached to pump the air he needed to survive into his body – was another matter entirely and if he hadn’t been pushed back down by Judd, he is sure he would have crumbled. 

As it was, he was shaking. 

This couldn’t be happening – it shouldn’t be happening. They should still be in their bed; Carlos should be standing. Their home should not be crumbling to embers before him while someone else did the breathing for Carlos. It was a scene he had seen more times than he could ever count. In the past 7 years, how many homes had he watched burn? How many victims had he transported, had he treated? He had thought it had all become routine, but it all looked so different from this side, and he hated it. It was wrong, every bit of it. 

He turned his gaze from their home back to Carlos, trying to follow the flurry of activity from the paramedic team. Instructions were given and stats were relayed but it was all white noise and soon a blur as his eyes filled with tears. He went to raise a hand to wipe them away only to be stopped by hand on his arm. 

“Your hands are burned, you’ll irritate them,” Judd murmured, and TK was dimly aware of the presence of pain now that it had been brought to his attention. The physical hurt was nothing compared to watching Carlos, to knowing that Carlos wasn’t breathing on his own. Even in his detached and confused state TK was following well enough to know that Carlos was not in good shape and the thought that he might lose him was worse than anything he had ever felt. The physical pain from the cuts and burns littering his body didn’t even hold a candle to that. He could lose him. 

“Hey,” Judd said softly, “don’t go there. Don’t count him out yet. Have a little faith; he’s not ready to leave you yet either.” 

TK wasn’t sure if he had said anything aloud or if Judd just knew, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Carlos. He glanced back over at the paramedic team surrounding Carlos, trying not to focus on how badly the sight of them working to keep him alive affected him, on how it sucked all the air from his lungs and made his heart ache. 

He watched until they started to get ready to move him, to load him into the ambulance. He shot up, determined to get out of the way, to not slow them down but the sudden change in elevation caused him to sway. 

“Hey now,” Judd said, reaching out to grab him, “easy there. No sudden movements.”

TK didn’t respond, too focused on watching them move Carlos to focus on anything else. The moment he was in he moved towards the ambulance, only vaguely aware of Judd stopping him and pulling him into a tight hug. “He’s going to be okay, kid,” he assured him quietly before releasing him and helping him up into the ambulance. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was Judd’s worried face looking up at him, and the sight of their home burning brightly against the night sky.

--------

 He had just finished counting the ceiling tiles, again. 

 Owen had been sitting in the interrogation room ever since APD officers had shown up at his door and brought him to the station without a word of explanation. They had read him his rights, loaded him into their cruiser, and escorted him to his windowless room. That had been two hours now, or so he thought. It was hard to judge time in a windowless room full of fluorescent light.

 He was trying to be patient, trying to play it cool. He knew how it worked: they left suspects alone for a while, to let them get worked up. To make them more likely to crack. But Owen wasn’t a suspect; he had done nothing wrong. This was all a big misunderstanding and the sooner they came to talk to him, the sooner they would know that. 

 Or so he kept telling himself. 

 He was staring at the door again, willing it to open and for someone to step through when it finally did, taking him completely by surprise. 

 “Captain Strand,” the figure said as he stepped into the room, “I’m Detective Caldwell. Do you know why you are here?” 

 “Can’t say I do,” Owen replied evenly, studying the detective standing before him. The man nodded and set down the folder he had been holding, pulling it open as he took a seat in the chair across from Owen. 

 “You’re here,” he began, looking up from his folder to meet Owen’s eyes, “on suspicion of arson. There has been a rash of fires throughout the city in the past few weeks and somehow, you keep ending up tied to them.” 

 “I had nothing to do with those fires,” Owen said heatedly. “There’s some other psycho out there who has burned down four homes, you’re wasting your time with me.” 

 “Five.” 

 Owen froze in the middle of his defense, “What?” 

 “Five homes burned down. There was another one tonight, about 3 hours ago now.” 

 Owen stared at Detective Caldwell, “And you think I did it?”

 “You have a connection to this particular location,” the detective explained. “Tell me, Captain, what does 2421 W 9th St mean to you?” 

 And just like that, Owen’s world ground to a halt. 

 “What was that address,” he asked slowly, desperately hoping he had misheard. It had to be his brain latching on to familiar syllables, that was the only explanation. 

 “2421 W 9th St,” Caldwell repeated, reaching into his folder and pulling out photos that he slid across the table to Owen. He picked them up with shaking hands, still praying that he had heard wrong but there was no mistaking the familiar scene in the photos. A doorway that he had carried boxes through not even a month ago, the remains of a kitchen he had insisted on helping with the dishes in after dinner just last week. His son’s car parked out front. 

 He could feel the detective’s eyes on him, no doubt studying and judging his reaction, but he couldn’t care less about that at the moment. “Were they home?” he asked, well aware of the desperation seeping his voice but unable to stop it. “Please tell me they were out, that they’re okay.”

 “They were both home,” Caldwell informed him curtly. “And they were both rescued and transported to the hospital. I’m not at liberty to share any more information beyond that.” 

 Owen stared at him, trying to remember how to form words past the roaring fear in his head. 

 “Not at liberty…” he said distantly, staring at the other man. “That’s my son! How are you not at liberty to share that information?” 

 “I don’t have any information beyond that,” Caldwell explained, “and even if I did it is generally against protocol to provide such information to suspects.” 

 “Suspects?” Owen asked incredulously, fingers tightening on the horrifying photos still clutched in his hands. “You think I am a suspect? You think I could have done...this,” he broke off, gesturing to the destruction in the photos, “to my own son? To Carlos? Are you out of your mind?” 

 “I think that’s the question I am supposed to ask you, Captain.” 

 Owen studied him, taking in the hard set of the detective’s jaw. “You really think I did this,” he noted, the shock he was feeling seeping into his words. 

 The detective shrugged, “Why not? You’re a fire captain, you would have the knowledge and means to do so.” 

 Owen scoffed, “Yeah but you said it: I’m a firefighter. I have dedicated my life to saving people from fires, not to starting them.” 

 “But things haven’t been going all that great for you lately, have they? Maybe you decided to mix things up, try something else for a thrill.” 

 “Things have been fine.” Owen retorted calmly, holding his gaze. “And even if they weren’t I promise I’m more the ‘binge drink tequila’ type than the ‘arson’ type.”

“So you’re fine with your ex-wife deciding to move back to New York instead of continuing with your attempt to rekindle and start again?”

 “Yes. Gwyn is a capable and smart woman, I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell her what to do or stand in her way once she’s made up her mind.” 

 “And your girlfriend before her?” 

 “Zoe was never my ‘girlfriend’,” Owen stated, leaning forward and tapping the table for emphasis. “We were just two adults who enjoyed each other’s company. Besides, she was offered a position at Berkley and since that was closer to her family and it was the start of the pandemic, she decided to take it. It made sense, and she’s happy there. Do you have a point anywhere in this?” 

 “What about your son, then?” 

 Owen stiffened as he glanced away from the detective, “What about him?” 

 “He’s leaving you too. First, he left your fire crew to become a paramedic, now he’s moved out, again. Moved in with his boyfriend, right?” 

 The detective leveled his gaze at Owen, who held it for a second before scoffing. “Please don’t tell me you think this is a homophobic thing. TK came out to me when he was 15. That was over a decade ago; pretty sure I would have acted on those feelings before now if they existed.” 

 “No, I don’t think it’s a homophobic thing. I think you’re scared of losing your son. It’s reasonable, and I do see where you’re coming from, honestly: how many times has he almost died in the past year alone? Three times? Wanting to keep him close, make sure he’s safe, it makes sense.” 

 Owen simply stared at the detective for a long moment. When he spoke, his tone was incredulous again, “You realize how insane you sound, right? I love my son and all I want is for him to be happy. He’s happy with Carlos. Besides, what parent in their right mind would not want their child dating Carlos Reyes? He’s kind of perfect. I know TK is safe with him and I know TK is loved with him.” 

 He paused here for breath, holding the detective’s gaze as he continued, voice more serious, “The only thing I am worried about right now is if they’re okay. At what point would putting my son in danger like that accomplish anything. Why would I risk that? He is the only thing that matters to me. I would never do that to him, or to Carlos.”

 There was silence in the interrogation room in the wake of his words. The detective was studying him again, but Owen was out of patience. 

 “Every minute you spend with me is another minute that psycho has to do this again,” he spat. “I’m not the one you should be worried about, detective, I promise you. All you’re doing is giving that monster more of a chance to get away, or to hurt someone else.”   

 There was silence in the wake of his outburst. The detective studied him, but Owen held his gaze. He hadn’t done this; he wasn’t the person they were looking for. 

 A knock on the glass of the observation room interrupted their staring contest as the detective stepped out of the room to see what it was about. Owen leaned back in his seat and sighed, trying to keep his mind from running with all the awful possibilities. TK and Carlos could both be hurt or worse and he had no way of knowing. He had faith that they weren’t there alone; there was no chance the rest of the team wouldn’t be there for him. But it didn’t change the fact that Owen should be there and that he wasn’t because someone at Austin PD decided this would be the best time to interrogate him. 

 He was about to tell the detective as much when he reentered the room a few minutes later but was saved the trouble when the detective stood in the doorway, door open beside him. 

 “You’re free to go, Captain Strand,” he said. At Owen’s startled look he sighed, “You’re not in the clear yet but we don’t have enough to hold you on. Suffice to say you’ll need to stay in town.” 

 Owen stared at him for another moment before he was up, heading towards the door. He was just about the exit when the detective stepped sideways so he was blocking Owen’s exit. 

 “I know you didn’t ask for it but, my advice? Maybe take some time and focus on your son, and Officer Reyes. I’m sure he could use you right now and poking your nose back into this isn’t going to help anyone, let alone you. If you’re telling the truth and it’s not you, let the guy hang himself. We will catch the arsonist, whoever it is.” 

 The detective held his gaze and Owen swallowed before nodding, stepping out of the interrogation room and into the bright lights of the hallway. He paused for a moment, blinking to readjust his eyes when he heard a voice behind him, “Owen.” 

 He turned to see Gabriel Reyes leaning on the wall across from the interrogation room, a grim look on his face. 

 “Gabriel,” Owen said, crossing the hallway so he was beside him, “How’s TK? And Carlos? Were they hurt?” 

 Pain flashed across the other man’s face for a moment before he stood up straighter, “TK’s fine, a few burns and cuts and some minor smoke inhalation. Carlos...is hanging on.” 

 Owen winced at the implications, “Are the Rangers helping with the investigation now? Do you have any new leads?” 

 “My department is involved now, but I’m not. My only concern right now is my son, and yours.” 

 “How is he holding up?” 

 “As well as can be expected, I’d say. He’s scared, worried, and angry. Your crew has been there, right alongside us, but I’d say he could use his father.” 

 “Yeah well, the APD seemed to have other ideas for how I should be spending my time. I suppose you’re the one I have to thank for springing me? I think the word of a Texas Ranger is about the only thing that could have gotten them to let me go.” 

 “You’d be right, but I didn’t do it for you. I did it for TK.” 

 Owen glanced at the other man, startled by the harsh tone of his voice. There was steel in his voice and his eyes as he met Owen’s gaze, “You know what they’re saying, Owen? They’re saying this looks like retaliation. A personal attack meant to hurt you. To get you to stop. And that’s from the people who don’t think you started the fires yourself.” 

 Owen froze, hands fisting the material of his jacket in his hands. The other man was looking at him with disdain, but there was pain behind it. 

 “I didn’t…” he began, but Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to finish. 

 “Those are our children, Owen. Don’t we have enough to worry about with the jobs they chose? None of us need you bringing more trouble. None of us need more danger.” 

 “I didn’t ask for this to happen!” Owen reminded him heatedly, feeling his anger rise. “I never wanted this to happen! If I had known that this could be the result, I never would have gotten involved!” 

 “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place!” 

 The outburst from the typically stoic Gabriel Reyes took Owen by surprise, as well as everyone else in the hallway. There were concerned looks shot their way and Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place,” he repeated, voice more even. “It’s not your job. If you had concerns you should have brought them to someone. Your OFI, me, even Carlos. Anyone who is actually qualified to deal with this. But you didn’t, and now look where it’s gotten us.” 

 “That’s not fair,” Owen ground out, voice tight and low. “I didn’t ask for this. You know I never would have put him at risk, either of them.” 

 “Maybe not,” Gabriel agreed, “but that doesn’t change the facts. The damage has already been done, Owen. My son...” he trailed off as his voice turned thick. He looked down and cleared his throat before trying again, “My son is in a coma with a machine breathing for him,” he told him, “and yours is scared and hurting. You may not have wanted this to happen, but that doesn’t change the fact that it has.”

 Owen was quiet in the wake of his words because everything Gabriel had said was true. This was his fault, no matter how indirectly. He had brought this upon them and he would have to live with that and whatever the outcome might be. 

 He just hoped it was one he could stomach. 

 The two fathers stood quietly in the hallway for several more long moments before Gabriel shook his head. “Us arguing isn’t accomplishing anything,” he told Owen. “The only thing that matters right now is our children, and I am sure TK could use you right now. I’ll take you to the hospital, if you’re ready.”   

 There was so much more to say, Owen knew. He knew he should apologize, that he should assure the other man again and again that it wasn’t him until he was sure he believed it. That he should vow to do better, to never make the same mistakes again. But there was one thing on which he and Gabriel agreed: they weren’t the important ones right now. What he had to say didn’t matter. 

 So he nodded and quietly followed the other man out of the building and towards what did. 

 -------------

 “You need to get some rest, TK.”

 “I’m fine,” TK replied, and Andrea scoffed. 

 “You are not fine, and you should know better than to lie to me. You’re hurt too - in more ways than one.” 

 TK spared her a glance before returning his gaze to the still figure in the bed beside them, “It’s not like I have anywhere to go anyways,” he whispered. “Our home is gone.” 

 “You could come home with Gabriel and I,” Andrea offered, reaching out and placing a soft hand on his arm and squeezing lightly, careful to avoid the bandaged burns, “you’re always welcome.” 

 “I appreciate it,” he told her, throwing her a quick, small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I really do. But I can’t leave him.”

 And that was the crux of it. Logically he knew that his presence didn’t change things one way or the other; staying didn’t give Carlos any more of a fighting chance. But leaving felt like gambling with something he wasn’t willing to risk. He had almost lost him; he had placed his hands on his chest and felt the stillness of the heart he loved most not beating and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. The memory of the sensation was so strong that even the rhythm of the heart monitor beside him wasn’t enough; he kept one hand wrapped loosely around Carlos’s wrist, his fingers pressed against his pulse point and allowing him to trace the rhythm of his heartbeat in his mind. It was a balm and the only thing that was keeping him from going absolutely insane at this moment. He couldn’t leave that; he wasn’t sure he’d survive it. 

 “Besides, I’m pretty sure the only reason they let me leave my own bed is that they know I’m not going anywhere,” TK noted wryly. “I don’t think the doctor is convinced I’m not about to keel over. I told him I wasn’t in the thick smoke for as long but…” 

 He trailed off, any humor leaving his voice and his gaze turning back to Carlos. He reached up with the hand not clutching his wrist to stroke his face.

 “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, not entirely sure who he was talking to. “I should have done more. I should have gotten to him faster. I should have never let us get separated in the first place. I should be the one in the coma; not him.”

 “TK, no,” Andrea said, tears in her voice as he reached for him again. “This is not your fault, none of it. And you did everything you could to rescue him, to make sure he was as safe as he could be. I don’t have a single doubt about it.”

 “Besides, I’m pretty sure Carlos would object to that,” a new voice said from the door. TK turned around to see his father standing in the doorway, his hands worrying the material of the hoodie clutched in his hands as he studied the scene in the room with sad eyes, offering TK a small, fake smile when their eyes met. “He’d say you being in one coma in the past year is more than enough, and I can’t say I’d disagree with him.”

 TK didn’t respond. He just stared at his father. Beside him he heard rustling, but he paid it no mind until Andrea spoke.

 “Gabriel and I are going to go home for a little while, try to get some sleep. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.” She hiked her purse onto her shoulder and bent down to press a kiss on Carlos’s head. She lingered for a moment, muttering something softly in Spanish that TK wouldn’t have understood even if he could have heard it before turning and placing second kiss on TK’s forehead.

 “Try to get some rest, please,” she told him gently. “You still need to take care of yourself, and you know my Carlitos would be telling you the same thing.”

 He swallowed and nodded. Andrea gave him another sad smile before turning and leaving the room, giving Owen a nod on her way out. Soon the found of her footsteps faded down the hall and it was only TK and his father in the room.

 TK turned his full focus back to Carlos as he heard footsteps drawing closer and coming to a halt on the other side of the bed. He could feel his dad’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up until Owen spoke.

 “What did the doctor’s say?”

 “That there was too much damage to his windpipe and lungs,” TK started, voice low and still hoarse. “On top of the broken ribs and severe bruising from falling and being trapped under bits of the ceiling. The only good news is that it means he was still breathing for most of the time he was down there. They think he must have just stopped right before I got to him. Either way, they’re going to keep him on the ventilator for at least a day, probably more. Until his airway is stable enough to support him breathing on his own.”

 “What about you?”

 “I’m fine,” TK said dismissively, unconsciously tightening his grip on Carlos’s wrist. “Some burns, nothing past second degree. Bit of smoke inhalation; nothing I can’t walk away from.”

 “Your voice sounds like it was more than just a bit of smoke inhalation. It sounds like you should still be on oxygen.”

 “My levels are fine.”

 “TK…”

 “The team was here,” TK said instead, interrupting Owen before he even had a chance to speak. “They came by after shift. I was still being treated but they hung around. Judd even managed to talk his way into being in the room with me, so I wasn’t alone. They would have stayed, would still be here, but I told them to go home. Nothing they can do. They didn’t want to though.

 “They’re good like that,” Owen agreed, and TK finally looked up at his father.

 “It was nice to have some family here,” he said, holding his dad’s gaze. He saw the older man flinch, but he pressed on. “Is it true, what they’re saying?”

 “It was arson,” Owen confirmed grimly, but TK shook his head.

 “No, I know that. I meant the other thing.”

 He held his dad’s gaze and the way Owen looked down at his hands told him that he knew exactly what he was hinting at.

 “Was this connected to what you’ve been up to?” TK pressed, not willing to let him weasel out of this conversation. He was filled with so many emotions, he had filtered through too many in the past few hours. He had been scared; he had been sad. He had cried and he had sat in silence; marinating in his dread and letting his anxiety run wild through his mind. Now it was time to poke at the anger that had been lurking in the wings that had only grown when he had heard the rumor: retaliation.

 His dad was quiet for another moment before he looked up, his eyes first landing on Carlos’s slack face before he met TK’s hard gaze, “It may have been.”

 TK nodded tightly, looking away from his dad and turning his gaze back to Carlos. He leaned closer, left hand still wrapped around his wrist to run his right through is hair, carding his fingers through the curls. He knew his dad was watching him, waiting for him to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t want to start a shouting match with his dad in Carlos’s hospital room and he was afraid that if he opened his mouth that is exactly what would happen.

 “If I had known,” his dad said softly, but stopped. TK pulled his gaze away from Carlos to look at his dad, registering the guilt so evident on his face.

 He wanted that to be enough, for that to quell the fury inside him, but his nerves were stressed past their breaking point. He didn’t have any composure left in him; especially not for his dad – the one person he should always be able to rely on to be there for him, to protect him.

 “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place,” he spat, taking a small amount of petty pleasure at the sight of his dad recoiling from his tone. “I told you not to get involved, that it was a bad idea. But you didn’t listen to me – just like always.”

 He pulled his gaze away from his dad to study Carlos again, as if his attention might change anything about the awful reality surrounding him.

 “I was worried you were going to get hurt,” he confided. “I was worried that even after you finally got the damn cancer surgery you had just managed to find another way I could lose you. I guess the joke was on me though; look where we are instead.”

 He knew his words were bitter, that he was probably being unfair. He was pretty sure if Carlos were here, he would tell him to think about what he was saying; to give his dad the benefit of the doubt. But Carlos had always been better than him, and Carlos wasn’t here right now.  

 “They destroyed our home, dad. Which I hate and it makes me so angry, but I could live with that, you know? Houses can be replaced, but Carlos…” he trailed off, looking down at the hand wrapped around the wrist resting on the bed. His words had lost all their anger now and he could feel the tears he thought he had run out of earlier threatening to return.

 “I could lose Carlos,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper now, “and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that.”

 “Son,” his dad started, and TK looked up to see his more sadness in the older man’s eyes than he had ever seen before. It seemed to weigh on his entire body, his usually excellent posture drooping as he looked at TK and at Carlos. For the first time that TK could recall, his dad actually looked old. The anger had already left TK; extinguished in the act of expressing it. But looking at his dad now he didn’t think he could have found it in him to be angry in him regardless.

 “I know you never would have put either of us at risk,” he assured his dad. “Never on purpose. I could never think that.”

 Owen nodded and TK looked back down at Carlos’s still form. He heard the noise of his dad dragging the other chair closer and settling into it but said nothing. He meant what he said: he knew his dad would never have purposefully put them at risk. At worst he was guilty of getting caught up in the moment; at getting swept up into the action. TK knew that and he had meant what he had said. Maybe it wasn’t quite forgiveness, but it was a start.

 For now, they could wait together in silence because despite everything TK didn’t want to be left alone right now. He might not be pleased with his dad at the moment but just knowing that he was here was a weight lifted off his shoulders because knowing someone else was there to help shoulder it made it all the more bearable.

 ---------------

 Morning came, but change did not.

 TK startled awake at the sound of footsteps in the room; sitting upright and coming face to face with a nurse, who offered him a smile. He looked from her back to the bed to see the same sight he had fallen asleep to: Carlos, completely still save for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest from the ventilator. He felt his heart sink all over again. Somehow, he had managed to convince himself that things would be better in the morning, despite the fact that he knew damn well it would be at least another 12 hours before they even considered taking him off the vent.

 “Any change?” he asked the nurse, and though he knew the answer it still hurt when she shook her head.

 “No, but he’s stable and that’s a good thing.”

 She offered him a sympathetic smile and TK tried to return it before asking the next question, “Has there been any discussion about when they might try to take him off the vent?”

 “Not that I’m aware of, but the doctor will be by to check on him in the next hour or so. You could probably get a better answer after that.”

 He nodded and as she finished her checks on Carlos, her gaze turned back to him. “And what about you?” she prompted. “How are you doing? Any problems with shortness of breath, headaches, or coughing?”

 “I’m fine,” he assured her, “I just need him to be okay.”

 Her expression softened again and on her way out of the room she paused to pat his shoulder, “I think he will be. He has everything going for him right now.”

 He took a deep breath and nodded, mumbling a thank you as she slipped out of the room, leaving him alone with Carlos once again.

 “You hear that?” he asked him, reaching his hand back out and placing it on his wrist again, seeking the familiar rhythm of his pulse once more. “You have everything going for you. Which means it shouldn’t be much longer until I get to see those eyes of yours again.”

 He tried to make his words confident, tried to infuse his voice with certainty. He wanted so desperately to believe it but he was so scared it wasn’t true. He leaned closer, bringing their joined hands up to his face and placing a kiss on Carlos’s. “You can’t leave me yet,” he reminded him, his voice dropping to barely a whisper, “we’re just getting started and we have a lifetime ahead of us. Don’t make me face it without you.”

 He got no response and though he hadn’t expected one it still stung. Looking at Carlos like this stung. Looking at the face of the person he loved and seeing no recognition or acknowledgment stung in a way he couldn’t quite describe. Knowing that his body was here in the room but that everything that made him Carlos Reyes wasn’t ached with all the physical pain of a part of his own body missing and, in a way, it was. He and Carlos were one now; so intertwined their friends joked that sometimes it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. They had been for a while and not seeing his smile or hearing his laugh felt like a missing limb.

 His dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and he turned to see Carlos’s parents in the doorway. He offered them a smile as they entered leaning back from the bed.

 Andrea came up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leaned over to look at her son more closely.

 “Any change?” she asked softly and TK shook his head.

 “No, but the nurse said that the doctor will be by in the next couple of hours to check on him and we should know more after that.”

 She nodded and turned to him, casting a critical look over him. “Did you sleep at all, TK?”

 He nodded, “I did, I swear.”

 Gabriel had crossed to the other side of the bed while they were talking, studying his son’s sleeping form as his wife and TK spoke. Now he looked up at TK.

 “Was your father here?”

 TK nodded, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the reminder. “He was. He came in right after you left and was here when I fell asleep, he must have left at some point before I woke up.”  

 Gabriel nodded and TK could tell he also had more to say on the subject but instead he sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face before sinking into the chair Owen had occupied the night before. They all existed in silence for a few more moments before TK stood up. The other two both looked at him and he offered them a small attempt at a smile, “You two should have some time alone with him and,” he continued, speaking slightly louder as they tried to protest, “I should stretch my legs, maybe get some fresh air. Sitting in that chair all night may not have been the best idea.”

 Andrea was watching him with a concerned expression, so he continued, “I’m okay, I swear. And I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

 She nodded and gave him a smile, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “As long as you know you don’t have to leave. You have just as much right to be here as we do and I know Carlitos would want you here.”

 “I do know that,” he assured her, finding what might be the first genuine smile since the smoke had drifted into their bedroom the night before. He nodded to Gabriel before stepping from the room, giving the Reyes some time with their son without an audience.

 He rubbed at his eyes as he walked down the hall. He had meant what he said though: he needed to stretch his legs. Whatever sleep he had gotten the night before had been inadequate which wasn’t surprising, given everything, but it left him feeling wrung out. He needed to be on top of things so he could be there for Carlos and the way he was feeling now he wasn’t sure that was possible. Maybe moving would help; maybe getting his blood flowing would help to shake the lethargy that was pressing on him.

 He had just reached the waiting room and was planning on continuing to the front doors to get some air when he heard his name called from the direction of the waiting room. He turned to see Paul, Marjan and Mateo settled in chairs nearby and changed course.

 “What are you guys doing here?” he asked in surprise as Marjan stood up and pulled him into a hug.

 “Checking on you, of course,” Paul explained as if it were obvious. “And Carlos. How is he?”

 “No change since you left last night,” TK informed them glumly. Paul gave him a sympathetic smile and Marjan squeezed his arm. “How long have you guys been out here?”

 “Not long,” Marjan told him. “Maybe 20 minutes. Cap said you were alone, but then we saw Carlos’s parents come in around the same time we got here so we figured none of you needed any more bodies in his room.”

 “And where is my dad?” TK asked, unable to stop the disdain that entered his tone.

 “I think he went home to take care of Buttercup,” Mateo offered. “I don’t know though; he didn’t say much.”

 TK nodded tightly and he could tell that the others had noticed his tension, but they didn’t push and for that he was grateful. He wasn’t ready to talk about that particular disaster just yet.

 “Have you eaten?” Paul asked instead, tactfully changing the subject. “One of us can go grab some food or…”

 TK smiled, but shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’m ready to eat just yet,” he told them. “Maybe later, but right now…”

 He trailed off but he was sure they all understood. Right now his was full of anxiety and fear. Focusing on something as normal as food seemed impossible.

 “I’ll hold you too that,” Paul assured him firmly. “I know you’re worried, but you still need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him, when the time comes.”

 TK nodded, offering a smile even as he could feel tears filling his eyes. He didn’t think he could ever find the words he to properly express the gratitude he felt at this moment for them all. Their presence and their unwavering certainty that Carlos would be okay. So he settled for a smile and nod. He trusted them to figure out the rest.

 -------------

 It’s several more hours before another familiar face appears.

 Both Nancy and Tommy had called, had offered to stop by but he assured them he was fine. They had a shift after all and given the late noticed they would be doing it shorthanded. They didn’t need anything else to distract them from that. Carlos’s parents had stepped out about 10 minutes prior in search of some fresh air and some food that Andrea informed him in no uncertain terms he would be eating when they returned.

 Even the doctor had been by. He had assured them all that Carlos was progressing nicely and that he would strongly consider taking him off the vent in the next few hours, if everything stayed the same. Which was good news. It was all good news, but TK still couldn’t shake the fear that filled him every time he saw Carlos’s slack face.

 He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat by the door and turned to see Judd studying him before turning his gaze briefly to Carlos. He entered the room and settled into the chair beside TK without a word, not speaking until he was sitting beside him.

 “I don’t know how it’s possible,” he began, “but I think you look worse now than you did last night.”

 TK rolled his eyes at the jab, but even he had to concede that there was probably some truth to that. “Not my fault that someone decide to test the limits of my nerves by spending the day in a coma,” he fired back, but there was no heat in his words.

 Judd nodded solemnly. “I know exactly how you feel,” Judd admitted, and TK knew that he did. It hadn’t been so long ago their roles had been reversed and Judd had been the one in his position, waiting and hoping for the person he loved to open their eyes.

 “Even then I wondered how you did it,” TK confided quietly. “I kept thinking I would never be able to, if it were Carlos in Grace’s position. I was right,” he proclaimed dryly, “because I am barely holding it together.”

 “No one’s expecting you to,” Judd assured him. “You’re allowed to feel the way you feel and ain’t nobody gonna judge you for that. Least of all me. We’ve both been doing this for a while and we’ve both had our share of injuries. You know all about the physical pain, you learn how to handle that. But no one ever prepares you for when the shoe is on the other foot and you are the one doing the waiting because no one can.”

 That sat in silence for a while before TK spoke again, his gaze trained on Carlos. “I just keep thinking about what would happen if he doesn’t wake up,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

 “You would,” Judd said softly, “because you’re stronger than you think, and you wouldn’t be alone. And because it’s what he would want. But it’s not going to come to that.”

 “You can’t know that Judd.”

 “No,” he agreed, “but I have faith. You should too.”

 TK scoffed, “I’m hardly what you would consider religious. My mom may be Jewish, but we never really practiced, and religion was never really my dad’s thing. And I always found other ways of coping when things got tough,” he concluded bitterly.  “So I don’t think ‘faith’ is my best option.”

