#basically what I'm saying is that she was probably living a few months in her sister's shoes without realizing it

[smolstarthief]

So has one ever reached a horrifying realization that Sumire technically got a glimpse of how Kasumi probably felt with her own peers? Especially the expectations and high praise towards her which made her seem perfect but probably got the same mistreatment from others like at Shujin but hid it all with a smile? 'Cause I just did the more I started to analyze the real Kasumi from what we do know.

[kitchensinksurrealism]

thumbnail that says "staying in my band until I feel appreciated" and the video is 3 years long

[cherrygirlfriend]

─ FIRST LOVE THEORY ♥︎

...or rafe reuniting with his ex-wife.

♥︎ pairing .ᐟ ex-husband!rafe x married!reader

♥︎ summary .ᐟ reader goes over to her ex-husband's house when she finds out he introduced their son to his new girlfriend. rafe has a better idea for what they could do instead of arguing.

♥︎ warnings/tags .ᐟ smut! MDNI. cheating, unprotected piv, breeding kink. wc: 2.7k

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ first fic on my 3k celebration!!! i hope you guys like it <3 i have to wake up in six hours… 😭

3K MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

there's a theory that claims that men never get over their first love; that they're always going to be thinking about her, dream of her, mumbling her name in their sleep...

and if you wanted to prove said theory wrong, rafe cameron was the wrong person to go to; no matter what the occasion was, he would abandon it all for her if she called; anything for his first love.

you had been dating rafe since sophomore year of high school, starting to go out just days after you moved to the island. your family lived in a small, run-down house on the so-dubbed poor side of the island. even if your family couldn't afford much, they put all the money they had just so you could attend kildare academy.

when you started dating and he finally introduced you to his friends, you could see it in the eyes of every one of rafe's friends; they all looked down on you simply because you didn't come from money. one time while you'd been at a party rafe was hosting, you could hear his friends whisper about you, talking shit. saying how he was probably just dating you because you let him fuck you whenever, or how he pitied you.

that was the first time you two broke up; and a few days after, rafe came knocking at your door with a bouquet of flowers and a well-practiced apology prepared.

after that? you two pretty much became the most notorious on-and-off couple on the whole island. it was like every other week, you and rafe broke up, got back together, and broke up again. one moment, you'd be all over each other; the next moment, you were all over each other in a completely different way. the problem was, as you got older, your situation stayed the same.

you parked your car in front of the house rafe was living in; the bastard had gone and introduced the woman he was dating to your son without asking you, without even saying a word. you slammed your car door closed, your heeled knee-high boots clacking against the concrete.

"rafe!" you shouted, banging the side of your fist against the wooden door, the wreath hung up on the door shaking with the force of your punches "rafe fucking cameron, i need to talk to you!"

rafe pulled opened the door, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, "what the hell do you want now? child support not come through?" the man scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"why the fuck did you introduce some bitch to leo without mentioning it to me?" you pushed him, your ex-husband stumbling backwards, "do you have no common sense? i told you, i don't want you to introduce any of your sluts to him before asking me first."

"you introduced your damn boyfriend to him when i told you not to!"

"rafe, i've told you a million times, will is not my boyfriend; we've been married for a year." you let out an annoyed scoff, "and that's completely different. you told me not to introduce him to a guy i had been with for a year and was getting engaged to, meanwhile i'm telling you not to introduce him to your third girlfriend of the month."

"can you shut the hell up? i'm not some fucking town bicycle." you followed rafe into the living room, watching as your ex-husband poured whiskey into a glass. you watch as he downs the glass, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, continuing to pour more amber liquid into the glass, turning to you, "i'll have you know, sofia and i have been exclusive for three months now."

"well, that's basically as good as marriage when it comes to you." you let out a small scoff, "i don't want you to introduce our son to anyone i don't know, rafe." you grabbed the glass of whiskey from him, downing the liquid, burning as it went down your throat. you slammed the glass onto the tray, pointing a manicured nail at him, your engagement ring and wedding band glimmering under the light. "don't fuck with me. not when it comes to him."

"you're so fuckin' selfish." rafe scoffs, throwing his hands in the air "he's my son too, you have no right to tell me what i can and can't do!"

"i've got a custody agreement that says i do." you narrow your eyes, poking him in the chest, "if you do shit like that again, i'm calling my lawyer."

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe shook his head in disbelief, a bitter laugh leaving his lips as he brought his face closer to yours, gritting his teeth, "you're gonna try and change our custody agreement because of this? there's no way you're that much of a vindictive bitch."

"you really must not know me," you scoff as you look up at him, your eyes narrowed and your voice low, "because if you did, you'd know that that's exactly how much of a vindictive bitch i am." you stared into each other's eyes, your heavy breaths mingling together. rafe's jaw was clenched, his steely eyes focused on nothing but you.

his lips crashed against yours.

his hands were in your hair, tangled in the strands, tugging on them only to bring you closer to him; his lips were devouring you, a clash of lips, teeth, tongue; and even though you tried to pull away at first, it was like every time he got his hands on you, you melted. every time rafe kissed you, it felt like you were clay and he was molding you into yourself.

your back hit the solid wall behind you, and rafe let out a slight groan when his hands wrapped around under your thighs, and you hopped into his arms, your hands around the back of his neck as rafe held you against the wall. his hands trailed up to cup your ass, the hem of your skirt now all bunched up, your ex gripping the fat of your ass.

rafe carried you into the bedroom you used to share with him like you weighed nothing, dumping you onto the bed and causing your body to bounce on it slightly. grinning up at him, you took your dress off, the blonde looking at your body up and down, cocking his head to the side.

"you wore red?" rafe tsked, referring to the lingerie set you were wearing, a wine-red one, a color you knew rafe loved on you, having ruined many a set while you were together, "you should've just said you wanted to fuck."

you bit your lip when rafe finally took off his shirt, revealing a set of abs you'd caressed, kissed, licked, more times that you could count. his long fingers made work of his belt buckle, swiftly pulling his belt off. he snapped it once before throwing it to the side.

his pants were off, the outline of rafe's hard cock visible through his white calvin kleins. you rubbed your legs together, your nipples hard and straining against your bra. "you gonna come here, or do i need to come and getcha?"

rafe shook his head with a chuckle, and at his words, his body was on yours, grinding against you. a gasp left your lips as you felt his erection against your clothed cunt, and you could feel your arousal starting to form a wet patch in your lacy panties. his lips trailed down your jawline as his hands trailed down the strap of your bra, the man letting out a chuckle against your skin, the words he mumbled against your neck causing vibrations to run down your spine. "let's get this pesky thing off, huh?"

you arched your back off the bed, and rafe's long fingers darted to the clasp of your bra, swiftly unclasping it and throwing it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. within seconds, his lips were on your nipple, licking on the hard bud before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in a way that made you to arch into his touch, gasps of pure pleasure leaving your lips.

one of his hands slid into the waistband of your panties, bringing hid middle finger to your clit and pressing on it, making you mewl as your hand found his hair, tugging on it slightly. rafe groaned against your nipple, causing a wave of shivers to run down your spine as his finger lazily rolled around your clit.

"please..." you whined, and rafe let out a small chuckle against your nipple before releasing it with a pop!

his lips started to trail down your body, pressing kisses from between your breasts, down your belly button, continuing all the way until his lips made contact with the waistband of your panties.

"please what?" rafe asked as he started to press kisses on your panty-covered pussy, getting closer and closer to the wet little patch that was now decorating them.

"take them off..." you mewled, your hands grasping the sheets underneath you. rafe pressed a small kiss right over your clit, accompanying it with a teasing lick, before his long fingers finally tightened around the waistband of your panties.

"look at that." rafe huffed in a way that resembled a laugh, and as you looked down, you could see a large patch on the inside of your panties. you scrunched up your nose and looked away, making him let out another chuckle as you hid your face in your hands, "you're so cute when you're embarrassed, baby..." he cooed mockingly, throwing your panties to the side. "there's nothing to be embarrassed about. we both know you get soaked within seconds when it comes to me."

rafe licked a stripe up your slit, making sure to slightly suckle on your clit, a moan leaving your lips, your back arching off the bed you used to share with him. he moved himself up, until his face was over yours. when rafe placed a small, dazing kiss on your lips, you licked your lips, tasting yourself; he always loved doing that; always loved to make it known that only he could have such an effect on you.

the blonde grinned as he tugged his boxers down, gripping the shaft and moving his cock so the tip of it was pressing against your clit, drawing tiiiiny circles of it as if it was another 'funny' game he liked to play with you.

"come on...!" you whined, smacking his shoulders, "i need you..."

"what's wrong, sweetie?" rafe cooed mockingly, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes, "your husband not enough for you?"

your eyes flit to the engagement ring and the wedding band on your ring finger, but the feeling of rafe's cock drawing circles on your needy, throbbing clit, before they looked back into his blue eyes that were mostly overtaken by the black of his pupil.

"please..." you looked at him through your lashes, pouting at rafe. he let out a slight chuckle, moving his shaft down to your entrance, "this what you want?" he asked, pressing a peck on your lips that felt like he was ridiculing you; but your body didn't care; all it cared about was having him inside of it. now.

"yes..." you whispered, "please..."

you felt the mushroom tip of rafe's cock finally enter into you, and even that was enough for a small smile to twitch up your lips; you knew it was pathetic, you knew that this wasn't something you should be doing but "aaaaaaahhhh-" as he sunk his cock deeper into you, you couldn't resist.

and before you were prepared for it, rafe had forced himself all the way into you, the tip of his cock hitting the sweet spot inside of you as you gasped for air, pressing your eyes closed in a way that brought tears to your eyes.

"tell me who you belong to..." he growled, his lips pressed against your neck as he pulled his cock almost entirely out of you, only leaving a tiny bit of it at your entrance.

"rafe..."

"tell me." rafe grabbed your thigh, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder so he could get even deeper inside of you, "tell me, who you belong to."

"i..." you whisper, your eyes fluttering open, eyelashes wet with tears, "i belong to you, rafe..."

and as he pistoned his cock into you, you couldn't help but throw your head back, your eyes closed, the tears stuck to your lashes ruining your eye makeup.

when rafe's hand slowly made it's way to your pussy, you could tell that he was close; your ex was a sucker for having you both come at the same time. rafe started drawing lazy circles on your clit as he continued to plunge his cock in and out of you, hitting you right where you needed him, and that combined with his thumb on your clit was making the pressure in your abdomen grow, and grow, and grow...

"i'm gonna fuck another baby into you..." rafe mumbled into your ear, "always wanted a big family..." his thrusts grew quicker to the point that you were having a difficult time keeping up with him, "gonna give you a second baby..." his thumb's pace on your clit quickened, "tell me you want it... c'mon, baby..."

your brain wanted to tell him no, but it was as if your heart and your body were in control, every inch of them screaming out the answer that left your lips.

"yes!" you screamed out, "yes, rafe, yes!"

you could feel your cunt clenching around him, moaning out rafe's name as your orgasm washed over you, every part of your body blissed out, until a sense of clarity hit you, and although you tried to shove rafe off you, you couldn't do so, feeling as warm ropes of his thick cum started painting the walls of your slick cunt white.

as rafe got down off his high, he let out a small chuckle as he pulled his cock out of you, the slightly pinkening inches of him soaked in a white mixture of you and him, only for him to shove the cum that was dripping out of you back into you, making you let out another gasp.

rafe laughed as he pulled his fingers out of your hole, bringing them to your mouth. "taste." and you knew; it wasn't a request, it was a command. and so you did.

some moments went by and you were nuzzled in rafe's arms, the both of you content and satisfied as you laid under the blankets, rafe smelling the raspberry-scented shampoo you always wore with a smile on his face; he hoped that your scent would linger; your shampoo, body wash, perfume; he hoped it'd all just... be there, in his bedsheets, forever.

you took the picture frame off the nightstand, and you saw exactly what you were expecting; a picture of you and rafe kissing only moments after you said i do; rafe in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo and you in your custom vera wang wedding dress, your ex-husband having told you that you didn't only deserve the best; you needed it. as you traced the hem of your wedding dress, rafe let out a chuckle, and you couldn't help but turn to him with your brows furrowed, "what?"

"it's just..." rafe brought his hand to rest over yours, his finger right where yours was, trailing your hem, "this kind of reminds me of how i bunched up this dress around your waist a little bit before the wedding..." his icy blue eyes turned to you, "and how i did the same with your most recent wedding dress, and fucked you. what was it you wore to your wedding with will?" he pretended to ponder, "valentino?"

you looked up at him your eyes narrowing, "you can never tell him this happened."

"don't worry, baby." rafe's hand detached from the frame as he cooed mockingly, going to trace your cheekbone with his long, ringed fingers, "i'm sure he can figure it out when your baby ends up looking nothing like him."

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ thinking of writing a fic about rafe and reader on her wedding day... lmk if you want that.

[teaspacebar]

spiced chai

part two

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit. 

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?” 

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again. 

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head. 

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain. 

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago! 

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge  Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?” 

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth. 

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!” 

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register. 

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.” 

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!” 

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron. 

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal. 

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.” 

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!” 

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous. 

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips. 

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

 A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns. 

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick. 

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor. 

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?” 

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Pairing: Russell Shaw xf!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  The last thing that you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him. Reader is the niece of Velma and Teddi!

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just in case I missed anything. Blood, Cleaning Out A Wound, Mentions of Allergies? Gunshots, Some Cursing, A Bit of Sexual Innuendo, Sexual fantasy/reader has active imagination, Self-deprecating Thoughts/Body Issues (reader), Mentions of Infidelity, Reader Is A Single Mom, Appearance Of Creepy-Jerk Ex Husband, Probably a Poor Description Of What It’s Like To Be A Single Mom (I tried my best, please I do not mean to offend anyone❤️), Russell Shaw might be a little bit OOC. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy."

Song Inspiration: Long As I Can See The Light By Creedence Clearwater Revival

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! This is my first time writing for Russell Shaw, so, please be gentle. 😅

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

A/N: I finally watched Tracker… Could you tell? 😂

Sunday nights, in your opinion, were the worst.

It was like the last few moments of freedom before you were thrust into a busy work week, like the last few rays of light before the coming darkness that you barely survived with copious amounts of coffee and bloodied fingertips. Monday always loomed, but never as much as on Sunday nights.

The dull thud of your phone vibrating against your wooden bedside table grates on your ears and pulls you from the sweet precipice of sleep before you can fall into the void.

It felt as if you’d just collapsed into your bed and one look at the alarm clock on your bedside table as you blinked your bleary eyes confirmed it. It was 3:58 am, which meant you had been in bed for exactly three minutes.

You were still covered in chocolate cupcake batter, pink frosting, and rainbow sprinkles from the last six hours you'd spent in the kitchen making gluten free, sugar free, and peanut free cupcakes for a bake sale at your son’s school.

Even though you hadn't volunteered Stephanie Jacobson, or rather the wicked witch of the PTA, had cornered you in the pick-up line on Friday afternoon to remind you of your "duties as a parent" and the coming bake sale to support the building of the new gym. And then she’d handed you a list of student allergies and asked you to create something that was safe for everyone.

Taste be damned.

Why the school needed a new gym you didn't know, but the guilt that rose when Stephanie mentioned your "duties as a parent" was enough to make you say yes to whatever she asked you.

You had enough guilt already about raising your kids without a stable father figure, and the last thing you needed was guilt from a stuck up bitch in the PTA.

Stephanie reminded you of the girls in high school that used to pick at their food, the ones that knew exactly what to say to make you feel like a freak, the ones who dated the football players and spent their Friday nights wearing cheerleading uniforms and waving pom poms, and the ones who basically made everyone else's life a living hell.

Everything about her screamed superior. The flawless way she curled her perfect platinum blonde hair, the stylish clothes she wore than never seemed to have a wrinkle or a mashed carrot smeared on the pants, the supple breasts that she swore were real, a perfectly toned stomach that never seemed to change despite her having a child two months ago, and the easy way she handled all of her three children with a flourish of her left hand that housed a 6 karat diamond ring from her gorgeous husband that was so attentive, perfect, and rich that it made you feel sick to your stomach.

All of which anyone could read on her mommy blog that she'd dubbed "Little Mistakes Make Perfect Lessons," and the same blog that she'd created an empire from.

Fuck, you hated her.

Mostly because despite everything you tried you never had enough time in the day to look as flawless as she did.

Your hair never seemed to be as bouncy or perfectly styled, you never had time to put makeup on, you always had mashed carrot on your pants or some form of cheerio or baby food, as many times as you tried to carve out time for the gym you never seemed to make it, the small ring you'd once wore on your finger was sitting idle in your jewelry box upstairs where it had been for the past year after your husband of six years told you that he met someone else, and your stomach and your breasts… you didn't want to think about that right now.

You had two kids and you weren't going to pretend that it did nothing to your body, any part of your body. And as many times as you saw all the other mothers around you who were proud of the way they looked, you never had their confidence, especially not after the comments that your ex-husband had made each time the two of you finally had some time to be alone together.

But that wasn't to say you hated being a mom, you loved it, wouldn't change it for the world. It was just sometimes you wished you had a little help, that, and you wished that Mondays didn't exist. 

You groan as you reach for the phone that still vibrates desperately on your bedside table and flip it over to see who's calling before you answer it.

"Colter, why the hell are you calling me at four am?" You half moan, pulling the comforter up over your head as if that'll make Monday go away.

You'd been close to murder several times, first when you found your husband in your bed with his nineteen year-old secretary, second when your local coffee shop was out of espresso and you did your entire shift at the hospital with no coffee, and Colter Shaw waking you up at almost four in the morning was quickly becoming number three.

"Because I didn't want to wake up Emma or Luke. Can you open the door?" He replies, stating the names of your children, sounding slightly out of breath.

"What door?" You groan again, eyes still shut wishing that this was just a bad dream and Colter wasn't calling you because he needed your help… again.

"The front door. Please, I need you to let me in."

"Why are you here? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Did you try to call Teddi or Vel-"

"I'll explain when you come open the door."

"By doing that I'd have to get up."

"Please."

You hesitate. Colter didn't usually say please, let alone twice whenever he showed up needing your help.

You'd met him by accident.

Sure your Aunt Teddi had talked about the "rewardist" that she and your Aunt Velma worked with, but you hadn't been expecting to ever meet him. But when Colter got shot on a job and showed up at Teddi and Velma's home you'd helped patch him up. You'd been there picking up your six year old son Luke and your three year old daughter Emma, after work. Teddi and Velma watched them for you when your deadbeat ex Lance couldn't be bothered to give you the support you needed.

Which was all the time despite his continuous arguing that he was in their lives enough and if anything it was your fault that he didn't have more time with them.

Each time he said that it made you want to slam his head in the door of his brand new bright red BMW, the one he'd bought right after you found him in your bedroom plowing his secretary now girlfriend Crystal. Or as you liked to remember her, the girl who still believed that Santa Clause existed and that the U.S government was hiding him from the world.

But Colter had been hurt and it was just fate that you were there at your aunts home to pick up your kids.

Being an ER nurse meant that you knew how to patch Colter up and it wasn't long before he went on his way. That was about four months ago and since then you'd talked to him occasionally when he'd pop by at your aunts home or just to see if you could help him with something.

"Five minutes." You sigh.

This time you crawl out of bed, standing just to the side of it for a second shaking your head to clear the sleep, and grab the long sleeved blue colored duster/robe that was hanging on the back of your bedroom door. Navigating your way down the stairs in the dark as quietly as you can, while half asleep was difficult, but somehow you avoid falling to your death.