 “Doesn’t have to be religion,” Judd explained. “You don’t have to have faith in a higher power or anything, if that doesn’t work for you. The only person you need to have faith in is Carlos. Do you believe in him?”

 “More than anybody,” TK agreed without a second thought.

 “Then trust that he is going to do everything he can to make it through this because I personally believe he is every bit as stubborn as you, he’s just quieter about it. And I don’t think he’s ready to leave you yet either.”

 TK pulled his gaze away from Carlos to study Judd. The other man looked so sure that TK couldn’t help but nod. He did believe in Carlos, after all.

 “Can I ask you one more thing?” Judd asked a few minutes later, after they had lapsed back into silence. At TK’s nod he continued, “What’s going on with you and your old man?”

 TK stiffened, but didn’t speak as Judd continued, “Because I find it strange that he’s not here and when I saw him this morning, he looked even worse than he did when you were the one in the coma, and I didn’t think that was possible. Can’t help but shake the feeling that there is something more to this.”

 Judd was watching him expectantly and TK sighed. “They’re saying that the attack on out house was retaliation,” he admitted, “against him. The arsonist trying to scare him off, to get him to stop investigating.”

 “Shit,” Judd breathed, and TK nodded. “I take it you talked to him about and I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

 “I know he didn’t do it on purpose,” TK agreed, “but the fact remains that he had no business getting involved in the first place. That I asked him to stop more than once. But he just carried on like he always does and, well.”

 TK trailed off but his meaning was clear, given their current state and location.

 Judd was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “Lord knows your dad’s not perfect, and he can be a frustrating sonofabitch, but if there is one thing I know for sure it’s that he loves you more than anything.”

 “I know that,” TK agreed, “and I’m not saying I’m never going to forgive him. I know it’s not his fault. But I’m just not ready to forgive him just yet. I will, though.”

 Judd nodded and they lapsed into comfortable silence, the sound of the heart monitor and the ventilator the only sounds between them.

 ---------------

 Eventually the doctor determined it was safe to take Carlos off the vent and to wean him off the sedation. If TK had been determined to not miss anything before, now he was absolutely glued to his seat. He refused to miss the moment Carlos opened his eyes, not after staring at the sight of them closed for so long.

 The moment he did was not dramatic, it looked as if he is just waking up on any given morning but it was still enough to bring tears to TK’s eyes.

 “Hi baby,” he said softly, thickly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He paused for a moment to brush away one of his tears that landed on Carlos’s face as Carlos gave him a smile. It was soft and warm, and it lingered even as Carlos’s eyes closed again as he drifted back to sleep a mere minute later.

 TK sank back into his seat, feeling the relief wash over him like a tidal wave. He had woken up; that was the first step. From here everything should follow in time, and that was all he needed.

 He exchanged smiles with his parents as he pulled out his phone, typing an update into the group chat. He received a deluge of emojis and exclamation points in return and he smiled.

 Everything would be okay now; he was sure of it.

 -----------------

 The rest of the day is filled with the long and arduous process of Carlos rejoining the land of the living, but TK couldn’t care less. He would watch Carlos open his eyes every single second if he could. It still felt like a miracle each and every time.

 Slowly he was able to stay awake for longer periods of time and each time he became a little more lucid. It was sometime in the middle of the night that his voice pulled TK from his own restless slumber and he opened his eyes to see Carlos studying him in concern, his fingers lightly tracing the bandages on his arm.

 “What happened?” he asked, his voice still raspy from both the vent and the smoke.

 “Just some burns, nothing major,” TK assured him evenly. “I’m okay, I promise.”

 “I’ve asked you that before, haven’t I?”

 Carlos was giving him a pointed look and TK laughed, the first genuine laugh he had given in days.

 “Yeah,” TK agreed, “but it’s okay. I’m pretty sure you’ll start to remember soon, and I don’t mind answering whatever questions you have as many times as it takes.”

 Carlos smiled at him – bright and warm in the way only Carlos could manage – and TK felt the last vestiges of dread fall away. Carlos was going to be okay, and so were they. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

 ------------------

 The next morning when Gabriel and Andrea showed up Gabriel looked at TK.

 “They found the arsonist.”

 “What?” TK asked in surprise, sitting upright in his chair. “When? How? Who was it?”

 Gabriel gave a small smile at his rapid-fire questions as Carlos chuckled beside him before his expression grew more serious.

 “It was a woman named Vicki Nadler. She apparently had a list of vendettas against people she felt had wronged her, and a few months ago she was turned down for a position as a paramedic.”

 TK made the connection with a sense of dawning horror, “The position I got.”

 Gabriel nodded and TK shook his head, staring down at his lap and avoiding the gazes of the others in the room, “Then it’s my fault. She was after me. God, Carlos, I am so…”

 “Hey, Carlos said firmly, “it is not your fault.”

 “He’s right,” Gabriel agreed, “people like that, there is no predicting what could set them off or what they perceive as a wrong against them. There is no way you could have known, but it wouldn’t have been your fault anyways. All you did was be the better candidate for a job.”  

 TK knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the guilt gnawing at his gut. Maybe the fire hadn’t been his fault, but something else was. And it was something he needed to fix right away.

 The opportunity presented itself sooner than he thought. The Reyes stayed for a while, conversation flowing comfortably between the four of them. It was about an hour later when Gabriel broke off mid-sentence and cleared his throat.

 “We should be going,” he said, standing from his seat and leaning down to give Carlos a hug. “We’ll come by later to check on you, Carlitos.”

 TK gave Carlos a bewildered look, startled by the abrupt exit until a different but familiar voice drifted in from the doorway, “Don’t leave on my account. I just wanted to check in, I don’t want to get in anyone’s hair.”

 TK stiffened at the sound of his dad’s voice and Carlos gave him a curious, if concerned, look.

 “No,” Carlos’s mother added, “we really should be going anyways. I plan to bring by some home cooked food tomorrow which means I need to be home to cook it. We’ll see you boys later, let us know if you need anything.”

 Then, with a kiss from Andrea for both Carlos and TK, the Reyes were gone and it was only Owen Strand left standing awkwardly in the doorway.

 He glanced at TK, who looked down before shifting his focus to Carlos, a wide smile spreading across his face.

 “It’s good to see you awake, Carlos, how are you feeling?”

 “It’s good to be awake,” Carlos agreed, reaching out for TK’s hand and squeezing it. “And much better, thank you.”

 Owen nodded and glance again at TK, who still had yet to meet his dad’s eyes. He could feel Carlos’s hand tighten on his as his boyfriend spoke again, “My dad was just telling us that they caught the arsonist.”

 “Yeah,” TK heard his dad agreed with a scoff, “that was a surprise. Definitely did not see that one coming.”

 Carlos hummed appreciatively and TK took a breath and looked up, meeting his dad’s eyes for the first time. He was startled to see the same look in them as before; when TK had finally fallen into a fitful sleep all those nights ago, after he had blamed his dad for everything.

 “Dad, I…” he started, but Owen shook his head.

 “You don’t need to apologize son,” he said gently. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

 “Still,” TK insisted, “I implied. And not only was I wrong, but I never should have even hinted that it was your fault. I know you would have never put us in danger, and I knew that then too. I was just...” he trailed off, not sure there were words to describe everything he had been feeling that night. “I’m sorry,” he said instead, “really.”

 His dad held his gaze for several moments before he smiled, and TK could almost see the weight sliding off his shoulders.

 “I’m sorry too,” he admitted. “I still should have listened to you when you asked me to stop. I know you were worried, and I should have listened. I really should have never gotten involved in the first place.”

 “Promise me you’ll never try to take on an arsonist on your own again and we’ll call it even,” TK offered and Owen laughed, crossing over to slid into the chair on the other side of the bed.

 “Deal,” he promised. “My crime fighting days are over. I’ll leave that to the professionals,” he added with a nod at Carlos. Carlos looked baffled, looking between TK and Owen in confusion before shaking his head.

 “I’d be lying if I said I had any idea what that was about,” he admitted, “but I’m glad you got it sorted out.”

 “I’ll tell you later,” TK promised, squeezing the hand still holding his own, “we have time.”

 -------------

 A week later Carlos is finally cleared to leave the hospital.

 “Are you sure your dad doesn’t mind?” Carlos asked for the fourth time in the past hour, “I’m sure we can find somewhere else to stay.”

 “He wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t sure Carlos,” TK pointed out. “Besides, he kind of insisted. I don’t really think we had much of a choice, actually. It makes sense too: there is plenty of room and it’s close enough to the station that once I have to go back to work if you need something during the day either I or someone else on the crew can take care of it without a problem.”

 “I’ll be fine, TK. You don’t have to worry about me.”

 “Humor me,” TK asked drily, and Carlos rolled his eyes. “Besides,” he added, closing the bag he had been packing and crossing the side of the bed where Carlos was sitting and stepping into his space, “I’m always going to worry about you, just like I know you always worry about me. So don’t be a hypocrite, Carlos Reyes. It’s unbecoming.”

 Carlos raised an eyebrow, “Unbecoming, huh?”

 “Yes,” TK confirmed with a solemn nod, “extremely so.”

 “Maybe I could change your mind,” Carlos suggested, placing his hands on his hips and pulling him closer.

 “You can always try,” TK agreed. He leaned closer, happily giving into the kiss that Carlos initiated when a sudden voice from the doorway startled him, causing him to pull away abruptly.

 “You sure your doctor cleared you to do that, Carlos?”

 “Dad!” TK exclaimed, burying his head into Carlos’s shoulder for a moment before turning to face his dad with a scowl, “could you not?”

 “What?” Owen asked innocently and TK groaned.

 Carlos chuckled, though his red face betrayed his own embarrassment and TK took pity on him by changing the subject, “We’re all set to go, we just handled the last of the paperwork.”

 “Then what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Unless you want to see if they’ll let you stay…”

 “No,” Carlos cut in emphatically. “I’d rather leave now, before they change their minds.”

 TK rolled his eyes fondly but offered Carlos an arm to lean on as he stood from the bed. He helped him into the wheelchair a nurse had dropped off as his dad grabbed their bag and they headed towards the door. His dad’s truck was waiting outside, and he helped Carlos into it before climbing in besides him. He studied his boyfriend, noting how much the quick activity had taken out of him.

 Carlos noticed him looking and shook his head, “I’m fine TK,” he said before he could ask, “I’ve just been stuck in a bed for a week. My endurance will come back, I just need to build it back up.”

 “Yeah well, as long as you do it slowly,” TK reminded him. “Pushing yourself could do more harm than good.”

 “As I have been reminded multiple times by both the doctors, nurses, and my paramedic boyfriend. I know, Ty. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

 TK shook his head fondly at him before turning his gaze out the window. He frowned as he processed their surroundings. This wasn’t the way to his dad’s house. He should know; he had done this trip more times than he ever cared to count.

 “Where are we going?” he asked his dad, who just smiled at them in the rearview mirror.

 “You’ll see.”

 He exchanged a confused look with Carlos, who shrugged.

 It wasn’t long before the roads grew more familiar, and TK realized where they were going.

 “Dad…” he started but trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been to their house since. He knew he probably should have gone to see what could be salvaged, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself too. He knew that he probably should, but now seemed like a poor choice in time.

 “Turns out,” Owen explained as they took another turn, bringing them closer to where their home had been, “it wasn’t actually a total loss. Some structural damage, yes, but nothing that couldn’t be repaired. And we’ve had the best working on it all week. As of this morning they informed me they were just putting on the finishing touches.”

 TK stared at his dad. “Are you saying,” he began, “that you hired people to rebuild our house?”

 “Hired seems like a strong word,” Owen replied thoughtfully. “They mostly volunteered and they only thing I’ve been paying them in is takeout.”

 TK was even more confused now and glanced at Carlos to see his own befuddlement mirrored on his face. Before they could ask any more questions, they made the last turn, bringing them to their street.

 TK couldn’t do anything but stare because there was their house, looking none the worst for the wear. He looked over at Carlos to see the same shock in his expression. Their eyes met and TK could see that there were tears in Carlos’s eyes too to match the ones he could feel forming in his own. He reached out and grabbed Carlos’s hand, winding their fingers together as his dad came to a stop and started talking again.

 “We did hire a contractor – a friend of Judd’s – to handle the major structural work and to make sure everything was up to code, but for the most part it’s just been the crew and some friends.” He turned in his seat so he could see them as he smiled, “Turns out there were a lot of people that wanted to help you both. There’s been people from other fire stations, some people from Carlos’s precinct; it’s been a pretty full house here. Which was good, because it meant that we were able to get it done in time.”

 TK was at a loss for words. A glance at Carlos told him that he wasn’t any better off. Owen watched them both for a bit longer before he laughed, “Do you guys want to sit in my truck all day, or do you want to go home?”

 Without a word TK slid out of the backseat, reaching in to help Carlos out as well. He wrapped an arm around Carlos’s waist as they moved up the front walk, letting him lean on him as he opened the door and they stepped inside.

 There was a small crowd in their living room, but it was their living room. It looked much the same as it had. Sure, some of the decorations and knick-knacks they had lying around were gone and the furniture was definitely different, but it felt the same.

 TK looked around, noticing the same elsewhere. It wasn’t the same, but it was standing and that was more than he could have ever asked for at this point. He looked over at the gathered crowd: his crew – both fire and medical, Officer Mitchell, Carlos’s parents. They were all standing and beaming at them and TK was too overwhelmed to put everything he was feeling into words.

 Thankfully, they seemed to understand.

 “It’s not like we were about to let you be homeless,” Marjan quipped as she stepped closer, “besides, we’re pretty handy.”

 TK looked up at Carlos, who met his gaze. His eyes and expression were warm, and TK knew he was feeling the same thing he was: the love emanating from every square inch of their home from these people who cared so much; who had done so much to help them.

 “Thank you,” he finally managed to get out. “I know it’s not nearly enough to cover everything you’ve all done but…thank you.”

 There was chatter then as everyone started talking at once, assuring them that they were happy to do it, that no thanks were needed. There were hugs then and smiles and laughter from all around and through it all, TK never let go of Carlos once. ‘

 Eventually Andrea made her way over to them and pulled them each into a warm, strong hug. TK savored it, beaming at her when she pulled back.

 “Welcome back home,” she told them, Gabriel materializing at her side with a smile.

 TK took another look around, at the gathered crowd already digging into the food that had been provided, through the combined efforts of Charles and Andrea, no doubt. He found his dad in the crowd and met his eyes, giving him another smile of thanks. He’d find time to talk to him soon; to make sure he knew exactly how much he appreciated everything he had done for them, but for now the smile he got in return told him it was enough.

 Finally, he looked at Carlos, who like him had been surveying the room. He felt TK’s eyes on his and turned to meet his gaze, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. TK smiled and turned back to his boyfriend’s parents who were still standing in front of them and watching them with fond smiles on their faces. It was all he could ask for; in all honesty it was more than he had ever dreamed.

 He returned the Reyes’s smiles and squeezed the hand now intertwined with his own.

 “It’s good to be home.”  

[sunaswife]

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

🔪: sorry this chapter is so shitty

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

⚠️: smut included in this chapter

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Fourteen

“How much money did you give to Kita?” You asked, he looked at you for a brief moment before looking back at the road. “Enough for the food he gave us. Kita works hard to harvest and plant rice. He deserves to get paid at least something.” He replied and you slowly nodded your head in understanding. Chewy’s head popped up between you two and you rubbed under his chin with your free hand. Chewy’s tail wagged and he turned back around to join the kids.

The rest of the week was slightly better, Karin was still hesitant around you but you tried acting civilized the best you could. There was no more comments and she was grateful you changed the oil of her car and fixed her brakes. She also smacked Rin for being useless and not knowing how to do that but you waved it off and said that your older cousin showed you how to do it since you were alone at the time.

Now your little trip has ended and you have a a few more hours to go. You’ve allowed the kids to pick their songs during the journey but you desperately wanted to vibe with blink-182 and other classics. After a pit stop for a potty break for chewy and the kids you began your journey again. Once the beginning of I Miss You came on your kids whined, “But we wanted the moana soundtrack.” Akira whined. “You’ve chosen long enough, let us pick a few songs and then you can pick again.” You turned and they nodded with a small pout.

“Hello there the angel from my nightmare—“ you started off and Rin smiled softly. You’ve sang this song many times before when you both would go on dates, but your voice was always light so he could barely hear. But now you were more confident in your voice that you didn’t have a need to sing lightly. That’s another he loves about the new you. “I miss you, I miss you—sing Rin. This was one of your favorite songs!” You encouraged.

“I’m not gonna sing.” He immediately shook his head, “Come on don’t be a party pooper.” You shook his shoulder and asked again. “No I’m not gonna sing with yo—where are you, and I’m so sorry—“ he began to sing and you giggled.

“DONT WASTE YOUR TIME ON ME YOURE ALREADY THE VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD!” You and Rintarou belted out and Rini was bopping his head. Chewy was napping and Akira sighed and patted her tiny hands on her thighs to the beat. She didn’t wanna give in and vibe with the rest of the family.

Rini smiled softly as the next classic rock song came on and you and Rin bopped your heads to the beat. He was glad to know that Rin likes listening to old rock songs like how you do. This was exactly what he wanted.

Everything was going to plan.

“Home sweet home!” Rin took a dramatic deep breath as Chewy began sniffing everything. You immediately began taking out the clothes from the luggage to wash the dirty ones. Rin made his way to his designated room and remembered that you offered up your old bedroom and used your office as your new bedroom. He objected and agreed to sleep on the couch and he even offered to share the bedroom (cheeky little shit) but you declined. When he made it to the room, the sheets were unmade and your clothes were tossed lazily in the hamper.

“Hey yn—“ he called, “Yeah?!” You replied from the living room, “We’re you using my room?” He asked and you wanted to slap yourself. You immediately stood up and made your way down the hall and almost slipped. “Yeah I’m sorry, I was just so tired so I just layed here since this bed is more comfortable then the couch and I was too lazy to pull out my couch bed—“ you began to ramble but was interrupted “yn, calm down it’s fine. I was just curious.” Rin chuckled and flicked your forehead. You rubbed your forehead with a small pout. “Out of curiosity what cologne do you use?” You asked and he turned with a smirk, “Why? Do you like the way I smell?” He asked and you squinted your eyes. “Obviously I like the smell of the cologne or else I wouldn’t be asking. The scent of the cologne lingered onto your pillows so I was able to sleep more at ease—” You bit back but stopped when you admitted your secret.

“Why didn’t you just say so? Ya know if we share a bed you can smell me all the time.” He said smoothly and you facepalmed, “Now you make it sound like I have a smell kink. I’m fine I just liked the cologne.” You said and turned around to continue washing the clothes. Rin frowned as he saw you leave, “Seriously Rin? You can smell me all the time? Your flirt game is way better then that.” Rin immediately scolded himself. After five years of not flirting with anyone, he’s lost his touch.

You made sure the uniforms for the kids were cleaned and you began making preparations for dinner. You were tired of all the traveling and you just wanted to rest, but mom duties never stop. “Hey don’t worry about dinner, I ordered takeout.” Rin leaned against the door frame. “You did?” You asked and he nodded. “From where?”

“Osamu’s.” “I knew it.” You chuckled and stretched your arms over your head. “Yeah, we definitely need to see a chiropractor.” You mumbled. “Next Tuesday when the kids are in school?” He asked, “Is this a weird way of asking me out on a date?”

“If I said date you’d say no, but it’s a...a parent hangout..day..?” He tilted his head and you patted his back. “Okay. We can go.” You nodded and he smiled. Little by little you’ll start to open up again.

Rin did a peace sign and the kids followed suit while they were in the bus. Suna nudged you and you rolled your eyes and did a peace sign too as you saw the bus drive away. You and Rin both returned home after seeing them off and you both lazily sat on the couch. “Just an FYI, I’m finally going to start training with the team. Games will be coming up soon.” Rin said and you nodded. “What division?” You asked, “Division one.”

Your eyebrows widened and you smiled, “Wow look at you rockstar, you always used to slack off and now you’re in a division one team?” You said with a light punch and he smiled. “Yeah I took it more seriously my third year and I was scouted. Before I transferred I was in division one as well.” He explained. “Oh okay. That’s sick. Which team?” You asked, “EJP.” He replied and your mouth opened with a gasp. “With Komori Motoya? He’s one of my all time favorite players!” You exclaimed and his eyes squinted. Is motoya a threat?

“Don’t even give that look, I only appreciate him as a player. Even in highschool, I wished I could have saw him in person during nationals.” You admitted. “Whatever.” He sighed and layed back with his eyes closed. “I can’t get my hopes up that we’ll ever be together. I just hope you tell me soon because I don’t wanna hold on to us if you don’t even want me.” He mumbled. You frowned slightly, yeah you kinda seem like you’re leading him on. “It’s not that I don’t ever want us to be together. I mean I’ve been waiting this whole time. Deep inside I still love you after everything that happened but I’m scared Rin.” Your voice cracked and he immediately sat up and opened his eyes to see your figure. You were hugging your knees and your eyes were watery.

He scooted a bit closer, “What are you so afraid of?” He asked as he put some hair behind your ear. “I’m scared that the past will happen again. We’ll get into a fight and I leave, I don’t want the kids to go through that. They deserve loving parents and I like this system we have, we’re friends and cool co parents. If we add romance it’ll probably ruin everything.” You began to cry, Rin stayed quiet for a bit as you let it out. “But how will we know if we don’t try? I obviously love you—“ “And I obviously love you too but—“

You were silenced when you felt warm and slightly chapped lips against your own, just like back then. Your arms reached for his face and you deepened the kiss purely on emotion. Tears still streamed down your face and you missed this, you truly did. He may have seemed so bored and deadpanned back then but in privacy and in each others company he was a perfect Prince Charming, so gentle and soft when needed. His right hand was holding the back of your head and he felt your soft hair tangle between his calloused fingers.

He missed this just as much or if not even more. Eventually you both pulled away to breath but you initiated the next kiss, and the next one and next one. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed another person let alone made out, same with Rin. He’s just as touch starved. Your cardigan slid off your shoulders and soon enough Rin’s shirt disappeared but you stopped. You rubbed your eyes slightly and looked into his eyes, “Are you sure you want to try again?” You asked and he nodded. “Of course I do.” He said as he hand rested on your cheek. You leaned into his touch and he smiled softly. “You?” He asked, you bit your bottom lip and nodded.

“Yes.”

He pulled you to him, you sat on his thighs and your arms rested on his shoulders, his lips moved to your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands reached to your waist and under your shirt but you grabbed his hands and he stopped before he could even ask for permission. “Is something wrong?” He asked, “I’m just a bit insecure..I’m not that skinny girl from back then, I have stretch marks and my boobs are a bit saggy, I have a bit of fat and I don’t want you to be disgusted.” You said lowly. “Why are you ashamed? It’s normal. Don’t you see this?” He asked and pointed to his upper arm near his arm pit. “I get stretch marks too. You’re not the only one. And who cares if you gained a little bit fat? You’re still beautiful. Your boobs are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful. I didn’t fall for you because you were hot or athletic or anything. I began falling for you because of who you are. Not because of your appearance. Also you’re still fucking hot, my own little milf.” He smirked and kissed your lips once more. “I hate you.” You mumbled against his lips.

“You won’t hate me after this.” He replied back and grinded you over his crotch, you moaned and he sighed. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his abs and you felt all his muscle. Compared to back then he was more of a noodle but now he’s really buff.

You slid your hand down past the waist band of his gym shorts, following his happy trail. It didn’t take long for you to find his cock and Rin leaned back with his eyes closed. “You certainly feel bigger, then the last time I remembered.” You said out loud and he released a small chuckle. You finally looked down and yeah, you could definitely tell the difference. His swollen red tip was already releasing precum and your thumb grazed over, earning a whimper from Rintarou. “Someone seems a little sensitive..” you hummed. “S-shut up.” He moaned as you pumped his cock. You looked up to see his face and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Wow what a switch from back then. Remember when I was a poor little virgin and so inexperienced? You took control and look at us now. You’re so sensitive when I’ve barley done anything.” You told him. “I haven’t had sex in five years.” He defended and finally opened his eyes, his brows were scrunched and you tilted your head to the side. “I haven’t had sex either but I’ve had my fair share of mommy time when I release my stress with the help of toys.” You replied and his hips arched slightly.

He could feel himself getting close with the thought of you touching yourself and saving yourself for him and only him. Nobody else has ever touched you. You’re perfect. “S-stop I’m close.” He warned but you continued and pressed your lips behind his ear. His grip tightened on your waist and he quickly pulled your hand away. Before you knew it you fell on the floor with Rin towering over you. Your hands were trapped over your head and you pouted. “No fun, you never let me be on top.” “I suggest you shut your mouth and let me fuck you stupid.” Your eyes widened at his choice of words and his hand slowly made their way under your camisole. He pulled the shirt up and saw your delicious breasts trapped inside your bra cups. Your face flushed as you saw his eyes darken. “R-Rin..” you mumbled and he looked up. “Take off my shirt.” He obeyed and pulled you up, the camisole came off with one swift motion and he pulled you close to unclip your bra. His lips kissed your shoulder, down your collarbone and between your breasts. “Lay down.” So you did. He pulled your tights off along with your underwear and finally you were completely bare beneath him in the middle of the living room. At least Chewy was outside. “Protection?” Rin asks as he slides off his shorts. “Birth control.” You replied and he breathed a sigh a relief. “Okay cool I don’t have condoms.” He said and you chuckled. Rin slowly opened your legs and drooled at the sight of you. “So fucking pretty I swear. How do you do it? You popped out two kids and you still take my breath away.” He said and kissed you before you could answer or process what he said.

His tip slowly moved up and down your slit, you weren’t wet enough and he’d rather die then hurt you so he slowly inserted two fingers causing you to gasp against his lips. His thumb rubbed your clit while his large and very long fingers pistoned in and out of your wet cunt. The pleasure you felt and loved he poured in made your eyes watery. You just love Rintarou so much. “Don’t cry love, am I hurting you?” He slowly stopped. “N-no, I just love you so much. Fuck I love you with my whole heart.” You said and he chuckled and increased his pace with his fingers, he saw your eyes clench and how your covered your mouth. He immediately pulled your hand away and you couldn’t help but cum when he told you to cum. “I love you so much that porn doesn’t work for me anymore. I always imagined you in order to get off.” He replied. “Always thinking with your cock.” “You love this cock.” “Hmm those toys I have are pretty nic—fuck .”

He bottomed out without going in slowly causing you to grip his upper arms. “Jerk—just cause you’re salty doesn’t give you a reason to treat me like a rag doll.” You looked down between your bodies where you both connected. “But you’ve been teasing me and need a punishment. Handle it like a good girl yeah?” He asked as he pulled out and slammed back in earning a loud moan from you. In all honesty he felt better then any toy you’ve used. People say missionary is overrated but they’re probably not doing it right. He left bruises down your neck and with each thrust his grip tightened on your waist. The rug beneath was hurting your back and you managed to flip Rin over, leaving him speechless. You slowly sat on his cock and he stayed silent watching you on top. You raised your hips and went back down, you leaned your head back as you slowly found a rythem and began bouncing on Rin’s cock.

Rin loved the view of you holding your breasts and squeezing them together while you bounced. Your little moans and whimpers will always be his favorite sound and it didn’t take long for him to grip your upper thighs and thrust himself up leaving you speechless (literally). Soon enough you both came and chewy was crying and scratching the outside of the sliding door so he can come inside. Rin held your limp body in his arms and helped you in the tub. Warm water surrounded you and Rin left to do something and after a good five minutes he came back. He slid in the tub behind you and immediately wrapped his arms around you. “I’m happy I can do this with you.” He spoke softly, “Me too...I’m sure the kids will be happy.” You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious what they were doing.” Rin said and you both chuckled. “They’re our little matchmakers.” You hummed and Rin nodded. You both heard Chewy barking and assumed it was just the mailman outside but all of a sudden the door of the bathroom flung open and there Hana and Jamie were looking at you both with such shocked expressions. You eyes widened when they gasped and Rin covered yourself with his arms. “I-I can explain—“ “FINALLY!” Jamie yelled but Hana rubbed her temples. “Is this just casual or a serious thing?” She asked, “Serious thing.” Rin spoke up and she nodded. “Um....I’ll go make some snacks since the kids should be coming home soon and we need to talk.” Hana said awkwardly and reached to close the door. You could both hear Jamie rant about how happy she was that you both were together. “Well that was awkward..” Rin said and you laughed, “Yeah they’re like that..” you said as you both began to properly wash yourselves. When both you and Rin changed and did an awkward walk of shame to the living room. The couple was waiting for you. You both sat on the couch and waited for what Jamie was about to say. Chewy jumped on the couch and rested his head on your thighs, “First off, I apologize for the intrusion. You weren’t answering your calls or texts so we immediately got worried and came over. And second, Rintarou if you break her heart I will break your face. Try to hurt her and I’ll get the best lawyers of Japan to go against you, okay?” She said. Rin gulped and nodded, “Yeah I get that..” he spoke up, “And third, I’m going to the US for about a month.” Hana said and you tilted your head confused, “But Jamie’s due date is soon.. you won’t be here when she goes into labor.” You said, “I know but...my next client is picky and important. I wanted to stay but even Jamie is pushing me to go.” “I just want an autograph. Our baby can wait till you come back.” Jamie said and you tried not to laugh. It was an obvious Jamie thing to say. “That being said, I don’t want her being left alone. We have midwives but they can’t be with her 24/7.” She said. “She’s more then welcomed to stay here, I’ll help her with whatever I can.” You said and then turned, “Sorry I forget it’s not just my home anymore. What do you think Rin?”

“It shouldn’t even be a question. I’m sure this is a scary thing and I’ll help too. Plus it’ll be good practice for when yn gets pregnant .” Rin sighed and wrapped his arm over your shoulder but you elbowed his stomach. He winced and the girls couldn’t help but laugh. “So it’s settled?” Hana asked, “Of course!” You smiled.

“I leave tomorrow.”

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

[vminity21]

Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: handyman!namjoon X preacherskid!reader, bestfriend!taehyung X pregnant!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 10,958

Genre: mysterious/angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): strong language use, semi-detailed childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping, lots of flashbacks but that is the point of the story i sorry; Rated: 18+

Summary: A sheltered life leads to harbored secrets that are buried in order to protect someone you are falling in love with. As the time is nearing for the life growing inside you to be welcomed into the world, the reminiscences of all the moments unfold to reveal a beautiful story that needed to be told.

Credits to: @suhdays​ for making such a phenomenal header! The talent she has never ceases to amaze me!

The graying of the clouds is all you can see beyond your window other than the panging rain droplets now trickling upon the glass. Arm resting against your forehead, your lips press into a straight line in response to the series of thoughts circling your mind. Carefully, you slide your palms upon the mattress in an attempt to sit up, wanting to see more of the view besides the crying sky. Knuckles curling to rub your tired eyes, you furrow your brows, the comforting warmth of the bed covers remain tangled between your shins. Leafless trees border the side of the building save for a small swing set; a paved section decorated with a basketball hoop where a large shed stands many feet across from it. If one is to step outside the front of the structure, there sits a church surrounded by a gravel parking lot where the neighboring land hosts a barbed wire fence with an abandoned house and field.

It's been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you've been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, "Oomf," a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn't one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

"So, when are you going to tell us?" The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver's side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it's been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor's appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, "we have a right to know."

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you're freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, "Oh!" You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, "Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?" Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can't help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you've decided since your first doctor's visit that you do not want to know your baby's gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you're more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

"Oh Namjoon, you scared me," a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you're okay," he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

"It's no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,"

His dimples show from the way his lips press in a tight smile, nodding in reply, timorously turning to waltz to the outdoors in preparation of the day ahead. You watch until he disappears from your line of vision; the creep of a blush burning from your chest to your cheeks. Raking your hands through your hair, you force yourself once again to deny the attraction seeping through your soul thankful your blush attacked after he left.

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father's wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father's office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It's strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung's arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

"Shhh," he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, "It's going to be okay," he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you're thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

"How?" You choke back another sob, "How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that's what it comes down to? Shit... My dad is going to fucking kill me," Taehyung's shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

"Okay, now, you're being dramatic,"

"So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren't going to take this lightly,"

"Yeah, but I think it's safe to say that telling your parents you're pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,"

"Okay? Perhaps, you're right," a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, "especially not with what's been going on with the church, I don't know how much more they can take,"

"Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom," Taehyung's icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can't help but endure.

"Tae, I'm so so sorry,"

"Hey," he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you're just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, "you didn't know," sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you're close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you're going through, but you're not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung's lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can't stop yourself, and you don't, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. "Tae," you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn't right. He knows this isn't right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there's anyone in this world you do not want to lose it's him.

There's no refraining, there's no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you're so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. "[Y/N]," he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. "[Y/N]," he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, "We- we can't,"

You haven't seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It's a secret you've suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can't help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother's affair with your father.

Rage isn't enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven't spoken to him. You'll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that's something that's hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church's back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung's family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, "[Y/N]?"

"Yeah?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you're grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, "Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it's time... for you to have the baby?"

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you've had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you're too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don't have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

"It's okay, it's okay," the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You're embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your lips.

"You don't have to be sorry,"

"That... wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can't bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn't discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn't one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can't seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?" Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

"How can you say that, [Y/N]?" The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can't care for the child that you're six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. "Look at me," are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It's the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon's eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. "You're going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,"

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about," it's not a question, he's stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. "You're stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?"

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, "I do,"

"Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn't have a choice, and you'll let him or her know the second they're born,"

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

"You don't have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn't know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor's appointment bright and early," the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

"Wait!" You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, "Can you uh, ... Can you stay in here with me tonight?" You've refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that's become apparent, and even now, you haven't been able to comprehend how he's not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he's already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, "Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are," you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it's no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

"Have you thought about any names?" Taehyung's voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You've missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you're currently heating on the stove.

"No?" It's a brief question of guilt, something you haven't been ready to ponder, "Honestly... haven't thought that far ahead yet," you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, "I should have known,"

"Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?"

"Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,"

"Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,"

"And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,"

"Since how? I-"

"Ask Hoseok,"

"You lost a bet didn't you-"

"And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won't I?"

"With me around, you will,"

Hoseok is the deacon's son who's dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He's not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you're thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

"You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-"

"Oh!" You playfully growl, "Back with that again, huh?"

"Do I need to send you a link of baby names-"

"I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?"

"You'd be surprised-"

Taehyung's excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

The phone call ends whenever dinner is finished, and by that time, Namjoon scuffles through the door- the outdoorsy scent drifts to your nose while you place the sweltering bowls of soup on the table. Namjoon shimmers his feet from his work boots before hanging his coat, timidly glimpsing in your direction to confirm you're okay.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon's atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you've kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you're around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you're uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

"They don't know," your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon's soft eyes on you, his expression confused. "They don't know who the father is," that's when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you're referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, "I won't tell them." Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you're trying to bury beneath this web of fear. "Besides," you sigh heavily, "I'm surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here," you confess, "if he wasn't so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-"

"I wouldn't let that happen," Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he's proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor's appointment without any hesitation; with all that he's been doing for you, it's like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn't be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon's been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He's so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she's free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

"Are you thinking boy or girl?" Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

"Hm," you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that's being redeemed with her, "you know? I'm not very sure,"

"I can tell from all the colors you've chosen," she teased, "it looks beautiful," she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn't want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. "You're going to be a wonderful mother,"

The sound of the front door opens distracting you from the former memory, staring down at the table that now rests heaping plates of chicken and rice. The fellowship hall used to be filled with numerous rows of horizontal tables mingled with circular ones where the crowd would come to camaraderie to joyful hymnals, delicious food, reflected testimonies without any warning of the secrecies soon floating to the surface. Now a solo table, the one planted before you, pairs with a few sparse chairs just enough to seat at least four people.

"Hiya," you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, "How was your day?"

"It was good, thank you," he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, "How was yours with your mom?" His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It's hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, "It was good," you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, "Thank you... For helping me," the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you've been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

"Anytime."

A blush floods your cheeks when he holds your timorous stare, so you avert your eyes to your dinner, letting the obvious feeling of Namjoon watching deepen the red shade on your skin. A few minutes disappear into time before you feel a shove against your abdomen from the inside. Your hand instinctively flies to press upon the baby bump, Namjoon jumping at the motion, stopping mid-chew, while his eyes enlarge in surprise.

"It's okay," you chortle at his reaction, "it's just the baby kicking," his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that's hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

"Here," you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It's the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

"I told you that you don't have to do this alone," he whispers, and it's then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can't refrain. He's too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That's all the invitation needed, for Namjoon's lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you've been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don't care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that's going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you've slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you're on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It's eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, "SURPRISE!", nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. "What?" You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

"Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!"

"I'm still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!" You say breathlessly, you're so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend's shoulder. Taehyung's fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, "Your father let you come?" There's a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae's father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, no," Taehyung winces mischievously, "I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,"

"Of course, you did, you sly fox,"

"You know you love me," Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

"You guys didn't have to do this," you're still wiping tears off your face, though it's evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, "Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so," he tilts his head toward Taehyung, "And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,"

It doesn't take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

"You two are on kissing terms, again?" Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that's something you're not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon's face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung's hair while some swiped across Namjoon's neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it's good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you're not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung's heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. My dad's expecting me home soon,"

"I don't want you to go," you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

"Please don't cry," he whispers near your ear, "Please, please don't cry," His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. "Oh my gosh!" You squeal, "Tae, it's adorable! Where did you find this?"

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, "I made it myself. And," he pauses for effect, "since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta."

"Ta Ta?"

"Yeah, like 'Ta Ta... for now,'"

"Just when I thought I couldn't love your dork of a self even more," you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

"I love you, too." His voice thickens with emotion, "Now, quit saying it like you're never going to see me again, because you know I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It's a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he's always found within your heart. Taehyung's agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what's been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that's displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

"I promise."

He hadn't kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it's too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae's departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It's dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You've missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend's presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You're highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child's cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

-

2 months later....

"Namjoon, I'll be fine," the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He's concerned as he's been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, "I'm not due until next week. Don't worry,"

"I know," he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, "But, I can't help it."

"I'll be fine," you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you're now feeling upon your lips. "Mm," you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, "You'll be back before you know it," you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

"Okay," he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, "I love you,"

There's a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, "I love you, too, Joon," watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn't go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. "Oh," you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what's happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

"No," you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn't be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no 'thump' is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. "Agh!" A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn't take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Joon, it's time," you choke, voice thick with pain.

"Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I'm on my way, just hold tight, I'm coming-"

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, "[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He's going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am," Namjoon's polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you've grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There's a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, "[Y/N], I'm here! Baby, I'm right here," he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn't end, "I'm going to grab the suitcase, I'll be right back," time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver's side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he's slowly but surely learning is that you're not one to give up so easily- something you've noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he's on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn't breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

"Come help me," you plea hearing Taehyung's exasperated sigh on the other line.

"You are so annoying,"

"You know you love me, fool," you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

"He doesn't even come to the services," Jo droned, "Don't you think it'd be best to get to know someone that's more... active in the church? Like the pianist's son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-"

You can't get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, "I'll catch you later,"

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you're thinking about other than Namjoon who's keeping you sane.

"Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe," his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

"GAH!" Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

"You guys aren't going to stop until I'm your friend, am I right?" Namjoon's elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

"Damn straight," you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon's tilting head.

"I thought church girls didn't cuss,"

"And I thought you'd have more game than the basketball," You retort.Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, "Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?"

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, "Okay," the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung's arms.

"HAH!" You sprint, colliding into Taehyung's embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, "Looks like it's going to be a burger and fries' kind of night," you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you're safe. "It's okay, it's okay," he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN' – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE' helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon's calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You're not sure of all the commotion that's overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, "Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out." Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, "Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,"

"Taehyung... My mom... Dad-" you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

"No worries baby, they're on their way. They're on their way right now," he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon's atheism as well as him providing for his family.

"My dad couldn't find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes," it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. "Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck..." Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you've been determined to gain since meeting him.

It's weeks later that you'll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you've grown so fond of. There's no denying the feelings he's had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn't left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn't seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. "Ten centimeters-" He confirms, "Alright, [Y/N], the baby's coming. When I say push, you push. Okay," he positions himself though you can't see anything past your gown and raised knees, "One, two, three! Push!"

"AGH!" You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

"Breathe, breathe," Namjoon's hand hasn't once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

"Is she here!?" The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. "Oh, honey, I'm here!" It's your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung's red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, "Push!"

"AAAAAAAGH!" You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon's. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

"I'm- I'm so glad you both are here," you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, "Push!" erupts.

"I'm scared," you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon's soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don't know where your parents are, and you're too angry to care. You're bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you'd hate to discover what the consequences will be.

"Me too," his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You've never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you're curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, "I want you," you whisper. He knows that you're a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. "Are you sure this is what you want," concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I don't think I've wanted anyone so much in my life,"

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you've grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. "More," you beg, "Please, Joon, more." When clothes start to be thrown off, you're determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. "Show me," you breathlessly demand, Namjoon's palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You're surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn't bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. "Holy shit," he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you're hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, "Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!"

He's not ready for you to finish because there's more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

"Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!"

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung's gaze doesn't drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you're ready to see the child you've been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin's. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, "It's a girl,"

"Oh!" You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

"Sir, would you like to do the honors?" The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can't even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

"Wait," Your mom says, "Is- is?"

It's a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung's shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

"Yes," the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad's although your mother's stare remains on you, "Namjoon is the father."

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter's heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter's cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, "She is seven pounds and five ounces,"

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father's quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

"Are you ready to hold her?" Monnie's kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

"Yes," you stifle a sob, "I want to hold her,"

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. "She's so perfect," you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter's fingers fold individually upon her chest.

"Just like you," Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

"I love you, Joon," you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too."

"Uh," the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, "So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question," the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, "What's her name?"

"Ah," you nod, realizing that hasn't been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he's ever longed for and more, and he's ready to defeat any storm in life if it's with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae's question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

"Taejun." Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

"Her name is Kim Taejun."

[thebookreader12345]

Meet the Parents

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: Jay and Y/N have been dating for awhile now, and it’s finally time for Jay to meet her parents

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of having sex

Word Count: 1,596 Words

“Look at that. Another case solved. We are officially the best unit ever,” Adam spoke.

I laughed. “I mean, you’re not wrong. Hey, has anyone seen Jay?”

“He was just in the locker room,” Hailey informed me as she packed up her things.

“Yeah. Any reason why he looked like he was about to piss himself?” Antonio asked me.

“He’s meeting my family for the first time tonight. I should go talk to him. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I tell the team and make my way towards the locker room. When I got inside, I found Jay sitting down on one of the benches, his legs resting on either side of the wood. “Hey,” I greet and straddle the portion of the bench in front of him so that we were mirror images. “What’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me?” Jay asked and looked up at me.

“Why would you think that? You’re an amazing guy, Jay,” I murmur and take his hands in mine. “And my parents and sister are going to love you.” I leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, which lasted longer than I expected, but I didn’t mind. When Jay and I finally parted, I rested my forehead against his. “I love you.”

Jay gave me a small smile. “I love you too.” After leaving the locker room, Jay and I packed up our things and headed back to our shared apartment. While we had only been dating for a few months now, we had known each other from work for a good amount of time, so it wasn’t a hard choice to make when Jay asked if I wanted to move in with him. At the apartment, I kicked off my shoes, took off my jacket, and then dragged Jay over to the couch for some cuddle time. I pressed myself against his chest and draped an arm over his waist, him doing the same for me, and just laid against him. Being in Jay’s arms always put me at ease, and I’m sure it did the same for him because I could feel the shift in his mood. For a while, we lounged around the house, but soon, it was time to get ready to go to dinner at my parents’ house.

“Babe, are you almost ready?” I ask and head into the bedroom, only to find Jay staring at his dresser. “Jay, why are you not dressed yet?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” Jay replied.

I chuckled softly and walked over to his dresser, pulling out a plain gray t-shirt and blue jeans. “Put this on. It’s my favorite outfit on you, except when you’re naked, of course.” Jay shook his head with a smile playing at his lips and took the clothes from my hands. “Now go get changed. I don’t want to be late.” Once Jay had finally gotten dressed, we made our way out front where my car was parked and climbed in. As we started driving, I could tell Jay was beginning to get nervous again. It didn’t take long to get to my parents’ house, and as soon as we got out of the car, I wrapped my arms around Jay’s torso. “Just be yourself. Everything is going to work out. I promise.”

“Okay,” Jay mumbled and laced his fingers with mine as we made our way up to the front door. I rang the doorbell, hearing the pleasant jingle go off in the house, and seconds later, the door opened to reveal my little sister, Elizabeth, or Lizzie for short. She was a whole 8 years younger than me, which, when we were little, was a huge difference, but now it didn’t matter too much.

“Hey, Lizzie,” I greet and step forward to give her a hug. Lizzie hugged me back quickly, and when I stepped back, I glanced towards Jay. “Lizzie, this is my boyfriend Jay. Jay, this is my sister Lizzie.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jay spoke and held out his hand, which Lizzie shook politely.

“You too,” Lizzie greeted and scanned him up and down before turning to me. “Y/N, why wasn’t I aware that your boyfriend was this hot? I would have put on some nicer clothes.”

“You look fine right now,” I tell her and lead Jay into the living room, where Lizzie’s college textbooks were scattered all over the coffee table.

“What are you studying?” Jay asked Lizzie.

“Uh, molecular biology. Sorry about the mess,” Lizzie muttered and went to clean up her books.

“It’s cool. My older brother actually majored in biology. He’s a doctor over at Chicago Med,” Jay said.

“Y/N? Is that you?” my mother called out from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Yeah. Is dad with you?” I question and gesture for Jay to follow me.

“Of course he is. You know he can’t go 5 minutes without sneaking some food,” my mother replied. I laughed and went down the hallway at the back of the living room, which had the bathroom, dining room, and stairs branching off from it, and at the back of the house was the kitchen, where both my mom and dad were. My mother was busy putting dough into a circular tray while my father was digging through the pantry looking for something to snack on. My mother then looked up from what she was doing, and when she saw me and Jay, she smiled. “You must be Jay. Y/N talks about you quite a bit, you know.”

Jay grinned. “I wasn’t aware.”

“Well, I can see why. You’re very handsome. You and Y/N would have beautiful babies,” my mother commented.

“Mom,” I hiss as I felt my cheeks begin to heat up.

“What? I’m just putting it out there. Do you like deep dish, Jay?” my mom asked.

“I love it,” Jay responded.

“Good. I’ve been making it homemade since Y/N was born. Louis, get your head out of the pantry and greet Jay,” my mom scolded to my father, who still hadn’t emerged from the pantry.

“Yeah yeah, Janine,” my father said and exited the pantry, closing the door behind him. He then extended his hand to Jay. “It’s nice to meet you, son.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. L/N,” Jay concurred.

“All right. I’m going to show Jay around. Please do not take out any embarrassing photos while we’re gone,” I urge my mother.

“No promises,” my mother said with a small smile. I shook my head and led Jay out of the kitchen and up the stairs, where we entered the first door on the left.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I reveal. Nothing had changed since I had moved out to attend college. The walls were a light gray along with the carpet and my bed set, seeing as I had a neutral theme going on. My twin sized bed sat in the far right corner with my desk in the far left. On it were some fake plants, a few picture frames, and scattered souvenirs I had picked up along the years. Immediately on our right you had my dresser, and to our left I had two white beanbags sitting on the floor. Jay headed straight to my desk and examined the pictures within the frames.

“You have not changed one bit,” Jay told me.

“Oh shut up,” I tease. After showing Jay the rest of the house along with the backyard, dinner was finally ready. We all sat down at the kitchen, and that’s when the questions started.

“So, Jay, how long have you been a police officer?” my father asked.

“Not my whole life, like some people may think. I actually used to be in the army. I was a Ranger,” Jay informed my family.

“No shit. I was in the Marines,” my father responded.

“When did you know you wanted to be with Y/N? I want all the details,” Lizzie demanded with a huge smile on her face.

“Um, there was one night after work where Y/N and I were at Molly’s together having a few beers. And as we were talking, I realized that I couldn’t survive without her, so I asked her out,” Jay answered. Finally, after eating dinner and talking for about another hour or two, it was time for Jay and I to head back out to our apartment. Jay was waiting for me by the front door when my mother pulled me aside.

“He’s a lovely guy, Y/N,” my mother exclaimed. “I really like him.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Me too. I’ll talk to you later, mom.” As Jay and I walked out of the house hand and hand, I stopped in my tracks and pulled Jay down so that our lips touched. I could feel Jay smile against my lips as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest.

“What was that for?” Jay asked me.

“I love you,” I tell him.

Jay grinned. “I love you too. So, how’d I do?”

“Amazing. My whole family loves you. I told you it’d be fine,” I reply.

“And you were right. What do you say we get back home and celebrate on how well this went?” Jay suggested.

“What are you thinking?” I question.

“Maybe an activity that involves your clothes on the floor,” Jay whispered in my ear, which sent a shiver down my spine.

“You don’t know how turned on that just made me. You better speed home,” I state.

“Oh, I was planning on it,” Jay said.

__________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

[secretaryunpaid]

I think I wanna Marry you (part 2)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,000 approx (what can I say, I love Love)

Warning: Lot’s of sex, it’s their wedding night !!!

~~~~~ The Grandhotel Pupp, Czech Republic ~~~~~

“Abiento, Sra. Dalton.” 

“Excuse you, I’m no Dalton ...”

“My apologies Sra., then perhaps I should presume you to be a guest of Sr. Samuel Dalton’s party.” 

“I’m Sra. Dalton’s aunt, but that wouldn’t be any of your business now would it?” 

“Sincere apologies. I didn’t wish to offend... Please, let me take care of your stay to make this up to you. I own the hotel, and just wanted to be hospitable to our esteemed guests.”

 After allowing him to do as he stated, taking his card as requested should she require anything further, Dahlia’s Aunt Marilyn finally met up with her older sister Patricia, explaining her delay... very much to Patricia’s disbelief. 

Marilyn continues... “Well, I wouldn’t mind a free stay in the hotel... He was so insistent, I wasn’t going to admit that I have a home here... Let’s take full advantage of the spa and other amenities... We can question our Dahlia a bit more about this billionaire boyfriend turned husband a bit later. It’s a good thing we talked to Riley isn’t it... Dahlia will be very surprised to see us...”

~~~~~ The Greeting, Take 2  ~~~~~

Having received word of their helicopter arrival, he makes his way quickly to the front desk to greet his most influential guest. “Anton Edison, welcome to my hotel Mr. &  Mrs. Dalton... I’d like to personally invite you to my Casino in Monaco as my private guests... Consider it my wedding gift to you, along with this stay being my compliments... (Both Sam and Dahlia look as if this is some sort of prank until he assures them otherwise, giving Sam his personal Exclusive Contact card.) ... No pressure, just please let me know, should you decide to take me up on my offer. Enjoy your stay!”

As introductions conclude, Anton returns to his private office, pondering if the couple will actually take them up on his generosity... He must have an answer prior to his and their departure from this hotel... An impromptu dinner or meeting will just have to occur... This opportunity will not pass him over... it is crucial that he succeed.

Anxious to start this “Dalton’s love story” he has planned, he practically drags his bride to the private paternoster... But he is respectful of Anton’s hospitality, only kissing her teasingly as the ascent to their room begins. The second wedding had Sam feeling that not only the ceremony deserved a do over.

Once in their room, Sam insists that Dahlia shower, telling her that he wants to make preparations for dinner before joining her... wanting it to be a surprise, and pleading with her through kisses to allow him his way this once.

Setting up his “surprise” with lightning speed, having pre-planned everything down to the last word. He joins her in the shower, totally distracting her mind to prevent any questions as to what he was up to. 

After getting properly dressed for this wondrous evening planned, Sam slips out to take his position just before she comes out adjusting her jewelry... looking up to find Sam looking like a lost Cupid ... which puts a deep smile on her face...

“First, I have the infused chocolates... to heighten our mood...”

“Next, I’ve poured the champagne... You know ... to get the tickles in your mouth before I taste those lips...” She closes her eyes, looking away from the playfulness. When she turns back, Sam is holding a rose between his teeth and a sign... resulting in her audible face palm... 

“More lovemaking? After we just completed that and got all dressed up? But we’ve got the whole stay... And I must tell you love, that although it feels brand new each time... (she whispers, hand against face) It’s no longer an unexpected surprise!”

“Ah, just teasing... but you’ll be asking for this sign again very shortly...”

“Sam, truly what’s going on?” He looks at the sign, rolling his eyes at the oversight...

“Oh shit, I am showing the wrong side... Let me try that once more... “

“Marry me woman !!!? Please... I can’t live without you...” 

“What happened to going down on one knee, Sam?” (Finally understanding what Sam has been trying to do all of this time...)

“Oh baby, I’ll do you one better and go down on you on both knees... Come here, and let me plead for you to marry me... Lick by lick!”

“I’ve still got it!” He teases her, reminding him of the first time he chose to propose... both agreeing that it truly wasn’t the best time... Her reminding him of how romantically unplanned the second proposal was, but truth be told, this is the one she would have ugly cried through before devouring him. “Love, you could never be ugly... no matter what you do.”