Unfortunate, because now you have to go see what Colter wants at freaking 4 am.

The second story home had been you ex-husband's idea, stated that the two of you needed "room to grow" and that the two of you were "investing in your future."

You frown at the thought.

Yeah, room to grow right into your fucking secretary.

As if you needed another blow to your self esteem, but looking at the skinny red-haired goddess that he'd traded you in for that was about as dumb as a rock had been enough to send you so low you might as well be navigating the Marianas Trench in a submarine with a Megalodon chasing after you.

Maybe that means I'd get to be with Jason Stratham.

That thought was welcome. Honestly the thought of any man was a comfort, especially in the dry spell you'd been having since -well- since you'd had Emma three years ago.

Not gonna think about that right now.

The smell of chocolate cupcakes hung heavy in the air as you crossed through the messy living room, wafting out through the open concept kitchen into the space. One look into the kitchen would show enough cupcakes to make anyone salivate, and yes maybe you'd eaten a few before going up to bed, but eating the chocolate didn't count if it was on Sunday night and you could always go to the gym tomorrow…

Yeah. Like that'll happen.

You open the front door. "Alright, somebody better be dying Colter or I swear that I'll-" You stop mid-sentence when you take in the scene on your porch.

Colter is standing there, looking worse for wear. His usual black jacket is gone, he's got a black eye and a scrape along one of his perfect cheekbones, but that's not who you're looking at.

Colter isn't alone.

There's a man leaning heavily on Colter, his muscular right arm is thrown across Colter's shoulders and due to the fact that the man is a little bigger than Colter, he's buckling slightly under his weight. The man is wearing a green army jacket that is soaked around his left shoulder in blood, his dark hair is falling long into his bearded face, and his skin is a few shades paler than it should be. But that doesn't make him any less handsome.

The man still manages to throw you a sly grin, brilliant green eyes shining beneath the strands of his dark hair. "I think you got your wish sweetheart."

"You're not dying Russell." Colter sighs as if he's annoyed. "Hi." He directs at you.

You do feel a little bit bad about saying that now, but you shake it off.

"What the hell happened?" You say as loud as you dare and pull the front door further open so Colter can drag the man, now named "Russell" into your home.

"Shoot out." Colter breathes. "Where do you want him?"

"Kitchen table." You say trying to reach for Russell's left arm to help Colter, but he groans low under his breath and you retract your hand.

"You've got to be a little gentle with me sweetheart." Russell laughs more to himself, but it comes out in a choked sound. "But you can have me wherever you want."

"Colter, he needs to go to the hospital." You say, following behind them, keeping your voice down. "I don't think that I can-"

"Can't, they'll report it. They have to report all gunshots, you know that." Colter grunts, helping Russell lay back on the large kitchen table. "Why are there so many cupcakes in here?"

"Bake sale at Luke’s school." You clip while waving a hand and looking down at Russell who is laying on the kitchen table.

You can't deny that he's attractive, even in this condition. Russell has the perfect ruggedly handsome features that would make the smartest girl stupid and combined with the piercing green eyes that shine beneath the hair that's fallen forward into his face, even you could see yourself being susceptible to his charm.

Fuck.

Deep down you know that Colter is right, that if he did go to the hospital they'd be required to report it and that meant police and an official report. You figured that it was the last thing that Colter wanted.

Then again the guy has so many marks on his record already. You eye the man on your kitchen table. Russell kinda looks like he would have a few marks too.

"Don't want who did this to find him." Colter clarifies.

"So instead you brought him to my house where my children are?" You cross your arms over your chest.

The fear that whatever Colter and Russell had stumbled upon following behind them to your home made a cold trickle of fear race down your spine.

"We weren't followed." Colter soothes. "I promise I'd never do that to you. And I've got Bobby doing a trace to make sure they don't come close."

He actually looks a little hurt that you'd think that of him. Colter was a lot of things, but uncaring was not one of them.

You relax, but don't apologize despite the guilt swimming in your gut. "Fine. Give me a second." You leave the room to find the first aid kit in the hall closet, the same one that you'd made for your aunts to keep at their house if Colter showed up in the middle of the night with this exact problem. You'd even been involved enough to show your aunts how to deal with a gunshot wound if you weren't there.

When you get back in the room, Colter is removing Russell's jacket, and Russell grits his teeth when it jostles his left arm.

You set down the kit and reach for the bottom of Russell's shirt to pull it up off him, and he chuckles.

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink first? Better yet we could have a few bottles of my home brew-"

"She's not going to help you, if you annoy her." Colter interrupts.

"I told you that I didn't need anyone's help, I'm perfectly fine- ow!" Russell exclaims when you accidentally yank the shirt over his left arm. "Your bedside manner is a little lacking." He grunts, but his eyes still twinkle with humor.

"Too bad. I'm tired and I've been making chocolate cupcakes for the past six hours, so you get what you get and you don't throw a fit."

"What?" Russell grins at the rhyme that you often tell your children.

You shake your head, and drop your eyes to his chest. There are two perfect circles on his right upper pectoral muscle, but not high enough to reach the collarbone and one in his left bicep where blood seeps around the bullets, but truthfully you're trying not to notice how perfectly muscular he is. There are dark splashes of tattoos against his skin, swirling around other scars that resemble slashes and bullet wounds that you wish to drag your fingertips across to study each mark, to memorize each one beneath the soft pads of your fingers.

How is he just as beautiful covered in blood?

You clear your throat to focus back at the task at hand, examining the current wounds. "Okay. The good news is that the one on your arm is through and through, but these two," Your hand hovers over the two on his right upper chest. "I've got to extract the bullets. Which means that this is going to hurt."

"Been through worse sweetheart."

Your eyes scan the rest of his scarred muscular chest thoughtfully. "Yeah, you have." You murmur it more to yourself than to Russell, but he still grins.

Colter's phone rings shrilly in the kitchen and he groans. "One second. Try not to make her want to kill you Rus."

"No promises little bro."

Oh, so this is Colter's brother.

You'd heard little bits and pieces about Colter's brother, mostly second hand from your Aunt Velma. One of the best things about going over to Teddi and her home was sitting in the living room and hearing Velma gossip about everything she heard from Teddi while drinking wine and eating fancy cheese that you could never afford.

Russell Shaw was no exception.

"Alone at last." Russell says with a wink. "I didn't think he'd ever leave."

"I'm going to get some water to clean these with." You reply, ignoring him, but when you turn away the end of your mouth quirks up into a smile.

He wasn't what you were expecting based on all the rumors that you'd heard from both of your aunts, in fact, you thought he was kind of charming.

You roll up your sleeves and wash your hands before turning back to Russell. He's sitting up on your kitchen table, hands braced on his sides, with his legs spread wide apart. He doesn’t look like someone with three gunshot wounds, and you wonder if this is a regular day for him. Colter certainly didn't get shot that much.

"So are you a rewardist too?" You ask standing between his legs and trying not to focus on the warmth of his breath against your collar bone.

"Naw. I work for a private security contractor." He breezes.

"Oh." You swallow, looking up into his green eyes for a minute. They're even more beautiful up close, green with flecks of gold around the iris that flicker in the light like stars. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"You don't gotta ask me that sweetheart, the answer will always be yes."

You flush and brace your hand on his left shoulder, before pouring water into the two wounds on the right side of his chest, trying to clean them the best you can before you extract what's left of the bullets. His skin is warm and smooth beneath the palm of your hand and it's difficult to focus.

Just pretend you're in the hospital and you're treating a patient. You take in a shallow breath. He's just a patient and he's not that good looking.

You know you're lying to yourself, but you were trying your best. It probably didn’t help given the current dry spell you were in or the fact that he even smelled good. Something like gunpowder, leather, and a hint of something spicy that you bet was his shampoo. It prickled under your nose, and activated something in the back of your mind that was having a hard time being quiet. You hadn't been this close to a man you found attractive in a long time.

"Okay. This is going to hurt." You say as you look through the small medical kit that you'd grabbed from the hall closet for the tweezers, trying to calm the thudding of your heart.

"It's okay." Russell replies. "Do what you have to baby. I won't stop you."

You weren't prepared for the warmth that bloomed in the pit of your stomach when he called you baby in the wonderfully rough rumble of his voice.

A voice like that could convince me to jump into a pit filled with alligators with no regrets. Fuck. I'd bet that a voice like that could make me- FOCUS. I will focus. He is Colter's brother and he just got shot. He doesn't need you lusting over him.

Extracting the bullets is as painful for you as it is for him. Watching the way his face scrunches up in pain hurts you more than you thought it would. His hands grip the rim of the wooden kitchen table so hard that they're turning white, and Russell's jaw is clenched so tight that you're afraid that it's going to snap.

You squeeze his left shoulder to give him some comfort. "Almost done." You murmur, searching for the second bullet.

Russell lets out a breath when you finally fish out the other bullet and drop it into an empty cup with a resounding "ping" just as Colter walks back into the room looking worried.

"What?" Russell asks him, looking over your head at his brother.

"That was Bobby. He said that the trace we put on the phone just got a hit a few miles north of here." Colter states. "I'm gonna go check it out."

"Alright, I'll come with." Russell starts to get up, but you push him back with your right hand that you've still got pressed against his left shoulder. Difficult given the fact that he was almost twice the size of you and broader than anyone you'd ever seen. And also difficult because of the way you were trying to ignore how good it felt to feel the pull of his muscles beneath your hand.

"No. You still need stitches and I haven't finished patching you up." You clear your throat, but it still sounds a little hoarse.

"Baby as much as I like you ordering me around-“

"It's alright Russell, I've got this. Just stay here and let her take care of you." Colter interrupts.

Russell frowns at his younger brother. "I'm fine."

"You're not." Colter rolls his eyes. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up." He turns to look at you. "I'm sorry that we woke you up-"

"It's okay." You shrug. "But you owe me."

"Just add it to my bill." Colter smirks.

Honestly, you weren't as angry as you were when you answered the phone. Something about Russell was different and you didn’t mind helping him at all.

He wasn't like anyone that you had ever met, certainly not in the circles you ran with.

All the dads from your mom friends were blue and white collar workers who worked in the big office buildings downtown, wore suits to work and were more straight-laced, but there was something refreshing about Russell.

He was mysterious, sexy, and his had this aura of self-resilience and survival that you found immensely attractive. Especially when compared to your ex, who couldn't survive without his mocha-caramel double shot latte or wifi.

Russell was the exact opposite of him and you found yourself wanting to know more. More about the almost beautiful scars that curved over his muscular body, more about each tattoo that he’d chosen, and more about him.

He seemed like the kind of guy that hid his trauma under easy smiles and jokes, the kind of person that shrugged off anything that seemed remotely serious with a well placed joke, but you could feel that there was something deeper beneath that he didn’t allow many to see.

And you wanted him to show you.

You weren't sure where any of this was coming from. Russell probably was about as stable and consistent as his brother, and you liked consistency. Spontaneity and surprises tended to make you anxious. But not with Russell.

Though the stability might have been an issue. You were a single working mother, which meant that you didn't want to introduce some random guy into your children's life just to have them get attached and him to bail with no strings attached and-

Calm down. You just met the guy, it's not like he's asking you out on a date.

When Colter leaves and after you’ve cleaned around the wounds the best you can with some alcohol, you realize just how quiet it is in your kitchen.

“You know, I think I’ve seen you before.” Russell says breaking the silence while you search for a needle and thread in the medical kit.

“Really? Where?" You ask looking up.

“In my dreams.”

“Wow." You smile at him. "That line is pretty cheesy."

You shift your right hand over to begin to sew up the wounds on his chest. Russell doesn't even wince when you push the needle through, almost as if he didn't notice it at all.

It made sense, given how many scars and tattoos covered his body. You remember what he said about "being through worse" and it made you feel bad for him, to worry about him. Odd given the fact that the two of you had just met.

"Well I'm a little distracted at the moment sweetheart. It's not often that I get such a beautiful woman to take care of me."

"I thought you didn't need my help?" You smirk.

"Maybe I did." He admits sheepishly.

"Mhmm."

"So how do you know my brother?"

“Why?”

“Trying to see if you’re off limits or not.” Russell tilts his head to the side and flashes a charming smile.

You laugh at his boldness. You’d never met someone so upfront before, it was refreshing. Most of the men you’d meet occasionally at work tended to beat around the bush and made you want to give them a map to get to the point. "We met when he got shot a few months ago."

"Oh so the two of you aren't-" He wiggles his eyebrows and you snort.

"No."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I was just wondering why not?"

"What?"

"Well, you're gorgeous, you're smart, and you're not scared of blood or gunshots. Colter really seems to be dropping the ball."

"Colter doesn't exactly have a stable lifestyle. And I'm kind of complicated."

You were, there wasn't any way around it.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I've got two kids."

Russell blinks in surprise. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You hum continuing your task, not phased by the blood at all.

His eyes trace your figure for a minute, making a shiver travel down your spine. It was the first time in a long time that you were okay with someone looking at you like that and to be honest, the first time that you wanted someone to look at you like that in a while.

After everything that happened with your ex-husband and his secretary you were more inclined to sit on your couch with a glass of wine and read away your troubles with a steamy romance novel that did more for you than any of your ex-husband's attempts to satisfy you. It also didn't help that you had no interest in going out with your few friends and meeting someone at a club who probably would never call you again and probably wouldn't be as enthusiastic to learn that you were a mom.

You'd only been on one date since you'd broken it off with your husband with your aunts accountant Jerry, and the date stuttered to a halt when he learned you had two children and weren't interested in having an open relationship.

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

“Really? The mountain of chocolate cupcakes wasn’t a clue?” You arch an eyebrow with a smirk, while gently tying off the string to close the first wound before moving on to the second.

“I thought you just really liked baking. And I’m okay with coming home every night to a mountain of chocolate cupcakes if it means you’re there too.” He winks.

“Not sure you want any of those.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’re gluten free, sugar free, and nut free.”

The horrified look on Russell’s face makes you feel like you’d just told him that hot dogs do in fact contain trace amounts of dog.

“Why on earth would you make them like that?! They're not even cupcakes anymore!" He exclaims.

You found it funny that he seemed more upset over the mutilation of the chocolate cupcakes than over being shot.

Maybe he's always like this?

"I know. I'm a monster." You sigh. "But Stephanie Jacobson said I had to." You let out a frustrated sigh with her name.

Bringing anything other than what she asked for was a suicide mission. The last person who did that was Gale Smith in the great Fourth of July Cook-out calamity of 2021. In Gale's defense, no one though that the bushes would catch fire so fast, but Stephanie had a memory like an elephant so Gale decided to transfer her children to the school one town over. The last thing you wanted was for your name to go down in history for the Cupcake Catastrophe of 2024.

Russell leans forward and lowers his voice like it's a secret. “Is Stephanie your imaginary friend?”

“No!” You laugh. “She’s this other mom at my son’s school who said I wasn’t living up to my ‘duties as a parent’ and that I needed to ‘participate.’”

"She sounds great."

"Oh yeah, we're practically best friends." You continue to work on the other wounds in the silence that follows.

"I bet you're a good mom." Russell says watching you with an unreadable expression. He's leaning a little bit towards you still, making the smell gunmetal, leather, spice, and just a hint of mint come through the space between the two of you.

Damn he smells really good.

"Uh-huh. You've known me for ten minutes and you haven't seen me with my children-"

"I can tell."

"Is that your superpower or something?" You reach for a bandage to lay over the wound in his chest smiling to yourself. "All the other useful superpowers like being bulletproof got taken?"

"I don't think it's useless if it makes you smile like that when I say it, sweetheart."

Your eyes flick upwards to Russell's face. His green eyes are shining in the light of your kitchen, his dark hair still hanging over his forehead, and he is still just as ridiculously handsome as he was the moment Colter dragged him through your front door. You don’t remember why you were so mad at Colter anymore.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too smooth for your own good?" You raise your eyebrow.

"No ma'am." Russell cracks an even wider smile and it makes you loose all feeling in your legs. He was just so effortlessly handsome that it made you want to do something stupid, like have sex with him on top of the same kitchen table that you serve blueberry pancakes to your children.

"Hmm." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Well, now you know and maybe now that you're aware, it could prevent you from getting shot."

"Are you saying I got shot because I'm too smooth?"

"Maybe."

"Because usually it has a different effect."

"Huh. Well in that case, maybe try using some of that to smooth things over and you'd avoid getting shot." You begin to wrap another fresh bandage around the bullet wound on his arm, bracing your free hand against his chest, trying to ignore the way his skin is warm and chiseled beneath your palm.

He had the kind of body that you'd never imagined actually existed. Russell Shaw looked like he walked out one of the romance novels you loved so much.

Hell, they should use pictures of him to make the book covers.

"I'll remember that next time." Russell pauses. "But then it means I wouldn’t get shot and I wouldn't get to have you patch me up."

"I guess not."

You didn't think that you'd smiled as much as you had in the past twenty minutes with him than you had your entire five year marriage. Not to mention that it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't trying to convince you why they should be allowed to have a cookie before dinner.

A charged silence passes through the air between the two of you, his eyes locked on yours sending goosebumps over your skin. You weren't sure if anyone had ever looked at you like that before. You'd noticed that most gave you the obligatory skate over, but Russell didn't. He looked at you as if he was studying you as if he were genuinely curious to know more. 

Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, toned abdomen, and muscular arms, noting that he's the kind of strong and broad that was made to handle someone a little more curvy like you. And you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it more than once since Russell came through your front door.

You felt your mind sink into the fantasy of Russell pining you to the kitchen table and feeling the warmth of his rough hands against your body-

Snap out of it. The guy is bleeding, he got shot. He needs to rest.

"I think you'll survive." You smile pulling back from him to clear your head. It was much easier when you couldn't smell him as strongly. "And if Colter isn't going to be back for a few hours you can crash on the couch. It's not the most comfortable but-"

"I'm sure it's fine." Russell shrugs and stands from your kitchen table.

You try and fail to ignore how his muscles pull with the movement as he reaches for his shirt and you step forward to help him put it on, knowing that it might hurt with his injury. "Okay." You clear your throat, that has become thick all of a sudden. "And if you're hungry I've got plenty of cupcakes-"

"Please don't call them that. They're an disgrace to the cupcake name."

"Yeah, but the ones in the microwave are actually cupcakes. I had to make a few that were edible." You gesture with your hand and laugh at how quickly Russell goes to get one.

He doesn’t even bother to pull away the wrapping before he takes a bite and he audibly moans. Russell looks at you awestruck. "Holy shit, you made this? Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up." You roll your eyes at him.

"I'm serious, this cupcake is my reason to keep living. Here I thought putting sriracha on French fries was the height of cuisine, but damn."

You could feel yourself blush bright red at his compliment. You weren't used to a man going out of his way to compliment you on something other than how you looked, but everything about Russell Shaw was refreshing and nothing like you expected.

"Thank you." You wait another second, watching him eat more of the cupcake and smash icing and flecks of chocolate over his chin. You laugh at him and hand him a paper towel. "You're worse than my three year old."

"Your three year old is a lucky kid, if she’s got a mom like you to make stuff like this for her."

It's like he wants me to fall in love with him. How can someone look so unbelievably cute and sexy while covered in chocolate cupcake?

Don't answer that.

"Sometimes I think I'm the lucky one. I love my kids-" You say before you can stop yourself. You hesitate afraid that it would send Russell for the hills when you brought up the fact that you loved your children.

"Yeah?" Russell's smile brightens as he wipes his face with the napkin.