After giving it much thought, Sam sent a text to Anton, stating, “Monaco sounds fun, and my wife is anxious to take in the best that Monaco has to offer! Look forward to meeting with you again!”

~~~~~ Rewind to the Wedding Night  ~~~~~

Running a single finger down her sternum, lightly pinching her breasts, tracing her sides until his hands meet her hips, he whispers his plans for her tonight.

Tonight, he’ll be taking her as his wife, not a woman whose affections he has been chasing for support or desire. Tonight… the heights of pleasure he is planning to drag her through will be on a much higher level, knowing her instinctual resistance will only stimulate his drive even more.

He seductively teases her as hidden as possible as they sway through their first dance of the night. Yes, their coming together after their first joining to one another as husband and wife was ethereal and stitched him to her in a way he didn’t think possible again. But this marriage… before family and friends … permanently enclosed his heart with hers in his eyes.

She’d never looked more beautiful on any other day. He was blessed to lay eyes upon her. As he traced the outline of her lips, he imagined them encapsulating his length. Envisioning her teasing his scrotum… drawing shivers from him as her small fingers glide along his pubic hairs, reaching his hips… inducing the assisted gyration within her drooling mouth… increasing her hold with her perfect tongue pressure… inciting satisfied groans… 

“Babe, open your eyes… You’re groaning out loud,” she laughs… “Thinking about us, are you?”

His slow kiss gives all the response she needs. He releases her, twirling her around, capturing her back into his embrace … Her back pressed to his chest as he grinds into her the way he’d wished he could privately, but in a way that was respectful to onlookers… if there is such a thing… But, soon his restraint falters… He wants his wife to know his full desire.

Dragging her over to the microphone, he makes an announcement that he and his bride need a few private moments, “Please enjoy the Cristal, music and cake… We hope to return to the celebration, but don’t be too upset if we happened not to… Mom… Dad... twin duty? Thank you everyone…” All Dahlia can do is wave briefly before he lifts her, practically running with her as the crowd’s laughter quickly faded in the distance…

Unable to hold back any further, he finds a secluded corner, lowering her down to her feet… turning her against the wall, dropping to his knees and covering himself under her gown… tasting her already overflowing desire… her head pressing hard into the brick, uncaring of its grittiness.

His constant lapping of her center draws out an uncharacteristic lisp as she whispers her scream of his name. Needing her against him, he stands, hurriedly exposing his overpowering erection, burying it so excitedly into her that it causes her to seemingly climb the wall… both now burning with a need uncontrolled, insatiable, moving with a building friction that brings her love sounds repeatedly … now fueling his own sounds in answer…

“Sam, I need you covering me … Room! Now!” Reluctantly he withdraws, pulling her away from the wall… both now in an excited sprint … Their room is still much too far away to reach … Their growing need for satisfaction overcomes them, so they maintain connection through touch and short kisses.

Coming across cleaning staff, Sam brings them to a near missed stop at her side. “Excuse me Miss… Do you have a room available like, right now! Dahlia buries her face in his neck from sheer embarrassment as he pulls out his wallet. The staff takes notice of their attire and, without hesitation, opens the door out of which she just exited.

Quickly handing her what could easily been over five grand, he carries Dahlia in hurriedly, kicking the door closed, reaching up to put the additional lock on

Now desperately searching her dress for any means to remove it .. feeling way too impatient, he rips it down her back side… to her shock. “Sam !!! It had a zipper !!!” “Can’t wait,” he says as his tongue spirals along her bare skin… already moving out of his own clothes… When he spins her around, both are completely free of clothing…

He pulls her to the bed’s edge, kissing, groping… moaning … Switching positions, he now stands behind her, pushing her into a bend, entering her before he hardens even more … Her gripping of the sheets and muffled whimpers spur his rapid thrusts, her ass clapping against his frame … He grips her hips, ramming himself deep as her walls swallow him repeatedly ...

“Too? … Rough?,” is his broken question… Her throaty, “No… Harder !!,” sends an excitement through him. Before she realizes, she is flush against the mattress with him closing her legs inside of his … Now situated atop her ass, driving deeply, slapping her cheeks before laying against her backside … stroking roughly as she returns his thrust … his hands gripping her hair, marking his territory with such vessel shattering kisses, she claws his ass, spurring him even further still…

“Yes, ba-by… Yesss!,” she hisses. He continues this way until his need to see how she is enjoying him causes his withdrawal, her audible disappointment and turning to pull him back to her proving more than any vision of her clenched eyes could prove…

She all but snatches him back onto her. His rushed entry draws out the sound of pain… He stops, but she moves against him… “No, Sam … Don’t stop!” Driving even deeper still, his forceful movements back her up into the headboard, but she opens herself to him as wide as she could, separating her legs in a lifted grip… her own nails practically piercing her skin…

Sam grips the headboard, determined to send every ounce of his longing through her … Soon they both are screaming each other’s name... her orgasm cascading pleasurably over his slowing strokes… but he withdraws, both watching his seed flow against her mound … spreading it until nearly dried.

Leaning to her ear, Sam whispers, “I’m not ending this night this early … I won’t cum inside you until you beg me to …” Her desperate kiss, tongue pulling, and lip biting, provides her approval … “Let’s get to our room now. I have so many pleasures in store for you tonight, my love,” ending his confession in another sensual breathtaking kiss …

Chests heaving, he pulls her to the pile of clothes on the floor … Realizing now that there is no way she can put her dress back on, they both snicker over his previous over excitement, which is quickly escalating at the bounce of her breasts as she laughs.

“It’s okay… I’ll hold it in place somehow.”

“Here, put my suit coat over it.”

He peers out of the doors, seeing the cleaning staff giving a bashful smile… “Okay, let’s get out of here…” Pulling her yet again in another sprint, her dress catches, almost exposing her… Sam scoops her up, kissing her, steadfast in their rush to reach their room … Shaking her head and covering her lips in a slight grin, the woman enters to clean the room once again. Totally surprised at how disheveled the room had been left in such a short stay.

Now inside, heading towards the elevator, he sees a group of frustrated guests, implying that the elevator has kept them waiting. They give each other a defeated look, but soon Sam sees another cleaning cart… They both nod in agreement, and soon he is rounding the corner.

“Excuse me!... Excuse me!” The gentleman stops pushing the cart of soiled linen to address them… “Is there a private elevator or staff lift?” Noting Dahlia’s clothing dilemma and marriage attire, he leads them to the corner elevator. “It takes a key to operate, so I’ll have to escort you…” 

“FINE!!!” Both laugh, as the man shakes his head knowingly. Pulling her into the furthest corner of the elevator, Sam lowers her, taking a protective stand in front of his wife’s exposed frame. He removes his wallet, taking out another wad, handing it hurriedly to the staffer. Quickly standing to his side, speaking in a whisper, the gentleman clears his throat in understanding.

Sam steps back to Dahlia, with her immediately tugging his shoulder down to inquire of the words spoken to the man. Turning, Sam lowers his head to her ear saying that he told him to forget what he was about to hear. And with that, he was falling to his knees, kissing his way up her calves, knees, thighs… until he reached her… “OH !!!” … center... covered with her dress yet again. She fought for quiet,  failing miserably.

For each floor the elevator was forced to stop on, the staffer would wave the incoming staffer away, hurriedly pressing for the doors to close. Sam peers from under her dress, realizing he never told what floor, but the staffer said, “We’ll reach the honeymoon suite shortly Mr. Dalton. I mean, sir !!” With that, he's back under the layers of dress once again, Dahlia gasping in the best efforts at silenced pleasure as she could. Once the elevator chimes it’s final time, the staffer steps out to clear the hallway of possible guests to avoid further exposure… “All clear, but not for-” 

“Ooooh, Sam!!! Yessss !!”

Clearing his throat loudly, the bride and groom take the hint, Sam carrying her down the hallway hurriedly once again, Dahlia burying her head in his chest. Shaking his head with a smirk, the staffer enters the elevator, understanding their “rush” with familiarity. Planning out his use of the $10K amnesia payment… wondering how many more private elevator rides will be needed with a hearty laugh.

Finally inside their honeymoon suite, Dahlia leaps from Sam’s arms, now tearing his clothing free, lowering herself to his engulfed member, teasingly drawing his deep inhales, her hair now being ruffled into a knotted mess… holding him assisted as her strength allows against his pelvis, she works him desperately, hungrily pleasing him to no end… until he unloads … She allows him to watch her take every drop… 

“Perfection !!!” He pulls her into his lustful kiss, then holds her, forehead to forehead, hearts beating erratically. Neither satisfied, both expecting a totally sleepless night. 

“Mrs. Dalton…” 

“Yes, Mr. Dalton…”

“I’m going to eat you alive! But first…”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s hydrate !!!”

Both break into laughter, heading over to the chilled champagne, walking over with the bucket and glasses, lowering themselves into the jacuzzi. Sam guided her between his legs so that he could hold her tenderly, pouring their first drink of the night.

“Sam, I don’t think this really counts as hydration…”

“Then we’ll just have to keep drinking each other,” he says with hunger building in his eyes yet again. “You know this is your fault for putting me on hiatus until tonight?...”

She smiles into his lips … “I’m not complaining one bit, though…” Her lips now making a heated trail down his center, coupled with an enticing tongue flicker…

By checkout, there is a mess of wax and torn sheets strewn throughout, in the midst of empty bottles, lost lingerie, and a note with a generous tip left for the cleaning crew… The words written:

“Off to our honeymoon! Our deepest apologies for the … yeah !!! The Daltons … Please let us know if jacuzzi replacement costs are required.” … Sam’s signature on the back of his business card.

“Nope, consider this celebration’s damage on the house, lol” She didn’t think her tip last night could get any better, but after her shift, she’s off to shop for her new car. “Come again!,” she exclaims, laughing at the happenings that must have gone on in this room ...

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of August. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.

Happy reading!

1) Move Out | Explicit | 1525 words

Harry and Louis are moving in together, so they might as well make the most of Harry's apartment.

2) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words

“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.

The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it.

Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.

3) So Good, It's Making Me Drool | Explicit | 3364 words

He kept his back turned to Harry, whispering the few words he knew that would make Harry go absolutely wild. “If I’m only yours, maybe you should take me to bed and teach me who I belong to.”

4) What I Like | Explicit | 4245 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Harry gets tired of the "older women" jokes and the incessant teasing from Louis.

5) ll Belong To Your Creation | General Audiences | 4349words

Louis had always thought it was impossible to do so. Thankfully, upon doing research he learned that he still can as long as there are no complications throughout the whole pregnancy. He also stumble upon a birth vlog where a mum was able to give birth naturally even after going through c-section with her first and second pregnancy.

6) An Axolotl and the Fake Date | Explicit | 5976 words

Harry runs a stall at a farmers market every weekend and Louis comes by one day with an odd request.

7) Feels So Right | Explicit | 8804 words

The one where Louis is Troy, Harry is Gabriella, and we find out what really happened after karaoke at that ski resort...

8) Giallo! | Mature | 9776 words

Louis was a mess. A stuttery mess of weak knees and grass stains on his fresh linen clothes, his cheeks blooming a natural pink that matched his sunburnt nose. Upon his return from University, his family abandon the bustling city of London to bask in the comfort of their summer villa. With such a property came maintenance, Louis' father hired a strapping young fellow with tanned skin littered with ink and a charming smile aided by dimples in both his cheeks. Between reading, baking and painting, Louis stares at Harry, he couldn't help it. They grow close under the sun of Greece in 1989.

9) Interlude: One Night in March | Explicit | 10671 words

Note: This is a sequel to this fic.

“Said I would, didn’t I?” Harry let his hands roam over Louis’s bare back, his muscles rippling with that same frenetic energy he always had, swirling just beneath the skin, just beneath Harry’s fingers. “May come a time I’ll have to carry you again.”

Cupping the back of his head and burying his fingers in Louis’s hair, he pulled Louis back into another deep kiss, moaned a bit when Louis squeezed his chest again, harder this time, like he wanted the shirt off. But instead he drew his hand down Harry’s side and tugged at the hem, as though to say best keep this on, before he licked into Harry’s mouth, drew Harry’s tongue out to play only to pull back enough to speak.

“May come a time I’ll actually fucking let you.”

10) Hate To Smoke (Without Me) | Mature | 12164 words

Sleep. Harry just wants one good night of sleep. However, his neighbour has a thing for headboard-banging-against-the-wall-sex every night. After a secret set-up and a bet, Harry may finally get the sleep he so much desires.

11) Call You Mine | Explicit | 12755 words

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

12) A Vivid And Wistful Melody | Explicit | 13128 words

"Slowly, he takes his violin out of its case, listens for a few more minutes to Louis’ flute, before joining him as best as he could. The flute stops for a few seconds, and Harry imagines Louis blinking cutely, taken aback, before huffing with a smile, and starting to play again, on a suddenly far happier tune. Harry closes his eyes as he twirls around the living room, violin in hand and music filling the air. He pictures Louis doing the same in his own flat while being careful as to not step on his cat.

Somehow, even with heavy eyes and tired limbs, this is the happiest Harry has ever felt in years."

In which they are neighbours stuck at home and they happen to start talking through a wall with a piano, a violin, and a flute. They end up writing the soundtrack of their own love story.

13) Until This Blood Runs Cold | Explicit | 13685 words

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

14) A Road To Hope | Explicit | 18280 words

Note: There is no explicit smut but its implied BL.

“We’re far from the people and their issues, don’t hold back. Please.”

It’s true. They are far away from anything that could stop them, the middle of nowhere being the safest place on Earth for them to fall in love. The sacred land where sacred love is created. However, Louis is certain that even if they weren’t safe, he wouldn’t resist the sight of Harry, his pleading eyes, his warm skin beneath his touch.

15) Your Eyes Of Blue, Your Kisses Too | Explicit | 21785 words

When they get out onto the streets away from the crowds Niall turns to walk backwards, “So did you get any leads?”

“Well- uh.”

Niall shakes his head, “Too busy kissing that pretty boy onstage, I see. Gonna blow the whole case for a piece of ass?”

16) Thinking About Peaches | Explicit | 23724 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #18 on this list.

Eight smutty drabbles following the events of bruise you like a peach.

17) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds | Mature | 38065 words

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

18) Bruise You Like A Peach | Explicit | 40694 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #16 on this list. 

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

19) Falling Out Of Fashion | Explicit | 42123 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry Styles has been the established face of the Grimshaw House of Design for two years. It’s a prestigious and coveted modeling contract Harry took away from once-famed supermodel Zayn Malik. With the model transition Grimshaw’s designs went from a more urban, Zayn-forward aesthetic, to a Harry-favoring flowery, flowing femininity in the Grimshaw designs for men.

So when Harry sees a dress Grimshaw made for a famous Marvel actress, “only a tease”, Nick says, of the evolving look, Harry knows Grimshaw is shifting his aesthetic.

Harry wonders if he can pull off the look.

Or could Grimshaw be looking for a new face?

20) Secretly Dating | Mature | 43615 words

Lottie groaned, looming over Louis with a glare. “If we’re late, Mum and Dad will never let Harry see me – ie. see you.”

It was the first time they openly addressed the fact that Harry saw more of Louis than Lottie on their supposed ‘dates.’ He supposed he knew as much, but it still startled him. “You’ve been setting us up!”

Lottie snorted, cocking out her hip and brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Honestly, Harry. You’re so dense. To be fair, it was at Louis’ request.”

Louis’ mouth gaped like a fish as he jumped to standing position, wobbling only slightly. “Don’t sell me out!”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Come on lovebirds.”

21) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) | Mature | 95417 words

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

22) The Healing Song | Mature | 111851 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis was carrying the large stuffed elephant like it was a baby, it’s trunk hanging over his shoulder and down his back and it’s front legs were resting around his neck, like it was hugging him. Said elephant was a present from Louis’ close friend Steve, who had thought Louis needed something to hug on bad days and had gifted him with a stuffed elephant the size of a one year old.

Steve had been right. Some days Louis did need something to hug, and this elephant was as good as anything.

Louis was having one of the rougher days. The harmonious state of the anxiety free life of a fearless Louis had ended the week after he met with Harry. It ended as abruptly as it had started. It was like pushing a button. Lights out. Almost as if the universe said “You’ve had your fun, crazy one, now go be sick” and slammed the door in his face.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[utterlyinevitable]

Could you write HC about Ethan's early year(s) after being left by Louise? I guess I want my heart be broken 🥺

Ethan After Louise (1994) 

Ethan Jonah Ramsey was just 11 years old when his mother never came back from the grocery store. 

His father spent the entire evening and most of the next day searching for her, only to be let down. 

Ethan was in 5th grade and astute enough to understand why he needed to stay with the neighbor. He was clever enough to catch the snide looks on the police officers faces when they told Alan he had been dumped. And Ethan knew enough to know he had to take care of his dad.

He’s confused at first. Ofc what kid wouldn’t be confused by one of their parents - his mother - the person that’s meant to love him above all else - just up and leaves without prior warning. 

It’s all so confusing and it hurts like hell. 

His dad has to sit him down and explain what happened. 

Ethan asked questions about why she left, why would she do this, did she say anything, did something happen, why why why 

And Alan could barely get through it all without crying. Not having the answers or closure they both needed was shattering. Looking at his son and realizing how their entire world changed in the last hour was more than he could handle. 

Ethan held his dad as he cried. The younger Ramsey allowed his lashes to moisten but wouldn’t shed a tear. He needed to be strong for his dad now. 

He went to bed that night, head spinning with questions and solutions he noted down in the journal on his desk - a reminder to broach the subject with his dad later on. His head hit the pillow and his sobs wracked his lanky frame. Ethan bit his lips, breaking the skin and mouth filling with iron, trying to stifle the sounds. 

Alan and Ethan leave the porch light on all night for weeks, in hopes that maybe she’ll come home one night. Maybe she just needed some time away to decompress.

And then as the days, weeks, months pass and no word from her he accepts the fault.

There wasn’t a specific day that Ethan Ramsey changed from the doe eyed, inquisitive kid and to the removed and stoic man. There were just events and harboring feelings that were never addressed. 

Ethan would never have admitted to needing a therapist, but looking back he could only imagine what things would have been like if they could have afforded someone to talk to at the time. 

Growing up there were things that reminded him he didn’t have a perfect, happy home. 

He didn’t have a mother to participate in bake sales (Alan did his best when they had the extra means to make some brownies from scratch), or bring him drinks and cheer him on during field day, or make his costumes and fancy clothes for school functions (Alan’s pretty good at sewing). And he really could never have friends over after school because he’d be alone, parentless until 7pm most days. And during science and math and invention fairs his parents were never there cheering him on. 

Ethan had to grow a thick skin quickly. 

Whenever Alan couldn’t make it to one of these events or if his son refused to participate because he didn’t want to be the odd-kid-out, Alan would always set aside some time to do something just them two. Though once Ethan reached 14 he preferred not to do anything at all. Ethan preferred his solitude and studies instead of these key bonding moments. It really put a distance between them. 

He knew his dad tried his best to work two jobs and keep Ethan’s life as normal as possible. But there’s just some things you can’t replace - like a mother. A parent. A piece of you you’ll never know no more because she left. 

Kids at school pitied him for too long. Friends seemed to pull away because they felt weird talking about their moms in front of Ethan. The only ones that seemed to treat him like normal were the ones with divorced parents - the kids who kind of understood. Though Ethan knew they could never truly understand his pain. His parents weren’t divorced. There was no court case or CPS walking through to see who should be granted custody. Nothing. Just the abandonment. 

For a while, Ethan thought her leaving was his fault. He was the one home alone with her. He was the one asking her to take him to the park. He was the one who knocked over her grandma’s vase earlier. 

What did he do to make her leave? 

Ethan threw himself into... himself. Bettering himself. Becoming the most successful version to rub in her face -- he did all this without her. He was better off without her. 

As soon as he was old enough and skilled enough, Ethan would read cookbooks after his homework and plan what he would make for dinner each week. That way dinner was on the table and ready when Alan got home. A nutritious meal and not microwaved.   

After a while he willed himself to move on - used the need to succeed to keep himself from dwelling on the loss. It was the only thing he could think to do to give himself and his father the lives they deserved - the ones they were robbed of.

His mother leaving put a strain on his relationship with Alan. They never had much in common from the get-go. Ethan was too much like his mother. He knew this deep down. And Alan was smart enough to never tell his son that fact - to never bring up all the things about him that remind him of her. 

Their relationship was familial and protective. Alan building Ethan up with unconditional love and support, unguided and letting him carve his own path even if he didn’t wholly agree. And Ethan being the perfect son - strong, smart, and not a hassle. He never wanted to add to his father’s stress. 

Even if Ethan did use his brain for evil and not good sometimes, he was a lovable scoundrel. And one that got away with everything - whether that be because of his looks and potential or pity, he’d never know.  

________________________________________

A/N: this was a lot of word vomit and no editing. if you made it this far, thank you ❤

Masterlist

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[jinmindeulle]

the art of love | cs

pairing: choi san x reader ft. mentions of park seonghwa 

word count: 5.1k

genre: artist!reader, florist!san, exes to lovers au | angst, fluff

warnings: minor swearing

find ateez’s masterlist here!

enjoy ♥

How many deep breaths did I have to take to put myself together every time I started driving back to my hometown?

I think I stopped counting five years ago. It didn’t matter how many times I had done that, it had always driven me crazy.

But this time, it was worse.

“Please, text me when you’re on your way. Let’s meet at Jjinsong’s Café before going home. Be safe, love you!”

Yet, I couldn’t be mad. I missed my family too much to be upset over that. It’s been seven years, y/n, get over it!

I replied to my sister with a short message full of heart emojis and I put my phone inside my pocket. I started the car and glanced at my (ex?) apartment floor. Hope to see you empty when I get back.

Last time I visited my family’s home in Namhae, it was all tears and sad eyes. Making my way back to Seoul was one of the hardest things for me. However, every time I went back to the capital city, the driver’s seat was always taken by the same man, who at least tried to make my trip bearable by holding one of my hands when he could. But that day, I was the one driving, all alone.

I couldn’t break the news to my mother over the phone. She had gotten attached to him over the years. But she didn’t knew the whole truth, and honestly, going back to Namhae was way cheaper than calling my mom to tell her that I had rejected my boyfriend’s marriage proposal without second thoughts, and that my life was just a mess in general.

And I also needed to see her, my dad, my sister and my nephews. They were going to help healing my open scars. At least try to.

I picked a random playlist and kept it on repeat the whole trip. Fortunately, being a Thursday, the traffic was not that bad, especially at such an early hour. I really didn’t want to stay under that roof any longer. I felt miserable there. Why did I have to put it off that much?

“Why did you have to put it off that much?”

“I wonder exactly the same”

My sister looked at me with a raised eyebrow while she quietly sipped her coffee.

It had always amazed me how calm and collected Eunjung acted and reflected in situations like mine. She would never get upset unless it was the end of the world, and that hardly ever happened.

“I knew something was wrong since the last time you came home with him”

“But it was not that bad back then”

“You sure?”

“Well…”

He had been promoted a week before and his father had announced that he was soon going to retire, leaving him his position as CEO of one of the greatest companies in South Korea. It had easily gone to his head, and I wasn’t able to stand staying in the same room every time he brought that up.

“Maybe you’re right” I sighed, quietly stirring my own coffee. “I honestly don’t know, Jung. I didn’t like to think about it because it meant doing something about it. And I think I was way too comfortable living like that to try and change it.”

“And he made you do it”

“Pretty much, yes. I couldn’t get married to him. I don’t think I loved him enough to sacrifice what I wanted in life just for him”

“I’m glad you did that, y/n. It means you’re still chasing your dreams”

“I mean, yeah. I have always been. Not actively, but I kept dreaming about having my very own gallery, and everyone in Seoul wanting to have my art pieces on their living room’s walls.”

“Why not everyone in the country? Or in the world?”

“My dreams are more of the realistic type, Jung” I chuckled, munching my last chocolate cookie.

“How are you going to tell mom?”

“With your help?” I smiled innocently, trying to display the best puppy face I could master.

“And how do you want me to do that? ‘Hi mom, y/n here broke up with Seonghwa right after he proposed to her because it was not the life she wanted! Please don’t be that happy, it will break her poor heart!’”

“Eunjung! Please!” I begged “She won’t leave me alone and…”

“She will” my oldest and only sister interrupted me, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. “There’s been a rumour going around…”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

Eunjung sipped from her blue coffee mug and looked at me with the same innocent eyes I had displayed some seconds ago. Then, she quietly put the mug down and got closer to me over the wooden table, encouraging me to do the same. Once we were close enough to avoid being heard by the rest of the customers, she whispered in my ear.

“Rumour has it that Choi San is getting divorced”

I resoundingly sat back down, looking at my sister with a mix of weird emotions in my eyes. I hadn’t heard his name in ages. Not because I happened to not hear it, but just because I had deliberately asked my family not to bring his name up when I was around.

“Eunjung…”

“His wife cheated on him”

“Please, stop” I murmured, tightly closing my eyes, trying to get rid of the million memories that my brain decided to bring back after so many years of suppressing them. “You know how I feel about him”

“You’re telling me that after more than seven years you’re still upset about him and what you went through? You were like twenty years old, c’mon! You’re a woman now, y/n!”

“I was twenty two, and yes, I’m over it. But I don’t want to know, hear or talk about him. He’s dead to me. He’s been dead to me since the day I moved to Seoul, and will be until the end of my days”

“I didn’t know it was that deep”

“You were too busy taking care of your babies, Jung. And I’m not complaining here, I just know that you never got the full story, but it’s OK. It’s in the past now”

“You sure?”

“Stop making me question my life!” I cried, throwing a used paper napkin right at her face.

“What do you want me to say?”

My mom had always been understanding. She would calmly nod and hug me, telling me that everything was going to be okay, and letting me soak her blouse with my teenage tears. However, there were situations in which you could never guess what her reaction would be. And that was one of those times.

“Honey, I think we all knew that you were going to end things with that guy” my dad intercepted “but we weren’t aware of the fact that it was that bad”

“In all honestly, I wasn’t either” I murmured “it was just my routine. I had been waking up next to him for nearly five years. I had a job that let me live comfortably and not worry about anything else than buying expensive clothes every now and then because I was supposed to be accompanying Seonghwa in every fucking company’s party” I allowed me to cry for the first time, letting the pain and desperation out “I was living like a damn princess. But I never wanted that. I had never wanted that!” I sobbed. A pair of gentle arms held me tight, and I instantly knew that it was my mom. I hugged her back, holding onto her like she was the only oxygen mask available in a crashing plane.

“I know dear, I know. And I’m proud of you. You did what you wanted to do, because you should always do that. And it’s OK. It will never be a bad thing to follow your heart, y/n”

I nodded, drying the flowing tears with the back of my sleeve. “Thank you mom, dad. I love you”

“We love you too, darling” my dad affectionately kissed my cheek, chuckling when I showed him a weak smile. “Why don’t you take a shower while I finish preparing lunch? I bet your nephews want to see you as much as you do”

“Yeah, will do” I nodded, grabbing my large pastel purple suitcase. “I need to recharge before seeing those little demons”

The whole Thursday and the day before had been an emotional rollercoaster, so I expected to get the sleep I deserved. But sometimes things don’t go as planned. Just like my life, really.

The first night that I slept in my old room was just a blessing. No alarm clocks were rushing me out of bed, no angry faces were shaking me out of sleep, and no boring tasks were waiting for me in my office’s desk.  

“Aunt, wake up!”

I opened one of my eyes when the curtain was drawn and sunlight hit my face. I was about to bury my head in one of my pillows when the oldest of my nephews, Jiwon, took it away from me and slapped me with it.

“Mommy’s taking us to the park so we can have a picnic as breakfast!”

“And told us to wake you up so you can go with us!”

“Please, auntie! Wake up!”

I wanted to scream. I swear to God I loved those kids, but sometimes they made me think twice about having my own in the future. Yeah, well, it won’t happen anyways. You’re single now, and you’ll probably be forever.

“C’mon auntie! Or mommy will be upset!” Jihwan cried.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Go tell your mom that I’ll be downstairs in like 10 minutes”

“Okey dokey!”

Getting ready in the mornings was not my favourite thing to do. I liked to pick whatever was clean in my closet and wear it like it was a Prada dress. Nonetheless, it was never like that for me. I had to be well dressed. I had to wear the actual Prada dress. I just couldn’t choose.

But that day, I could.

After taking a shower, I took my old, worn out pair of jeans out of my suitcase and put them on.

“It’s been so long since I wore these jeans” I whispered, caressing the fabric.

Next, I chose a simple, colourful shirt that I myself had intervened years ago, and tucked it in. The most comfortable pair of sneakers finished my look.

“You look like you’re twenty again”

“Oh Lord Jesus, knock next time!” I shouted, startled by my sister’s voice.

“You’re back to being you. I like that” she smiled at me from the door frame. “But hurry up! These kids are driving me crazy down there”

Taking a look around that familiar yet so long forgotten park, made me feel emotional once again. That was the reason why I always tried to avoid it every time I decided to return to Namhae. My hometown brought back too many memories, memories that I had decided to erase seven years ago.

But I was tired of it. And at that moment, my future was uncertain — what I had always feared the most. Bringing back painful memories was nothing for me at that point.

“Fluffy is crazy!”

“Give it to me, Hwanie” I took the red dog leash from my youngest nephew’s hand, trying to prevent the huge dog from running around the park chasing the ducks, and probably throwing to the ground the old ladies that were feeding them. “When did this dog get this big?”

“We are feeding him puppy food that makes him stronger, auntie!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t d… Fluffly!” the dog was able to release himself from the leash while I was giving wise advice, and started running towards the ducks, leaving us four way too far away to stop him before a massacre happened.

“Oh no!”

I reacted as fast as I could, although I knew I was way too late. My legs were not that fast, and even if they were, how was I supposed to have enough strength to pull him away from innocent ducks and old ladies?

Just when he was about to throw himself over the lake, a man in a black hoodie that covered most of his form took him from his collar and kept him under control. I kept running towards them, busy thinking about what that crazy dog would do to the stranger if he made a false step.

But I was stunned — and out of breath — when I found out that the beast was happily wagging his tail to the man, while he petted him. “Are you still misbehaving, Fluffy? Didn’t I teach you to stay calm near the ducks?”

“Uhm… hi?” I breathed out, trying to call attention to the man who still had his back to me. “The dog…”

“Are you still struggling to ta…”

My eyes watered in a matter of seconds. The man that I was successfully avoiding for years was standing right in front of me, looking the way I remembered him, like seven years had done nothing to him.

But he looked tired. Like he was going through hell and was needing a break from it all. His eyes had all the time shown his feelings, and back then, I was the only one able to read him like an open book. I knew in an instant that he was feeling like crap, but there was something else.

And maybe he was not the man that I used to know. Well, not maybe. He wasn’t the Choi San I had been in love with. The Choi San that I had cherished like no one else, who I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with and grow old together.

And I was not the same either.

“I…”

“It’s been so long” he sighed, looking me in the eye. I felt intimidated. I had forgotten how powerful his glances were, no matter the situation. He had always managed to do that to me, and I wasn’t ready to go through it once again. I had been invested in studying his glances way too many times in the past, and I was never able to reach a reasonable conclusion. So I just settled for leaving that matter alone.

“Yeah…” I exhaled, playing with the read leash in my hands.

“I didn’t know you were visiting your family”

“You know when I come here?”

“Of course I do. Everybody knows. It’s a small town, y/n”

I closed my eyes tightly upon hearing my name leave his lips. I felt like crying all over again, and I wasn’t willing to let him see me like that anymore. He had had enough of it. We both had.

“Should have guessed it” I nodded, looking down and avoiding his gaze. “Can you give me Fluffy back?”  

“Oh yeah, sorry” he petted the dog for the last time while I secured the leash back on his collar “He’s been misbehaving a lot lately”

“You know him?”

“I helped Eunjung a couple of times with him. She told me it’s been hard to keep him quiet when they take him out to the park so I offered to help. I need to take a break from life sometimes, and he’s great company”

“He seems to like you a lot” I smiled weakly, looking down at the happy dog who was still wagging his tail while looking at San with what seemed like adoration.

“I think so, yeah” he giggled softly, petting him once again. “He’s nice, but he needs some rules before it goes out of hand”

“I’ll make sure to tame him, then”

“You’re staying?” I mustered all of my courage, and looked up to meet his eyes. His voice tone had changed tremendously, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. This was a new Choi San for me after all.

“For some weeks, yeah. I still don’t know how many, to be honest”

“You’re on a little vacation with your boyfriend?”

“I…” I was about to reply, but then it just hit me. I was talking to Choi San, the man that had marked my whole existence with burning, hurtful words. He had given me everything and taken it away from me as fast as he could. So no, I was not giving him explanations. “Yeah. Well, goodbye, San.”

And I left as fast as I got there.

After my encounter with San, I kept thinking about him and everything that happened in those years together. Not only the tragic ending, but also the beautiful things. And that made me realize that I could at least get part of it back.

Although Eunjung saw everything, she didn’t bring it up. She knew that I was struggling — and I’m pretty sure she heard me that night.

So while a soft breeze accompanied me as I was watching the night skies in the petit balcony of my room, I decided to make my way towards the basement to find the boxes full of the stuff I had left there and never used ever again. Many oleos were dry and unusable, but some others seemed to be just fine. I took one of the empty canvases and my easel as well as my collection of paintbrushes, and went back to my balcony.

“How had I missed you” I whispered, looking at my empty canvas. Tears gathered in my eyes, and a sad smile appeared on my lips as they rolled down my cheeks. “I really missed this”

But although I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than a soft stroke which was supposed to be the very same night sky above me.

My hand didn’t respond. It was painful.

So I let it all out. My desperate cries were most probably heard around the neighbourhood, but that was my last concern. The only thing that was supposed to make me happy turned out to be a total failure.

I had no purpose. I had ruined my career as a painter years ago. Why would I paint a night sky that would be seen by no one but me? That would be recognized by no one but me?

San was right.

He had been right all along.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you ran into San yesterday?”

Mornings at home were usually not that noisy, but that day it had to be. My mom had organized a tea party with her girlfriends, and I was supposed to help her out as the only one who was free around the house. My dad was out of town for the weekend because of work, and my sister decided to go out with her sons, probably trying to get away from our mom’s demands.

“Eunjung told you?” I sighed, mixing the cupcake mix faster than I was supposed to so that I could get out of there.

“Yep” she nodded.

“I don’t want to talk about him. You know he’s dead to me”

But even though I said it bluntly, I was feeling like that sentence had no meaning to me anymore.

“You’re being too rude, y/n”

“I’m being honest, mom.” I stopped my eager mixing and looked at her, supporting my weight against the kitchen counter, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you and everyone in this town love San. But I don’t, and I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Please”

“Fine” she sighed “Then lend me a hand with the stra— oh Dear God!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was supposed to bake a strawberry cake but I totally forgot about buying the strawberries”

I rolled my eyes. Totally my mom’s behaviour. “I’ll go to the supermarket. Anything else?”

I shouldn’t have asked that.

Making my way down the aisles, I struggled to find everything that my mom asked me to buy.

“Where the hell are these fucking powders?” I murmured, slowly walking with my cart and carefully reading each package. “Well, not here”

I looked in front of me to check the signs over the aisles, but my eyes encountered something very different.

A painted night sky.

I knew that painting. I knew that night sky.

Those soft strokes and the shiny details on the moon were familiar. Too familiar.

Of course. They were mine.

And once I understood that I was not looking at an actual painting but the back of an intervened denim jacket, it all came crushing down once again.

But I didn’t have enough time to run away.

He turned around and saw me. I froze like I hadn’t just seen him the day before. My eyes became glossy once again. Keep it together, y/n!

“I thought that yesterday was a coincidence. But I don’t believe that anymore”

San was right in front of me now, a couple of meters away from me. He was carrying some instant noodles in his hands and a bottle of water.

“Let’s not do this, please” I shook my head, tightly gripping the cart’s handle.

“We need to talk, y/n”

“There’s nothing to talk about, San” I gasped, avoiding his eyes.

“If your eyes keep watering whenever you see me and my heart keeps pounding whenever I see you, then yes, there’s a lot of talking to do” he calmly stated, taking a step closer to me “I know you have been avoiding me, and I cannot blame you alone. I also had whenever I knew you were around. But this needs to stop” he sighed “I am aware of the fact that you’re in a relationship and I don’t int—“

“I’m not” I interrupted him, looking at him in the eye “I left him. That’s why I’m here”

“I’m… I’m so sorry to hear that” he said, and I could clearly see the sincerity in his eyes.

“It’s okay…” I whispered.

“Can we please meet so we can finally say whatever we have to say to each other before you leave?”

“San, I… I find it really hard to talk to you” I came clean, playing with the ends of my shirt “You hurt me a lot, and… and I really don’t want to keep digging in the same old scars. But maybe…” I took a deep breath “Maybe it will help to finally close them”

He nodded “I know, y/n. I need this. We need this”

“What about your wife?”

I just had to ask. He knew about me and Seonghwa, so it was only fair.

“It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, I’m divorcing her”

“I’m so—“

“Don’t bother” he shook his head, chuckling with a noticeable pain in his voice “I’m not sorry, so no one should be for me. Especially you.”

I don’t know why I was so nervous. It was just San. Choi San, that beautiful, talented and perfect man.

And that was the problem.

Choi San had always been a mystery. A simple mystery. Back then, he liked to show me that he needed to wear nothing more than a dazzling smile to make my day better. He used to take me out at night to stargaze because he thought that I could find inspiration up there.

“You need to paint these, baby” he had said “I know you’ll do an outstanding job”

And of course I painted them. Every single one of them.

“Could you pretty please paint this same sky on the back of my denim jacket?” he had asked.

“Why do you want me to do that, Sanshine?” I had chuckled, looking up from his chest so that I could see his stunning features illuminated by the stars.  

“Because today I feel like I could do anything I want with my life. I have you, so that’s enough” he had replied, sweetly kissing me afterwards.

I hadn’t been enough, though.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt his sweet perfume coming near me. I turned my head to my right, and I was able to distinguish his slender form from afar. He was still wearing that denim jacket and carried a large envelope in his hands.

“Hey there” he softly smiled.

“Hi San” I replied, trying to get rid of any sign of desperation in my voice.

“Do you want us to stay here or you prefer to go where used to… hang out?”

“I’m perfectly fine here” I sat back down on the bench, and he cautiously did the same, both of us in each end of it. The evening was warm and a nice breeze hit our faces. Although there were no stars yet, they were on their way.

And I honestly wasn’t ready to stargaze with San.

“Shall I start by saying that I am truly sorry?” after some minutes of silence, San broke the ice. “I never meant to hurt you like that. But I know that saying sorry now it’s meaningless. I just want you to let it all out, say the things that you wanted to yell at that 23 year old me but you never got to” the sorrow in his voice was evident, and I believed him. I felt how sorry he was for what he told me that night.

But it still haunted me. So I had to tell him.

“You ruined my dreams, San.” I whispered, already feeling hot tears go down my face. “You were my only fan back then. You encouraged me to keep going, practising, learning, and experimenting. But that night… you just threw that away. Why would you tell me that I was never going to be successful? Why would you yell right at my face that I was talentless?” I sobbed “That my paintings were nothing special and that I would never become a renowned artist if I kept painting night skies, when you were the one who encouraged me to do that in the first place?” And just as he wanted me, I let it all out. “You buried my dreams. You crushed them and you even made sure to throw them to the trash before leaving. I hated you for so long! I despised you! You were my best friend who suddenly became my worst enemy. But why? I just want to know that. I don’t care if you still think that my paintings were garbage. That’s my last concern” I sighed, violently drying the still falling tears “I just want to know why”

I looked at him, and it made me feel a little bit better to know that I was not the only one crying about it. Although he kept silent, his cheeks were soaked, and his eyes reddened and puffy. “You were talking about leaving Namhae” he whispered, looking down at the grass that surrounded us “and I couldn’t go with you, so I just needed you to stay. But after you moved to Seoul, I realized that I was being selfish and that I thought of my happiness over yours. I was going to be happy if you stayed with me, working at the flower shop and painting night skies as a hobby. But you would never have been if you did that” he cried, letting out a sorrowed and choppy breath. “And for the record, I never meant those words, y/n. I never believed that, and I know for a fact that I’m still your number one fan. You are the most talented person I know. You are amazing, and you more than anyone in this world deserve to be recognized out there. I’m so sorry for making you believe the opposite.”

I stayed silent, processing San’s explanation.

If we just had talked it out back then, maybe, just maybe…

“We were young and stupid” I finally replied. “I was trying to get out of Namhae to become an artist and I tried to take you with me. You were building your flower shop here and you tried to make me stay. It was never going to work out even if we tried” I reasoned, getting closer to him.

“But I shouldn’t have said that anyways” he shook his head “I prevented you from pursuing your dreams”

“I was stupid enough to believe that and stopped trying. I should have kept painting despite your words. I now see it” Slowly, San raised his head and looked at me in the eye. I weakly smiled at him, taking one of his hands for the first time in seven years. “I’m sorry too, San. I blamed you for my misery when I was the one who had to go after my dreams anyways”

“We both fucked up. But it’s on the past now, and we’re still young” he tightened his grip on my hand and shook the mysterious envelope with the other “I don’t know about you, but I just came from my attorney’s office. I’m officially divorced”

“I can’t believe our lives turned out this way” I quietly laughed, playing with San’s fingers. “If you had asked my 20 year old self, I probably would have said we were having our own house full of flowers and paintings by now, and why not add a couple of wedding rings. I was delusional”

“Not really, y/n. I expected that as well” his free hand softly caressed my cheek, travelling down to my jaw. He carefully grabbed my chin, making me look at him. I felt my eyes watering again, and San raised an eyebrow, showing me his confused gaze “Is there something wrong, baby?” he whispered.

I let out my tears, because I wasn’t trying to hide them from him anymore. “I’m just happy” I replied “I used to think that seeing you again was a mistake. That living in my luxurious Seoul apartment with a man that I no longer loved was what I needed to live the decent life that I was supposed to have. And now I know that it was just me trying to supress the urge that I had to come back to you. Because despite the horrible ending, you made me be who I am today. You loved me endlessly, San. And I hope you still do” I admitted, blushing like I was that 20 year old once again “Because I know I never stopped loving you, Sanshine. Even when I hated you the most”

He replied in the most beautiful way. A sweet, awaited, and loving kiss.

Although it wasn’t, it felt like the first time. No rushing, no hurting. Just love.

The love that I was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved me like San did.

The love that San was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved him like I did.

The love that we both deserved to get after so long.  

— jinmindeulle ♥ 

[flowerfan2]

A story about a reunion, and everything that happens afterwards.

Chapter 16/20 - Read on A03 here.

Patrick reads the email over again, just to make sure, then he runs out into the living room to tell David.

“I did it.”

David looks up from his spot on the couch, his black-framed glasses perched on his nose.  They’ve had a very sleepy Sunday morning, followed by a big breakfast of bacon and omelets, and David still hasn’t gotten around to putting in his contacts.  Patrick loves him like this.

“What did you do?”  David rises up from the couch, all grace and designer loungewear, and comes over to Patrick.

“I got a job.”  Patrick isn’t sure if what he is feeling is relief, excitement, or equal parts of both, but it feels amazing.

David smiles at him and pecks him on the cheek.  “Of course you did.”  He sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him.  “Sit down and tell me about it.”

“It’s just a consulting position, bookkeeping mostly, but for a company that works with start-ups and young entrepreneurs.  And it’s decent pay, more than I was expecting for this kind of thing.”

“That’s great,” David says.  “When do you start?”

“They want me right away.”  Patrick can feel his smile stretching his cheeks.  It’s the first time he’s felt anything but useless in so long, the way the people at this firm seemed to understand what he could bring to the table.  Patrick accepts another kiss from David, and then pops back up off the couch.  “I’m gonna call my parents.”

He goes into the bedroom and talks to his mom, then his dad, and then the conversation somehow gets derailed into a debate on whether buying new furniture for the lanai right now is a good idea or if they should stick with what they have for the time being.  Patrick kind of likes the idea of making David go shopping for patio furniture with him, so he’s voting for the former.  Finally they circle back to his job, his parents congratulate him again, and he gets off the phone.

He’s headed back to the living room, but pauses when he sees David in the guest room.  David has a black leather bag open on the bed and his sweaters folded in careful piles next to it.  Patrick’s stomach drops.

“David?  What – what are you doing?”  

David looks up.  He’s dressed in his favorite armor, glasses discarded in favor of contacts, a fuzzy black sweater over the black jeans with the rips in the knees.  “You said you were starting right away.  You didn’t say where, but I’m assuming Toronto-”

“Toronto?  Why would you assume Toronto?”

David’s face shutters further, and he turns back to his bag.  “I know I said I’d go anywhere with you, but I thought you might at least give me a heads up, discuss it a little bit, especially if it’s not Toronto.  I do have to deal with my apartment there at some point.”  David turns towards him, a hand on his hip.  “Do you even still want me to come with you?”

Patrick doesn’t know how this could have gone so horribly wrong, and he crosses to David, grabbing him by the shoulders.  “Stop packing.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”  David’s voice is rising, and Patrick shakes his head.

“I’m not going anywhere.  We’re not going anywhere, not until we both decide we want to.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“David, we’re not going anywhere.  I don’t have to <i>go</i> anywhere.  It’s a remote job.”

David stares at Patrick, and Patrick watches as he mentally replays the conversation they’ve had so far.  “You aren’t leaving?”

“No.”  Patrick sits down on the bed, David frowning at him as he knocks over a pile of sweaters, but sits down next to him anyway.  “It’s remote, part-time.  A consulting gig.  Varied schedule, but they think it’ll be about 20-25 hours a week, depending in part on how much their clients like me, and how well I can add value.  I may need to go to the Toronto office a few times a year, for meetings or something.  But I’m doing the job from home – from here, or wherever.”

David turns away, picking up his off-white hoodie and pretending to refold it, even though Patrick can tell he just needs something to do with his hands.  “You should have told me that,” David says, embarrassed.

“I know.  I’m sorry, I just got so excited.”  Patrick leans into David, rubbing a hand on his back.  “I’m sorry,” he says again, letting it sink in, letting David get his balance.  “I wouldn’t make any plans for us without talking it over with you.  I promise I wouldn’t.  My plans wouldn’t be any good without you.”

David’s eyes flicker to his and away, his hands still wrapped in the halfway folded sweater.  

“It’s true, David.”  Patrick puts his free hand on top of David’s, calming their restless movement.  “I don’t want any plans without you in them.  I haven’t even accepted the offer yet.”

“You haven’t?”  David turns back, searching his face.

“Nope.  I told them I had to talk it over with my boyfriend.”  Patrick’s taking a risk, throwing that word out there.  But David had done it first last time, and he doesn’t think there’s really any question that it applies.  He’s sort of glad that he hasn’t used it yet; there’s more of an impact now, when David clearly needs it.

David’s eyes go wide.  “You did?”

“I did.  So – what do you think?”

David shifts, and his demeanor softens, his walls coming back down.  “I think your <i>boyfriend</i> needs to know more.”  There’s a smile hidden in his cheek, an agreement.  Patrick wants to cheer.  David holds his gaze, and his smile escapes, mirroring Patrick’s own.  “And then you probably need to ask for more money.  There’s nothing wrong with asking for what you deserve.”

“You don’t even know what they offered me.”

“Whatever they offered, you’re worth more.”

******

Patrick gets up earlier than normal a few days later and shaves carefully, examining his face closely in the mirror.  He doesn’t look like someone who hasn’t worked in months.  He just looks like himself.  And when he presents himself to David for approval, David’s smile courses through his lips and into his cheeks, his hands dancing to Patrick’s shoulders, smoothing down the thin fabric of his favorite purple dress shirt.  He’s ready.

They set up an office of sorts for Patrick in the guest bedroom, shifting the bed to one side, moving a dresser out of the room and into the hallway, and arranging a table by the window.  Patrick decides that one of the dining table chairs will work for the time being, and David fusses with the curtains, concerned that the glare will make it hard to see his laptop screen.

Finally Patrick ushers David out of the guest room and logs in to a Zoom meeting for orientation.  It’s boring as hell, but he doesn’t complain.

It’s not as if he thought he was unemployable, it’s just that after his last job imploded so strangely, he wasn’t sure what it would be like to be an employee again.  And didn’t know if anyone would give him a chance to find out.  Turns out, Alexis was not only good at papering over his employment blips, she was awesome at pep talks and interview practice.  He makes a note to himself to call her soon and thank her.

That night they make sandwiches and eat them on the lanai.  It’s a little cool for it, but it still feels nice to be outside.  Patrick had his parents send him down some more clothes, but David scoffed at the idea of wearing a jacket.  Instead he’s got a throw blanket draped around his shoulders, a giant turquoise fleece wrap that clashes terribly with his otherwise neutral palette.

They get a series of texts from Stevie, photos of the house she’s buying in Schitt’s Creek.  It’s a three-bedroom ranch on a decent sized lot.  The interior looks like it hasn’t been updated in decades, with a pink bathroom and horrendous wallpaper in the bedrooms, but Stevie’s had plenty of experience updating décor at this point.

David teases her for a few minutes, riffing on how unbelievable it is that she’s adult enough to be a homeowner, but his heart doesn’t seem in it.  Patrick doesn’t tell him how Stevie has been saving for years, every bonus and raise going into an account for a down-payment.  

After their chat with Stevie, David seems out of sorts, and Patrick isn’t sure what to do about it.  After they’ve cleaned up from dinner, he suggests they play a game.

David gives him a frowny look, and Patrick immediately knows what he’s thinking.  Neither of them are in the mood for sex.  “Not that kind of game.  A card game, or a board game.”

David perks up at this, then deflates.  “We don’t have the right number of people for a board game.”

“I bet we can find something the two of us can play.  My parents have a pile of games in the hall closet.”

They pull down the basket of games from the shelf above the laundry machine, and David peers inside.  “Did they get these from a yard sale or something?”

There’s a worn box that contains a checkerboard, with both checkers and chess inside, a Connect Four game, a few decks of cards, and Uno.

“I think my aunt sent them down.”  Patrick takes out the Uno deck.  “How about this?”

David takes the whole basket into the living room and sets it on the coffee table.  He takes out the Connect Four game and pulls out the plastic frame, dropping a round tile into it.  “I had this game,” he says thoughtfully.

“I think everyone had that game.”

David dumps out the rest of the pieces, and a greeting card falls out.  It’s got a drawing of a bouquet of flowers on the front, with “Get Well Soon” in big letters.  “What’s this?”  David opens it and reads out loud.  “Marcy – hope this brings a little bit of fun to your day.  You’re in our prayers.  Love Susie and Pete.”

Patrick takes the card and reads it, his mind flashing back to last spring, flying down to see his parents.  His dad breaking down in tears on the car ride from the airport.  His mother telling him not to worry.

“Patrick?  Patrick, honey, what’s going on?”

David has his arm around him, and he’s pressed close to him on the couch.  Patrick brushes away the wetness on his cheeks, and David pulls him into a hug.  “Patrick, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing.”

David glares at him.

“I mean, it turned out to be nothing.”  Patrick shakes himself and clears his throat.  “My mom had a cancer scare last spring.  They found a tumor in her breast.  But it was benign.”

“<i>This</i> doesn’t sound like it was benign.”  David waves the card at him.  “People don’t say <i>you’re in our prayers</I> when it’s benign.”

“She had a bad reaction to one of the drugs, during the surgery, and took a little while to recover.  She was laid up for a while, and pretty miserable.  But it wasn’t cancer.”

David’s eyes are wet, and he looks like he’s going to cry, too.  “She’s okay now?”

“She’s okay.”  Patrick leans against David, snuggling into his arms, and they both breathe together for a long moment.  “Oh god, I think that’s why I freaked out in the doctor’s office.”

David shifts to look at him.  “What do you mean?”

“As soon as I heard, I flew down here.  I went with my mom and dad to the doctor’s visits before her surgery.  I couldn’t stay long afterwards, I had to get back to work, but…” Patrick’s throat gets tight, remembering.  “It was awful.  We were all so frightened.”

David presses Patrick’s head against his own, his large hand against Patrick’s scalp warm and comforting.  Patrick can feel David’s chest rising and falling.  David’s taking deep breaths, he can tell, trying to stay calm.

“You said this happened last spring?” David says quietly.

“Yeah.”

“When things started to go wrong for you at work.”

Patrick tenses.  “My mom was in the hospital.  I think it’s understandable that I was having trouble focusing.”

“No, honey, of course.  That’s not what I meant.  Of course it is.  It’s just – you didn’t mention that before.  That being worried about your mom is what started to get you down.”

Patrick feels like he’s a cartoon character with a light bulb flashing over his head.  Could it be that simple?  Was worrying about his mom’s health, on top of his general dissatisfaction with where he had ended up in life, what pushed him over the edge into depression?  

David tightens his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.  “I’m so sorry, Patrick.  That that happened to your family.  It must have been a very scary thing to deal with.”

“It really was.”

“I’m so glad she’s okay.”

Patrick turns and buries his face in David’s neck.  “Me too.”

That night, after David falls asleep, Patrick turns to the internet.  He hadn’t wanted to do this before.  He’s not sure why, although he thinks it has a lot to do with denial.  But he can’t stop thinking about his mom, and how hard it had hit him when she was sick.  Gritting his teeth, he starts googling causes of depression.  Upsetting or stressful life events.  Death or illness in the family.  Job-related worries.  Huh.  Maybe he had good reason to feel like things were falling apart.  Maybe that’s why he lost the ability to care about his job.  Maybe he’s not doomed to fail at his new one, too.

Patrick scrolls to the email from the therapist he’s been talking to.  So far, it’s just been a few emails and a brief phone call, an introduction, to see if she seemed like a good fit.  She’s based out of Toronto, but has many patients that she counsels remotely, on Facetime or Zoom, and comes highly recommended.  With shaking hands, he types out a message, suggesting that they schedule a session soon.  “I think it started last spring…”

[poeticandors]

Cut to the Feeling Part 2

Poe Dameron x F!Reader (Babysitter! AU)

Summary: After graduating college and needing to have some cash in order to survive while doing an unpaid internship, Y/N decides to take up a babysitting/caretaking job. Little does she know that she ends up working for a familiar face.

Warnings: Only mentions of smut I guess, nothing else

A/N: Thanks for all the love for this fic! Hopefully you all continue to enjoy this! This chapter is a bit long i am so sorry.

Part 1

GIF belongs to @fernandabarrera

Earlier

Poe watches you rush out the door, a sense of slight regret. He hates the thought of you walking alone, he would have loved to offer you a ride back to the bar to retrieve your car. Under different circumstances, he would have. 

Poe wasn’t one to engage in one night stands like this. When he saw you drinking alone at the bar, it wasn’t his first intention to take you and have you ride him in the backseat of your car. Nor was it his intention to take you back to his house and continue your hot, sensual escapade and practically kick you out in the morning. 

No. Poe wasn’t like that at all. Hell, the last time he even had sex was before… well, before his daughter was born. 

But after a long stressful day at work— on a whim— he decided to ask his dad to continue to watch his daughter over night while he got a drink at the bar. Well… a few drinks. 

While he doesn’t regret the sex at all, he does regret that he didn’t get your information at all. Did you even tell him your name? Did he even tell you his? 

He really wished he did get your information because when he was talking to you, it felt as if he could talk to you for hours. You were hilarious, sweet, and Poe hadn’t met someone he actually loved to be around in so long. 

Being in law school, participating in an internship in one of the best law firms, and taking care of a baby— it can really kill someone’s social battery. 

He was lucky enough to still live with his dad at the time, who was a big help in raising his daughter, Eva Bey. There were some tough nights, but when Poe needed to study or had late nights at the office, his dad would always be there to take care of her. Poe was very grateful for his help— without him, he wasn’t sure if he would have gotten this far. 

But since then, Poe managed to get a position with the law firm he was interning for. The only problem was that he had to move into the city, which meant leaving his dad behind. While he was still able to go visit his dad every now and then, he wasn’t going to be able to leave Eva Bey with him every day— which was why he decided to put an ad out for a caretaker. 

This would make things a lot easier: he wouldn’t have to drive at least an hour every night to go pick up Eva Bey, and he wouldn’t have to worry about picking her up from school every afternoon. 

Poe checks his phone, cursing to himself at the time. He was supposed to have an interview soon and he still needed to pick up Eva Bey from his father’s. As he grabs his keys he thinks back to you hoping that you’re okay and that maybe there is a chance he could meet you again.

++++++

“Thanks again, dad,” Poe says as he grabs the small pink bag. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, how could I turn down some quality time with my favorite granddaughter,” he chuckles, patting his back. 

“I’m your only granddaughter Papa Kes!” Eva Bey furrows her brows. 

Kes chuckles, bending down to pick the small girl up. “And you’re my favorite.”

Eva Bey gives him a toothy grin, before hugging him tightly. 

“You be good for your daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheek. “And I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!” 

Kes sets down Eva Bey, and she looks up at Poe, who kneels down in front of her. 

“Why don’t you take your bag to the car,” he smiles, handing her the backpack. “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, daddy.” 

Poe stands up, watching his daughter hurry to his car before turning back to face his dad. 

“So, you said you had an interview set up?” 

“Yeah, I should be there to meet her by the time we make it back. Thanks again.”

“Of course, I’m going to miss seeing you guys every day,” he chuckles. 

“You’ll still see us, don’t worry.”

Poe gives his dad a quick hug as a goodbye, making his way to the car. He helps buckle in Eva Bey into her booster seat, before he gets in the front seat. 

“Did you have a good time with Papa Kes?” Poe looks in the mirror, as he backs out.

“Yeah! We had Mac and cheese for dinner, and we watched Princess and the Frog!” 

“That’s good, baby. I’m glad you had a good time,” he smiles. 

“Daddy, will I still get to see Papa Kes?”

“Of course you will, baby. Just… it won’t be every day like we used to.”

“How come?” 

“Well, daddy has a new job, remember? And we had to move pretty far. There would be a lot of driving. But, daddy is going to meet someone today and they might be able to pick you up after school when I can’t.” 

“Is it a man or a lady?” She asks, swinging her feet. 

“A lady.”

“Is she pretty?” 

Poe chuckles. “Well, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her yet.”

Eva Bey seems to accept the answer— or is just tired of the conversation— and pulls out her tablet. Poe smiles, and continues the drive home.  

++++++

“Okay, why don’t you go put your stuff away. The caretaker will be here soon to meet us.”

“Okay, Daddy!” She takes her backpack, and skips off down the hallway.

Poe smiles, setting his keys down as he looks around the living room. He spots a few of Eva Bey’s toys on the floor— a small plush giraffe, a soccer ball, and a few of her blocks. He sighs, making his way over to pick up the toys she left lying around yesterday morning.

He also sees a few of the couch pillows on the floor, and he is suddenly brought back to last night— how you tasted, how you pulled his hair when he made you cum, and how you even offered to return the favor, giving him an IOU.

Poe smirks. He wonders what you are up to at this moment. If he had your number, he probably would have texted you at this moment. Were you thinking of him like how he was thinking of you? 

Just as he finishes tidying up the living room, he hears the doorbell ring. Perfect timing, he thinks. He straightens his shirt, and gives one last look over for the room before he heads to the door. 

He puts on a friendly smile, and as he starts to greet the person he was supposed to be interviewing, he instead comes face to face with you. 

You.

You who he had just departed from hours ago. Who had stayed the night after being tangled in each other’s limbs, pleasuring each other for hours. You who he was just thinking about seconds before he opened the door.

His smile drops, and he seems to mimic your expression as you stare wide eyed at him. It takes a moment, but then you both finally seem to find words as you speak at the same time. 

“...Are you Mr. Dameron—“

“—You’re Miss Y/L/N?”

You both seem to catch each other off guard. There you both stand, silent and baffled, until he feels a pair of arms wrap around his leg. 

Poe looks down, and sees Eva Bey peeking out from behind his legs. He automatically pushes her hair back and gives her a reassuring smile, letting her know that she’s safe and that he’s there. She looks up at him, and he wishes he knew what she was thinking in that moment as he looks deep into her dark eyes.

When he looks back to you, he’s conflicted. Sure, he was just thinking about you, but he didn’t know that it was, well… you that he was going to be interviewing. Would it be wrong to turn you away just because he happened to sleep with you last night? 

Poe watches your gaze fall down, and you give his daughter a friendly smile before kneeling down and giving her a small wave as you tell her your name. He doesn’t know why, but that small gesture softens his heart. Eva Bey stays behind him, though peeking out a little more. In that moment, Poe makes his decision, and clears his throat.

“Um… come on in.”

++++++

This was not happening.

Your mind races, you couldn’t be awake, right? You were still in bed with him, waiting for your alarm to go off. This was a dream— no, it was a nightmare.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

There was no way you were really here after waking up and leaving him just to end up back here for your interview. You had to be asleep still. That’s why you were still picturing him, and imagining his living room... in perfect detail with daylight. 

With other added details. 

The entire house— or at least the front room— screamed that he was a family man. How did you not notice the toys in the pink bin on the other side of the living room this morning? Or the framed photographs of him with his daughter on the wall? 

Oh, right. 