"Yeah." You blink mildly shocked. Of all the people in the world to talk about your children with, you never expected someone like Russell Shaw. “I do."

Again he was surprising you, and talking to him was just so refreshing and it made you feel like your head had finally cleared, like your chest was lighter and you could actually talk to someone for real without putting out this together image of yourself you thought you had to when inside you were crumbling from the overbearing expectations of the people around you.

The silence is back, filling the kitchen with a palpable energy that you wonder if Russell can feel, but you shake it off.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you Russell, but I'm sorry that you got shot." You smile.

"I'm not." Russell smiles. "I got to meet you."

"Alright Casanova, I need to go to bed, because my kids will wake me up in about two hours." You frown over at the couch. "There's a pillow and a blanket down the hall in the bathroom closet." You gesture with one hand. "I'll see you in the morning." You repeat because you're not too sure what to say.

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You turn and walk up the stairs to your bedroom, feeling the thin blue robe swishing around your ankles as you do.

And as you fall into your bed all you can think about as you start to drift is the ruggedly handsome man downstairs, with the brilliant green eyes that crinkle with his smile, and the large hands rough from hard work, that seems to be more than what meets the eye.

The alarm clock on your bedside table might as well be employed by the devil for waking you up and the idea of smashing it to bits with the heavy metal table lamp that sits beside it crosses your mind. You weren't sure how many hours you'd gotten in, only that they weren't enough, and you were in desperate need of coffee.

You roll over on your back, looking up at your ceiling as you blink your eyes open, following the familiar sweeps of the paint brush that were left behind.

The memory of the night's events come back in full color and you stiffen remembering exactly why you'd gone to bed so late. Images of last night flash through your mind. Colter dragging a bloodied Russell through your front door, Russell sitting on your kitchen table looking much too attractive covered in blood, him flirting with you with a wide smile that made you feel warm from the inside out…

Oh fuck he's still on my couch. How am I going to explain that to my kids?

You dress in a flash and stumble down the stairs as quickly as you can, tripping and falling into the living room, but when you look you realize that Russell isn't on the couch. The pillow and brightly colored quilted blanket he used are neatly folded on one of the plush cushions, but he's nowhere to be found.

I guess Colter came to get him.

You weren't expecting the wave of disappointment that comes with that realization, but as you turn to go back up the stairs to ready yourself for the day, you hear your daughter’s voice.

"Mommy!" She says. "Look! Rus is making pancakes."

What?

You turn to investigate your spacious kitchen. It was still covered in an alarming amount of cupcakes, but that’s not what’s surprising, what’s surprising is Russell, standing at your crowded stove with a spatula in his hand, sliding a perfectly golden brown pancake around in the bottom of a pan.

You blink your eyes to make sure that you’re not imagining it and make sure that you’re not asleep.

"Hey gorgeous." Russell flashes a wide grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Um-" You glance at where your daughter is sitting with your son, both eating stacks of pancakes at your kitchen table, the same kitchen table that you were fantasizing about Russell and you-

Nope. Not going there.

Honestly, any fantasy you had about him was blown away by the sight of him standing in your kitchen making pancakes for your children. Something so domestically wonderful that turned you on even more than the image of him shirtless sitting on your kitchen table.

This was something even your husband refused to do, cook. Any day that you tried to get him to, he'd said that it was your "job." And here Russell was standing in your kitchen looking even more effortlessly gorgeous cooking for your family without being asked.

"I sleep good. How did you sleep?" You ask taking a hesitant step towards him.

"Good. Better than I have in a bit actually." He turns back to the pan and flicks his wrist, flipping the pancake inside.

Emma claps happily and Luke watches Russell with a look of absolute awe on his face, while you try not to have impure thoughts about Russell in front of your children.

"You didn't have to make breakfast-"

"I did." He plates the pancake and holds it out to you. "I wanted to thank you for patching me up."

"It wasn't a big deal." You shrug, but take the pancake from the plate, rolling it up like a taco before you take a bite.

Russell cocks his head to the side studying you for a moment. "It was to me." His green eyes are just as hypnotic today as they were last night, tracing over your body in a way that makes pins and needles tickle over your skin. "Plus, wanted to make the kids something that wasn't gluten free, nut free, and sugar free. Emma sure can put away some pancakes."

It was odd to see someone so eager to make himself comfortable in your house, especially a man you barely knew and who you owed absolutely nothing to. Not to mention that Russell genuinely seemed happy to be making breakfast for your children as if he belonged there.

It was so different from every other man that you'd ever met, and you wanted to get used to it. You wanted to get used to having a man around again, to having Russell in your home and in your life. You'd never been spontaneous or wanted to jump headfirst without looking at the pros and cons, but watching Russell standing at your stove, with the sunlight coming through the windows behind him and illuminating his broad shoulders and sifting through his dark hair, you saw absolutely no downside.

"Yeah she's always had a good appetite."

"Hope she doesn't lose that. I hate it when women don't eat." Russell shrugs his shoulders and goes back to make a pancake for himself. "Plus Luke needs to bulk up. He said his dad is going to sign him up for baseball."

You stiffen at the mention of your ex, not sure if you should supply the information, or if you should let it slide. Russell's eyes flick down at your left hand for a half-second, so quickly you could have missed it, but you understood what he was doing.

"He's my ex-husband." You murmur low enough so only Russell could hear.

"Good." Russell replies with a knowing smirk. "Means that I don’t have any competition."

You roll your eyes at his reaction and walk over to where your children are eating. Luke is covered in maple syrup as per usual. He had always been a messy eater, but because he insisted on having his hair cropped short, it never seemed to be too much of a problem.

Just as Emma looks like your ex-husband, Lance, Luke looks like you. He has the same eyes and same colored hair, but he'd always been a little short for his age. Lance usually picked at him for that, but you didn't know what Lance was expecting, Luke was six years old, he'd grow!

"Good pancakes?" You ask, trying to wipe at his face with a napkin but he pulls away with an exclaimed "Mom!"

"What? You're covered in syrup." You laugh, raising the napkin again, but Luke dodges your hand.

"Mom!" Luke says again.

"Alright, fine. But go get dressed, your dad will be here to pick you up any minute." You say, urging him with a hand against his shoulder.

Today Lance was taking Luke to school and picking him up after for a baseball game, before staying with him at his apartment. You’d told your Aunt Teddi and your Aunt Velma that you'd help them plant a garden today, and Emma had been looking forward to it as much as you had.

Velma had been talking about it all through last week, and you’d gotten the day off specifically off for it. Emma was also excited about it because Teddi had bought flowers specifically for butterflies and your daughter loved them more than life itself.

You were looking forward to working out in the sun, feeling the healing rays against your skin, listening to the sounds of the world outside your aunts familiar home soothe you, play with the dogs for a little bit, and finally go inside for a few glasses of wine while Velma, Teddi, and you talked about the book of the month. Book club nights were especially special for Emma as well. Velma always poured Emma's apple juice into a plastic pink wine glass that she'd bought for Emma so she could feel included.

This book had been really good and you couldn't wait to share what you'd thought while eating expensive cheese and cupcakes and while the dogs circled below like raptors.

You loved being at their home. It was always such a comfort to be somewhere where you felt that you could be yourself especially after Lance left you. Your mother had died when you were a kid and your dad had never been equipped to handle things like that so your Aunt Teddi had picked up the slack in your early years and now after she'd married Velma, you had another person in your life who supported you and made you feel like you could be yourself. Both of them had been furious when they learned about what Lance had done and sat with you while you cried into a box of tissues.

It had been difficult to talk them both out of killing Lance. Surprising since your Aunt Teddi was usually the voice of reason.

Luke sighs, but listens to you, getting up from the table to make his way upstairs. You can hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway above and into his room.

Despite his reluctance, he was looking forward to today as well. Sometimes you thought that he felt left out when you all went over to your aunts house. You knew that Luke longed for the attention of his father, and something broke inside of you each time your ex-husband made him feel forgotten.

You turn to look at your daughter. "Good pancakes?"

"Yes!"

"Did you tell Russell thank you?"

"Thank you Rus!" She sing-songs with a wide smile, before moving her plastic fork back into the pile enthusiastically.

"You're welcome sweetheart." Russell says from the stove, picking up the pancake in the skillet bare handed before he puts a generous stripe of maple syrup along the inside and rolls it up just like you did. "Do you want another one?" His gaze turns to you, warm and open.

Fuck, why is he so damn attractive?

"No I'm-"

The knock on the front door interupts your answer signifying the arrival of Lance. When he'd moved out of the house you'd changed all the locks and then refused to give him a key. Something that he'd pouted and stomped about worse than your toddler, but you'd held firm. You didn't want him in your house and you definitely didn't want her in your house either.

"Daddy!" Emma squeals and before you can stop her, she leaps from her chair like she'd been shot from a cannon and runs down the front hallway to open the door for your ex.

You sigh out a breath to prepare yourself for what comes next. Talking to Lance was always tense and as much as you tried to be civil, Lance didn't. He didn't pull punches, and often lacked the common decency that everyone else had.

Russell's studying you again, his easy smile slipping into a frown when he notes the change in your attitude.

"Stay here. This shouldn't take long." You force a smile, but it lacks the enthusiasm you’d had whenever you talked to Russell before.

Sometimes just the thought of your ex took the energy out of you, as if you were on a space ship and all the air got sucked out into the cold silent vacuum.

Lance is standing on the front step hugging your daughter with one hand while the other holds his phone behind her head, his gaze intently on the screen while Emma chatters in his ear. He's not paying attention though. He never was and never did.

His black hair is slicked back over his head and cropped shorter than the last time you saw him. Now it barely touches his collar but hangs long over the top of his head. His brown eyes glint an amber in the light of the sun, and he’s wearing a tailored blue suit with a dark patterned tie.

“Hey.” Lance clips to you as he stands, releasing Emma who is still trying to talk to him, but he ignores her.

You grind your teeth together. “Hi.”

He sighs audibly sensing the tension, as if it’s you that’s done something wrong.

“Emma, why don’t you go finish your pancakes?” You smile down at your daughter and pat her on the head. “We’ve got to go soon.”

“Okay! Bye daddy!”

“That’s nice honey.” He says absentmindedly, still typing furiously on his phone, while Emma rushes back down the hallway and into the kitchen, that is hidden from view of the front door.

“You know you could put the phone down for once. The world won’t implode if you wait a few seconds to answer a text.” You say.

“Don’t start.” Lance rolls his eyes.

The BMW idling at the curb catches in the early morning sunlight and you see a flash of red-hair. Crystal is in the passenger seat, her auburn hair piled on top of her head effortlessly, her lips painted a dark colored red, there’s a pair of heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s wearing black dress low cut enough that her ample breasts spill out through the wide V.

She peers at you from where she sits in the car, her phone perched in her lap, and you watch her dark colored lips twitch into a knowing smirk when she catches you looking at her.

Each time you saw her was like taking a punch to the gut.  It made you pull your oversized sweater a little tighter over your chest self-consciously.

“I’m not starting anything. I’m just saying that you should pay more attention to-“ You begin, but Lance interrupts.

“I don’t want to do this with you. I have a deposition due today and I have to finish sending this email.” He snaps.

“Fine.” You sigh, trying to remain calm. You hated when he did this, when he made it seem like no one and nothing else was important except his job. “Luke is getting ready. I have to box up these cupcakes for a bake sale at the school. All you have to do is drop them off and tell-“

“Oh sorry babe. Can’t do the thing today.”

You bristled when he called you babe. You weren't his, not after everything the two of you had been through.

“What do you mean you can’t do the ‘thing’ today?” You plant your hands on your hips trying to comprehend what he's saying.

“With the kid. Sorry. Crystal made plans for us at some fancy restaurant or whatever. Supposed to be the best in the city-“

“What?”

“I can’t take the kid today.” He repeats slowly, this time looking up, but he doesn’t bother to apologize, and his gaze barely meets yours before he drops his eyes back to the hand clutched in his perfectly manicured fingers.

“But you promised Luke that you were going to take him to a baseball game today after school. That he was going to get to spend the night with you and-“

“Sorry.” The apology isn’t sincere and you know it, despite Lance’s attempts to drop his smile into a sympathetic frown. It comes across as more condescending.

Crystal honks the horn of the car as if to tell Lance to hurry up, and it takes a very large amount of effort for you not to flip her the bird.

“No. Luke has been looking forward to this all week! Not to mention I had to ask off for today specifically-“

“And I’ll apologize to him too.” Lance goes back to typing something on his phone. “This dinner means a lot to Crystal-“

“I don’t give two shits what means a lot to that red-haired bimbo!” You snap, the rage and frustration building in your chest. “You made a promise to your son to take him to a baseball game and actually spend time with him and that’s exactly what you’re going to do!”

Lance looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing. “You always fucking do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pick a fight.”

“I am not picking a fight Lance. All you’ve done since you’ve shown up here is ignore your daughter and tell me that you’re backing out of the one thing I’ve asked you to do in months!”

“I told you that I have a meeting and a deposition due today! Damn it, what do you want from me? To quit my big job that pays for this house?” He steps forward towering over you. Lance was taller than you, but he had always been lanky and thin, unable to gain too much weight or muscle at a time. “Why do you find the need to make me feel like my life isn’t important?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything about your life! I’m talking about our son’s life-“ You shout incredulous.

“This is exactly why I got out when I did. Because you always try to control every little thing. You’re so damn OCD that if I did one microscopic thing that wasn’t apart of your ‘special plans’ you’d spontaneously combust! You never just shut your big mouth and let me just fucking live my life! You never let me feel like a man! And Crystal understands-“

“Crystal can’t even understand that pickles were once cucumbers! I doubt she can understand whatever warped reality you’re living in Lance.” You spit. “But I’m sorry that me asking you to be a part of our children’s lives is too much for you. That it’s such a chore for you to make them happy.” The frustrated tears had begun to burn against your eyes.

You didn’t know why you expected anything different. Lance had been doing this since your son was born, putting his career above everything else, working late, schmoozing whoever he could, being so damn selfish that he was willing to throw everything the two of you built together for the woman sitting in the car on the curb watching the two of you go at it with a sick satisfaction.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Lance roars and this time he slams his hand against the door frame so roughly that the glass inside shakes and you flinch. “I don’t know why I even try to talk to you. So why don’t you get your big ass up those stairs and-“

“Is there a problem?” Russell’s voice interrupts whatever Lance was going to say, his body sliding into the space behind you so suddenly that you didn’t hear him walk up.

But it felt good for him to be there, to feel the warmth of his body through the air at your back.

He places his hand on the door to open it up a little wider and to seem a bit more intimidating. Russell is easily taller and broader than Lance.

Lance looks up at him confused, puffing out his chest to look more intimidating. “Who the fuck are you?”

 “Maybe you shouldn’t use that kind of language around the kids-“ Russell says with a tight lipped smile.

“They’re my fucking kids. Don’t tell me how to talk.” Lance’s gaze flicks to you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“I’m Russell.” He replies before you can. “And if you know what’s good for you I’d take a few steps back from her.” Russell’s large hand gently presses against your waist, a comforting weight that you weren’t expecting, but welcome, nonetheless.

It made you feel a little bit bolder.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lance snarls. “Is this your boyfriend? Really? You finally decided to go out with someone and that’s who you pick?”

“Look buddy, if you keep talking to her that way, we’re going to have a problem.” Russell sighs. “And I don’t want to get any blood on your fancy suit.”

“I’m not your buddy. And trust me she’s not worth the fight.” Lance sneers at you, giving you a once over that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Russell’s jaw clenches tight and he takes a step forward, but you hold out your arm to stop him.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was, it’s none of your business who I date!” You snap back.

Lance only shakes his head, ignoring what you’ve said. “I’m serious pal you don’t want to get involved with her. She’s fucking crazy, not to mention nothing special when it comes to se-“

The next words are lost in the sound of Russell’s fist landing against Lance’s face, the sharp crack followed by the inhuman scream of Crystal at the car. Lance stumbles back off the front step clutching a hand to his face while blood streams through his pinched fingers and over his chin.

“I warned you. Now if you keep talking, I'll make your eyes match.” Russell growls, flexing his hand.

I hope he didn’t rip his stitches.

“You son of a bitch.” Lance sputters, his hand still holding his broken nose. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“It’s worth it, if it shuts you up.” He replies unfazed.

Lance’s eyes narrow with hate as he looks at you one more time, before stumbling back to his car where Crystal has begun to wail over the amount of blood coming from his nose. The car squeals down the street and out of sight, leaving Russell and you standing on your front porch. Thankfully Emma was still in the kitchen eating her pancakes and Luke was upstairs, you didn't want either of them to see Russell punch their dad.

But that didn't mean that you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

You groaned when you thought about your son. You didn’t know how on earth you were going to explain to him why his dad wasn’t going to pick him up or take him to the game.

But at the same time there was a sickening amount of pleasure that bubbled beneath the surface at the thought of Russell breaking Lance’s nose.

“Are you okay?” Russell asks turning to look at you. There’s anger still simmering beneath the surface. You’d never seen him angry in all the time he’d stayed with you. All you’d seen was the funny, easy going, guy with the gorgeous smile, but to see him like this and especially to see him angry over what had just happened…

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive.

“Yeah. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize for that asshole. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Russell hesitates. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn, should have knocked a few teeth out too. He’s got to learn how to speak to a lady, especially one as beautiful as you.”

You felt your cheeks flush. You couldn’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful and before you can stop yourself you say:

“I don’t think you’re too bad looking yourself.”

“Oh I know. You couldn’t keep your hands off me last night.” Russell’s grin makes you smile and roll your eyes at him.

Again you’re struck by how charming he is and how kind. He didn’t have to do any of the things he’d done today, but he did anyway. He didn’t have to make breakfast for your children, he didn’t have to step in when your ex-husband got mouthy, and he didn’t have to punch Lance in the face, but Russell had.

He'd done more for you in the past few hours than your husband had done in the six years you'd been married to him.

Behind where Russell's standing, Colter’s truck pulls up to idle on the curb in the same place that the BMW had been sitting moments ago, and you raise a hand in a half-wave to greet him. Colter shoots you a grin and waves back.

“Guess my ride’s here.” Russell says glancing back at his brother over his shoulder before he looks back at you.

“Seems so.” You nod. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check your stitches for you one more time before you go? I mean you probably ripped them when you punched Lance."

“Sounds like you just want to catch another peak of me without my shirt on.” Russell laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and hit him on the arm.

“Ow.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Maybe.” He’s studying you again, the sunlight turning his hair a honeyed brown and his eyes into a sharp jade. The light catches his broad shoulders and traces along his strong jaw that is covered in a healthy amount of stubble that makes him look rugged and more handsome than any man you’d ever met.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “It was nice to meet you Russell. And again, I'm sorry that you got shot."

Russell shrugs. “It was worth it. I got to meet you and I got to punch that asshole in the face so win-win.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“Yes, I did.” Russell’s jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve any of the things he was saying about you or about the kids.”

“True.” You hesitate.

Should I ask him for his number or is that too forward?

“I’ll see you around.” Russell smiles at you one more time before making his way to his brother’s car, just as Emma joins you on the front step.

“Did daddy leave?” She sounds sad.

“Yeah. He did.” You take her small hand in yours.

“But why does Russell have to go too?” She whines.

“Because he’s going home.”

You felt a twinge in your chest watching him get into the car, knowing that you probably would never see him ever again. It made you sad to know that. You'd been interested in him and you thought he was interested in you, but he hadn't asked for your number.

Maybe he's flirty and charming with everyone.