Because after you spent most of the night writhing underneath his mouth as he brought you to that euphoric bliss, you were too dazed to even think of anything else. Even this morning, you were more worried about getting your clothes and rushing to get to your interview then checking your surroundings.

Shit, shit, shit.

There was no way you were about to get interviewed by the guy you just happened to fuck last night. Was this going to affect everything? What if he looked past all your credentials and thought you were someone who was careless and not fit enough to take care of his daughter anyways? Or… what if he expected more? 

Your stomach sits uneasy. The thought of that being the whole reason to hire you really terrifies you. But you really needed this job. 

You were so sure that you would get it based off of your qualifications that you didn’t even think of searching for another. What were the chances that you just happened to sleep with the man who had the choice of hiring you?

You were surprised he didn’t automatically turn you away when he saw you. But also grateful. Maybe he was willing to look past everything that happened and give you a decent, fair chance? 

When you see the look on his face as he walks back in the room, your hopes seem to dwindle down to a trickle. 

Poe Dameron— as you’ve now come to know him— sits across from you in an armchair, staring at you. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he visibly tries to form some sort of a coherent sentence. 

The silence, despite the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, is achingly painful. You debate just hightailing out of there, saving you both the trouble. He would probably appreciate it; that would mean less awkward work he would have to do. 

Finally, and to your confusion, he lets out a dry chuckle. 

“What are the chances?”

“...S-Sorry?” 

He sits back in his chair, an amused smile on his face. “I mean, out of everyone in that bar, everyone, I happened to talk to the one that I had an interview with.” 

You’re not really sure how to respond. Was he really trying to joke at a time like this? 

He must’ve read the expression on your face, because soon after his smile drops. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean— I only meant… this is such a wild coincidence, is what I’m trying to say.” 

“Oh, no— I mean, yes. You’re right, it is a wild coincidence.” 

He seems relieved, and visibly relaxes. “Okay—“

“Before you say anything, I just…” you interrupt, breathing out nervously. “I have to tell you that I don’t expect you to hire me after what happened last night. I wouldn’t blame you for just kicking me out right away. But… I really need this job. And I’m not just saying that, I really, really need this job. I’m doing this unpaid internship at this clinic and well, I didn’t really plan for a backup and...” 

You quickly pull out your references and resume out of your purse, setting it on the table. 

“I’m really good with kids. Like, really good. I babysat all my cousins and I was the go-to babysitter in the neighborhood. And I’m working on becoming a speech therapist, to help out kids with their speech and communication.”

You watch as Poe slowly reaches forward, looking over your information. Although you should probably stop talking and instead let him read over, you can’t help yourself.

“I’m also CPR and First Aid certified, so… oh! And I’ve never had a driving ticket and I just…” 

Poe glances up at you and you feel like sinking into the couch. 

“I really need this job. And I just… I hope that we can look past what happened last night. I mean, I did have a great time, don’t get me wrong, but…”

You trail off, realizing what you said and mentally curse at yourself. Poe doesn’t seem affected by the comment as he looks up from the papers, setting them down. 

He studies you for a moment, and you wonder if this is what having heart palpitations feels like. All you can do is wonder what is going through his mind, hoping that he takes all that you’ve said into consideration. Finally, he goes to speak. 

“Do you know how to make Mac and cheese?” 

You blink. And blink again. And then once more. 

“...Mac and Cheese?” 

“Yeah, it’s my daughter’s favorite.”

He had to be joking, right?

“...Yes, I can make it. And other foods.” 

He nods, and then stands up. “How about I show you around?” 

“Wait…” you quickly stand up. “Seriously?”

Poe shrugs. “Gives me time to think things over. Come on.” 

Poe begins heading out of the living room, and you can only follow behind him, slightly confused. Were you going to question him? No. 

“That there is the kitchen, the fridge is always stocked so you wouldn’t have to worry about it. If there is anything specific you need just let me know.” 

“Oh, okay…” 

He walks down the hallway, and you take note of more pictures— actual photographs and hand drawn ones— of Poe, his daughter, and some including another man, probably a relative.

“This is the bathroom, and the room across from it is my office. You probably won’t have to go in there anyways.” 

You simply nod. Why was he telling you all of this? 

He points to another door. “My bedroom. Though I have a feeling you might have already known that.” 

He turns back to you, seeing you giving him an unamused look. 

“...Sorry, bad joke.”

“It’s… fine.” 

He only walks across to the other door. “And this is Eva Bey’s room.” 

He opens the door, and you look inside to see the small bedroom. The furniture was white, and the bed in the corner had purple bed sheets, with a few stuffed animals laid up against the pillows. You also noticed another bin filled with a few other toys. 

On the other end of the room was a small table, where His daughter— Eva Bey— sat coloring a picture. She looks up, smiling at her father. You noticed she had similar features: the same dark, curly hair, deep brown eyes, and even the same lips.

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hey, baby. I was just showing Miss Y/F/N around.”

She looks up at you, and suddenly looks back down to her picture. Poe chuckles softly. 

“She’s shy, not used to seeing a lot of new people.” 

“I get that—“

Poe’s phone begins to ring and he quickly pulls it out, cursing silently. 

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. Work. You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, and he hesitates before quickly walking to his bedroom. 

You stand at the doorway, glancing back to Eva Bey. She must’ve been looking up at you because she is fast to look back down at her paper. You can’t help but smile, and make your way over to the table. She doesn’t look up right away, and you kneel next to her.

“So, Eva—“ 

“My name is Eva Bey.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” you set your bag down. “Eva Bey, is it alright if I sit and watch you color?” 

She shrugs, reaching for the green crayon as you take a seat in the small red chair across from her. You take a look at the picture she is working on. 

“Is that you and your dad?”

“Mmhm,” she nods, working on a few small green blobs you make out to be bushes. 

“I saw your other pictures, you’re really good at drawing.” 

“...Thank you.” 

You breathe out softly, smiling as she finally looks up at you. 

“I like your hair,” she says.

“Thank you. I like yours, too. It’s very pretty. And so is your name.” 

She straightens up. “Are you going to be watching me when my daddy is working?”

“Well… I hope so. But it’s up to your daddy.” 

She seems to be satisfied with that answer, and puts down the crayon in her hand. 

“Do you know how to draw a puppy?” 

“Oh, um… kind of.” 

She slides the paper over to you. “Can you draw one for me please?” 

“Sure,” you turn the paper over. “What color do you want the puppy to be?” 

“Orange and white! Like those little ones, um… I forgot what they are called.”

“I think I know which ones you’re talking about,” you smile. “Here, I can show you how I like to draw my dogs and then you can learn how to do so.” 

She scoots closer, watching as you begin to draw a small puppy. 

“Do you have a puppy?” She asks and you shake your head. 

“No, but when I was your age I used to have one. The building I live in doesn’t allow pets,” you take the orange crayon. “Do you have any pets?” 

“No,” she sighs. “But I really want a puppy. My daddy says we can’t have one yet, and that’s it’s a lot of re… um… I can’t remember the word.” 

“Responsibility?” You look down at her and she nods quickly. “Well, your daddy is right. Taking care of animals is a big responsibility. But I’m sure someday you’ll be able to get a puppy.” 

She smiles and you put the finishing touches on the puppy, before handing her the paper. 

“What do you think?”

“I love it! Thank you!”

You laugh softly, before seeing Eva Bey look behind you to the door and rushing over. 

“Daddy, look! Miss Y/F/N helped me with a puppy!” 

Poe picks up Eva Bey, taking a look at the picture. “Wow, that’s a good picture.” He nods, before turning to you.

You stand up, grabbing your purse as Poe sets Eva Bey down. 

“How about you hang that up on the fridge, okay? I’ll walk Miss Y/F/N out.” 

“Okay! Bye Miss Y/F/N!”

“Bye, Eva Bey,” you smile, watching as she runs out the door: 

Poe turns to you, before stepping out of your way to walk back to the front door. He doesn’t say anything right away, and that has you becoming anxious. This is where he tells you he can’t hire you, right? Because you guys just so happened to have a one night stand with each other?

“She seems to like you,” he finally says, and you glance over at him. 

“Oh… well, she’s a very sweet girl.” 

“She is,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

You grip the strap of your purse. Had he come up with his decision? Was he going to hire you? Or was he just going to let you down easy.

He finally sighs. “So, listen… I know last night happened, and… well, this is happening now. But…”

It didn’t occur to you that you were holding your breath until he steps towards you.

“What happened last night can’t happen again. If I hire you, we just… go on like nothing occurred between us before this, okay? We have to be professional.”

“Of course!” You breathe out. “I totally understand, extremely professional,  and that won’t happen again I can assure you that.” 

“Great,” Poe nods. “So I’ll just give you my card. You can reach me at my cell anytime. Would you be okay with starting Monday?” 

“Yes, Monday definitely works,” you take the card, fingers brushing just barely against his. 

“Perfect. I’ll send you the address of her school and let them know you’ll be picking her up from now on. She gets out each day at one, so just try to be there before then.”

“Of course, I definitely will,” you nod, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much Mr. Dameron.”

“You can call me Poe, I don’t mind.” 

“Right, Poe…” you slowly pull your hand away. “I’ll just… thank you again for this, I won’t let you down.”

“I have a feeling you won’t,” he gives a genuine, friendly smile. “See you Monday?”

“Yes, Monday.”

He opens the door for you, giving a slight wave as you walk back to your car. You really couldn’t believe it, he was really willing to give you a chance despite what happened. 

As you get into your car, you breathe out in relief, relaxing against your seat. But then you’re suddenly brought back to the feelings you had earlier, before you found out that Poe was the one you slept with. 

It was a little dejecting, you were beginning to feel something towards the man you slept with and hoped to find him again. Now that you did, you realized that you had to push those feelings down. Deep down. 

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

++++++

TAGLIST: @starkrobb​

[writers-thoughts09]

True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 1

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 1  Word Count: 9.6k words Pairing: Zuko x Oc (or reader, however you wanna look at it) I zon’t own Avatar Rating: PG, sometimes I’ll sprinkle some 13 to add some spice ;) Warnings: PTSD, a wink of abuse of power (not caused by Zuko, though I am using his season 1 roughness. I won’t make him abusive in this story, we don’t vibe with that). A/N: I’m baaaack, sorry for any grammar errors and taking so long. I really wanted to make sure I was getting what I wanted to get in with purpose. I started it a few weeks before Zuko spots the avatar, but I still go through episode 1. Enjoy please like and comment if you wish. Next chapter is based off episode 2′s plot.

|Prologue| 1 | 2 |

*

Act 1: Salvation

“Sometimes life is like this tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you keep moving, you will come to a better place.”

- Iroh

Panda Lilies. One of the rarest flowers in the Earth Kingdom. Grows only on the rim of volcanoes, usually found on Mt. Makapu, and holds deep meaning. Although its black and white color is simple, panda lily petals are as soft as velvet. Its stem is such a vibrant green I’m sure it’d rival the Earth King’s jewelry and robes. Even though it may not be the most unique in appearance, for some reason I can’t help but find it enraptures me. So small, rare, fragile even; but enduring…

As a child, I always wondered what panda lilies meant. I’d often see my father come home with it behind his back after a long trip from the northern Earth Kingdom to surprise my mother. He’d present it to her in such a way it reminded me of Chan -the little five-year-old that used to live next door- childishly. My father had such a child-like admiration for my mother. I always found it comical, and sometimes a little embarrassing with the things he’d do for her attention…even though they were already married. Yet my mother would always gasp in delight, smile, take the flower from him, and plant a panda lily of her own on dad’s lips. A kiss. She'd do this every year when he’d bring one home.

Yeah, my dad said let’s set the standards uncharacteristically high for the other people back in our town.

Of course, as I grew a little older, I finally understood the meaning behind panda lilies. It was a symbol of the love my dad held so deeply for my mom. I guess over time, even after they married, my father never lost his passion for her. To me that’s beautiful. 

Usually, the flowers are used to win the hearts of those we have affection for. A crush so to speak. So, it was like my dad used the flower’s tradition to tell my mom every year, “Hey, I loved you then, I love you now, and I still want your heart.” Did my mother know this? Yes. She was actually the one who told him about those flowers in the first place way before I was born. Did she play along with my dad’s antics? Of course, because she loved him just as much.

I wish I could go back to when times were simpler, brighter. I wish I could go back to when my mother would teach me about flowers and the other nations. I wish I could go back to when my father would tell me about the different elements of bending. I wish I could go back to before-

Knock

Knock

Knock

The sound of knuckles rapping on metal echoed around her quaint quarters as a curt voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“Servant girl, where’s the general’s tea? He’s already above deck waiting!”

Two hands scrambled to shove everything away under her mattress. The journal she used to write in, along with the ink and brush that she, borrowed, one night from a crewman’s room while everyone was above deck. With everything hidden, Lila scrambled up from the edge of her bed and rushed to the door with shaky hands. Tanned fingers strained as they jerked the heavy hunk of metal open and came face to face with none other than Lieutenant Jee, a senior officer on this ship. The tall man held nothing but a frown on his face as he looked down at her.

Lila thought back to her first few days aboard, she considered him to be middle-aged by the state of his graying hair. A good few feet taller than her. An accomplished military man he was…and an accomplished singer too. Though she doesn’t dare tell him the last part.

As the lieutenant stared her down, expression unreadable, Lila couldn’t help but curl in on herself. Her good eye staring up at him sheepishly as he huffed out an unimpressed sigh.

“General Iroh’s been waiting for ten minutes now. Hurry it up if you know what’s best for you.” It was meant as a warning, and Lila knew better than to take her time and make the General wait any longer.

Quickly sliding out of her room, the door shutting behind her with a loud slam, and into the dimly lit hallway the girl squeezed out a, “Yes, sir I’ll get to the tea right away”, and hoped her words sounded as firm as the lieutenants. Though the only indication she got was the quirk of an aged brow before he swiftly turned away to walk back up the stairs that led to the main deck. No doubt to tell the General that Lila was on her way with his tea. Once the lieutenant was out of view, Lila spun on her heels and borderline ran through the dingy halls to get to the kitchen. All the while praying her tardiness wouldn’t result in any form of punishment; even though she’s never been on the receiving end of one during her time on this ship.

As she rushed through the halls of the ship's lower deck Lila knew it wasn’t the lieutenant or any of the other crew members that intimidated her. It wasn’t even the General. If anything, General Iroh was the nicest one to her compared to the others here. No, it was the person in command of this ship who truly frightened her. She’s seen the intensity of his rage when directed at his men many times throughout his three-year search for the Avatar.

Although he wasn’t much older than her, he still carried himself in a way that you wouldn’t think of him as someone younger. In Lila’s eyes his mere presence was imposing and domineering enough that she thought he could pass as a Fire Nation General. Maybe even an Admiral. A force to be reckoned with. Although he was exiled, he didn’t look at all like a banished prince.

All Lila knew was that she didn’t want to start slipping up now. From what she experienced firsthand, the Fire Lord’s family and his military were truly terrifying. 

When her boots rounded the corner to the kitchen’s entryway a stifled gasp flew from her lips as crewmen, specifically the firebenders, ambled out of the mess hall. The majority of them shoving past her without a second thought, knocking her off balance, their heavy fire nation armor clanking as they passed. Swiftly but awkwardly Lila caught herself from falling. Her back bumping the wall as her hand latched onto the door frame. After the last helmeted soldier left, she righted herself and set off to brewing Iroh’s usual. Jasmine tea. Once she was in the kitchen, she gently set down a pot of water to boil as her good eye ringed with a dark circle glanced about the empty kitchen. 

Deeming the area fully empty, broken fingernails ghosted over the cloth covering her other eye. Memories from long ago, ones she didn’t want to remember forced their way to the forefront of her mind. 

Visions of fire.

Men in red uniforms.

A burning house invaded her thoughts. 

Until the image switched as she remembered the Palace Gardens along with a girl dressed in fire nation clothing and forehead tattoo. She was hurling bursts of flame after flame, cackling as a young Lila ran through the fire lily bushes screaming crying out-

“Stop it.”

The one-eyed girl whispered. Shaking her head, jagged fingernails toyed with the edge of the cloth. 

Just like that, like dunking someone in cold water, Lila resurfaced from her haunted daydreams once she heard the boiling water bubble and hiss for her attention. 

“Oh my goodness!”

With her seeing eye, Lila snatched the pot of water, grabbed a clean teapot from the dish rack and hastily prepared the rest of Iroh’s afternoon tea all in one motion. This was all routine for her, except today she was late. Now panicking, Lila arranged everything on a serving tray and scurried as fast as her legs would allow without spilling, or worse, dropping anything.

The sound of her baggy uniform pants rubbing together and her dark boots tapping against the metal floor could be heard as she raced through the torch lit corridors. Past her sleeping quarters, and up the main flight of stairs leading to the ship’s main deck.

“Oh spirits, I’m extremely late!” Lila anxiously cried to herself as she slinked up the last few steps, forcing her rushed pace to a normal walk. On this ship she always had to make sure she kept her composure around the others. A habit she developed from her service in the Fire Lord’s Palace.

When she came out into view on deck, the afternoon sun shined brightly over her features. If it were any other place besides the south pole Lila would’ve appreciated the sun’s warmth, but it wasn’t. The subzero temperature seemed to overpower the sun as the cold hugged her through her heavy servant garbs anyway. A slight shiver crawled up her body after a particularly strong gust of southern wind blew past.

With her head bowed Lila made her way toward Iroh and his pai sho table. The old man was seated in the middle of the deck observing both his game and the banished prince’s training. Peeking up to look a few feet past Iroh, Lila caught sight of prince Zuko and the men he trained with. Another shiver traveled down her spine. One of fear.

Judging by his lack of clothing and sweaty face, the prince seemed to have just finished his training session once she walked on deck. Prince Zuko grabbed a towel from his uncle and wiped down his face and chest. Without sparing anyone a second glance prince Zuko marched off toward the command tower, barely brushing Lila’s shoulder as he went. Memories of her tardy punishments given by her last master flashed by. However, when prince Zuko didn’t stop to question or berate her for her late appearance, Lila released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Once certain that prince Zuko was completely gone and she wasn’t in trouble, Lila continued walking and closed the distance between her and General Iroh. Once she reached the old man’s side, Lila bowed in respect, a few wispy curls tumbling from her bun as she kneeled beside him. As always, every day for the past three years, the chubby man welcomed her with a bright smile and boisterous laugh. Now Iroh was a pale portly man with long grey hair and bright amber eyes to complement. Even though they never properly talked, he was always kind in greeting whenever he saw her around.

“Ah! There you are, I wondered where you were. I was scared you got lost on the ship.”

Knowing that Iroh was joking, Lila cracked a carefully practiced smile as the old man joyfully laughed.

“No, no, I didn’t get lost. Though please accept my deepest apologies, I hope my tardiness didn’t upset you, sir.”

Professional and sweet her words were, but rehearsed in nature. Iroh could tell, but he watched with kind eyes anyway as the young girl placed his tea on the table with steady hands. He was pleased to see she didn’t tremble near him like she did with his nephew. Unbeknownst to the blinded girl, prince Zuko’s uncle always noticed her reactions when it came to the boy. He’s always wanted to know why she’d become so small and nervous every time Zuko was near; but he knew better than to out-right ask. 

The retired general quickly took a sip from the cup she placed before him, the wondrous taste of jasmine tea dancing along his taste buds. This girl knew how to make it just how he liked it!

“You know Lila, that is your name, right?” Iroh questioned casually. The young girl stiffened in response as she awaited his next words with bated breath, “after three year of being on this ship together, we have never really sat down and talked over a nice calming glass of your tea.”

Still kneeling, Lila released a breath in relief and couldn’t help but look at him with slight confusion but quickly remembered her place and schooled her expression into poised neutrality. She glanced down before murmuring, “Well, with all due respect sir. I’m a servant placed on this ship by my master. I didn’t think it was expected of me to dine and drink with you and your men.” 

Remaining quiet Iroh regarded her as he took another sip. To Lila, it seemed her answer didn’t satisfy him as he shook his head in disagreement. Afraid she spoke out of turn, Lila fidgeted slightly with the empty tray in her hands.

Remember your place.

Mentally shaking the voice from her head, she began to rise from her spot beside the general. Before she could fully stand, Iroh’s voice cut through.

“Of course, it’s expected of you. You are important to this ship, just like how prince Zuko and his men are important to each other. Every person on this ship has a purpose and a duty that benefits us all. Just as you have yours. But before you go, sit. Have some tea with me, you deserve a moments rest.”

Her eye, ladled with exhaustion, widened in surprise at his bold comparison between the prince, the crew, and herself. Especially prince Zuko. All she did was fulfill orders and make sure everything on this ship was clean. Lila was nowhere near as valuable as the Prince of the Fire Nation, banished or not. Years at the Caldera Palace has surely taught her where her place was, and it wasn’t on the pedestal of fire nation royalty.

Even with that reminder, it didn’t stop the dust of pink from tinging Lila’s ears while she adamantly refused his words, “Sir, you mustn’t say such things-”

The retired military general smiled, kindly interrupting the stuttering girl’s babbling, “Please, sit. I’d be graced by your kind presence if you’d give an old man like me some company on this lovely day.”

Seeing that Iroh wasn’t going to relent, Lila let out a small sigh and sat on her knees before him on the other side of the pai sho table. Back straight and hands polieltly placed on her lap. Over the rim of his teacup Iroh peeks at her and couldn’t help but feel pleased. Like a chink in a wall, a little part of her mask breaks without her even noticing.

Once fully situated across The Fire Lord’s brother, Lila couldn’t help but still feel incredibly small and vulnerable. Never in her life has she ever been requested to sit with someone of such high nobility before, as equals, even if they were banished. For a while, they sat in complete silence. An awkward one on Lila’s end and a serene one on Iroh’s. Lila watched as Iroh wordlessly played pai sho and sipped his tea. Crisp south pole air blew past every now and then, gently running through Lila’s dark curls like invisible fingers. Genuinely the girl was at a loss of words so she stayed quiet and waited until Iroh had something to say, chosing to watch the tall walls of glaciers slowly drift by. While Lila was distracted by her captivating surroundings, Iroh threw back the last of his tea like nothing and let out a loud long sigh of satisfaction.

“So,” He chirps, “Where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?”

Remember your place

“Well, I come from a small town near the Fire Nation Capital and served the Fire Lord and his family growing up,” Lila responded without missing a beat. Though she doesn’t miss Iroh’s unconvinced look as he cocks an eyebrow at her. Lifting the teapot, he pours himself a second cup.

“No offense, but if you’re going to lie, at least make it a little more believable. Not laughable…although some good lies are pretty funny…” he quips. An aged hand coming up to stroke his chin.

‘He caught my lie,’ defeat briefly colors her face and Lila wonders if it’s okay to take off her mask, even if it’s just for a moment. Can she trust him?

“General Iroh-”

“Just Iroh or uncle Iroh is fine, I’m retired. You don’t need to keep formalities when you’re with me,” the old man laughs as he pours a cup of tea for Lila. The warm assurance Iroh gives off disarms Lila, even if she didn’t want that to happen, allowing her to relax just a little more. Her mask slipping from her fingers.

“Okay…Just Iroh,” Lila teases.

It came out a bit awkwardly, but she peeked her eye up anyway to gauge his reaction at her failed attempt of a joke.

However, she’s pleasantly surprised when she sees the stale joke earns her a guffawing laugh and she had to fight off the beginnings of a grin that wanted to push past her lips, “why do you want to know?”

“Just curious, but since you asked,” passing Lila her cup Iroh playfully narrows his eyes, “you don’t look or sound like you’re from the Fire Nation capital. Don’t get me wrong you’re a very beautiful girl,” Iroh clarifies, “but your facial features are different from the people in the capital. You also have a slight accent. Not only that but Lila isn’t a name commonly used in the Fire Nation.”

As Iroh spoke, each sentence had Lila’s eye lower, all the way down to her cup on the table. This man figured her out in a matter of seconds! To Lila part of her felt embarrassed for thinking she could out-smart a military leader. Retired, but still. An experiensed military man no less. 

Though she knew he didn’t mean any harm by what he said. He claimed to just want her company, and she was trusting that he only wanted to get to know her. No one has done this with her before so this was new territory, and Iroh has never given her a reason to fear or distrust him before during these three years, so she decided why not? And let her mask hit the floor. She looks at Iroh and he catches her good eye soften.

Words roll around her head for a moment before speaking, “My mother was born in the Northern Water Tribe, but she left. In her travels she met my father who lived in a small town not too far from Omashu. They married a few years after meeting. My dad really helped her out when she had nothing and no one to help her.” Iroh’s lips curled up into such a wide and infectious smile at the girl’s words, and funnily enough Lila found herself mirroring him, too.

“Wow, that is wonderful! Two completely different people, from completely different parts of the world meet and fall in love. That’s rare,” Iroh gushed as he teasingly added, “On top of that they made such a soft and gentle spirit too!”

Giggles, that were actually quite loud, erupted from Lila as she flushed at this witty old man and his compliments. “How do you know I’m soft and gentle?” She asks, taking a large gulp of tea, the warm brew filling and puffing her cheeks. Slowly she guzzles it down, cheeks deflating, before adding, “I could be really mean in reality.”

Golden eyes worn with years of life crinkled in amusement at her newly surfacing playfulness, “I have been around for many years. You can tell when someone has a genuine spirit and when someone doesn’t. You, miss Lila,” said girl freezes at the respectful use of her name. No one’s ever used ‘miss,’ or her name, at all when talking to her, “have a very soft and sprightly spirit, when given the chance to bloom,” Iroh declares with satisfied finality. To show he was set on his opinion, Iroh sat with his eyes closed, blocking out any protest Lila might’ve had as he reverently drinks his tea and moves a pai sho tile.

‘Miss Lila’ in turn sits in stunned silence, her brow deeply lined with thought and her mouth agape. Genuinely she couldn’t see what he saw in her but didn’t have the heart to correct him. It’d be futile to argue against him and win. So instead, she shyly thanked him, and awkwardly filled her cheeks again with more tea to distract herself.

For the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, as no one seemed to need Lila’s assistance, she got to know her first friend since little Chan from her village. They went back and forth talking about many things. Lila discovered that during his younger years Iroh learned and observed techniques from the waterbenders which in turn helped enhance his firebending. He regaled her with many stories of what he learned and how he learned it. A smile etched deep into Lila’s face as she tried to absorb everything he was saying. It was heart warning for Lila to see someone from another nation appreciate her mother’s culture. She also found out that he’s a decent tsungi hornist and can’t tell the difference between certain tea plants and the poisonous ones.

Iroh learned some things about Lila, too. He discovered that she had vast knowledge about plants and flowers from all over the world. Even the ones about tea! Thanks to a book about flowers her mother gifted her as a child. He also found out that under her pillow she keeps an earth kingdom bracelet her father made and can play the kalimba. They even taught each other songs native to their nations. Both of them found such wholesome companionship with each as other they kept this up every day for a few weeks during Iroh’s afternoon tea.

One day as the two friends sipped on a new tea Lila decided to try her hand in making, ginseng tea, Iroh decided it was time to discuss his nephew. However, the tea was too good for him to just leave it half finished. ‘I’ll begin once I finish this cup,’ he said to himself. So, they sat together in comfortable silence. In the background the rowdy voices of the ship’s crew could be heard, they too took a moment to relax from today’s work. Prince Zuko seemed to be on edge more so than usual so the men were taking in all the peace and quiet they could from their makeshift break.

Back to the main pair though, the clink of Iroh’s teacup being set on the table barely registered in Lila’s ears. She was currently taken by her surroundings as she watched a piece of ice fall from a passing glacier. A chilly breeze brushed and caressed her cheeks. Usually she’d shiver at the winds touch, but it seemed that over the past few weeks of Prince Zuko navigating these waters, the southern climate didn’t seem to bother her as much anymore. It was still cold though.

Feeling ready to talk Iroh clears his throat, “You know, I don’t really think you have much to be afraid of when it comes to my nephew Zuko.”

In an instant Lila’s revere for the beautifully cold landscape is broken as she meets Iroh’s steady gaze in surprise and discomfort. This was definitely a topic she wanted to avoid.

“I know Zuko is a very coarse person and rough around the edges, much like the rocks back home. But he really isn’t as bad as people make him out to be. Though he may be banished, he is still very honorable,” and for a moment Lila sits there taking in his words. She didn’t really know what to make of it. Her perception of the Prince vastly opposed Iroh’s. Although she understood why Iroh would say that about his nephew, he did seem to have a love the boy. Lila tries to muster the courage to say something but again she hears that voice,

Remember your place

Echoing in the back of her mind. After moments of her struggling to gather herself and Iroh waiting patiently, Lila stammers out, “Sir, I assure you I’m fine I do not fear-”

To which uncle Iroh chooses this moment to remind her, “Lila, you don’t need to be so formal with me, nor do you need to hide yourself. You know me. You can tell me how you really feel.”

Again, she hears that same phrase, remember you place, but louder this time attempting to drown her out. She tries to push back a little harder so the voice would go away, but to no avail. Lowering her eye in submission, specks of brown glinting in the sun’s rays, Lila quietly chokes out, “I shouldn’t say anything at all negative…concerning the Fire Lord or his children. Whether they are banished or not,” the rehearsed tone Iroh heard when he first spoke to her returned. The man could clearly see the internal struggle warring within her. The deep line crinkling between her brows, the downturned tilt of her lips, to the flicking of her eye as she couldn’t look at him dead on. It was like he was watching a two headed viper fight itself.

Choosing to divert his attention to his game he allows Lila the time she needs to fight the thoughts that overshadowed her. Once he noticed she’s calmed down a little he quips, “But, I’m not the Fire Lord nor am I the Fire Lord’s child.”

“I know,” Lila squirms a little and averts her gaze to her hands, “but you are the brother of fire lord Ozai and the uncle of prince Zuko. It would be rude of me to say anything negative about anyone from that family…and I don’t want to get in trouble with prince Zuko.”

Taking in the sight of his friend, her fingers fidgeting softly, Iroh gently counters, “I just want to know how such a soft and gentle soul like yours, has become so scared and broken.”

For a while, Lila sits in hesitant contemplation. Many times, and many ways Lila has only tasted pain and hurt her entire life. One of her eyes has complete loss of vision for goodness sake! No one ever bothers to give a passing glace to those seen as lesser than themselves. To peasants like her. No one cares for little servant girls…but Iroh does. Iroh, out of every person she’s ever met in the fire nation, has been the first and only one who’s truly treated her like she’s worth more. Worth more than a servant. Iroh always treated her like a human and a friend. In his eyes, she is a friend. Iroh is, someone she can trust…regardless of his bloodline. With that, her mind was made up. Like a baby bird spreading its wings to jump, Lila opens her mouth to speak – but closes it and freezes once she spots prince Zuko emerge from his quarters. The usual fire nation uniform adoring his body.

Red uniforms.

Just like that, the flower that Iroh saw trying to bloom, closed in on itself once more.

Saddened by the state of his friend, amber eyes close as Iroh shakes his head. Looking at his last pai sho tile he places down the fire symbol. ‘How ironic’, Iroh thought.

Finished with his game Iroh looks toward his nephew, a wide goofy smile now replacing the disheartened look before.