You hide the frown that comes with that thought. Emma waves goodbye with her freehand, and Russell smiles from the passenger seat, waving back at your daughter, before he raises his gaze to yours again and winks.

Or maybe not.

When you go back inside the house, Luke is still upstairs, and instead of going up to tell him about his father, you turn to go back into your kitchen to clean up. As you near the stove, you notice a bright green piece of paper under one of the magnets on your refrigerator, fluttering slightly in the air-conditioning.

You pull it down to look.

In case you want some more pancakes or if you bake any more of those life changing cupcakes. Give me a call. -Russell.

His phone number was written under his name, next to a smiley face that made you laugh aloud to yourself.

Sunday nights were the worst, but not this time.

A/N: Alright, I had so much fun with this one! I just had this urge to write Russell with a reader who had children and a trash man ex because why not? And I know I said it would be a one-shot… but my mind is already thinking of all the possibilities lol. Mostly because we all know I can’t really write just a one-shot 😅😂

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y’all think!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[epitaph-of-rebirth]

Doing this post to explain what lots of people missed on the Cait x Maddie thing and are just angry and freaking out about the character and not understanding WHY and also show that they already broke up and will not be danger on act 3 (srly I really believe on this and feel like we all missed because is a small scene).

So here is a explanation on WHY, because I'm going crazy that you'll missed lots of things.

Some of the explanation that I'll put here we got from Amanda Overton itself (you know, one of the writers of the show) on the epi4 watchalong party (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgpWJl1NuTE) the rest is showed on the episode 4 itself so here we go (Also SPOILERS FOR ACT2 here):

First, Amanda told us that the time skip from Act 1 to Act 2 is between 3 and 6 months, is not bigger than that like some you are saying. What is very helpful to know that Cait x Maddie affair also isn't happening for so long and we get this information from Ambessa herself when meeting them on Cait's office:

Caitlyn didn't rebound imediatly after the breakup, her thing with Maddie is recent, a few weeks at maximum or one or two night stands. Yes guys, you can stop being mad thinking that she fucking Maddie for months.

Also a important piece of information that again, Amanda shared, is Caitlyn's mentality about this relationship:

She is not after Maddie because she felt for another person, Caitlyn is struggling to live up to the ghost of Cassandra, she is trying to be the daughter she never was and this affect's even who she dates.

Amanda literally told that in Cait's mind she is thinking: "What if I dated someone my mom would approve of?"

Lot's of people think that Cassandra approved Vi because of the council scene but in Caitlyn's mind that's not the truth. Maddie is someone who would be approved, she is from piltover, probably has some family name and has a good job.

With all that, why a sex scene ? Well is very clear that Caitlyn is not able to be vulnerable anymore, the only one she let's under her wall's after her mom's death is Vi and it was already hinted that for Caitlyn's flirting with woman casually was a natural thing.

The only way for her to "date" someone without being able to be vulnerable, is by the thing she knows she can separate her feelings and don't need to be vulnerable to do it: sex. And we can in this case considerate that sex is also a way for her to cope with all like Vi does with alcohol.

Also even after having sex with Maddie, Cait clearly don't want the girl touching her and this is show not only by her expressions:

But also on the way both are dressed, Caitlyn's is untouched and clothed while Maddie is basically naked under her shirt and messy, giving a subtext of Cait being a top on this encounter so she can evade Maddie's touch.

And right after the scene we can see that Maddie herself KNOWS that Cait is evading her and not wanting to be touched, she KNOWS something is wrong and that Cait seems to not listen to her.

Other information that is given by Amanda, is that Ambessa is supposed to be the devil on Caitlyn's shoulder while Maddie is to make the position of a angel. The character exists to show that Caitlyn wasn't alone against Ambessa manipulation and make clear that she has some foot herself to be able to see what is right and wrong and later realize her wrong doings and fix that.

And now comes the part I feel like most people missed and are worried about in act3.

Maddie and Cait already ended their relationship, how I know? the statue scene:

Here we can see again Maddie looking up for Cait but Cait not acknowledging the girl existence until last minute when seems like Maddie told something.

Caitlyn's expression again is cold and then we can see Maddie's:

She is thinking and ready to cry and also show some hurt. She probably is ending things with Cait because the next time we see Cait. Is from Maddies eyes, something that fortiche does a lot and did on that very famous CaitVi bed scene. And this time is done again but we are looking at Caitlyn from Maddie's eyes:

The upper and low corner's are blurry, as if Maddie is almost crying. Also we can see Cait looking the ground and thinking on the next frames, as if reacting to something said to her.

And here is their breakup.

Yes is not a spoken scene, but considering how small her relationship is to Caitlyn, makes sense for things to end and Cait not really give much thought about it.

After that we NEVER see Maddie anymore, she is not on the side of Caitlyn for the rest of the act, and also Cait is always using her Commander cape after this scene, what makes clear: She is totally on the side of Ambessa, the devil won and the angel left.

And this cape is another thing that is used to reflect Caitlyn's mental state and choices, because we only see her back to her uniform without the cape, when she decided to ally with Vi by the end of the Act 2

I understand people who got annoyed by having "another one" in the middle of CaitVi ship and yes I know everybody worry about this making messy their reunion, but I feel like most people forgot that in Arcane, and on this season mainly, lots of things are being show by the art and animation and not by text, like the statue one.

Srly guys CaitVi will be alright, Maddie is not a horrible characters and this was not a bad choice to show Caitlyn mental state and character development. I understand being bitter with the angst but also let ourselves enjoy it a little.

[lalacliffthorne]

modern!batboys as (your) roommates - headcanons.

because let's be honest, we have all thought about that at some point.🦇

(this is the introduction of my new drabble universe!!! I can´t tell you how fucking excited I am.)

it would be wrong to say that your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roommates

sure, it wasn't as exciting

but you had your tiny little apartment, went out with friends once in a while and mostly enjoyed having your own space and routines

but then

shit hits the fan

and by shit I mean your landlord

because of a loophole in the rental agreement, he's able to kick you out of your apartment with only a months notice

in other words

you're fucked

or, as your best friend Feyre, who you met the first week of orientation and became inseperable with, says -

"That bastard." Feyre's eyes are stormy.

"What the hell am I gonna to do?" You bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled when you mumble: "How am I supposed to find a new apartment in a few weeks? For this one, I looked over a year, and it's a glorified shoebox!" Your voice rises as you feel a wave of dread crash over you and your heart rising into your throat.

"Hey, it's okay. If worst comes to worst, you can crash at my place,", Feyre raises her brows, "even though we'd have to share my bed, but - I won't just let you sleep on a park bench if that's what you're worried about. Unless you find another glorified shoebox that's technically out of your budget, it's you and me, crashing on my bed, climbing over your stuff to get to the bathroom, finding out what married life would feel like."

even though you love her to death, that really does not sound like an option you want to explore

so you try everything

scouring every paper for apartment advertisments, posting on your uni's socials, going to all the viewings you can find -

nothing

but just when you're ready to just give up

a miracle happens

the miracle is 5'5, has impeccable style and hair, a love for deep red lipstick and drops by for lunch

Mor has been your friend for two years now, since you almost spilled your coffee over her laptop at the library

(she's still not letting you live that down)

she also likes to get you out of your comfort zone

"Are you serious?" Mor stares at you wide-eyed.

"Yep." You tiredly stir your coffee. "I've been turned away for twenty apartments in the past few days alone. I'm aready seeing myself bunking with Feyre. She offered, but her bed barely fits into her apartment as it is."

Mor breathes a giggle before hastily clearing her throat. "Sorry."

You grin weakly before rubbing your face. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I know it could be even worse, but -"

"It already feels pretty shitty,", Mor ends. You sigh in confirmation and are about to change the topic, because you haven't seen the blonde in weeks and feel bad about ruining your lunch. But before you can open your mouth, Mor suddenly squints in thought. Then she looks at you.

"How much do you value your privacy?

Given the fact you'll be basically homeless on the street in about a week if you don't find a new place - not much.

Mor begins to grin, and there's a bright twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, then I might just have the solution."

the next day, Mor drags you downtown

she takes you to an old but sophisticated building you wouldn't even dream about living in

a single month's rent there would probably empty your whole bank account

but Mor just winks and pulls you up the stairs

on the third floor, a guy leans in an open door

and that

is how you meet Rhys.

Mor's cousin is annoyingly beautiful

tall, with perfectly tousled dark hair, a perfect grin that causes his cheeks to crease and, from the looks of it, the also perfect physique

he's also annoyingly charming

if you'd met him somewhere without Mor, you would have probably gaped for a moment before catching onto the mischievous twinkle in his nearly violet eyes and promptly avoided him, because someone that pretty had to have some fault

as it turns out, Rhys' fault is offering practical strangers to live with him without even batting an eye

"What?"

You blink at Mor from where you just sank onto one of the two very comfortable couches, because she can't possibly -

"Okay, before you freak out, just listen, okay?" Mor is grinning giddily. "The guys have a free room they don't really use anyway and you really need a new place - so you could just move in here!" She beams. "The place is definitely big enough, and you'd fit in perfectly, I promise! They're just as chaotic as you, but also very responsible -"

"Mostly." Rhys' eyes are twinkling. He's looking completely and slightly concerningly unbothered by the prospect of you, a factual stranger, moving in with him and his friends.

"- they don't have any bad habits, they're fairly neat -"

"Mostly."

Mor widens her eyes at you. "It's perfect!"

You blink at her.

"I've already talked to my roommates." Rhys' deep voice is almost soothing - mostly because he sounds a lot calmer than Mor, steady and reassuring.

"If you want, this can be temporary, until you find a place just for yourself, but this way you don't have to stress about needing to find a place in a certain time, plus,", he cracks a grin, "I don't like the idea of you having to crash on somebody's couch in the foreseeable future, that's just bullshit if we got a free room here no one uses anway. And if this works,", one corner of his lips quirks even more until his grin is a lot closer to the wicked twinkle in his eyes, "none of us would mind another roommate."

"You don't have to decide right now." Mor smiles brightly. "But I think it would be great, and you'd make a bargain with the rent, because Rhys loves to play sugar daddy -", her cousin flips her off, "and I think this would be a really good idea." She grins, suddenly a little sheepish.

if you weren't so desperate, you would whip out about a dozen arguments about why this probably isn't a good idea

like the fact that rooming with three dudes sounds like a lot of testosteron, or that you don't even know them, and that they don't even know you -

but from the way Rhys lounges in his chair, smirking easily while Mor beams at you, he doesn't seem to see too much of a problem in that

also you are very, very desperate

but there's still that one thing -

"About those roommates -"

When you hear the door, you raise your head, your heart doing a slightly concerning flip in your chest.

It's a day later, and you just finished the tour of the apartment Rhys has given you. Even though it's huge and very grand with it's high ceilings decorated with stucco and the original hardwood floors, it feels warm and cozy. The room you'd be sleeping in is as big as your whole current apartment, light with two big window and a view of the trees on the street outside.

It kind of makes you wonder where the catch is.

Maybe it's about to walk through the door.

You hear a deep voice and heavy footsteps, then a dude appears in the door to the kitchen.

Your heart does a somersault, and you feel your lips part a bit. Because frankly, it's a miracle he makes it through the door without hitting his head.

The guy's huge. His shoulders and chest strain against his t-shirt; he looks like one of those dudes who basically have muscle in their DNA, all corded muscle under ridiculously wide shoulders and a solid middle, muscular long legs under black jeans -

And you're staring.

Big time.

The dude's looking over his shoulder, which means he thankfully doesn't notice you oggling him. The half of his hair that isn't pulled back in a bun brushes against his neck when he grins, his cheeks creasing. He's really good looking, in a rugged kinda way, with his roughly curved jaw and the scar on the side of his face, and when he looks back ahead, his eyes twinkle warmly.

Then, behind him, another guy appears in the doorway, and your breath catches.

Because if Rhys is annoyingly beautiful, the guy in the door is drop-dead gorgeous.

Just like the other two, he's tall and all lean muscle. His shoulders shift under his black t-shirt as he leans against the doorframe, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. His eyes look like amber in sunlight, his dark hair is tousled, a strand curving over his forehead. His face is all angles and soft lips, with dark brows that look like he likes to crunch them in a scowl, but right now, he looks fairly relaxed, though his gaze is watchful.

And on yours.

Feeling warmth wash into your cheeks, you hastily look away while crap, crap, crap echoes through your head, because of course he caught you staring.

On to a really great start here.

Your gaze grazes his hands and the bit of uneven skin that merges into veiny, tan forearms before your eyes trail over the tattoos scattered over them, some peaking out from his sleeves.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat, and you feel the heat in your cheeks deepen when your eyes dart up and meet Rhys', a twinkle in his iris when he sends you a lazy grin.

"Boys, this is Y/N." He raises a brow. "Our new roommate."

and that is how you meet Cassian and Azriel

it almost makes you reconsider

because you're really not sure you're gonna survive rooming with three guys that pretty

but after thinking it over for a couple of days, you realize that you really don't have a choice

and so a week later, Rhys and Cassian come over to your apartment to help you move the first half of your stuff

neither blink an eye at the fact it's about the size of a broom closet in comparison to their home

Rhys does however scowl when he sees the condition of the bathroom

you're ready to sink into the floor when you hastily explain pretty much all the apartments in the building look like that

(a lil dingy and moldy)

but when he turns, Rhys just glowers and grumbles under his breath about how he'd like to rip your landlord a new one

it's the first time you realize that under all the aloofness and swagger and cheeky grins, Rhys cares

it's proven again when you move into your new room a week later and there's a new mattress on the also new bed

you haven't bought either of them, but when you try to protest, Rhys just huffs about your back probably being fucked up because of your old one and about how he'll add it to your rent

he never does

you get used to rooming with three guys surprisingly quickly

sure, it is pretty much a total 180 -

going from living alone in a tiny apartment

to sharing a huge flat with three dudes who make the place vibrate with laughter and bicker like they have been married for thirty years

but even tho you never thought you'd be the type to actually enjoy having roommates

you find that with them - you don't really mind

of course it is nice to have the place to yourself sometimes

and after about two weeks, you're comfortable enough to blast your music and dance through the kitchen when you're alone

(yes, at some point, they catch you - it takes you about a minute to realize there are three guys standing in the doorway, watching you dance with a broom. you get a mild heart attack and Cassian and Rhys start cackling while Azriel smirks)

but even if usually there's always someone around -

you find that all three of them are very good at both respecting your boundaries and leaving you be when you need to curl up in your room

but also seem to know when you need someone to drag your ass out into the world

and something about knowing at least one of them will probably be there when you get home makes you feel very warm and fuzzy

and even tho you weren't completely sure about this situation in the beginning

you get roped into living with the three guys instead of just rooming with them pretty easily

it really starts with Cassian

probably gets used to you living there the quickest

after barely a week, he's treating you like you've lived with them since the beginning

like just sticking his head into your room and making you help him with dinner

it surprises you a little that they all have dinner together

from what you've heard from friends who have roommates, they usually all do their own thing most of the time

but it makes you realise that these guys are more family than just roommates

Cassian is surprisingly easy to talk to

he's quick with the quips and the banter

also very flirtatious

constantly makes you laugh, his deep, boisterous chuckles infectous

also super affectionate

you're convinced the man is actually just a huge teddybear

after just a few weeks, you're used to hugs that lift you off your feet

cheek kisses as greetings

and being casually lifted out of the way like you don't weigh anything

not that you're the only one who gets that treatment

no, there are hugs in greeting that make Rhys groan dramatically like his air supply is cut off

and pats on the shoulder and smacking forehead kisses that make Azriel crinkle his nose

Cassian quickly becomes the one you go to when you need advice

he always listens attentively

doesn't sugarcoat things

stays objective while never making you feel bad or less about anything

and it quickly becomes pretty clear he'd put everything aside if any of you ever need help

gives you rides in his beat up truck to uni

and always picks you up when studying at the library gets late bc he doesn't like the idea of you out alone after dark

with Cass, even mundane things like grocery shopping become fun

he's just casually funny and teases the shit out of you at every opportunity

has no understanding of the concept of personal space

and with most people, that would kinda put you off a little in the beginning

but Cassian just has something about him

something so inheritly good and warm and sunny

that he never once makes you feel uncomfortable

if anything, with him around, you feel a lot more at ease

and not just bc it's always nice to have a guy in your back that towers over you like a lighthouse

though the whole massive, tatted dude with the dark eyes thing kinda goes out of the window as soon as he grins at you

dimples and all

but still, don't be fooled

when the grin's gone and he's glaring, you know why people make way for him immediately

he works at a gym to earn some money at the side

once, he takes you with him just for fun

then that one time becomes another and before you know it, you tag along twice a week

and it would be wrong to say it's not doing something to you when he crouches in front of or behind you, his deep voice rumbling as he mumbles encouragements

"Alright, come on, sweetheart, gimme one more."

Trying not to make a very embarassing groaning sound, you crunch your face in concentration and slowly lower yourself into a squat, your muscles trembling slightly.

"There you go, that's it." You can feel Cassian in your back, spotting you, his deep voice rumbling through you, and it's just almost distracing enough for you to -

"No, no, come on, you can do it." Cassian's deep chuckle sets you at ease, and he lightly pats the side of your thigh. "You got this, c'mon."

With a soft groan, you push yourself up again, and you can hear the triumph and wide grin in Cassian's voice when he goes: "Yeeessss, good job, baby. C'mon, you can do one more."

Blowing out a heavy breath and glaring at nothing in particular, you ready yourself.

when one day, he makes you lose focus, you're gonna throw something at him

you're pretty sure he does it on purpose just to see how red you can get

but Cass is really good at pushing you without overdoing it, always teasing and encouraging

and if you manage to do something, in the gym or otherwise, he grins so widely you're almost sure he's more proud of you than you are yourself

Rhys is a flirt.

and after you get over the first initial blush that just won't leave you alone for the first few weeks

it actually becomes entertaining

now bantering back and forth is basically all you do

it gets so bad, Azriel constantly rolls his eyes at the two you

but just like you suspected, behind all the flirtiness and mischievous grins

Rhys cares

a lot

whenever you're upset, he looks like he's contemplating ripping apart whatever or whoever made you upset

and whenever someone has a go at Cass or Azriel, Rhys picks them apart with lethal precision and a wicked smile

if Cassian is most affectionate, Rhys is close second

he's slightly more casual about it

pinching your nose, flicking your ear softly, offering his cheek for a kiss in greeting

always down for amazing hugs tho

whenever you get on your period, Rhys turns full mother hen

it's actually quite entertaining to see a 6-foot-something dude grumble because you don't want to take painkillers

"I just don't like to take them until it's really necessary, okay?" You glower at Rhys, curling up on the couch and trying to suppress a wince.

Rhys incredulously narrows his eyes.

"You're bleeding from inner organs and look like you want to curl into the couch. I'd say it is pretty necessary."

behind all the snark and arrogance, Rhys cares

also seems to have a rather unhealthy tendency to put everyone else first

you catch on pretty easily that even though his father is absolutely loaded, Rhys doesn't particularly cares about his money

in fact

he doesn't hesitate to spend whatever money his father pumps into his bank accounts for a second

when you ask Mor about it, she just smiles lopsidedly.

"I think it's his kind of protest?" She squints into the sun shining onto the balcony of the flat, the big glass of iced tea in her hand glittering in the light. "You know, spending all that money, preferably on his friends? Mostly because I don't think his father really likes them."

You wince.