“Hello nephew, nice of you to join us on this lovely day! The sun is out, a nice breeze is blowing. Miss Lila here has even made a new delicious tea for me to try today, you should have some.”

Unphased by Iroh’s excited suggestion, prince Zuko maintains a cold and silent expression. As he makes his way next to his uncle his sharp gaze cuts through everyone on deck. Immediately his crewmates stop what they were doing as Zuko examines each person, silence being the loudest noise on the ship. Once his glare shifts to Lila for a moment her eye darts away, avoiding eye contact.

Prince Zuko then begins barking orders at the crewmen who were idling about. “Lieutenant Jee, care to tell me why all of my men are not where they’re supposed to be?”

Sensing the rapidly brewing eruption that was about to explode, Lila cautiously rose from the little table she and Iroh occupied. Yeah, she fully intended to creep away from the banished prince’s tirade and busy herself with work, until she felt a calloused but tender hand hold hers. Her eye shot to Iroh as he encouragingly motioned for her to sit back down, “If my nephew really needed something from you or felt like you weren’t doing your job right, he would’ve said so already. You’re okay, either way you don’t need to do anything until dinner time…which is in another hour.” He stated smugly. After those weeks of getting to know one another Iroh memorized her schedule like the back in his hand. Lila knew Iroh again wasn’t going to let her win this round, again, so she slowly sat down.

Once prince Zuko was done ordering -well more like yelling- at his men to get back to work he looked at his uncle, completely ignoring Lila, and rigidly mentioned, “If you need me uncle, I’ll be in my room meditating.”

“Good, good! Practice your breathing, it’ll help you with your control.”

Judging by the upturned eyes and smile Iroh gives his nephew, completely disregarding his attitude, Lila could tell he held a deep love for the prince. For her, she didn’t hold any of that. Prince Zuko was part of fire lord Ozai’s family. She just didn’t understand.

Then just before he turned away prince Zuko’s piercing gaze finally caught Lila’s as if finally realizing she was there.

“You. Servant girl”, his voice was hard as stone. His inflection unwavering and clipped, while hers was wavering and small.

“Yes?”

With prince Zuko’s attention fully on her, Lila’s brown eye flitted between his intense stare and her hands. The discomfort of being trapped under his gaze grew too much for Lila as she squirmed and tried to keep the fear from taking hold. He only acknowledged her presence, that’s it. ‘I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong today’, she rambles to herself, prattling off anything she might’ve done for him to call her name in such a way.

Cutting through her mental check list, terse words, “Get. To. Work,” are spat from between the prince’s teeth. His scarred face now inches away from her. Up close Lila could vividly see his raised skin, burnt red and irritated, marring the left side of his pale face. The disfigurement of the scar left his eye squinted in comparison to the other eye. Thoug she had to admit, the eybrow that wasn’t burnt off was perfectly arched. Within his amber gaze, Lila could see the anger that always seemed to linger there. However, she knew better than to test his already thinning patience.

With a breathless, “Yes sir,” Lila clambers to her feet, collects Iroh’s tea set as fast as she could and rushes away from the two. Heart pounding within her chest. Faintly, she could hear Iroh complain to prince Zuko about how he didn’t need to scare off his friend and how he should’ve tried the tea she made. To which Zuko yelled, “I don’t care! She doesn’t get special treatment just because she made you tea!” That, she heard loud and clear.

Lila powers through the corridors below deck and even though it’s an hour early she decided that she might as well help the chef prepare dinner since she did all her work earlier. This time as she rounds the corner, teacups clanking with every footfall, she smoothly side steps any shipmates that may be bustling out of the kitchen. ‘Don’t want a repeat of before,’ she notes to herself.

Upon entering the kitchen, she sees the chef and he raises his knife in greeting before continuing with the meat cutting. Last week prince Zuko docked at a nearby harbor to restock on any necessities the crew might’ve been running low on. Specifically, hygienic items and food supplies. “Servant girl!” the chef calls, keeping his eyes on the task at hand, “You’re just in time. I need you to start on the rice.”

Offering a timid smile, which he didn’t notice, Lila carefully placed the tea set in the sink, rolls up her sleeves and stands beside him to start on the rice. Like clockwork they quickly but efficiently finish dinner for everyone on the ship, with Lila scooping the last bit of rice into bowls to deliver to the prince and his uncle. Soon enough the rest of the men file in for dinner. Lila attempts to give one last smile to the chef, which again falls on blind eyes, before tiptoeing out of the now lively kitchen and right into lieutenant Jee.

“Lieutenant Jee!” Lila gasps in startlement, “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there!” She bows as best as she could while balancing the two trays of food. Jee waves it off with his hand, “You’re fine, just be careful next time.”

As he starts to make the line for dinner Lila haltingly calls his attention once more, “Um, mister, Lieutenant Jee, sir…” he hums. “Just to be sure, do you know if the prince and his uncle are in their rooms? I don’t want to be late again, especially with prince Zuko.”

“Yeah, last I checked that’s where they were.” Jee dissmisively responds before laughing with the other men at a joke the chef said. Lila’s presence completely ignored.

Laced with a hint of despondency, Lila whispers, “Thank you,” and continues her trek up from the lower decks, up onto the main deck, and to the command tower. All the while balancing the two hefty dinner trays. The tower was where those in charge slept. Reaching her first stop, Lila found herself in front of prince Zuko’s room. She began to feel her hands shake and quickly but carefully placed Iroh’s dinner tray down by the door. No way did she want to drop anything in front of her leader’s door and really risk getting punished for the first time. Reigning in her nerves Lila breathes out deeply and knocks.

No words of entry could be heard.

Trying her luck, she knocked harder one more time but still received no answer. Usually on any other day he’d call for her to enter and she’d place his food on his table, but this is the first time he hasn’t responded. Which leaves Lila at a crossroad. She wasn’t really sure what to do, she didn’t want to leave his food outside, but she didn’t want to just barge into his room. His privacy. And anger him. Then again, standing in front of his door doing nothing wasn’t going to solve anything either.

“I guess we won’t know until we try,” she sighs wearily.

The door squeaks as she apprehensively opens it and cautiously peeks her head in. The room is in its usual state, clean and very minimal. No elaborate decorations, just a few fire nation banners on the wall, a mattress in the corner of the room, a weapons rack, and a rug. The only time Lila would go in the prince’s room was when she’d do her daily cleaning rounds and food deliveries, like now. Then, her eye catches sight of him with his back facing her. Candles sit in front of him on the table, the flames rising and falling with every breath she hears him take.

“Prince Zuko?” Lila slips a foot past the door as she shakily squeaks, “I have brought you your supper, do you want me to place it where I usually-” a loud huff escapes prince Zuko’s mouth, flames shooting up in tandem sharply.

“If you wish I could come back later with-”

“You really seem to have forgotten your manners, haven’t you? I’m meditating.” Prince Zuko drawls, irritation filling his voice as he maintains his meditative position. Lila stares at his back in puzzlement, she didn’t mean any disrespect to her prince, she was only doing what she thought was right in this situation.

Even though Lila knew prince Zuko couldn’t see her she still bowed her head in apology, rushing out, “Please forgive me my prince. You didn’t answer when I knocked, a-and I didn’t want to leave you without food-”

Like a bomb, prince Zuko’s aggravation toward her initial interruption and her rambling explodes, “I don’t care as to why you felt the need to come in my room unannounced! You see I’m in the middle of something, and just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean you can start talking like I gave you permission to, when I didn’t! I’m not my uncle. You’re a servant, remember your place!”

Lila stands in stunned silence at Zuko’s verbal barrage, she was doing so well with her streak of staying on his blind side. Although she knows his words are nothing compared to what he’s said and done to his other men, tears still flood and gloss over her eye. Violent scenes she repressed played through her mind as clear as day. Mocking her.

Remember your place

Remember your place

Remember you place

Tears of pain and anguish flow down her burning cheek. The intensity of the man’s punch could still be felt as she cradles the side of her face. Sobs heave from the little girls mouth as she watches the flames engulf her home. When suddenly a large hand yanks a fistful of her hair. A shrill scream ripping through her busted lips as he drags her closer to the carnage he and his men waged. All dressed in red uniforms. She could hear her parents yelling her name from somewhere afar, and she tries to tear away from his grasp to find their voices. Though the vice like grip in her hair harshly jerks her head back, causing the girl to whimper in pain.

“Ah! Mommy, daddy! Where are you?” She can’t see them, but she could hear them fighting in the background. The sound of the other men in red wrestling with her parents could be heard too and it amps up the fear seizing her heart.

Tiny nails dig into the hand on her head, scratching and hitting the with all her might to escape. Though her attempts failed as she is aggressively thrown in front of the burning house, the heat of the flames licking for a taste of the child. Suddenly a blood curdling wail, that could be heard all around her terrorized village, shreds from her raw throat as searing pain erupts all throughout and within her eye. Vision becoming an all-consuming black.

The words, “Remember your place, you little brat!” Are roared in her face.

Finally, the tears silently bubble over her cheeks like a stream of water. Stifling any noise, Lila bites her lip and bows deeply, even though prince Zuko barely gives a sideway glance over his shoulder.

“I am, so, sorry my prince,” she chokes out hoping to the heavens above that he wouldn’t punish her or hear the strain in her words. She can’t be crying like a fool in front of her leaders, that’s not what she was taught. Serving was what she was there for, nothing else. Her master before made sure she knew that. Swallowing all the sobs she could without a sound, Lila carefully places his food by the door and quickly leaves shutting it with a soft click. All the while a slight frown could be seen on Prince Zuko’s lips. He caught sight of the tears falling from her eye.

Outside Lila takes a few deep breaths and leans against the door, the muscles in her lips twitch as she tries to stop the upcoming torrent of tears; but the dam breaks. Smothering her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, her other quivering hand covers her face. Lila starts bawling. Muffled sobs and gasps wrack her body as her eye squeezes in grief, hot tears spilling even faster. Now it wasn’t necessarily Zuko’s words that made her react like this, even if they were hurtful. It was what he inadvertently triggered. Memories too painful that she didn’t want but was forced to keep. After a few minutes of her trying to keep her mourning silent, she hears a door creak up ahead at the end of the corridor. With hitched breaths Lila drops her snot and spit stained arm as the hand covering her face quickly retrieves Iroh’s forgotten dinner tray. It was a little cold, but nothing a firebender couldn’t handle. Lila sniffles and schools her features back into a poised appearance and continues to her last stop. A trail of quiet tears streaming in her wake.

Upon reaching Iroh’s room, Lila wipes off any evidence of her crying and knocks on the door. This time around Lila hears a tired, but nice beckon to enter. Opening the door, she sees Iroh sitting on his bed and he beams at the food Lila has in her hands, until he sees her face. As quickly it appeared his smile is gone as he takes in her damp sleeve, tear stained cheeks, runny nose, and wet eyelashes. Iroh had an idea of what might’ve happened.

“Sometimes, life can be like a hurricane. It’s harsh and unforgiving at first, but they always end and the sun shines after. No matter how bleak the storm looks.”

At that, Lila breaks down again. Crying all the while, she fully enters the room and places her friend’s food on his bedside table before rushing to hug him. As she engulfs him, Iroh gently rocks her from side to side, rubbing her back. The motion reminds Lila of her father when he’d rock her to sleep, her arms tightening around Iroh. She missed her dad deeply. Softly her old friend began to sing one of the songs he taught her a few weeks ago.

“Winter spring, summer, and fall. Winter spring, summer and fall. Four seasons four loves, four seasons four loves.”

Although his voice wasn’t perfect, it still pulls Lila to join in, sniffling. Iroh’s voice strong and comforting, while Lila’s was weak and quiet. They sing it a few times until Iroh sees her tears and hiccups slow.

Feeling slightly better, Lila breaks from the hug and sits a few feet from Iroh.

“Thank you. I really needed that,” she croaks and rubs at her teary eye. The patch on her other eye was pretty damp so she knew before bed she’d have to clean it.

“Of course. As your best friend it is my duty to make sure you’re okay and laughing.” To which Lila giggles.

“How about this?” Iroh offers, “I tell you more about what I learned from waterbenders and you teach me more about the flowers you know?” Lila tiredly nods in response; her crying drained all her energy for the day. The two friends share dinner at Iroh’s behest, saying how she shouldn’t skip her meals, and chatted for a few hours. They talked about flowers, tea, and history -mostly Iroh teaching her what he knew- until Iroh noticed how exhausted Lila was and urged her to get some rest.

The next day was like any other day for Lila. In the morning she’d wake up at dawn, do her shower routine, clean her teeth, and tend to her eye. After that she’d set off to make breakfast with the chef for all of the shipmates. Deliver breakfast to Iroh and prince Zuko, and luckily for her today the prince wasn’t in his room. She only found a note that said he wasn’t hungry. Then once all the men were at their usual posts Lila would go ahead and tidy up all their sleeping barracks. By the time she’d be done with cleaning everyone’s rooms she’d have an hour or so to herself, which was filled with journaling or writing all Iroh has told her about waterbending, until she had to help prepare lunch. After she’d finish that, there’d be a fifteen minute window of nothing to do before Lila would make Iroh’s afternoon tea. Which was what she was doing right now.

Again, like before, Lila make her way from the kitchen, through the corridors, past her room, and up the stairs to get to the main deck. However, instead of sitting across from Iroh Lila places herself next to him as he greets her with a joke. Thankfully he doesn’t mention what happened last night as they laughed and talked as they usually do. Today Lila was trying to explain the differences between the white jade bush and the white dragon bush to Iroh. The white jade bush being a poisonous flowering plant. During her explanation, Lila couldn’t help but notice Iroh somewhat dazed off, and she snorted as she thought, ‘I really hope this doesn’t bite him in the butt’ when a question flickered in her. Checking her surroundings to see where prince Zuko was, she saw him a good few feet away facing the front of this ship. The scarred boy looked to be distracted with his own thoughts, so Lila figured it be now or forever hold her peace.

“Hey, uncle Iroh?”

“Hm”, he grunts, liquid gold eyes ever so focused on today’s particularly tricky game of pai sho.

Lila’s already soft-spoken voice lowered to a whisper, “Why did you agree to go with prince-”

Unexpectedly, from far away, a huge ethereal beam of light shoots up into the air, cutting through the sky! The beam cast a blue shadow over everyone and everything in the south pole, blue ripples rippling across the sky. Lila literally falls back in wonder from what she’s witnessing at this moment. No one on prince Zuko’s ship has ever seen anything like this during their three year search. When she looks to see if anyone else is seeing what she’s seeing her eye catches the banished prince’s reaction. Prince Zuko himself is also snapped from his own thoughts by the sight of this strange but amazing light. His jaw dropping in awe, but realization dawns as his features shift to one of aggressive determination.

“Finally,” he growls. Turning to Lila’s companion, who’s surprisingly unphased by what just happened, prince Zuko continues, “Uncle, do you know what this means?” His words seemed to be filled with something akin to…dare Lila say, hope? Desperation?

While keeping his eyes on his pai sho table Iroh asks, “I won’t get to finish my game? And Miss Lila won’t finish telling me about the…what was it called again?” Being in such close proximity to the prince after what happened last night, Lila wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer with him so near.

However, Prince Zuko answers for Lila declaring that the beam of light means his search for the Avatar it about to end. Though not sharing the same optimistic thought as his nephew, Iroh shakes his head and places down another pai sho tile. Still unwilling to relent, Zuko points to the shinning beam and snaps,

“That light came from an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!” Looking back, he sees the light disappear, causing the blue shadowing that was cast over everything to disappear as well.

“Or, it’s just the celestial lights,” Uncle Iroh suggests, lifting his arm to the sky with a tile in hand to further prove his point. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you to get too excited over nothing.” The absent-minded tone is apparent in Iroh’s voice although he means well. He’s just looking out for his nephew. For Lila, well she had a whole cauldron of mixed feelings. If that light really was from the Avatar then they could all finally go home. She should be happy, right? Three years of searching finally over. Except, she has no home, all that’s there waiting for her in the fire nation is a cold and malevolent palace. Nothing good was waiting for her there.

Again, Lila is pulled from her thoughts by Iroh, “please, sit. Why don’t you enjoy a cup of calming Jasmine tea Lila so kindly brewed?”

Like an awkward, and slightly uncomfortable middleman, Lila’s honeyed eye worriedly gauges Prince Zuko’s increasingly riled posture. Her eye slowly shutting to a cringe; she could tell the prince was about to explode from the continuous dismissal of his claims.

She was correct.

Prince Zuko barks in exasperation, “I don’t need any calming tea! I need to capture the avatar!”

As he ordered the helmsman to set a course for the light, Lila withdrew back to her thoughts. In a small way, she kind of understood why he was being so snappy. Though his attitude was usually foul. Still, he’s trying to go home after three years of banishment. Everyone on this ship wants to go home. Even if she had no place to call home, Lila could empathize in a way with why he’s so rude, and somewhat desperate, when speaking to his uncle the way he does. The Avatar is his ticket home.

Suddenly the wind picked up, whipping the dark hairs that fell from Lila’s bun. Turning to Iroh as he puts down his last pai sho piece, an air nomad symbol, Lila can’t help but blurt, “What does this mean?” Her words uneasy as she watches Iroh imploringly. Brown eye dancing over his form.

Iroh turns to her and gives a meaningful smile before laughing out, “It means our days of tea and pai sho together are coming to an end.” Lila looks on in confusion, “It’s almost time for you to help with dinner. Go, and make sure you bring some roasted duck for me tonight!” He jokes.

Later that night Lila finds herself repeating the same delivery process as before, rushing up the main deck and to the command tower. However, when she goes to knock on Iroh’s door she sees him coming from around the corner, “Oh uncle there you are. Where were you?”

“I was just coming down from the observation deck trying to tell Zuko he needs rest. Of course, my brooding nephew wouldn’t listen.” Iroh sighs dramatically as he walks to his door. However, all Lila can think about is the discomfort she feels with the possibility of being alone with prince Zuko again…and the stairs she has to climb to reach him.

“B-but, that’s a lot of stairs though…”

“Ha! How do you think I feel? An old man like me shouldn’t have to do workouts like that anymore!”

Iroh smiles when Lila giggle in response. Opening his door, he turns to his friend and gently takes his dinner tray bidding her goodnight. Left alone Lila continues her walk to find prince Zuko. “Up the stairs I go…”

By the time she reaches the observation deck she’s winded and breathing a little deeper. Her heart felt like a drum about to beat out of her chest, she did climb like four flights of stairs. Leaning against the opening of the door to the observation deck, she sees prince Zuko there with a simple night robe draped over his sleeping attire. He stood alert and focus despite it being dusk. Unlike him everyone else was getting ready to retire for the night. A little hesitant to address her presence in fear of repeating what happened last night, Lila waits for the scarred prince’s permission to let her speak. A few minutes pass and a breeze flows by, stray pieces of curls tickle Lila’s neck as the prince still stands in silence.

“Pardon my intrusion prince Zuko, but it’s dinner time and I have your food ready for you…”

Looking over his shoulder at her for a moment he simply rasps out in a gruff voice, “I’m not hungry…” before continuing to watch the darkening horizon.

“But, you haven’t eaten anything today, are you sure?” Regardless of the fear prince Zuko strikes in her heart, he’s still human and needs to eat.

Again, like yesterday an aggravated and abrupt huff leaves his mouth as he deeply drawls, “What, did I just say?”

Wanting to avoid another outburst tonight Lila timidly stammers, “You’re not hungry…” as the feeling of embarrassment from being talked to like a child washes over her.

“You may leave my presence.”

Lila turns and was about to head back down to the kitchen before a thought struck her. Quickly but silently she takes the bowl of rice and the bowl of roasted duck meat and pours half of it onto the serving tray, before leaving it near the doorway. That way if prince Zuko changes his mind the food will be there. Satisfied with herself, Lila walks down to the now empty kitchen, grabs a pair of eating utensils, and eats what was left in the bowls. “Well I’m not letting the food I made, which I know is good, go to waste,” and the food really was good too.

Once she was done eating, Lila washes the tray and grabs a cup filling it to the brim with water. Double checking the empty kitchen Lila carefully makes her way to her servants quarters. She takes gradual and slow steps in order to keep the water from spilling over.

In the safety of her room, Lila closes the door with her foot and nimble fingers lock it behind her. She sets the cup down in the middle of her room and goes to get the journal she’s been writing in from underneath her mattress. Lila pulls out the journal and returns to where she placed her cup. Sitting down with her legs crossed, she flips to the pages filled with information she wrote from the times Iroh would tell her about waterbending. Lila takes in a deep breath, holds it as if she were underwater, then slowly exhales through her mouth. Closing her eye, her hand reaches up and unwraps the cloth covering the other side of her face.

The cloth falls in Lila’s lap as her hand hovers over the cup of water, beginning to practice her waterbending. Although as she tries lifting the water from the cup Lila feels no connection to the energy inside of her. Her control is weak and shaky as the water spills over. Shutting both eyes Lila tries to concentrate harder, but all she can see are the memories from her past burned deep within her mind. 

Fire

Screams

Laughing

Fingers

Eye tattoo

With a shuddering breath Lila drops her hand and sighs in disappointment.

Remember your place.

The next morning Lila is on the main deck with Iroh, Prince Zuko, and some of his men. At Iroh’s invitation Lila watches as the prince does his firebending training, though she didn’t know as to why he wanted her there. The young servant had a very deep fear of fire, every blast of fire prince Zuko or his firebending companions made, memories of that little girl in red would flash by. Screams of her younger self and cackling of the little girl ring through her ears. So, Lila stood by the railing of the ship a few feet behind Iroh, not too close to prince Zuko and his fire but not too far in case they needed anything. With her eye on the ground Lila watched in fascination of the elongated shadows the morning sun created around her, until she heard Iroh begin to lecture prince Zuko on his firebending.

“No. Power and firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles,” Iroh clarifies. It’s clear there’s a tinge of stress in his words as Zuko failed to truly grasp what his uncle was trying to say.

“The breath becomes energy in the body,” Iroh continues and begins to demonstrate each point of his explanation, “the energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire!”

Lila gasps at Iroh’s last demonstration. A strong but controlled and precise stream of fire shoots from Iroh’s fist at prince Zuko who stood unflinching. The fire dissipated inches from the prince’s face. At the sound of the small noise Lila made, Zuko’s eyes flicker to hers for a quick second before settling back on Iroh. She could see how the prince’s muscular shoulders began to tense as he walked menacingly toward his uncle, so she tuned out the impending argument and turned to look over the ship's railing. The morning rays glistened over the water lapping at the ship below, creating a lovely twinkle. The shimmering water looked like diamonds to Lila as she mulled over the words Iroh tried explaining to his nephew.

Vaguely she could hear him call his nephew impatient in the background, but Lila’s mind was still committing what uncle Iroh said to memory, “patience,” she softly whispered to no one in particular.

Power comes from the breath…not the muscle.

Lila glanced behind her and saw that prince Zuko was still arguing with his uncle as some of the firebenders looked on. Zeroing in on the sea water once more, she suddenly felt a small beckoning from below…

Breath becomes energy in the body

With her hand extending over the railing, her heartrate picked up and her body tingled with nerves when she realized she’s really going to try this in front of firebenders. The ones who once tried to wipe out her people…but the push and pull of the water was too enticing, its seductive call too strong to ignore…

With a flick of the wrist-

The energy extends past your limbs and becomes-

Water! 

Water shoots out in the form of a wave away from the side of the boat. In no way was it a large or impressive wave, it was actually very small. However, it was enough to make Lila laugh and light up in elation. A huge smile decorating her lips. A smile she hid behind her hands. However, when she tried to recreate what she did, nothing happened, the feeling…the connection, was gone. Her smile dissolved and fell, the light in her face dimming as she turned back to the men on deck.

Her honey colored eye widened in surprise at seeing both Iroh and Prince Zuko’s golden gazes pinned on her.

“…Um, hello.” Lila shyly breathed with a small wave of her hand. A twinge of fear twisted in her heart at the off chance of her getting caught waterbending.

“I was just telling my nephew how even you have more discipline and patience, and you’re not even a bender,” Iroh says bellowing a loud laugh. The imaginary weight on Lila’s chest disappeared as she awkwardly forces out a laugh too -in relief- before catching the sneer on prince Zuko’s lips. His hands closing into a fist, Lila was sure he probably didn’t like that comparison.

“I mean, but sir I’m just a servant it doesn’t matter what I have or don’t have,” Lila responds as she lowers her gaze. Iroh opened his mouth to object but the young servant girl beat him to it, “anyway, if you are in no need of assistance,” she casts a look between both Prince Zuko and Iroh, “I must go help with lunch. If you’ll excuse me.” Demurely Lila bows her head and turns to go.

With Prince Zuko was back to sparing with the other firebenders, Iroh took the chance to call out, “Wait.” 

Lila turns and regards him curiously as he begins to pour a cup of water, “Here, have this before you go. You might need it if you get thirsty.” He carefully hands her the tin cup. It looked like it was about to overflow. Lila looks at him questioningly but all he gives her is a knowing smile that she couldn’t quite place.

Later, after she finished helping the chef with lunch, Lila made her way back to her room, the cup still in her hands. She only took one sip from it today, either way she was going to meet with Iroh for afternoon tea soon, so she didn’t think much about it. Once inside she sat at the edge of her mattress and placed the cup on the floor in front of her. Resting her elbows on her knees, she folds her hands and places them over her lips as she stares at the water. A thought struck her, debating whether or not she should try bending again.

“I shouldn’t, I can’t even properly control it!” Lila hissed to herself.

Until Iroh’s words about breath and energy filtered through the back of her mind. Then another image appeared. The image of prince Zuko meditating with the candles in his room a few nights ago. Releasing a sigh Lila gave in and sat on the floor in a crisscrossed position, straightening her back like how she saw prince Zuko do it. Like the night before, she untied the cloth covering her face and closed her eyes. The palms of her hands braced on her knees. Deep breath in, she inhaled, and a deep breath out, she exhaled. Slowly a sense of calm and peace crept over her. Concentrating on her breath and the energy inside that she couldn’t really feel yet. Lila repeated the technique over and over, and even though she didn’t see it, with every breath she took the water rippled.

*

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think in the comments. I hope you enjoyed it.

[objection-argumentative]

Soulmates Part 6

Masterlist!

I know his dad is already dead in the show, but I want him alive for the drama. if you have any ideas or feedback, please let me know 

I hope you’re enjoying it!

Kelsey eyes fluttered open at 5:50 am; she could feel Rafael staring down at her. "you know if you take a picture, it will last longer" Kelsey smiled up to Rafael over sweetly as she got to throw the statement right back into his face. He chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, dulce chica, I intend to. I have to go soon. I have to get ready for work and change my suit." Kelsey nodded and snuggled back into the older man "just five more minutes." Rafael kissed her temple "baby, I need to get going. My uber is ten minutes away from your apartment, and we have a busy day at work." The couple got out of bed. Kelsey took her robe off the bathroom door and tied it around herself, and brushed her teeth while Rafael got dressed back into last night's clothes.

Kelsey walked out of the bathroom to Rafael; he was buttoning up his coat. The young detective pulled him into a warm embrace. "I know I am going to see you in a few hours, but I don't want you to go." "I know neither do I chica dulce" Rafael kissed her temple and removed himself from her embrace. "My uber is here, baby. I will see you soon." Kelsey nodded her head as he exited her apartment.

At 8:50 am, Kelsey walked through from the lift to her desk. She didn't have time to get her usual coffee order as she decided to have a bath instead of a shower; because of this decision, she didn't have time to do her makeup or grab herself a coffee. Kelsey felt self-conscious because she didn't have any of her makeup on, and she hadn't had her daily caffeine fix.

Just as Kelsey got to her desk, an arm came round from the back of her and produced her vanilla latte "one vanilla latte that is far too sweet to be called coffee for a sweet girl" she turned around, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Rafael placed a kiss on Kelsey's lips that turned heated very fast; they pulled away from each other as soon as they heard the catcalls from the squad. The couple smirked at each other "I think we have an audience counselor." she whispered to the older man as she took the coffee cup from Rafael's hand. Kelsey turned back to her desk to turn on her laptop just as the ADA stepped away from her.

*7 pm that evening*

"Excuse me, are you a detective? I want to report an assault on my daughter's behalf. My name is Mrs. Emily Junave" an older white woman with ginger hair approached Kelsey's desk. "yes, ma'am, I am. How about you make yourself comfortable over there on one of those leather seats, and I will grab my partner, and we can discuss the assault."

Kelsey and Rollins followed the older woman to the seats and sat down; " I'm detective Kelsey Hardy, and this is Detective Amanda Rollins, so you say that your daughter may have been assaulted." "Yes, that's is correct. Katie has been feeling very unwell recently, and I took her to the doctor's office this morning, and we have just found out she is 14 weeks pregnant," the older woman explained. "Does Katie have a boyfriend that could be the father of her unborn child?" detective Rollins questioned "No, there aren't any significant men in her life; both her grandfathers died before she was born, and my husband left Katie and me when she was three years old, and Katie doesn't have a boyfriend; she isn't allowed." "Mrs. Junave, how old is Katie?" Kelsey asking cautiously, feeling like there is something she is missing "Katie is 25; we were going to have a big party to celebrate." Both of the detectives looked at each other and looked back at the older woman in front of them. "Mrs. Junave, did Katie tell you that she has been assaulted?" Kelsey cocked her head to the side as she waited for the older lady reply "No, she didn't, but I know that Katie didn't willingly have sex with anyone." the older woman looked between the two blonde detectives and realized that she wasn't getting anywhere. The two detectives believed that she was just an overprotective mama bear. "You don't believe me, do you? I know my daughter couldn't consent to sex. If you don't think I'm telling the truth, come and find out for yourself."

The older lady took off down the corridor with the detectives hot on her heels. The three women stop at the wooden benches in a nearby hall. When they got to the wooden benches, they could see a young larger girl sat down. She faced the window so nobody could see her. Mrs. Junave crouched down to be level with her daughter; "Katie, can you say hello to the nice detectives?" Katie turned around and faced the two blonde women. Rollins and Kelsey looked at each other, shocked as they didn't expect Katie to be Down syndrome. "Hello," Katie replied bluntly. "Hi Katie, My name is Amanda, and this is Kelsey. We are going to help you." Mrs. Junave ushered Katie up and held her hand "well, if you excuse me, detectives, Katie has had a long day, and it's her bedtime now. We will come in tomorrow morning to answer your questions and pass along any information that you need." Like that, the mother and daughter were heading towards the exit, ignoring the detective's calls to bring them back.

"Rollins, Hardy, what we got?"  Captain Cragen asked as he came out of his office. "25-year-old Katie Junave, She has been brought in by the mother as she is 14 weeks pregnant. The mother claimed she had been raped as she isn't allowed a boyfriend or has any significant males in her life." Rollins answered "so we have a very delusional mother thinking her little girl is innocent and pure, and then all of a sudden she finds out she is pregnant, which shatters that idea, and now she is crying rape?" Rafael walked from the bullpen to the desks to hear about the new case." "Counselor, it's not like that. The girl is down syndrome which is tricky because we don't know what level she is or what happened. We just spoke to the mother, and we briefly met Katie before she was whisked off for bedtime." Kelsey spoke with frustration in her voice towards the mother.