"He knows he can't win against his father." Mor crunches her brows in thought. "I think he came to terms with having to take over the business one day, and he cares about the people who have their jobs there, so he won't let them down. It's just hard sometimes, if your whole life is already planned out for you." She shrugs gently. "Doing this, living with Cassian and Azriel and now you, spending his fathers money on it and actually having a good time instead of just being bitter and stuck up - it's his way of not surrendering completely."

you have never met Rhys' father, but even tho he's powerful af

you really feel a strong desire to kick him in the balls

Rhys has a knack of knowing exactly when you need to talk and when you need to be distracted

it's not unusual that after a bad day, he just joins you on the couch, plopping down and pulling your feet onto his lap

it either leads to you venting and him listening

usually giving very appropriate responses of either huffs, scowls or downright glowering

or, if you don't want to talk

he either lets you use him as a human pillow, grumbling over your choice of movie while scratching your head

or he takes you out

to the cinema, a museum, the theater -

you're pretty sure you've grown a lot more cultured in a few months than the whole of your life before that

it never gets boring tho

the whole thing kinda annoys the crap out of you in the beginning bc he never lets you pay for anything

but you get better at finding ways to pay him back in other ways

like taking over making dinner on days when he's exhausted

coaxing rants out of him when his father gets to him

dragging him out on nightly walks through the city when he can't sleep

and after a while

you understand that it's just one of Rhys' love languages

and it is fun to spend his father's money ;)

especially when it means museum Saturdays with the two of you just sitting and staring at paintings

or going to the cinema and pigging out on popcorn and greasy stuff while whisper-hissing fun facts at each other

even takes you to stuff like wine tastings

Rhys is a foodie

likes super fancy pickles, trying food you can't even pronounce and splurging on dinner

and if he decides the two of you need to get out of the apartment

one way or another

it usually ends in a restaurant

always orders like half the menu

also cooks the best out of all of you

like I'm talking freaking perfection

whips up the fanciest, most delicious far-too-many-courses meal for holidays

and goes all in even if he just makes dinner

you often get lured into the kitchen by the delicious smells

usually ends up with you on the couch at the table while Rhys moves around the kitchen

talking about everything and nothing

(also not above slapping anyone's hand away if they try to sneak a taste)

Azriel is quiet

not shy; you catch onto that pretty quickly

he's too quick and easy on any dry remark in response to his friends' boisterous teasing for that

and his gaze too firm and piercing

rarely shies away when you catch his gaze

in the beginning

that intimidated the shit out of you

the way he appears without a sound, towering over you, all dark and quiet and brooding

it's like he perfected the art of going unnoticed

tho you're not quite sure how

bc how could anyone not notice him?

after a while tho

you realise that even tho Azriel is dark and glowering and brooding

there's something gentle about him

it surfaces in the smallest things

like how his lips curve the softest bit when you grin up at him

how light and careful his touch is

how he is always respectful, putting himself between you and the street, holding doors open without ever seeming to think twice about it

and how everything about him seems to darken when he witnesses anyone being treated poorly

but even if anger rages within him like a quickly rising tide, quiet and dangerous

you still always feel safe with him

maybe it's bc, even in those moments, you just know it will never be directed at you

and that even tho there's always that darkness within him, it's never something that feels unsettling or dangerous

and instead soft and welcoming

like something about him and that steady, dark gaze just calms you

maybe because he's so quiet, Azriel seems to see and hear everything

in record time, he begins to catch onto every little detail about you

mundane things

like how you like your favorite drink or what your favorite ice cream is

the only reason you know he notices is because he begins to hand you cups in the morning that are exactly right and the freezer starts to always hold a big container of your favorite ice cream

but also seems to know exactly what your tell is when you're nervous

uncomfortable

or tired

what makes you upset

happy

nervous

what causes you to giggle uncontrollably

and so on

it should probably unsettle you, how easily he sees through you

but it doesn't

sure, it's a bit weird at first

but you quickly realise it's strangely comforting - that someone pays enough attention to know even the smallest thing about you

Azriel is your favorite person to be around when you just need a break

it's like something about him is grounding, steady

like being around him makes your thoughts calm down

makes it easier for you to sort the chaos your mind sometimes becomes

you quickly realise that beneath all of the quiet watchfulness lies a wicked, dry sense of humor

his mumbled remarks make you snort laughter or beam widely up at him

always makes his lips curve

he reads a ton

when you first see his room, you almost gape

because the man has books

they fill the shelves

balance in towers on the floor

sit on the window sill and next to his bed

most of the books in the shelves in the living room are his as well

has a great dislike for movie adaptions

sits there with that scowl of his, glaring at you until it's over when you make him watch one

says it destroys the pictures in his head

(to be fair

you don't think he's entirely wrong about that)

always has a camera in reach

got a few, all older ones; no fancy digital ones, but all on film

just like he seems to catch onto everything

so does his camera

it's like the manifestation of his quiet perception of things

to fix things onto film

he captures everything

most of the time, you don't even notice

only sometimes you raise your head to find the camera in his hands, a slight curve to his lips

develops all pictures himself, in a dark room on campus students can book

spends hours in there, just working in silence

there's usually a lot of bugging involved before he shows the developed pictures to anyone

usually ends in all of you leaning over them eagerly, trying to figure out when he took them

Rhys standing in the kitchen, grinning over his shoulder like Cassian just made a bad joke

you and Feyre, laughing so hard you lean into each other

Mor, lying upside down on the couch while focusing on the cards in her hand while you're next to her, mid-motion, a focused expression on your face

Cassian napping on the couch, twisted in a very uncomfortable position to fit all six feet something of him onto the cushions

there seems to be an endless number, and they're all carefully stored away in his shelves

some, he refuses to show to anyone

it takes you so little time to feel at home in the huge flat, the prospect of looking for an apartment for yourself is off the table before you can actually start

and it doesn't take long until you're part of the routines like you'd been there since the beginning

Saturday and Sunday evenings are for movie nights

sometimes, Mor joins you

you sit with Azriel on the couch, sharing a big bowl of popcorn while staring at Rhys and Cassian argue about which Star Wars movie to start with

in the summer, you take trips to the lake for swimming and laying in the sun

have game nights

evenings sitting on the balcony, squinting into the setting sun

barbecues

and afternoons in the park, one joining in after the other

in winter, you go to the ice rink

bake together

and spend whole weekends on the couch, watching movies

you go to the gym with Cassian or accompany him on his runs

(well, he's running - you're on your bicycle, because there's no way you can keep up with that dude´s long legs)

or get dragged out onto hikes by Rhys

in the evenings, you usually all end up in the kitchen for dinner, banter thrown over the dinner table

Azriel and you mostly take care of the grocery shopping together

it usually entails you trying to reach something on a high shelf and Azriel huffing, moving to grab it without even having to stretch

sometimes Cassian joins in, and you both make it your mission to annoy Azriel until he cracks a grin

both Az and Rhys regularly give you rides on their motorcycles

while Cassian likes to stick to his old, beat up truck, Rhys has a car as well, but alternates between it and the motorcycle

more often than not, he uses it as opportunity to flirt

small cleaning duties in the apartment are rotated between the four of you

but big-once-a-month-deep-cleans are something you make a day of

blasting music, you divide the flat and get to work

(bathroom duty is rotated)

in the (very rare) case of an argument, it usually ends in one of you being mediator

which means after a cooling off period

the arguing parties are locked in the pantry until they've talked things out

works surprisingly well

sometimes, the boys bring someone home

it usually comes with a text

or the very oldschool sock on the door

tho you ban that one after Cassian forgets it

and you walk into the flat unsuspectingly only to be flashed

Cassian apologizes profoundly

after he's done laughing

there are also a few awkward encounters in the hall in the morning that leave you contemplating not running around in just big t-shirts

Feyre still gives you rides to campus and back

but sometimes, it's Azriel waiting in the parking lot instead, leaning against his motorcycle, two helmets next to him

it does not help with the way your heart seems to speed up whenever you find his amber eyes on you

but you're very adamant on pushing that away

it's probably not that serious anyway.

so

it would be wrong to say your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roomates

but it sure as hell is a lot better now that you have

even if they do drive you a little nuts sometimes

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels

[roseareeh]

Purple Hearts | Steve Harrington x Military! Reader

Notes: Guess who's back 🕺 Back again 🕺 Noa's back 🕺 Tell a friend 🕺 For my return, I made y'all a whammy of a story. I hope you enjoy! This is inspired by the movie Purple Hearts, which is available on Netflix. Also a big, big, BIG thank you to @losingmygrasponreality because she wrote Steve's proposal, a big part of the letter and helped me with the e-mails. I love you! 🤍

Words: 18.4k

Warnings: Operation Desert Storm, Deployment, Medical Issues due to diabetes, leg injury, death, description of grief

“She's back!”, Robin yelled through her house. Unexpectedly, she saw your truck pull in the driveway. “She's back, she's back, she's back!” Quick footsteps echoed through the hallway as she hurried down the stairs. Her mother gave her a confused look, but saw what was happening by taking a peek out the window.

You, Robin's best friend since childhood, came back from deployment after 10 months. “You're back!”, she screamed while running through the door and into your arms. “Oh my god, you're back! Did you miss me? What are you doing here? Weren't you gonna be away for 2 more months?” Robin didn't let go while showering you with questions.”Yes, I'm visiting, yes.”, you giggled while hugging her back and feeling your cap slip from your head. “My parents are out of town, you wanna have a sleepover?”

Funny enough, Robin was gonna ask you something and would've requested to meet alone with you. This was perfect! “Hell yeah I wanna have a sleepover!” Robin let go of you and made you follow after to pack her bag. You talked to her mother Lisa in the meantime, telling her that your deployment went well and you were excited to be back for a few months. She was also concerned about your health, but you assured her that you weren't hurt badly.

Robin hurried downstairs with her bag slung over her shoulder. “Come on, sleepover!”, she said while grabbing your hand. That reaction never changed, ever since you two were at least four. “Alright, come on. Bye Lisa!”

Your passenger seat was basically assigned to her at this point. Even if it was empty for the past 10 months, it was still her spot. “Did you get even more ripped while you were gone?”, she shamelessly asked. You didn't notice much, but she definitely did. That torso of yours was basically a tree trunk. “Maybe. Probably.”, you replied while leaving her driveway in the truck.

All your life, you lived just down the street from Robin. That contributed to your best friend status a lot. Driving wasn't necessary, but you also didn't want to leave your truck in her driveway. After the 2-minute drive, she practically jumped out of the car to get inside. “Come on! Can we order pizza? Please let it be pizza!”

So after ordering pizza, getting a glass of wine for one of you each and sitting down on the couch, you turned to her with a questioning look.

“What is it that you wanted to ask me?”

“So, you remember that big favour you owe me?” Honestly, you forgot all about it until she mentioned it just now. “I did now. Why? You need help?” Robin sighted while thinking about what to say. “So, a friend of mine…you know him, actually. Steve Harrington.” Steve? The guy who made your life a living hell? “Your friend, Robin? Seriously?”

“He changed, I promise! Steve's a good guy.” You leaned back against the couch and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “What does that have to do with the favour?” She sighted and took a deep breath. “Can you please marry him so he can get into your medical insurance?” Robin talked so fast that you had to take a good 30 seconds to even realise what she said, and then some more to grasp what she was asking you. “Excuse me?”, you finally asked in disbelief. That was actually insane. “He was diagnosed with Diabetes Type 1 a few months ago. His insurance doesn't cover the insulin he needs to, well, live, and if you'd marry him he'd get full insurance.” Sure, that made sense technically. But you'd break so many military laws. You'd scam the state, risk your job and possibly get jail time if someone found out. “Robin, that's illegal.”, you said. “Besides, he bullied me. Steve's not a good person.” Your best friend scrambled for her words, trying her absolute best to convince you to basically save her other best friend. “He changed. Please, at least talk with him about it. We really tried everything, but…I can't watch him die.” The desperation in her voice pulled at your heartstrings. Yes, you could marry him in theory. And you'd even get extra money just for being married. Not that you had any debts to pay off, but you were saving up for a new car. “Fine. I'll talk to him.” True to God, you've never seen her this desperate for anything. Not even when she came out to you and was hoping you'd stick by.

Just as you finished up breakfast and were getting ready to go on a run, the doorbell rang. It was Robin and Steve. “Seriously? It hasn't even been 24 hours.”, you said while leaning against the doorframe before looking over at Steve. His eyes were scanning your form in your leggins and tight top with an impressed look. “I told you it's urgent.”, your best friend said while stepping inside. Steve followed after her like a puppy after its mother. The door closed back when you turned and followed after. “Robin, even if you could convince me, I couldn't marry him until like, a month from now.” Your tone was hushed while her eyes went wide. “A month?”, she asked. It made perfect sense, how was she so shocked? “Do you want to keep this on the down low or immediately have the court marshall on my ass?”

“He might not even have a month!”, she argued back. You sighted and let a hand run through your hair. “Robin, this would break so many military laws. I'm risking everything if I follow through. Besides, I can't even pretend like he's my boyfriend who I suddenly wanna marry after deployment.” Your best friend gave you a raised eyebrow, meanwhile Steve was just awkwardly standing in your living room. How did he get himself into this?

“Why? You were always a lover girl.”, she stated. Technically, that was true but your current pool of single men wasn't one for long-term relationships. “Because I fucked like, 3 guys on my deployment and my platoon sergeant.” This made it even worse for Steve. Just so…awkward.

Last time he saw you, you were a teenager with some pimples, glasses and nerdy interests. He put you down just for being yourself, and he felt so bad about it. And now? You were confident, had men lining up for you and looked beautiful. Realistically, there was no reason for you to agree. Not for your job, not for him, for nothing really.

“So, we make up a story. You cheated and felt so sorry that you married him to show your commitment.” But all you did was scoff. Was she serious? “I'm not making myself look like a cheater for some guy. Are you insane?” Maybe she was. This was Robin, after all. All of this felt surreal to you. How could you marry a guy who relentlessly bullied you? And ruin your reputation in the meantime? This kind of gossip would spread like wildfire. He was, even with his condition, just some guy.

“Please get out. Both of you.”

Your best friend tried starting a discussion again, but you dismissed her. “Leave. I'm not joking, please get out.” Eventually, they left and you laid down on your couch to reflect on what just happened.

They came back 2 days later. While you were annoyed, you let them inside. “Robin, it's still a fraud. I can lose my job and go to jail.”, you repeated. How could she not get it through her head? “I know, but please. I'm…we're begging you, he really, really, really, can't even afford to live. There's this whole thing with his parents, and-” Steve cut her off. This is the first time you heard him speak up since high school.

“Robin, it's fine. We'll figure something else out.” She tried to argue with him for a bit, but he was awfully quiet, eventually swayed and collapsed on the floor. “Steve!”, Robin yelled while running over. The thud you heard when his head hit your wooden floor was terrifying. That must hurt.

“Fucking hell Steve, where's your glucagon?!” Her yelling at him was useless, Steve was barely conscious. Your best friend went through all of his pockets until finding a small bag filled with syringes and vials. The one she pulled out was barely full…maybe barely enough to bring him back. “Take off his jacket.”, she instructed you. You didn't notice how much you were shaking until you saw your trembling hands taking off the brown coat he was wearing. Robin injected the glucagon and tries to keep him awake by talking to him; that everything is gonna be fine, he’ll be back up in no time, he’ll be okay. It took a good 20 minutes, but he came back to it.

Those 20 minutes were your personal hell. It was scary. This is what diabetes did? That's absolutely horrifying. And now, knowing that you could stop this, there was a feeling of guilt in your stomach. Well, was it guilt or did you just feel pity? Regardless, it hit you that you could fix this. Especially after seeing an almost-empty vial, that was most likely his last one his insurance covered.

Once he got up, you looked him in the eyes. His eyes were filled with fear; just as you expected. But the feeling in your stomach was back. The pity. The guilt. All of it. Steve looked like a scared little boy, nothing like King Steve who bullied you. You had to do something. You know you could.

“I'll do it.”, you said once Robin got him to sit on your couch. Steve could've fainted again on the spot, judging by the look on his face. Meanwhile, Robin looked at you with big eyes and a surprise look, before jumping up and falling into your arms. “Oh my god, thank you! I'll never be able to repay you for this, oh god! You're the best friend ever!” After a bit more praise and tight hugs, she let go breathlessly. “Alright, sit down before you pass out as well.” You turned to Steve with crossed arms. “We'll have to talk out conditions first, though. This is risky for both of us, but especially me.” He nodded quickly, still looking rather shocked. “Yes, anything you want. When do you, uhm…”

“Tomorrow, at 3. I'll make coffee, okay?”

And so it was. While you were making coffee and looking if you still had some cookies left in the cookie tin (they were all stale), the doorbell rang. Steve was awkwardly shuffling his feet while fiddling with his fingers.

“Come in.”, you greeted him with a neutral expression. Steve now took a closer look around your house before standing next to your kitchen island like he was dropped off and forgotten to be picked up. Meanwhile, you jumped onto your kitchen island and took a seat. Steve reluctantly poured himself some coffee, and then some for you.

“There's gonna be some ground rules if we do this.”, you said while crossing your legs. He quietly nodded, knowing he'd accept any condition you'd put out. Steve was desperately looking for help. There was nothing he wouldn't do at this point. “I get extra money for being married. Unless your car breaks down, or you need extra money for utilities, it's mine.” That seemed alright to him. “And I work 12 hour shifts, four days straight, then I get three days off. But I spend most of my free days at the gym for my job. You'll do the majority of the housework.” Isn't that basically an unpaid maid? Although, again, he'd do anything for proper insurance. “And most important is that you don't tell anyone. This deal stays between you, me and Robin. I'm ripping off the government, and if we get caught, I lose my job and we could both go to jail. Me for sure, you…I don't know.” Would he have to? That didn't matter; it can't happen. “We can't tell our parents, friends, nobody. It's gonna be a long game of pretending for a while, but when you get a promotion or something, you can look for new insurance. Then we'd hand in a divorce and you'd have insurance for another year. Plenty of time.” Steve very quickly caught up to how important this was. He didn't want himself or you going to jail, even if one might think he would based on your past together. But that wasn't him anymore. He became a decent guy, after all. Even if you didn't trust that whole thing yet, Robin trusted him. That should be enough for now.

“Nobody thinks we're in a relationship right now, so we'll be on their radar anyways. Might get called a shotgun wedding, but I'll smoke that out no problem.” You'd prove that you weren't pregnant easily, even if the higher ups asked. Besides, military couples get married quickly. That's not unheard of, although you never wanted to play into the stereotype. Not that you planned on getting married any time though; husbands aren't a concept in your world.

But there you were, setting down ground rules for a fraudulent marriage.

“So, I can make us an appointment at the courthouse quickly. We'll be taking pictures, so wear something reasonable. I'll throw on my uniform and call it a day.”

“My parents are gonna wanna meet you.”, he finally spoke up. Was that really his only condition? “Sure, we can do that. Although that makes our story much more unbelievable…or would a secret girlfriend be realistic?” Steve stayed quiet for a bit, head filled with thoughts. “It wouldn't be unimaginable.”, he finally said. Doesn't seem like he had the best relationship with them, and Robin saying something about the trouble with their insurance yesterday it kinda made sense.

“You don't owe them contact with you, Steve. I don't know what happened, but I can tell something isn't right.” He still didn't seem to wanna talk about it, so after some silence you kept talking. “We're gonna have to kiss in public. That's unavoidable. Cheeks and forehead are always okay with me, mouth…well, if the situation fits. Also, hand holding is kinda of a must. They'll have to believe we're head-over-heels in love, since this is a very…spontaneous wedding.” He just nodded, knowing that this would be harder than originally anticipated.

“And most importantly, Steve.” Your tone changed from serious to desperate. “I'm putting everything on the line. You'll have to lie to everyone. Friends, family, whoever you thought you can share anything with you'll have to feed lies to. I don't care if you forget to cook dinner sometimes, but this is the biggest rule. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

And so it was. A week after getting your marriage license, you were pulling up in front of Steve's house. While you decided to wear your uniform, Steve came out in a black suit with a white button-up. No complaints here, he looked like a groom. Or a makeshift groom, at least. He was carrying some paper in his hands when he sat down in the passenger seat.

“Good morning.”, he said in a rather quiet tone. This was getting to him just as much as it got to you. You were pacing around all night and day, ironing your uniform, crying your eyeballs out because the anxiety was eating you alive, just to go back to calming yourself by stuffing a pack of twinkies in your mouth. Despite feeling incredibly sick, you still got into your car and drove over.

“Mornin’”, you mumbled. “You ready?” Steve saw how your hands shaked on the steering wheel, and that you wiped them off on your pants. “Almost.”, he replied. You looked over with a raised eyebrow. “I got you something…sort of like a wedding gift.” That must've been the paper he was holding. You assumed it was just documents he needed for marrying you. But once you opened it, you found a letter inside.

Dear (Y/N),

Before we enter this stage of our lives together, I not only wanted to thank you, but show my deep remorse for our past.

I've been cruel and unfair to you, without taking any prior accountability for it or even apologising. I was a coward who picked on someone who never deserved it, and I have no excuse for it, maybe my own insecurities. I'll never expect for you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I deeply regret it. If I could turn back time and undo all of the things I did to you - I would.

And now, somehow, even after everything I put you through, you're still willing to help me. You're doing something for me that I truly don't think I deserve - something that could save my life. I don't know why you said yes to this, but please know that I am forever grateful. More than I could put into words.

You are a better person than I ever was. Then I ever will be. And I want you to know that I see that now. I see you.

Thank you, (y/n).

Not just for this, but for being the kind of person who would even consider this.

Yours, Steve.

You did your absolute best to hold back your emotions after reading through it. His words were beautiful, poetic, dripping with emotions. He got you at a loss for words and holding back tears while he remained quiet and started the car. Maybe it was rude, but you two did have an appointment at the courthouse.

Unlike the two of you, Robin was ecstatic to join the two of you. She went as far as to take her fourth-hand, barely working camcorder with her. Anything to make it look real, I guess. But walking up the stairs to the courthouse felt like a prisoner walking to his execution to you. Not because you don't want this, but because of the sheer risk. Regardless, before you knew it, you stood in front of the officiant.

“That's very kind of you, Steve.”, you finally said as he pulled out of the driveway. Robin was right when she said he changed for the better. King Steve would've told you to stop whining, but this wasn't King Steve. This was Steve Harrington; grateful, remorseful, reflective. “It's the bare minimum, really.”, he replied. Together, you drove to Robin's place to pick her up. Since she was the only one who's in on the deal, she was ought to be the witness. Nobody else knew. Not our parents, not our friends, no one.

“Sooo…”, you mumbled while standing in front of him in your living room. The ring on your finger still felt odd. “I guess we're married now.” Steve didn't know whether to laugh or not. “Sure are.”, he agreed. Both of you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Especially you, since your stress was at an all-time high. This was really real, no way of backing out of it anymore. What do you do now? There is no guide on a fraudulent marriage.

The speech was short. After all, this was just paperwork. One and done. Still, you held his hand the entire time and looked him in the eyes. The look of love on your face was fake, and so was his. Admittedly, he looked beautiful. Unfortunately, he has always been gorgeous. But did you have to feel this way right now?

"(y/n) (y/l/n), do you take Steve as your husband?"

"I do." There was no hesitation, not even for a second. There couldn't be.

"Steve Harrington, do you take (y/n) as your wife?"

"I do."

He didn't hesitate either. Good. Good act he put on.

"By the power invested in me by the great state of Indiana, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Steve cupped your face with one hand and leaned in. Again, no hesitation. Neither did you, kissing him back like you were head-over-heels in love with him. Not that you were, but the officiant couldn't know that.

Honest to God, you don't remember much from that day. Maybe you disassociated for most of it. At least that's what it looked like on Robin's tape. But you do remember going home with him. Alone. In your now shared house.

“Are you shaking because of your blood sugar, or are you nervous?” His hands were so shaky that not even his pockets could hide it. “Nervous.”, he replied. A sigh left your mouth. “Yeah…me too…” You started pacing up-and-down the living room a bit, before stopping in front of him unintentionally. Both of you stared deeply into each other's eyes, and something snapped inside of you. Like rabid animals, you started a heavy makeout session. While tangled into each other's limbs, you two plopped onto the couch. He groaned when you took a seat on his lap and moved your hips against his crotch.

Without even loving each other, you still shared a wedding night. One that was purely intended to let off steam, but regardless something to remember.

When you woke up in your bed the next morning and saw him next to you, panic rose up. “Fuck…”, you hissed while standing up. It took you a whopping 10 seconds to grab clothes to throw on, not wanting him to see you naked. It didn't even phase him, but you'd eventually have to get him up. You still wanted to sleep in, but getting something to eat was more important right now. Eating wasn't a priority in yesterday's hassle.

Steve woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon in the house. When he walked downstairs, he saw you eating in the kitchen while going through a load of paperwork. “Good morning.”, he said, trying to avoid your gaze. You stayed quiet and pointed at a plate standing on the counter. “Thanks.” The tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife, although it wasn't the good kind. It was clear you didn't want to talk about last night while he was trying not to make a big deal out of it. “I'm gonna get my stuff from my apartment in like an hour.”, Steve said, trying to start a conversation. But all he got was a “Mhm.” from you. With a sigh, he put his plate down and leaned against the counter.

“Last night can't be undone by not talking to me.” You looked up from the papers in front of you with a sour expression. “It's just…weird, okay? We got married and moved in together yesterday, then we had…you know…I don't know what to make of it.” While he understood what you were saying, he wished you would've told him without ignoring him. “That's alright. Won't be around you for most of day anyways, so you can have some time for yourself.” His gaze went to the paperwork in front of you. Okay, maybe not alone-time in the sense you might need. “It's your tricare application. Since you'll be added now.” The pen you were holding softly tipped against the paper. “Well, not an application. More your info.” You read over the words again and let out a groan. “Nevermind. Did it wrong…I'll go back to bed.”

The two of you didn't see each other until the late evening. He was busy moving things around, cleaning his old apartment and getting settled in with the help of his friend Eddie while you were doing…actually, he didn't know what you were up to. But you did leave at some point to get him and Eddie takeout.

“For the hard work.”, you told them with a smile. Eddie happily took the food from your hand, saying how he was near starving already and then plopped down on the couch with Steve.

This was the first challenge. Acting like a married couple, because Eddie didn't know. So you sat down with them. “How's it coming along?”, you asked them with a small smile. Steve swallowed his food quickly while coming up with an answer. “Good. Just gotta put my clothes in the bedroom.” Right. How could you forget? And how could you forget to make space for him? With so much on the line? “I cleared out the right side for you.”, you lied. “Actually, I think I forgot my socks in one drawer. I'll put them away quickly.”

While both were sitting downstairs, you did a speedrun in reorganising your entire dresser. The fact that as much as clothes could expose all your lies made the entire situation so much clearer to you, how risky it was, how you couldn't trust anyone no matter how nice Eddie seems.

Why did you do this to yourself?

20 minutes later, everything was crammed into the right side. With as many clothes as you had, it was hard to really fit everything in there. You'll have to get something else for your things in the next few days, or one for Steve.

“Honey, do you mind a trip to Williams-Sonoma this week?”, you asked your fake-husband when he came up with his best friend. Both were carrying a box each in, and Eddie took a look around. It looked all like you and none like Steve. “I may have more clothes than expected, we can get you your own dresser.” With a huff, both put the boxes down. Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek and a smile. “Sounds good. We have all week anyways, no?”

“This place needs the Harrington makeover anyways.”, Eddie joked with a small grin. The both of you chuckled at his words. “True, true. Although the collection of basketball tees already gives a certain touch.” Both Eddie and Steve laughed a bit at those words. All of the basketball merchandise was scattered around your living room, hallway and even the kitchen. “I assumed the bedroom too, no?” You tapped one of the boxes with your foot while grinning. “Just a bit. I know how much you love the decor here.” In your entire house, actually, but you couldn't say that. “How considerate.”, you giggled before giving him a small kiss on the lips. This still felt weird. Not wrong, just…odd.

“I'll let you two be. Gotta see where to put all my medals now.” That wasn't a lie, they were on the wall of your living room but since some of Steve's framed and signed basketball tees now moved in, it didn't feel like the right space for it. Maybe they could go in the hallway next to the family pictures and your portraits. Together with your new wedding pictures that will be arriving soon. “Can't wait to see it.”, Steve said.

It didn't take long for you to find the right place for all your belongings. Actually, it took such a short amount of time that you were sitting on the couch and watching Home Improvement by the time the two finished upstairs. “Getting ready for tomorrow, aren't we?”, Steve teased the second he came into the living room. Unfortunately, he was naturally funny and your chuckle was real. “Well, if we're going we might as well get some other things. This couch is like…god, it was here when I moved in.” Eddie seemed absolutely smittened by the act you two put up. What a successful day. “You've got any wives left for me at the army?”, he joked while putting on his shoes. He, too, was naturally funny. “Maybe husbands, they're quite charming and desperate.” It made both of them laugh. “I'll take anyone, honestly.”, Eddie replied. That seemed like a clear enough answer. “Sure, I'll set you up. Hope to see you again, it was nice meeting you!” Steve's friend left, leaving you two alone in your shared house.

“I hate to admit that you're funny.”, you said once he came back from the front door. “Yeah?”, Steve chuckled. “Well then, it's only fair if I entertain you.” The initial awkwardness faded as you two sat on the couch and just talked. Not as lovers, but as friend. Maybe Steve Harrington could be your friend after all. Just a friend. Despite laughing and talking for hours, he still slept on the couch.

You two went to get him his insurance at base first thing in the morning. It was a rather quick process, considering you collected all the information first. As the deal promised, he got his dependent insurance card. Steve was safe. He'll be okay. And once back in the car, he couldn't stop staring at the card in his wallet. That was quite literally his lifeline. The thing that would save him, all inside this little piece of plastic. “Thank you.”, he mumbled with a shaky voice. It was easy to hear that he was holding back tears. “You're welcome. Mind paying for some coffee before Williams-Sonoma?” It made him laugh, and after a small sniffle he nodded. “Sure. Anything. I'll even get you a cookie.”

“A cookie? Oh, you're spoiling me, Mr. Harrington.” With laughter filling the car, you two drove off to buy new furniture.

A few hundred dollars later, some coffee and a spontaneous trip to TJMaxx for some home decor and candles, you two were setting everything up. Honestly, you didn't mind the whole home makeover until Steve started feeling unwell.

“I've got it. Don't overwork yourself.” He groaned while watching you push furniture around. As much as he was impressed by your physical strength, he hated the thought of not being helpful. “Stop pouting, Harrington. See, I can manage.” You flexed your upper arms, showing off your muscles in the process. He couldn't help but stare. Where did you hide these? “Should I be ashamed that your arms are bigger than mine?” You giggled and sat down next to him. This really started feeling like a friendship, or maybe it was one already. It sure felt like one. “You can join me for my workout. Although it may be a bit advanced for you.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Probably. I'm not exactly army-level sporty.”

Like last night, you two spend hours talking, eventually cranking open a bottle of wine and ordering pizza. So much for Steve will cook. But it didn't matter, because you were actually having a great time with him. Plus, the new couch felt so comfortable.

Faking a relationship really won't be that hard if you two are friends.

A week after getting married, you had to go back to work. So did Steve, but he admitted that being a technician at a radio station wasn't as hard as being in the army. Except you had a little side quest that day: Find Eddie the date you promised you'd set him up with. While nobody was openly into men, you knew your people. Especially your work best friend, Sean.

“Look who's back from their honeymoon.”, he said with a grin the second he laid his eyes on you. The two of you shared a hug before he asked how it was, what you did, and whatnot. When you asked him if he'd like to spend his smoke break with you, Sean agreed and went out to his car with you after telling him you'd like a word.

“So, what's going on?”, he asked while taking a cigarette from his pack.

“My husband has a friend, and I don't know if he was joking or not, but he was asking me to set him up with someone.” The smoke left Sean's mouth slowly, but he didn't seem opposed. “He? Like, a man?” You nodded slowly, trying to read his expression. He took a long drag from his cigarette again, and finally gave you a reply. “Tell me ‘bout him.”

“His name's Eddie, he's exactly your age, uhm…Steve told me he's in a band with some high school friends. Really into metal, Dungeons and Dragons, and uuh…he runs the record store in Hawkins. I think that's all I know.” In all fairness, Sean seemed more than interested. The smirk on his lips was undeniable; he saw him before. “Give him my number. I'll go from there.”

So that was that. Life went on, Sean went out with Eddie, Robin came over at least once a week while you kept on living your lie. At least you and Steve were friends at this point. He always had an open ear for you, tried his best to help in any way, cooked, cleaned, looked after you. At first he did it out of kindness and for being grateful, but after a month his feelings for you started to shift. Every “Thank you for dinner.”, and every “I got you some snacks on the way home.” made his heart skip a beat. His kisses in public were real. Putting his hand on your hips was real. Every touch, every word of affection, it all became real.

And you?

This was nothing more than a friendship to you. You swore it would never be more than a friendship, and you kept it. But no matter how bad Steve wanted to tell you, he couldn't. His life was quite literally on the line. He couldn't make it awkward or uncomfortable for you. Suffering with this in silence is the best option, until he gets over it.

Robin, Eddie and Sean were coming over for lunch that particular day. Your amazing match-making skills worked out, Sean and Eddie were boyfriends, although secret ones since his job would be on the line. Neither cared, they just seemed way too happy. Plus, they and Robin could be themselves at your place.

Steve was making Salmon Pasta while you set up the dinner table. Once done, he already handed you a glass of your favourite white wine. “You know me so well.”, you said with a grin while taking it from his hands. “I'd argue I'm fairly acquainted with your habits and favourites by now.” It honestly made you feel bad. How much did you know about him besides his favourite basketball team? He was always cooking food that you liked, buying drinks you enjoyed, watching shows you loved. Maybe he was slowly losing himself in his feeling of owing you something. “You mind if I cook tomorrow? Anything you want, it's my day off.” You may be in for a very simple pasta dish or some eloquent food with caviar and truffle. Unfortunately, you wouldn't know. Maybe Robin could help. “Can you even cook?”, he joked. “I don't mind playing housewife, but you were adamant about me doing the housework.” It honestly made you laugh. “I can cook! I'm just always tired after work.”

“Alright, Commando, whatever you say.” You playfully slapped his shoulder at the nickname. This small gesture set fireworks off inside him, while you only found it amusing.

It was a great night. You've never seen Sean this happy, and from what Steve told you neither did Eddie. Robin told you Steve's favourite meal was burgers and fries, so you went out and bought everything the next day. He was surprised to see everything spread out on the kitchen counter as you were frying, baking and cutting the ingredients. “How did you know that's my favourite?”, he asked while leaning against the doorframe. It would be embarrassing to tell him you had to ask your best friend about it. “You told me.” To him, that was the highest honour. “And there's Budweiser in the fridge. I kinda assumed what beer you'd like, honestly.” No you didn't, Robin told you. But he didn't have to know that. “Are you a psychic? I love those.” Happily, he went over to the fridge to grab a beer. This truly made you happy. After all, he did so much for you without complaining once. “Food should be done in maybe 30 minutes. You wanna shower in the meantime?”

“Your spoiling me, Commando.”, he said with a grin. The butterflies in his stomach were going absolutely insane, while you were blissfully unaware of his feelings, and just happy to take some work off of him for once.

“Hey, uhm, Steve?”, you mumbled while entering the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove and cooking some pasta before peeking up his head. “I don't like that tone.” His words only made you sigh. “So, I was at work today and they need me to go back to Iraq…just for a month or so, though.” That confused him, you said the general rule of thumb was to stay home for about as long as you were deployed. How could they make you leave again after being home for just 3 months?

“I can't really stop you, can I?” He tried his best to joke, but there was concern and a hint of fear on your face. “It's not like I can say no.”, you mumbled. Steve turned down the stove and strained the pasta before watching you walk over to a chair standing at the kitchen counter. There was a small slouch in your form.

“Talk to me, what's going on?”, he asked while throwing the hand towel over his shoulder. A sigh left your mouth while you tried finding the right words. “It's just…I mean…you know how…” Your faux husband wasn't used to you stuttering, or even being short of words to find.

“Scary?”

“Yes, very.”, you admitted, grateful for him saying what's unspeakable to you. “Every time.” Steve went over to the fridge to grab your favourite soda while you sat there, head between your palms and thinking about what was to come. “Only one month feels…odd. Like it's a real risk. I don't know.”

“But there's always a risk, no? This one's just…shorter.” Unfortunately, Steve was right. The risk of injury or worse was always there.

“You're right. There's just this pit in my stomach…but maybe I'm just scared of getting caught.” That seemed logical to the both of you. While out in the field, there was a greater risk. Especially if you wouldn't call or write letters. “They just cranked all this up a lot, oh god.” You let your hands run over your face, followed by a deep sigh. Steve just kind of…stood there. What is he supposed to say to consult you? Realistically, there was nothing. He didn't know anything about army life, yet how to calm down someone who was awaiting deployment.

“Do you…wanna go talk to Robin? I don't, uhm…” Right, how was he supposed to react? It's not like he could relate, or be too sad you won't be home. Your marriage was fake; no loving husband, let alone kids, to come home to.

“Yeah, I guess. I'll give her a ring.” You walked away and went over to the landline attached to the wall. Meanwhile, he added an extra handful of pasta to the pot and looked for a bottle of wine in the pantry. Robin was gonna come over, so he'd rather be prepared than have Robin raid the pantry.

He left you two alone in the living room once she came over. Your crying and upset tone was clear, and he didn't want to invade such a private moment. Meanwhile, he sat in the kitchen, occasionally doing the dishes or handing Robin another bottle of red wine. She did eventually raid the pantry, with the words “She needs some chocolate.” In her defense, those always helped when one isn't feeling well.

It was Robin who got you into bed, and Steve had to drive her home since she was winedrunk. He fell asleep on the couch, alone, and worried for you.

A week later, it was time for you to leave once again. You were tying your shoelaces while Steve grabbed his keys and put on his jacket. The silence was loud as you put your bag on your back and placed your hat on your head. This wasn't only the day of deployment, but also the day you and Steve would have to put on the ultimate act and have everyone believe how in love the both of you were. You couldn't even be nervous by yourself.

“Alright, I'm ready.”, you told Steve. He simply nodded and opened the door for you. The walk to his car felt odd, not how it usually felt when you two went to Target, or decided to get three more pillows at TJMaxx. “It's gonna be fine.”, he tried to assure you, but you simply sighted and looked out of the window. Sure, everything will be fine.

The hassle near the busses was overwhelming for Steve. Crying children, couples not wanting to let go, so many kisses and goodbyes. He'll have to do the same, he can't let you down. Steve held your hand as he walked over to your bus with you. “Congratulations.”, one of your higher-ups told the two of you while passing by. Both of you gave a simple smile and “Thank you.”