Kelsey sat down at her desk to type up the notes from the disclosure made by Mrs. Junave. Rafael came up behind her and started kneading the Knots out of her neck "why don't you finish up your notes, and you can come to my apartment. I will cook, we can have some wine and watch trashy tv. We could even stop by your apartment for an overnight bag?" "That sounds amazing. Give me an hour to finish up, and I will meet you at my apartment." Rafael could burst with happiness right now. "Okay, dulce chica, I'm going to my office to drop these files off and go to the market to pick supplies. I will see you in an hour."

Kelsey finished up and headed home; as she walked through the door, she could see her roommate Joanne on the couch watching some documentary. "Who were you sneaking out of the apartment this morning?" Joanne quizzed "My soulmate Rafael Barba, which happens to be my squads ADA at work." Joanne looked at her in disbelief "You have a soulmate bond?" kelsey rolled up her sleeve and showed her roommate her scar. "I'm so happy for you, Kels. You deserve to be happy in life and make your own choices. Promise me ill get to meet him soon, and we can have a girl's night to discuss him" Kelsey laughed at her best friend. "Of course we can. We can discuss all the nitty-gritty details over cocktails, but right now, I need to pack an overnight bag as I am spending the night at his place."

Kelsey walked to her bedroom and packed a bag for herself. She added her makeup and toiletries bag with her clothes and PJs. Kelsey zipped the bag up and placed it on the floor. Just as she stood straight, Kelsey saw him lent up against the door frame. He then made his way over to her and pulled her in for a chaste kiss. "Hey baby, uber is downstairs if you're ready" she nodded her head and grabbed her bag. Leaving the apartment, she said goodbye to Joanne, and they both made their way downstairs.

Kelsey and Rafael were cuddling on the couch with a glass of white wine each, relaxing in each other's company. All of sudden, there was pounding on his front door. It was as if the person's life depended on being in the apartment. Rafael opened the door, fully intending to shout at the individual who was ruining his perfect evening. But as the door swung open and two furious older women stormed into the apartment.

They didn't even see Kelsey sitting on the couch in their rage. "Rafi, he has outdone himself this time. He is moving back home from Miami. He is also getting married-she is nineteen," the younger woman of the pair fumed at Rafael. Then it was the older one's turn to speak. "He wants a second chance of a relationship with you. as if you would leave everything in the past and forget to play happy families with him and his child bride." both women were looking at Rafael expectantly for a reaction. he sighed heavily. "Mami, Abuela, would you like a glass of wine?" both women shrieked. "WINE! YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS,". he sighed again, and kelsey rubbed his back "nothing that man does ever surprises me anymore. My father is a law of himself, and we are all dolls in his theatre. If he wants to reach out, let him it won't last long like his marriage. He will be back onto better things soon."

The two women look defeated."I guess your right, Rafi. He makes me mad that he lives likes this with no consequences." The older woman spoke. The younger woman hasn't stopped staring at Kelsey since she rubbed her son's back. "Who are you?" Rafael gives his mother a warning look " This is Miss Kelsey Hardy. She is a new detective with the Manhattan Special Victims Unit and so happens to be my soulmate." he then rolls his sleeves up and shows the room his scar; there is a deafening silence.

[occasionally-writing]

Chilly Weather Pains

A/N: I’ve been mulling over this idea for a bit but I finally picked up the motivation to write. I’m sorry if it’s not too good since this is the first time I am writing for these two and for the fact I haven’t written anything since Dad passed away. But I wanted to try and since the drama ended yesterday, I couldn’t help but write for them. I will be writing more for them in the future if anyone wants to send in prompts for these two <3 So yeah...thanks for reading it guys :)

Summary: When Tian experiences pains coming from the scar on his chest, he chalks it up to the cold morning and gets on with his day. As the ache becomes too much for him to ignore, Tian goes back to the cabin where Phupha is waiting for him, having the solution to his problem. 

Word Count: 2536

Scrunching his eyes as the sun peeked through the open windows of the  soldiers’ cabin, Tian grumbled something illegible and rubbed his sleep crusted eyes, wincing when the sun beams temporarily blinded him before he sat up. Letting out a long yawn, Tian glanced to the side of the bed that Phupha usually occupied and frowned, seeing that his boyfriend was no longer there, the side of his bed cool to the touch which told Tian that he hasn’t been in bed for a good while now. Stretching out and groaning when his body cracked, Tian ruffled his hair and moved to stand up, the cold wood beneath his feet shocking him slightly as he stumbled. Becoming aware of the chill around him, Tian shivered and rubbed at his arms, a dull ache echoing from his chest. 

“Oh, Tian! You’re finally awake, huh?” Hearing a sudden voice, Tian jumped and spun around, letting out a sigh when he realized it was only Yod, the man smirking at the look of surprise that was surely on Tian’s face. Feeling his smirk leave him, however, when he noticed Tian rubbed at his chest softly, Yod stepped further into the room and patted him on the shoulder, his worry written plain on his face. “Is your chest hurting you? If so, why don’t you check up with Dr. Nam? I’m sure he won’t mind!”

“No, no. It’s okay P’Yod. It’s just a little achy, probably because of the chill in the air. I’ll be okay, I promise,” Tian chuckled, giving his friend a grin to show that it wasn’t that serious. Letting out a hum and nodding, since he knew that Tian would only deny seeing the doctor more if he pushed, Yod squeezed his shoulder and gave a salute as he walked out, letting Tian know that he was heading to help Rang out with doing the morning patrol. Waving him off, Tian waited for the curtain to the cabin to stop moving before his hand found his chest again, his thumb tracing lightly at the scar underneath the fabric of Phu’s borrowed shirt. “Maybe he’s right...I’ll give it some time though. It’s time for a shower anyways.”

Gathering his clothes for the day, Tian chose something simple and tossed a towel over his shoulder, fetching some of the supplies that he knew Phu kept in the bedside table. Stepping outside, Tian blew out a breath as the chill in his bones grew deeper, the shivers racketing his frame, his steps moving quicker so he could get the shower done faster and change in the warmth that was his clothes. Removing his pajamas, Tian dumped water over himself and quickly lathered the soap, washing his entire body before he moved to his hair, soaking it with another bucket of water and rubbing some shampoo into it, rinsing it quickly once he was sure he got ever part of his hair soaped up. 

“Good god it’s cold...I think it’s all out now, towel...towel...towel…” Tian mumbled to himself, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around his waist, stepping out of the manmade shower and grabbing his clothes. Jogging into the cabin once more, Tian tossed his pajamas in the basket and slipped on his new clothes, using the towel to ruffle dry his hair. Checking his appearance out in the mirror, Tian smiled when he felt satisfied and slipped on his boots, tying them firmly. Grabbing the army jacket that he knew belonged to the Chief, Tian slipped it on before he threw his messenger bag over his shoulder and tightened the strap. Brushing off the jacket, Tian made sure he had everything and stepped out, squinting at the sun as it seemed like it wasn’t doing a thing to warm the area around him. “Time to make the walk to the village...I don’t think anyone would be at the school but it wouldn’t hurt to make new lesson plans while I’m there.”

Trying not to notice the dull ache becoming more like a sharp pain, Tian let his eyes survey around him, taking in the chirping birds and squirrels of the forest. Hearing the sound of chatter, Tian knew he was close to the village and the sight that greeted him made a smile rise on his lips. It was that time again where the Shaman visited and gave his blessing to the villagers. Nodding to some of the villagers that noticed him, Tian smiled at everyone who met his gaze, giving the Shaman a polite wai as he continued his trek towards the school. Not seeing his boyfriend throughout the walk in the village, Tian tried not to let it show that he was looking for him before he stepped up the stairs of the school and entered the building. 

“I wonder where Chief is...and doesn’t he usually do the morning patrols? Why was P’Yod and P’Rang doing them?” Tian questioned to himself as he placed his bag on the desk and sat in the seat, pulling out his notebooks so he could write down potential lesson plans. Tapping his pencil against the paper as he went through the plans he had written out, Tian glanced up at the clock Phupha had put up on the wall and blinked. Was he really sitting there for two hours? Biting his lip, Tian tapped his pencil against the desk for a moment, deciding to finish up. Closing his books and packing them back in his bag, Tian stood up and threw the bag over his shoulder, stepping out of the school and taking in a deep breath. “It’s been two hours...no wonder Chief checks on me so much. Speaking of Chief...where is he?”

“Looking for Phu?” Smiling when Tian noticed Doctor Nam walking up to him, he gave the Doc a wai and glanced around him, not caring anymore if it was obvious that he was looking for Phupha. Snickering as he noticed Tian’s eyes searching what he could see in the village, Nam patted his shoulder which gained the other’s attention, the look of confusion plain and clear on Tian’s face. “Phu was with me but I think he’s back at the cabin now! Oh and before I forget, Yod told me you were experiencing some aches from the scar, I gave Phu some stuff to help with it. Keep the tube because the weather does change a lot here and the mornings can be chilly.”

“O-oh! Okay, thanks P’Nam! I think I’ll head back to the cabin once I’m done with what I have to do here. I was thinking of stopping by Khama’s house and saying hi to Longtae,” Tian thought out loud, making Nam snort since Phupha did the same thing and now that him and Tian lived together, Tian seemed like he was adopting some of the Chief’s mannerisms. Giving Tian a pat on the shoulder, Nam grinned and set off for his office, Tian waving him off and practically hopping off the steps of the school, making his way on the well known path towards Longtae’s home. Hearing the sound of roosters crowing, Tian grinned and quickened his steps, stopping in front of the cozy little hut to see Khama feeding the chickens and Longtae sitting on the porch. “Good morning Khama, hi Longtae!” 

“Oh! Good morning Tian! Not with the Chief today, I see?” Khama announced loudly, scaring some of the chickens which caused Longtae and Tian to chuckle. Sitting beside Longtae, Tian shook his head and explained how he was at the school and was coming up with new lesson plans to teach the children once Monday came. Smiling fondly at how excited Tian seemed when he was talking about teaching the village children, Khama nodded and finished up the task with feeding the chickens, leaving Longtae and Tian to talk. Not quite knowing how long he was with Longtae, Tian announced his leaving, which caught Khama’s attention. “Why don’t you and Phupha come have dinner with us again sometime? It feels like it’s been years since our last meal together.”

Chuckling at this, Tian promised to bring it up to Phupha and strolled off, giving one last wave to Longtae before he began his trek back towards the village, knowing that the Chief was most likely waiting for him. Greeting some more villagers as he made his way through the village, Tian followed the path that took him to the soldier’s cabin, the torches helping with lighting the way since the evening sun was beginning to set and the stars began to twinkle in the sky. Finally making it to the cabin, Tian rubbed at his aching chest and stepped up the stairs. Rolling his eyes with a grin at the commotion that was echoing from the dining area, Tian made his way inside and bit back a yelp when he came face to face with a stern looking Phupha. 

“Chief! Damn, you scared me!” Tian gasped out, placing his hand on his heart as Phu softened and reached out, taking Tian’s bag and placing it on the hook where it's usually kept. Staying in his spot, Tian only moved when Phu gestured him over towards the bed, sitting his boyfriend on it as he pulled out the tube that Nam had mentioned to Tian earlier. “I’m sorry I took so long to come back, Chief. Uh...is that the ointment that P’Nam told me about?”

“Yeah, Yod told us that you seemed uncomfortable when he greeted you this morning. Why didn’t you go to Nam’s if you were experiencing some pain?” Phu gently reprimanded, arching his brow in a warning when Tian opened his mouth like he was going to argue. Deciding against it, since he knew that Phupha was probably right, Tian shut his mouth and muttered a soft apology, playing with a loose thread on his jeans. Letting out a sigh, Phu shook his head and sat next to his boyfriend, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t worry about it now. Just let me help, okay? Take your shirt off so I can apply the ointment.”

Flushing slightly, Tian huffed as he obviously wanted to argue but he knew it would get him nowhere since Phupha was just as stubborn as him, maybe even more so. Glancing around to make sure the shutters to the windows were closed, Tian sighed and did what Phu wanted him to, shrugging off his shirt and placing it beside him as the chill of the air caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. Letting his eyes take in the thick scar on Tian’s chest, Phu hummed softly when he noticed how red the skin around it was, just knowing it was because of the weather around them. Popping open the cap to the ointment, Phupha put a good enough amount on his fingers before he met Tian’s eyes once more, motioning that he was about to touch him.

“It might be cold, so I’ll apologize in advance,” Phu warned, wrapping his arm around Tian’s shoulder before his medicine coated fingers touching the raised scar.  Jumping from shock as the cold cream touched him, Tian cursed and squeezed the sheets beneath his fingers, shivering until the ointment began to warm. Being gentle as he can, Phu carefully spread the medicine around the scar and on top of it, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. Observing his boyfriend, Tian couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face, secretly loving how caring Phu truly was when it had something to do with him. “Okay, I think I got it spread out pretty well...did it help a little?”

Taking in a deep breath and noticing the way the pain dulled to something Tian could ignore again, he nodded, and moved to put his shirt back on while Phupha capped the ointment and left to wash his hands. Cracking up softly when he heard the cheers and whistles when Phupha had stepped outside, Tian let himself drop on the bed, his eyes examining the ceiling while he listened to the demands the Chief gave the others, Tian’s eyes rolling affectionately as the playful mocking continued. Noticing when his boyfriend came back into the room with a sigh, Tian snickered some more, which made Phu grumble and kick off his boots, making his way to the bed and easily launching himself over Tian to the free space that he had claimed before. 

“You’re lucky I love you, or else you would’ve got a punishment for laughing at me,” Phu grunted out, making himself comfortable before he pulled Tian close, letting his boyfriend use one of his arms as a pillow. Snuggling more into Phu’s embrace, Tian stuck his tongue out at Phu, who scoffed and reached out, digging his fingers into Tian’s side, making his boyfriend squirm and snort out laughter, his apologies high pitched due to his giggles. Pulling Tian closer when he was done teasing him, Phu pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, smiling at the adorable leftover giggles that left Tian’s mouth. “What were you doing throughout the day? Rang said that you weren’t here for most of it.”

“Well...I went to the school for a few hours and thought out some new lesson plans for the kids. After that, I talked to P’Nam for a bit and then I went to Khama’s house and hung out with Longtae for a bit...which reminds me. Khama would like us to have dinner with them some time,” Tian rambled as he talked about his day, reminding Phu about the future dinner plans they had to make with the village chief. Nodding softly as he listened to Tian talk, Phu kept the small smile on his face until Tian noticed it and gave him one of his own bright smiles. “If I’m being honest, Chief. I missed you throughout the day. When I woke up and saw you were beside me, it was weird.”

Snorting softly at the pout that was on Tian’s face, Phu ruffled his hair which got a whine from his boyfriend before they were suddenly face to face, their eyes observing each other until Phu let his eyes drift down to Tian’s lips. Doing the same, Tian swallowed the growing lump in his throat and it wasn’t long until Phupha leaned down and pressed their lips together, the kiss soft and displaying everything they were feeling for each other in that moment. Pulling away, Tian let his eyes flutter open as Phu kept their foreheads pressed together, their eyes meeting as similar smiles rose on their lips. Moving so that he was pressed firmly against the warmth of Phu’s body, Tian let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, letting the soft caress of Phu’s hand on his chest put him to ease, the soldier’s fingers gently tracing the sensitive skin of his scar over his shirt. Nuzzling his nose into Tian’s hair, Phupha let out a sigh of his own and relaxed for the first time that day, not minding the way Tian dozed off, his eyes never leaving the adorable sight of his boyfriend resting peacefully.

[hermits-that-craft]

Marionette Roulette - Chapter 3

TW: Teen death mention, crying, signs of abuse

ao3 link in the reblogs

Tommy lies in his bed, sleep gently placing him in his bed. He was with Tubbo, in his dreams. Why couldn’t he stay? He misses his friend.

Tommy hears footsteps around his small cell. They have a strange sound - both heavy and armoured, clinking against the ground, but light as well. As though the person is wearing armour, but hiding it under layers.

Tommy knows, starvation addled mind still functioning enough for fear to recognise that Dream is the visitor. He doesn’t sound like Techno, or Wilbur, or even Phil as he walks. And in any case, Dream is the only one who is allowed to visit him. Who would visit Tommy, the teen who got his best friend killed? The teen who hurt so many people that Techno knew before he left to join Wilbur’s revolution, his older brother trying to keep him from harming more. The teen that Wilbur knew was a monster, Pogtopia helping him see that Tommy is the route of his problems.

Tommy’s head blooms in pain, and Tommy can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. Dream looks to him, surprised that the teen is awake.

He’s spent a week in the prison without moving or eating, just taking sips of water as Dream forces him. Tommy knows, somehow, that Dream is worried, or even fearful, for what is happening to Tommy.

But it hurts. His head hurts so much - too much. Why does it hurt so much?

“Oh, Tommy.” Dream hums in sympathy, and Tommy feels the bed dip from the weight of the other man. “See - this is what happens if you don’t eat. You get hungry.”

“Head.” Tommy curls into a ball, his hands on the top of his head. He can feel warm, sticky blood in between his fingers. “Bleeding. Hurts.”

“No, don’t be an idiot.” Dream tutts, smacking Tommy’s hands away from his head. “You’re just hungry, because you’re stubborn and you refuse help. That’s why Tubbo died - you refused help.”

Tommy wails at the reminder, the pain in his head spreading to his fingers, feet and tailbone. His whole body feels like it’s on fire - it’s not fair.

“You know, Tubbo’s funeral is tomorrow.” Dream says. “His father even came. Where is your father, Tommy? Picking up better children because you’re a monster who kills everyone he loves?”

Tommy screams again, all anger and grief and acceptance, because deep down, Tommy knows that Dream is right.

Tommy is a monster. He’s the worst of all his brothers, of anyone in his family. 

Of anyone on the server.

---

“Welcome to the server, Captain-”

“Save it Dream.” The man says, walking past the server’s admin to Phil, who avoids looking at the man. Jordan takes his sunglasses off, his eyes filled with tears.

“Jordan-”

“Tell me it was a prank.” Jordan begs his friend, his voice hollow. “Tell me I didn’t outlive Tubbo. Tell me that my son is just around the corner, giggling under his breath. Tell me that this server, that was promised to be safe, is safe! Tell me that Tubbo is still alive!”

“I’m sorry.” the words fall like a guillotine from Phil’s lips, and Jordan falls to his knees, a sob ripping itself out of his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Who.” It’s not a question, rather a demand for justice. “Who?”

“Me.” Dream says blankly. “I was aiming for Tommy, your son jumped in front of him.”

“You mother fucker.” Jordan spits, lunging at the admin as though killing him will bring back Tubbo. “Bring him back! Bring my son back! You swore that this SMP would be safe for him - for him to experience SMP’s before he turned 18! How could you!”

“I can’t bring him back.” Dream lies, though the only people who know he’s lying are held on a tight leash. It doesn’t matter though, Phil and Techno escorting Jordan away from Dream, leaving behind the admin, who in turn stalks away from the world spawn.

Sunglasses lie in freshly kicked up mud, their red frames shining in the sunlight. A small hand reaches down, giggling as he picks it up.

He doesn’t know why his Dad is so upset with Dream, but he’s sure that he’ll feel better once he gets his glasses back!

---

The funeral isn’t as long as it could be, but no one knows if they would have stayed stable if it was longer. It rains the entire funeral, appropriately, and although no one lights the meadow where the teens are buried, no mobs enter. Red poppies and blue forget-me-nots grow as though the meadow was destined to be a cemetery. 

The caskets are lowered into the graves silently. Tubbo’s is small - too small, why is it so small - though Tommy’s is the same size as an adults it’s light. Two disks lie in it, along with some polaroids that Ghostbur had donated, of times long since passed. They were not Ghostbur’s in origin, but Tubbo’s and Tommy’s. The thought still counts, as the ghost did not attend the funeral, or say anything to the living.

Niki is the first to speak. Her words don’t flow like poetry, and she stumbles and chokes her way through her sentences, but the emotions are raw and true and they bring the most comfort to the fathers who have lost their sons. 

Quackity speaks next. It’s a short speech, one that he wrote with Karl and Sapnap’s help, the paper tearstained and running. His hands shake while he speaks, talking about the good times he had with the two teens. New L’Manburg, running drugs, even parts of Pogtopia and Manburg are brought up, and by the time he leaves the stand, Quackity is close to collapsing. Karl and Sapnap pull him into a close hug, letting the man cry on their shoulders and silently promising each other that they will not be the next to go - for the fiancee’s sake.

Fundy takes the stand, and though he can’t stand for more than five minutes, his speech brings up memories of before wars and countries and disks - he talks about a meadow so similar to the one that Tubbo and Tommy are being buried in. About playing with his uncle and friend who were just younger than him. He collapses soon after saying that Tubbo and Tommy had asked him to bury them in a meadow like it, hoping that they like the one he chose for them. Eret helps him off the stage, pulling Fundy away from Phil and Techno without Fundy needing to ask him.

Phil takes the stage quietly. He makes it through his entire speech without crying, though he collapses into Techno’s arms the second eyes are off him. His speech was neither short nor long, here nor there. It talked about Tommy, the gremlin who never grew old enough to discover what type of hybrid he is. Was. It spoke about Tubbo, the kind boy who would play with Tommy in the meadow near their home. It never once said anything about power, though it’s clear that Phil wanted to blame power struggles for the deaths.

Jordan speaks, in a wistful tone that tells everyone exactly who gave Sam the black eye. He talks about raising Tubbo, about how when Tommy was over the two boys were a handful but sweet. How the two would insist on helping him make dinner if Tommy was spending the night. He never brought up how he was promised a safe server for his son to play on. It’s clear in the hardness in his eyes that he despises the admin for his sons death.

Ranboo is the last to speak. He waits until Phil and Techno leave before taking the stage, and the silence that falls at the enderman hybrid’s little rebellion tells him that he needs to let everyone know. He reads every memory of the pair in his memory book. From burning Georges house to meeting them on the prime path, thinking that they were going to grind. Ranboo is not a poet, but the venom he spits at Dream is enough to make everyone remember the once living president. Ranboo speaks about hearing of Tubbo’s death. Of Tommy’s exile, and what he witnessed once. Of broken screams that he heard from Logstedshire after Tommy was long asleep. Of wet sobs that he could hear from the presidential office after a meeting with the butcher army.

“Their deaths are on everyones hands.” Ranboo spits, before he walks into the forest. He stalks into the forest, small burns pocketing his face as he refuses to bring an umbrella. 

---

Tommy lies on his bed, blood soaking through the sheets and covers. He doesn’t know how much more pain he can handle, how much more he can take. It hurts so much, bones growing in places no human should be able to grow them. 

Though he is Phil’s son, and none of them were human.

Phil himself is an avian hybrid, Techno being a pig (boar, Techno would say). Wilbur was more difficult to work out, but he was a salmon hybrid, practically a siren with the talents he had.

Tommy is 16 now. Of course his hybrid traits are coming in. 

He remembers when Techno and Wilbur’s came in. The hugs from Phil, the carefully brew potions to help them. The cards and care and love that was given to the twins. Tommy will never get that. He doesn’t get warmth, freshly dried clothes from the drying machine. He gets cold obsidian walls and a wall of lava that he can’t even drag himself towards. 

Dream chained his ankle to the corner, saying something about ‘pets’. Tommy doesn’t know, Tommy could hear him, could hear everything, all at once. It was too much, still is too much. He just wants to burrow under some blankets, under a building. Burrow somewhere safe, preferably with some blankets fresh out of the clothes dryer. And some running water nearby to wash his food with, and a close source of food and-

Tommy whimpers, bringing his hands to his ears. They no longer sit at the side of his head, but on the top of it. They’re soft and round, Tommy spends a lot of time wondering what species he is. What type of hybrid he is.

When he asked Dream, the man just laughed. He said it wasn’t important, he’s a feral animal that needs to be tamed anyways. Tommy is inclined to believe him. He knows he has sharp claws and feet with pads at the bottom of them. And a tail. He doesn’t know what it looks like, just that it’s there and it’s painful and still growing.

He can trust Dream as the man smells safe, Tommy often lies to himself. The man smells of nothing. The scent of blood or dirt should follow the man, but it doesn’t. Dream doesn’t smell of anything, but Tommy can’t afford to be choosy about who is his family.

He misses Tubbo.

----

A child watches from the trees, a black liquid falling from his eyes like ink. Unlike Ghostbur, who looks the same as he did when he was living, just grey; or Glatt, who’s horns are now red in contrast with his blue jumper; the child looks nothing like when he was alive.

His eyes are black, as though they were made from the void. His skin is whiter than paper, and the blood flowing out of the corner of his lips stands out as though nothing else in the world was that saturated. His clothes are torn, green shirt greyed and bloodied from the brutal death he experienced. The grass seems to wilt beneath his feet, and his hair floats as though he was encased in water, rather than floating in air. He simultaneously looks older than he will ever age, and younger than most of the smp knew him. His body is small, shorter than it had been in life, but his face bared the marks of someone who has lived lifetimes.

Ghostbur promised revenge - that he would flood the world to save Tommy. He would rise the sea until Dream brings his little brother home. The, if water is not threat enough, lava would take its place. The young - too young, far too young - ghost can’t believe that the sweet man who held him as he cried would do that to a world.

Didn’t believe it, not until Glatt spoke to him. Told him what Ghostbur had done to worlds as Alivebur. Had raised lava and water and could have been a god, but chose to play war against Dream in this server.

The ghostly boy believes that much. He pretends to only remember good things, but he doesn’t. He remembers what Alivebur did to Tommy. What Technoblade did to him. What Wilbur and Techno would get away with doing to the two boys. What Phil and Dream and Techno did to his country.

He remembers Schlatt. He remembers everything. Every detail, every crime. He forgot what happy memories he made, leaving only despair and anger, and the need to protect Tommy.

He doesn’t remember his father anymore. 

He let himself become hardened.

[deliriousgeek]

She’s the Alpha (Owen Grady x Reader) .3

Masterlist:

Chapter 3:

Trying to Let Go

(Y/n) furiously scrubbed the plate. The suds were flying onto her clothes. (Y/n)'s hands started to become wrinkly as she continuously scrubbed away the nonexistent food crumbs. Her brows were knit together and a huff was kept on her lips.

"You'll scrub the plate away if you keep washing it like that."

(Y/n) stopped for a second and looked behind her shoulder. "Maybe if I scrub hard enough I can wash away dad's doubt of me being a intelligent adult."

Ian let a out snicker and made a sort of smirk of a smile. "Sure kid, that'll work." He stood with his arms folded.

Ian was the nearly the only person (Y/n) would rant to without a second thought. Not that she didn't trust anyone else to rant  to, but with Ian it was just entirely different.

"It's so irritating! I'm twenty-six." She slowly let the plate dip into the sudsy water. "He should trust me by now." (Y/n)'s entire form sank as she muttered the last sentence. Feelings were building up in her. Frustration, sadness, and anger.

"Hey, hey. C'mon. Don't think like that." Ian was instantly by (Y/n)'s side. He wrapped on of his arms around her now shaking frame.

"(N/n) I know you. You aren't one to let people in on emotions, but sweetie you have to do that now or else something bad is going to happen to you."

She let her head partly hang. "I know.."

"So what's getting to ya?" Ian stepped away and let (Y/n) have her space.

"Well first off, my dad. I know that he still has PTSD and he gets worried, but he has to understand that I make my own choices. Even if those choices are scary. Second, doesn't he know that I understand the importance of safety? I could honestly walk outside and get hit by a car. Crossing the street is just as dangerous as working with the living version of the fossils  that I work with every day." (Y/n) shook her head and brought her hands to her temple to rub it. "Uncle Ian, I just want to work. I just want this experience." She let out a sigh.

Ian nodded and put his hand on (Y/n)'s forearm. "I know you do. You're head strong in anything you put your mind to," He sighed. "Okay. Here's what your going to do. Later, when everyone leaves and it's just you and your dad, because we both know he'll stay a little later than us, talk to him. Work this out with each other because you both need to."

(Y/n) looked at Ian with understanding in her eyes. She knew she had to talk to her dad. "Okay."

Ian gave her a tight squeeze. "Okay, I'm gonna bring out the dessert." He said as he headed towards the refrigerator.

The last of the guests that trickled out said their Good night's and Good bye's, which left (Y/n) and her father sitting on the couches of the living room. Alan was the last to leave as he still needed to clear the air with his daughter. (Y/n) sat in the love seat diagonal to the couch, her legs tucked under each other making her sit at an angle with her right arm draped over her folded legs. Alan sat on the couch diagonal to the love seat; his arms rest in his legs; his hands folded and his face resting atop. Both of the Grant's were silent, contemplating what to say to fill the silence and end the argument air.

"Dad." "(Y/n)." They spoke at the same time.

"You go first." They said in unison, cautiously glancing at each other. Smiles broke onto both of their faces at the impish replies. They chuckled.

"You go first dad." (Y/n) gave a content smile. At least they could laugh together.

"Okay uh," Alan straightened up and rubbed the back his neck. He raised his head and looked at (Y/n). "Sunshine you know I want what's best for you. You're, you're my little girl. You know I can't help it. I've been on those islands before. Those islands are true to their Spanish names. (Y/n) if something happens to you on those islands I," He looked down and leaned on his knees again. "I'd blame myself for everything."

(Y/n) let out a sigh. This is going to hurt more than I thought. "Listen dad. I know I'm your Sunshine, I'm always going to be your Sunshine; but this is something I need to do. You went to those islands to better your knowledge of these magnificent creatures that once walked the earth. Now it's my turn. I mean, they're alive and well! They're behind cages," She hated to use that word. "built by the best technologically advanced companies. There's slim chances that something will go wrong."

Alan looked his daughter dead in the eyes. He was proud. He was distraught. He was going to let her go. "(N/n), I can't believe I'm saying this. I want you to go-"

"Really?" (Y/n) exclaimed.

"-I'm not finished." Alan cut her off.

(Y/n) nodded.

"I want you to go because you need this. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I know that you will be persistent. Go. Go do your job." He smiled.

"Thank you." (Y/n) stood up and hugged her father.

"I'm gonna head home, it's getting late."

(Y/n) nodded and escorted her dad to the door.

"Good night Sunshine," Alan gave (Y/n) a peck on the forehead. "Get some rest."

(Y/n) timidly smiled. "You too dad, good night." She slowly shut the door. With light steps (Y/n) padded to the window next to the door and slightly moved the curtain with her pointer finger to ensure her dad got into his car safely and headed home. When the car started and he backed out of the drive way (Y/n) sighed and moved from the window.

She placed a hand on her forehead, and the other on her hip. A sigh escaped her lips as the hand that rested on her forehead slid down her face. Determination settled into her eyes and she set her course to the office. Opening the door she flicked on the light. With a plop onto the chair (Y/n) opened her journal and took a glance at the letter before  setting it aside; immediately typing a letter of reply to the Masrani Corporation.

The next morning (Y/n) woke with a stretch. The sun brightly spewed into her room through the white chiffon curtains of her bay window on to her and her bed covers. It gave the room a majestic glow. Lying on her side with an arm stretched out above her head and one arm tucked away at her side, (Y/n) was startled to hear a chime from her phone. (Y/n) rolled over and reached to unplug her phone from its charger. Unlocking the piece of technology she was alerted that she received an email.

The email read:

Dear Miss (Y/n) Grant,

We thank you very much for your cooperation and immediate response to the previous email. In the next five business days you will receive a boat ticket from InGen to exclusively travel on one of the first voyages of the Jurassic World Isla Nublar Ferry. Once  you have received your ticket further instructions will be within the envelope. Your traveling duration will be three days once you arrive in Costa Rica. All together your travel time will be seventy-six hours including your flight time. Thank you for your consideration in endorsing our park.

Many Thanks,

Simon Masrani

CEO, Masrani Global Corporation

(Y/n) looked out the window and grimaced at the bright sunlight. Here goes nothing.