Both of you shared a tight hug. Even though you didn't have any feelings for him, you needed this. It gave you comfort, reassurance, that everything was gonna be okay. It will be. You'll come home.

“Remember, you're my next of kin now.”, you reminded him once he let go. “If anything happens, call my parents and Robin.” He nodded vigorously. “And we can send e-mails, and I can call you sometimes. You won't be all alone.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he noticed the family standing next to the both of you. “Reach out as soon as you can, okay? Promise?” You nodded before slowlu leaning in for a kiss. This was your first longer kiss since the wedding, but Steve pulled it off well. So did you. It seemed like everyone believed it.

“Oh and.”, you started once the two of you broke the kiss. “Feel free to invite the kids over whenever. Just have them take their shoes off, I like our carpet.” It made him chuckle, knowing that this was not an act. You obsessively loved your baby blue carpet. “It'll be even cleaner when you come back. Promise.” You chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. Just like a real couple, Steve thought. And then, it was time for you to get inside the bus. Sean walked by and said goodbye to Steve as well, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before boarding the bus himself.

Just as you sat down at a window seat with Sean next to you, you hear a “One last time for the newly weds!” from outside. You watched two of your colleagues pick up Steve on their shoulders, having him sit there. God, he looked scared. You opened the upper part of the window to stick your head out and face him. “Sorry.”, you mumbled with a slight chuckle. It was rather amusing. But then, you two kissed once again, followed by cheering of your colleagues and their families.

“Alright, that's enough.”, your platoon sergeant said in a gruff tone. Steve was put down on the ground again, and he waved at you one last time until the bus disappeared around the corner.

A few days passed, he checked his e-mail account every day. Eventually, there was one from you

My sweet husband,

I hope you're holding up well and don't feel lonely at home. We haven't been living together for too long before I had to leave again, so maybe it won't be too bad for you.

For my own part, I miss you a lot. I've gotten so used to falling asleep in your arms that I now find it hard to do so by myself. Especially out here, where everything is so different, I miss the comfort and safety you give me. Living with you were the best 3 months of my life so far, although that might change once we gave kids. By the way, did we ever talk about baby names? I think Valentine and Jade are adorable.

Please make sure my plants are still alive by the time we return. I love you so much, and can't wait to fall asleep in your arms again. And, since you asked before I left: Yes, it is very hot here.

Your wife,

(y/n)

My darling wife,

of course I'll be taking care of your plants until you're back. The orchids are thriving, and always remind me of your beautiful face. Looking after them is helping me pass the time, and I'd never let you down by letting them perish.

Even though we only lived together for a short period of time before you had to leave, it's still hard. Just your presence alone has more of an impact on me than I think you know. Without you, this house isn't a home. I miss seeing you dance in the kitchen, your boots in the hallway, or how you always leave your hairbrush out in the bathroom. Robin got me a calendar to mark off the days until you're back with me, but not having you next to me makes even a minute feel like forever. I can't wait to have you back home with me.

You're right, we never talked about baby names. I think Valentine and Jade are beautiful names. Although, may I suggest Ellie for a girl? It's hard to come up with one for a boy if all I can think about is our future baby having your eyes and smile.

I love you, and I can't wait to hold you again at night.

Your husband,

Steve

He was so smooth with it. With the way this was going, there'd be no way anyone would suspect a thing. Plus, the anxiety of constantly being watched was driving you insane.

Eventually, it was time to call each other. Just to make it more believable, but it would be nice to get news from home in real-time. With a small sigh, you picked up the phone and dialed your landline number.

“Hey honey.”, you hear him chime from the other side of the line. It was odd to have him call you that. That might never change, though. “Hey babe. Can you hear me?” Knowing that both of you are watched, this would have to be as realistic as possible. Although the e-mails were perfect already. But it didn't help much with the odd feeling in Steve's stomach. “Loud and clear, commando.” You giggled at his nickname - this was an actual giggle, because you thought this one was a bit funny. “Still trying to be funny, huh?” There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone. “Always. It's one of my jobs to make you laugh, no?” He was good at this, too good. Maybe even better than you.

Steve wasn't acting anymore, though. Being away from you for so long made his heart ache, and crave just being in your presence.

“One amongst many others.”, you giggled. “How are you holding up?” A few seconds of silence were followed with a “I don't know. Not good. I miss you.” His words were the truth, but you didn't know. To you, he was acting. “I miss you too. But I'll be back before you know it.” Only 20 more days. Then this would all be over, and you'd be back home. As you looked over, you could see Sean trying to conceal his grin while holding a telephone to his ear. He was definitely calling Eddie, and it made you smile.

“Robin may or may not have a Welcome Back party planned. Well, I helped but it was her idea.” You giggled at that. “Are you spoiling my surprise?” Now he chuckled as well. “I said maybe. Plus, I know you don't like big parties. So be warned.” How did he remember? You only mentioned it once. “I'll act surprised. Can't blow your cover, no?” Both of you laughed.

Another week passed. Steve hasn't heard from you in a week, and while he was also worried, he assumed you've gotten busy. He was following the news about what was happening in Iraq, and it looked anything short of easy.

To distract himself, he invited the kids over. It was supposed to be a chill movie night with Dustin, Max and Lucas. And it was for two hours. They got their snacks, ordered pizza, argued over which movie to watch and eventually crashed on the couch to watch said movie.

But then, his phone rang. Who'd call at this hour? Oh wait, what if…

“Hold on, I gotta take this.” Steve looked down at his Nokia with furrowed brows. What was that number? It wasn’t even from the US. Reluctantly and with a pit in his stomach, he got up and walked into the other room.

“Hello?”, he asked.

“Yes, is this Steve Harrington?”, an unknown male voice on the other end of the line asked him. “Yeah.”, Steve mumbled. What was this about?

“This is Corporal Marshall. I'm calling to inform you that your wife has been wounded in combat.” He felt his blood run cold and a shiver creep up his spine at those words. All he could ask was “Is she alive?” Luckily, there was no silence on the other end. “Yes sir, she's alive. Both her legs have been broken. They flew her back to Germany to stabilise her for transport. She's in the process of being flown over to Indianapolis for surgery.” Thank God, you're alive. That's all that mattered for now. Although the fact of both your legs being broken didn't help much. “When will she be here?”, he continued. The corporal gave him exact landing times, how long surgery would take and whatnot. All that mattered is that he knew when you'd be here again.

Once hung up, he realised he'd have to tell your parents. And Robin. Oh God, they'll be so terrified and scared. But you were alive. This could've been a much worse outcome.

Right?

What they told him at the hospital wasn't good, though. “A bomb exploded near her. The rubble hit her lower body. We could find two fractures in her legs. One in her left femur, and one in her right shin bone. She also fractured her hip, and we don't know how severe it is yet. There's some burns and gashes, but those aren't our main concern. We will let you know after surgery.” The infodump overwhelmed him greatly. He'd have to repeat all of this back to you. Explain why you'd be sitting in a wheelchair for months.

“That sounds like a lot of physio and medication.”, he mumbled. The doctor simply nodded. “Both will be vital to her recovery. That is if she can ever walk again, but the first prognosis was good.” If you can walk again? He hasn't known you very long, but he knew how much you loved your independence. This would crush your entire world.

Both your parents and Robin rushed down the hospital hallway to see you. It calmed them down greatly when they didn't see him cry. Your parents thought this was a love marriage, so to them his emotions were crucial. But it didn't help Robin much. “What happened? Is she okay? Where is she?” Steve has to hug her in order for your best friend to not have a nervous breakdown. “She'll be fine. Still alive, and kicking it in surgery.” It calmed her down a bit, but Robin was an anxious person after all. “Deep breaths, come on. You'll both be fine.” She was so scared that you'd die up until this very moment that she kinda forgot how to breathe. “I'll get a coffee with her. She needs some time.”, Steve told your parents. They gave him an understanding nod, and off he went.

“I was so scared, Steve.” She was quiet until the two of them sat down, him with a coffee and her with a hot chocolate. Although those being her first words were expected. “I thought she died, but this might even be worse for her than death.” One thing Steve knew about you from the start was that you loved being independent. You also loved your job, and both these things require working legs. “There's a chance she can walk again.” It wasn't exactly a working attempt of calming her down, Robin tends to get in her head about everything. “And the chances are good. The doctor told me.” He could see Robins trembling hands while taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“Won't she be in a wheelchair? She's gonna hate that…” For once, she wasn't hyper. Well, she wasn't calm either, but at least she wasn't physically freaking out. Alas, none of Steve's attempts to calm her worked out. There would be no way of consulting her until you woke up right in front of her eyes.

Robin watched over you like a hawk as soon as she was able to enter your room. Seeing you hooked up to this many machines, hearing the beeping of your heart and watching your vitals on the monitor, it was horrifying. It was scary. Even more to her than your parents. Eventually, your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh my god, you're alive.”, Robin choked out when she saw you wake up. Your vision was blurry, and your head was spinning as you tried to grasp what was happening. Did you die? You were in combat just a minute ago. How did you end up here? Why couldn't you feel anything from the waist down? Your mouth was so fucking dry, too.

Once you were able to see just a little bit, you saw your parents, Robin and Steve by your bedside. God, so many people. You felt claustrophobic like this. “Go.” All four shared a confused look when they heard you mumble. But you swatting sloppily in your parents and Robins direction was enough. Steve was your first of kin, he'd know the most about what happened.

Once the room was empty, you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. Although this was awkward for Steve. He'd lived with you for barely 3 months before you had to ship out again. How well could you know a person to tell them that their hip and legs were broken?

“Just be honest, Steve.”, you mumbled after seeing his face. There was someone seriously wrong with you, it would explain why you couldn't feel your legs. He took a deep breath in, trying to find the right words. “I didn't understand what really happened. There was an explosion, and some things hit you. Your…left femur is broken, and your right shin bone shattered. Your hip is fractured, and…some burns, and gashes. Anything from the waist down, really.”

“Well, that's inconvenient.”, you mumbled. How was he supposed to react to that? Of course multiple bone fractures are inconvenient. What happened to his original fear of this crushing your world? “Surgery done?” He nodded his head. “Yeah. Your bones are fixed up, and they did a skin graft. The doctors said you might need a follow-up surgery, but they're gonna check and see once you heal a bit.” A growl left your lips as you leaned back into your pillow. This will greatly impact the entire course of your life from now. Will you ever be able to walk again? Work? Run? Have a normal life?

“I don't know if it matters much, I don't understand it a lot, but they said you'll get a purple heart.” You scoffed at his statement, and Steve felt like he said something wrong. “No, no, it's not you. It's…well, a purple heart is a medal you get when you get hurt in combat. Chest candy, really.” To someone outside of the army, that sounded badass. Everyone would know how much of a badass you are just by seeing you in uniform.

But he wouldn't understand the pit in your stomach. How bad it feels that your uniform will be a constant reminder of the pain, the physical therapy, all the treatments and surgery that could go on for months, or even years. “First official army husband appearance for you then. It's a whole thing…I’ll explain later.” Your eyes wandered off to the window on your right. How much you wished to be out there again. But instead, you were hooked to multiple machines while being pumped full of morphine.

“Steve.” Your tone was hushed. “This means this whole thing will get a lot more…intense.” He just gave you a questioning look, although it didn't take him too long to figure out what you were saying. “You'll have to be the doting husband who loves his wife so much, and whatever. But I'll also need help at home for a while, so…yeah.” The two of you got along well before you deployed, but this? Having him shower you? Dress you? That's a whole other thing, and even more intimate than the single night you two spend together. “We can't let anyone know, we just can't risk it. Okay?” He simply nodded at your request. Steve didn't want this to be discovered either. Not only because he wouldn't have health insurance anymore, but also because you just couldn't lose your job over him. You made it very clear how much you loved your job, as exhausting as it can be at times.

“I won't let you down.”, he promised. “But I'll get the others back in. They'll wanna talk to you.” Robin was probably clawing at the door, waiting to see you again. “That's fine. But remember to stay, or at least talk to my doctors.”

Robin was the first to rush back to your side, asking about a million questions as to how you're feeling, if anything hurts or if she could get you any food. “Robin, please. I'll be fine. You know I'm a kickass.” The joke only worked a tiny bit at calming her down. At least you still had your sense of humor.

You had to stay in the hospital for a few days to recover from surgery. Steve made sure to bring you everything you needed and more. Besides your favourite blanket, pillows and childhood stuffed animal, he also got your favourite snacks, drinks and enough entertainment to last you a while. “At least I'll finally get around to reading.”, you commented as he gave you a brand-new copy of The Sun Dog and Letters From Hell. “Yeah, you always seemed too busy for it. I thought you'd like to catch up.” While both books were new, you bought them when they came out. There was just no time to read them. “That's very thoughtful, thank you.” You gave him a smile and put both books on your nightstand. “Also, some sprite and starbursts for you.” He was really sweet to you ever since the incident, more than a faux husband would have to be. You blamed it on him feeling like he owes you for his medical insurance, but he also grew on you since the wedding. Yes, it was for convenience, but you've also become somewhat of friends before you got deployed again. He's probably doing this for any friend who needs it…right?

“You're doing too much.”, you chuckled while taking the sweets out of his hands. He shrugged his shoulders and continued digging in the duffle bag. “I brought this cause…well, you know.” Steve placed a framed picture of the two of you onto your nightstand. After that, also one of you and your parents and one with Robin. “Oh, the Robin one is my favourite.”, you giggled in an attempt to distract. He picked up on it quickly and looked at the graduation photograph of the two of you. “She told me to bring it, apparently it's her favourite as well.” In fact, Robin gifted it to you. She didn't have the biggest fund in the world, but she always made it work. “Yeah. We look great in it, too.” As a last picture, he placed one of you and Sean. It made you smile, but also wonder how he was holding up in the desert.

“You think Eddie could tell me how he's doing?”, you asked Steve. He knitted his brows slightly, then opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Why was he doing that? Why were there no words coming out of his mouth? “Steve?”

“I…I thought…uhm…” Why was he stuttering? “I thought someone told you…” You sat up straight in your bed, despite the agonising pain that brought you, and looked him directly in his eyes. “Told me what?” This turned him into a stuttering mess, but he eventually found his words while looking down at his hands.

“Sean was there with you during the explosion. He…he didn't make it, (y/n)”

It felt like the weight of the entire world just dropped onto you. He was right by your side since you first came to base. Showed you the ropes. Took you under his wing. Now, he's gone.

Forever.

You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Steve handed you a tissue. There was no way you could feel anything, not even sadness. There was just emptiness. As much as you wanted to run away, but your broken legs made it impossible to. You were stuck with this grief monster. “I…I need some time to myself…”, you choked out. Steve simply nodded and left your hospital room.

Besides doctors and nurses checking in on you, you were alone for the remainder of the day. Nothing was fun, or distracted you. No books, no snacks, no favourite pillows. Nothing.

Until Steve was back, with two Happy Meals in hand. “Robin said that would comfort you.” And he was right. Every time you or Robin were going through a hard time, you got a Happy Meal. It gave you childhood nostalgia and reminded you of better times. “Thank you.”, you said while sitting up somehow. Steve was immediately by your side and helped you. He truly became a kind person. In an attempt to distract yourself, you asked “What was your favourite Happy Meal toy as a kid?” But he looked a bit confused. “I never had one before.”, he simply stated. “A toy?” You gave him a confused look while opening your box. Just as you liked it, there was fries, a cheeseburger, orange juice and sliced apples, along with a plastic bag containing a dinosaur toy. “You never had a Happy Meal?”, you asked in disbelief. Steve simply shook his head no. “My parents said it's poor people food, so I never had any.”

“Raised on truffles and caviar, huh?”, you joked while watching him open his box. The joy on his face could be described as that of a child. Somewhere deep inside of Steve, there was still a little boy who just had a wish become true. And he looked even more excited when he took out the small plastic dinosaur. “Hey, you have a triceratops! That's my favourite!” You showed him the velociraptor from your Happy Meal. “That's my favourite!”, Steve said with a chuckle. Without having to say anything, you traded your dinosaurs. And for just a few minutes, you two weren't a fraudulent couple ripping off the state while you were in hospital for severe leg injuries. You two were little kids, exchanging their toys and eating a cheeseburger. Both of your inner children healed a bit that day.

Eventually, you could go back home. Well, going might be exaggerated. You went home in a wheelchair, pushed by Steve while you had your belongings in a bag on your lap. While you were glad to go home and not stare at the sterile, white wall all day, it was still weird. “I'll carry you wherever you have to go.”, Steve promised in the car. “Seriously, whatever you need help with, I'll be there.

He was serious. When you told him you'd rather lay down and calm from the high your painkillers gave you in your own bed, he carried you upstairs like a princess. He brought you food, water, VHS, anything you asked for.

Two days later, you started feeling filthy. Admittedly, you only did basic washing with a washcloth and haven't put on a different outfit since you came back, besides your underwear. But that already put you in pain while putting them on. You needed help getting dressed.

“Steve?”, you yelled from your bedroom. It didn't take him long to run up the stairs and stand in your doorframe. “What is it?”, he asked. His worried look relaxed when he saw you with just some clothes in your hands. “I, uhm…need help putting on pants…it's kinda, well…” He gave you a soft smile. lifted you out of your wheelchair and onto your bed. It would make it much easier. “I hope this is okay…I don't want you to think I'm gawking.” You only chuckled and handed him your sweatpants. “You saw it already, I don't care. I just wanna put on some fresh clothes.”

It humoured you how Steve tried his best to look away while pulling down your old underwear and getting you into new ones. He wasn't this shy when he buried his face between your thighs on your wedding night. “It's okay to look.”, you reminded him again, but it was to no avail. He even looked a little awkward when he touched your butt while pulling up your underwear. “Are they on?” You chuckled at that question. “Very much.” Finally, he looked at you again before getting your sweatpants on. This time, he looked at what he was doing. “Thank you.”, you said once all set, done and back in your wheelchair.

This became somewhat of a routine over the next few days. Eventually, the day came where you were to be handed your new medal. Chest candy, as you called it. He's going to have to get used to the military lingo.

It felt a bit weird, for the both of you, to get you back into your army service uniform. You wore it on your wedding day, but it felt different to see you in it now. It was weird when you were in a wheelchair. He could tell that you felt the same way, based on your disdained face. “It'll be over faster than you'd think.”, he said in an attempt to make you feel better. “And we can get anything you wanna eat after.” That didn't seem to help either, though. He didn't know you enough to tell what would and wouldn't cheer you up. This definitely didn't.

You were embarrassed like this. In uniform, about to see so many higher-ups that were in combat, that came home with minimal injuries, earned medals, are heroes. And you get taken out by a building. Some rubble. How pathetic.

“I'll get you to the car, come on.” It was even more embarrassing that he had to carry you downstairs and into the car. All while in uniform. How humiliating.

While Steve was getting your wheelchair into the back of his car, you quietly sat in the passenger seat and fiddled with your fingers. Ever since coming home from the hospital, this was the first time Steve had to drive you somewhere. You missed driving, or more so using your legs to do anything.

You don't remember much from the ceremony. What you remembered was that Steve helped you on stage, how you shook someones hand and got a pin to your chest. Physically you attended, but not mentally. You didn't want this. Nobody wants a purple heart. Yet you smiled for the camera, to fake how proud you were. There was nothing to be proud of.

You mentally checked back in when Steve went through the McDonalds drive-through and placed a Happy Meal on your lap. A Muppet Baby smiled at you from a small slit in the bag. “Thank you.”, you mumbled. He had you eat it on your way back.

“I'm really exhausted.”, you sighed as Steve helped you get inside the house. He thought of a few ways to help you, but most were likely just from the distress of the whole situation. “Do you wanna take a bath?”, he asked. You thought about his suggestions for a whole, knowing it would include him stripping you naked and having to help wash you. Basically being by your side, your nude body, all the time. This felt so different than just being dressed by him. He could look away while pulling up your underwear, but not this time.

“Sure.”, you decided. It's not like he never saw you naked. There was a wedding night, after all. Or at least something like that. Steve picked you up from your wheelchair and carried you upstairs into your bathroom. The bathtub was big, giving enough space for two people, and there was a collection of bath salts standing right by it. He never got to see your bathroom until now, since he used the one downstairs. The shower was enough for him. Steve sat you down on the closed toilet while getting the bath ready for you. He carefully chose the bath salts for you, lavender for relaxation and a mix of herbs for your muscles. Just by carrying you he could feel how tense you were.

He was awkward while taking your clothes off and putting you in the warm water, but this time he couldn't look away. Unfortunately, it was hard not to stare. You were just too beautiful. But this wasn't about his feelings, this was about doing what would make you feel better, and if that was a warm bath he'd be damned if he made it uncomfortable for you. “Thank you, Steve.”, you mumbled after he set you in and you got comfortable. Letting your legs float in the water was the best thing imaginable right now. “Call me if you need anything.” But you didn't want him to leave. Why?

“Can you stay?” He stopped deaf in his tracks at your words and slowly turned back around. It was almost like in a movie. “Are…are you sure?”, he stuttered. As a reply, you patted the edge of the bathtub. You were sure. “If we had some wine now, we could almost call this a date.” Neither of you expected this to come out of your mouth, yet it did. So you just gave him a wide-eyed look, like a deer stuck in headlights. “I…I mean, I…uh…”

“You shouldn't be drinking, you know that.”, Steve reminded you. Thank God he redirected the conversation. “Maybe we can find some alcohol free ones.”, you replied with a smirk while leaning back. He just chuckled. “I think we eventually need to talk about how much wine you consume.”, Steve joked. As a reply, you slapped a few droplets of water on his leg. He gave you an offended look, but remained seated. “Okay, rude.”, he said with laughter laced in his voice. “If you're this mean before, how will you be after physio?” Even though he mentioned your inability to walk, you didn't mind in this context. It was funny. “I can take you down with my pinky, that's for sure.” Now it was his turn to laugh.

You did physio by yourself. Steve drove you, got you inside and all that, but you did everything by yourself. You couldn't be this vulnerable in front of him. In the meantime, he got groceries, cleaned the car or even bought you small gifts like a new pillow or a nice necklace. He got more creative with it every day, and he saw that it made you happy. At some point, he started making origami stars while waiting in the car and gave you one for every session you did. That's what kept you going, and that's also what made butterflies appear in your stomach.

But all that happiness shattered into pieces the day before Sean's funeral. You could barely sleep the night before and were not ready to get up that morning.

“I don't wanna go.”, you mumbled as Steve already pulled out your dress uniform. He made sure all your medals looked prim and proper on your jacket. “You know who you're doing this for.”, he reminded you. Unfortunately, he was right. You thought you could ignore this grief, but knowing Sean's parents, little sister and Eddie were expecting you, you let Steve help you out of bed. Just like with the medal ceremony, he helped you get into your dress uniform and got you into your wheelchair.

The entire ride was quiet. To be honest, you dreaded facing his grieving family. They took you in so many times when you simply couldn't stand seeing your own family and friends. He even gave you his favourite bracelet, a black and red cord bracelet his sister made him before his first deployment. Maybe he knew his fate. But right now, you had it on your wrist. To honour Sean, and to give Eddie later.

The drive to the graveyard was quiet. Being in uniform while being pushed in a wheelchair was still humiliating, but you've gotten used to it by now.

You knew the procedures of a military funeral. The speech, the gunfire, folding the flag. You'd be standing there and folding it with them if you could stand on your own. But you couldn't. You only broke your legs, but he was lying dead in a casket. For the first time, some kind of guilt overcame you. And you couldn't even give a last respect with a standing salute. Or so you thought.

“Steve, hold me up.”, you whispered to him. He was reluctant at first, but eventually put one arm around your stomach and another under your armpit to hold you upright. And that's how you saluted to Sean one last time.

Eddie stayed longer than everyone else. He put on a brave face and didn't cry the entire time, but once everyone left, he broke down. Ugly sobbs left his mouth as he kneeled by his boyfriends grave. The worst part was that nobody knew. They barely told Sean's family about their relationship, maybe his sister at best, and it didn't feel right to tell them now. Steve pushed your wheelchair towards Eddie and let you two be alone.

Quietly, you patted his back as he let all his emotions out. This wasn't the first time he cried due to his boyfriends death, and it won't be the last. Maybe this was the first time he got comfort for it. You didn't know if he told his uncle. After a while, he glanced over to you while trying his best to hide his face behind his hair. It didn't work much. You removed the bracelet from your wrist and held it out for him to take.

“He gave me this…like 2 days before it happened.”, you said. “I think he knew…and I also think he'd want you to have this.” With shaking hands, Eddie took the bracelet from you. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Eddie, I've never been surer of anything in my life. Take it from me, I got married to Steve after just a week.” It made him laugh a bit, maybe his first laugh in weeks. “Yeah. You're still crazy for that.” Without asking, not that you minded, he sat down on the ground and leaned his head against the side of your wheelchair. Steve stood fat away, yet still watched the two of you. This may be the start of a beautiful friendship, despite the unfortunate circumstances.

A week after the funeral, Robin and Steve picked you up from physio together. When Steve rolled you out, you spotted Robin with a dog by her side.

“Robin, did you get a dog?”, you asked with a surprised tone as you watched her walk up to Steve and you with a dog next to her. It was a beautiful one, a golden retriever with perfectly brushed fur and a wide grin. Or as much as dogs can grin. “Not quite. He's for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“He's a service dog. Since you don't like help from humans, we thought you'd take a dog. His name's Charlie, and he's yours now.” Robin gave you no choice and handed you the leash, basically pressing it into your hand. “Why would you get me a dog without asking? And who's we?” Steve scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling caught. Robin, however, didn't care. “You need to accept help. And since you don't want us to, he will. He can open cabins, grab you your meds, get you a blanket. He can even alert Steve when his blood sugar is low.” You scoffed and let the leash fall out of your hands. “Then let him have it. I don't need a damn dog.” Charlie went on to grab his leash with his mouth and try to hand it back to you. It was actually a bit impressive that he knew how to do that.

“You need help. Everyone does, but right now you do. And if you keep being an ass about it, you will never get better.” Steve gave Robin a wide-eyed look at her words. He wouldn't even dream of talking to you that way. But the friendship between the two of you was different than his towards you. “You're a real bitch, Robin.”, you grumbled before taking the leash again. “Hi Charlie.” The dog jumped up on your legs and started licking your face. It made your best friend laugh, and even your faux husband had to stifle his giggles. “See Steve, that's why I hate the wheelchair.” That was basically his final straw to burst out laughing. He had a beautiful laugh when it was genuine, you didn't mind it. Admittedly, you've put him through hell in the last few weeks. Maybe some weird part of you desperately wanted to hate him. The past would never be erased; you were scared he was still King Steve in some way. But he wasn’t. That part of him was in the past and stayed there.

“Alright, alright, let's get him home. I need a nap anyways.” And so it was. Charlie enjoyed the open window in the backseat while you were actually happy about not driving for once. “I have to admit, he's cute.”, you said while watching your new dog through the rear view mirror. There was a big grin on his lips as you said that. “Knew you'd like him.”, he teased, still grinning. It made you laugh a bit. “Careful with that tone, Harrington.”

At home, Steve helped you get on the couch. Like he just knew, Charlie grabbed you a blanket and threw it down next to you. “Smart boy.”, you cooed while scratching him behind his ear. After getting cuddled in, Charlie laid down next to the sofa. “Sleep well, I'll be in the kitchen!”, Steve told you before turning the corner.

A few days later, when Steve picked you up from physio, he watched you come back out walking on crutches. Immediately, he stepped out of his car to take a closer look. “What's going on here?”, he asked with a huge grin. You had a matching one on your face. “I wanted to surprise you!” Charlie trotted along next to you as your steps got closer to him. “One legs is all good, just my left leg is still wonky.” He helped you getting inside the car, and for some odd reason, today it made your heart flutter when he helped you inside the car. “Thank you.”, you husked, not noticing the red hue on your cheeks. But Steve noticed, and replied “Any time, Commando.” with a smug smirk.

You kept going to physio. Getting your ability to walk again was your ultimate goal, after all. Every day, you told Steve how much progress you made but kept one thing secret. It was a surprise you'd reveal in a few days.

Today was the day.

“Hey Steve!”, you yelled from the living room. Since he became somewhat of a close friend, it was a given you'd have to surprise him with your newly learned skill. So you stood up, without the crutches, and waited for him to come in. “Everything okay in he-” He cut off the second he saw you walk a few steps by yourself with a wide grin on your face. “See, I can do it again.” Unfortunately, you wobbled a bit and he quickly made his way over to catch you. But that didn't falter your spirit once. “Those were seven steps! Did you see that?” Your joy could be compared to that of a child.

“When did you learn how to do that?! That was amazing!” When you looked up and saw the matching grin on his face, a funny feeling spread in your stomach. You blamed it on the excitement you felt from walking so many steps. “Physio! It's helping so much! I'll outrun you again in no time.” Even Charlie caught up on the excitement and started jumping on your leg. Steve helped you sit down on the couch before plopping down next to you. “Those weren't baby steps, those were big girl steps.”, he joked. It made you chuckle, happy to have someone to share the excitement with. “I'm taking women's steps again soon enough. Oh, and then I can put on my pretty heels again! The things I could wear.”

In that moment, it showed Steve why he fell for you. The pure joy you showed him, how much you shared, that he made you so happy. There wasn't nothing better than being one of the few people to see you this happy.

Your excitement only grew from that day. Seven steps became nine, and nine became 15. The day you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom again without any help might have been the happiest day of your life. Even though there was the slightest pain coming from your hips, that didn't matter. You gained back your independence, and it made you ecstatic.

Steve, however, grew very protective of you. Not because he wanted to keep you dependent, but because he was anxious something might happen that could make you end up in the wheelchair again.

Slowly, he grew more fearful each day you took another step, while you got more annoyed each day.

It started with understandable things, like getting things for you you'd have to bend down for. That still was very painful for you, so you were somewhat grateful even though that's what Charlie could've done. Then, he started reaching for cabins despite the fact you could reach them. That's when the anger started growing inside you. You could reach upwards, you wanted to. But you tried brushing it off, knowing he might just have to get used to you being independent again. And then, the doting started. From asking you if you need help in the bathroom, to trying to help you get dressed. He wasn't even this protective when you were incapable of walking, why did this start now? It's not like he ever told you, or gave you a good reason. Eventually, just being in the same room as Steve made you wanna throw a plate at his face.

As a pick-me-up, you decided to bake your favourite treat: Cinnamon rolls. And you'd do it all by yourself. At least you thought you would.

“Let me do it.”, Steve said while grabbing the cinnamon from the shelf. You took a sharp breath in, caused by your annoyance. Why wouldn't he let you do anything by yourself? Just one single thing. You could walk again for the most part, your doctors cleared you. Steve wouldn't even let you make cinnamon rolls by yourself. “Thanks.”, you grumbled while taking the spice from his hands.

Next step was getting a bowl. Bending down was still hard, but Charlie was already opening the cabin to grab it for you. However, Steve got in the way and grabbed it first. “There you go.” The smile on his face fucking infuriated you. That's the kind of thing he and Robin got Charlie for you. Why can't he just let him work? “He had it.”, you said while taking the bowl and setting it down. “Just…wanna help.”, he mumbled. A small nod and huff was your response.

Alright, you'd just need to measure flour now. But did Steve have to be this close the entire time? He was basically breathing down your neck. And when his hand went to grab the flour from yours, you snapped.

“Will you fucking stop!?” The scream didn't even sound like it came out of your own body. It made him flinch and look at you with a slightly scared face. “I-I'm trying to help...”, he stuttered. That just made it worse. “I don't need help! I can fucking do it by myself!” The bag of flour in your hand flew through the kitchen and exploded once it hit the wall. You don't even remember throwing it. “Leave me the fuck alone! Stop treating me like a child!” That's what infuriated you the most; that he made you feel like a little kid. “I'm not…” Steve's voice was barely above a whisper, and he looked terrified. “Yes you are, Steve! I'm not your fucking daughter, I'm a grown woman who went to war in Iraq and had both her legs broken!” At this point, your throat was burning from screaming. Maybe it was also because you held back your tears; until you didn't.

You went to war in Iraq and had both your legs broken.

Finally, your voice died down. “Fuck…” You leaned against the kitchen counter and hid your face in your hands. It was a dumb idea, he could see your entire body shake as the pent-up tears left your eyes. You haven't cried once since you were first injured. Not when you got your diagnosis, not when you watched your parents and Robin cry at your bedside, not when you came home in a wheelchair. But this? That was one too much.

Steve watched you slide down against the kitchen counter. He knew that was your kryptonite. If your knees were on or above your hip level, you couldn't get up again without aid. But he couldn't help you. You made that clear. And it hurt him so much. Steve saw you at your most vulnerable, helped you to walk again, dressed you, washed you. But that wasn't actually your most vulnerable. This was. And this time, he couldn't help you.

“Do you think I wanted this? Do you think anyone actually wants a purple heart?” Considering he never knew much about any sort of military life, that never went through his head. How much does it have to mess with your head to receive a medal for being injured? Why did he never, not even once, think about how it must be to live inside your head right now. The scars on your body were visible, but not the ones on your heart. Maybe that's why he never realised that the emotional pain must be worse than the physical one. He couldn't see it.

“I got both my legs and hip broken, and all I got was chest candy and a shitty skin graft.” Your crying turned into laughter as you laid down on the kitchen floor. It was covered in flour, which landed in your hair and on your skin. “I'm going fucking insane, Steve.”, you laughed out. “And don't even try to help me now. I will take you down, you asshole.” He couldn't do anything but slowly back out of the kitchen. Charlie laid down next to you and watched your every move, or lack thereof. Your dog was the only help you'd accept right now, and that was only because Charlie didn't know any better. Helping you was what he was trained to do, and at least he didn't keep telling you what you can and can't do.

You stayed like this for hours. Steve occasionally glanced into the kitchen, seeing if you were okay. He couldn't fully see you most of the time because Charlie kept getting on and off your chest. But if he didn't hear you breathe, he would've thought you were dead. That's how stiff you were laying on the ground. Three hours in, he was pacing around the living room while thinking of anything to help you. But there was nothing he could do. He fully believed your threat, knew that even with a funky hip you’d overpower him.

After passing by the kitchen again, he stopped at the phone attached to the wall a few feet from the door. Steve was about to grab it and dial Robin's number when he heard you talk to Charlie. “I'm deformed, Char. Have you seen my legs? They're fucking hideous.” The chuckle that left your mouth didn't even sound human. “Skin graft is gonna work, they said. Good as new. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

He hated the way you talked about yourself. Those scars showed your bravery. There was nothing more beautiful than that. How much he wished you could see your scars the way he did. But he decided against calling Robin. He'd have to deal with this by himself.

While getting his clothes for sleeping from your bedroom an hour later, he watched Charlie get your blanket and drag it out. Before he could even properly check what he was up to, he ran back in to get your pillow. Was he bringing them to you? After getting dressed, he decided to check in on you one last time.

Charlie made you a little bed on the flour-covered kitchen floor. He even grabbed Steve's blanket from the living room so you'd have something to lay on. Unbeknownst to you, your fraud husband risked sweating all night and turned up the thermostat so you wouldn't be cold. The floor you picked was probably the worst one to sleep on. He heard your service dog open a cabin, followed by the rattling of your pain killers.

Maybe he has been doing too much. You could walk again, take baths by yourself, grab things from the shelf. Steve got so caught up in wanting to show how grateful he was for you that he unintentionally became ungrateful for you being alive. Everything he helped you with for months you could do again. In all technicalities, as long as you didn't fall, you didn't need him anymore. If the bomb never went off, you would've never needed him at all. But he needed you. First for your TRICARE, and now…just you.

While you were snoring on the kitchen floor, Steve tried to sleep on the couch. But he simply could. He fell in love with you; now he had to helplessly watch you sleep on the floor and refuse any help. Every hour, he got up and went in to check on you just to see you sleep while cuddled up to Charlie. It didn't change, except the side you were sleeping on.

With any luck, Steve got two hours of sleep in before getting up and seeing what you were up to again. By now, your eyes were open and you tried to grasp onto anyone to get back up. You were also incredibly drowsy from your pain killers, like every morning.

“Can I help?”, Steve reluctantly asked. Your half-closed eyes met his, and you hummed in agreement. He picked you up, princess style, and carried you to the couch. Charlie followed after him, but neither of you knew why he followed this closely. “Thank you.”, you mumbled while trying to fight the drowsiness. “It's okay”, he husked while laying you down on the couch. It's not that you needed more sleep, but after a night on the floor you needed this.

As he got back up, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him. Charlie started barking like crazy and tried to move him to get his insulin. When was the last time he ate? “Steve, sit down.” Suddenly, you were up again and hurrying around the house. Where did this sudden energy come from? Like you instantly sobered up. As told, he plopped down on the couch and started breathing heavily. You were rushing to get his glucose meter and insulin, which he luckily all kept together in a pouch.

He didn't even have to show you what to do. You just did, like you were getting commands from your head. “How'd you know?”, he mumbled with his head rested against the wall behind the couch. You just shushed him while working on getting him his insulin.

Once all set and done, you sat down next to him. “How long until it kicks in?” Now he was the drowsy one Charlie got a blanket for. “20 minutes.” You nodded while laying down with him, arms wrapped around his torso for some warmth. It must be scary…like it was scary for you to not be able to walk anymore. “It's gonna be fine.”, you kept mumbling, although unsure if you said it to him or yourself.

This was Steve's heaven. Laying with his head on your chest, feeling your warmth, your arms being so tight around him. He'd do anything to get used to this. “What can I do?”, he mumbled in a sleepy tone. You made a questioning “Hm?” sound and looked down slightly. “To not dote over you so much.” A sigh left your mouth. You barely remembered what happened last night, for some reason. But there was a lot of screaming, crying and apparently wasted flour. “Just…let me do things by myself. Or at least ask if I need help.” Steve hummed in response. That wasn't a hard task, although that was easier said than done. “Okay.”, he mumbled. Finally, his shaky hands found your waist and held on. This time, you didn't mind in the slightest. It didn't even feel as alien-ish as the last few times did, whenever you had to pretend in public. This was a private moment, and it felt…good. Why? Why did Steve Harrington make you feel butterflies?

“Thanks for asking, Steve.”, you whispered. He remained quiet, taking his time to breathe in your scent, feel your warmth and listen to your heartbeat. It was fast right now. But it helped him calm down and feel better. Eventually, the dizziness stopped and he was able to feel like himself again.

“Better?”, you mumbled. He nodded yes, but still hung onto you. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” After everything you put him through yesterday, some comfort is the least you could do. Besides…you didn't mind this. It felt good. Like it was meant to be. “Of course. Anything you need.”

Steve bullied you. He made high school a living hell for you. You dreaded school every morning because of him. And yet here he was, cuddled up in your arms like you were the life he held onto. Steve was also just a scared boy who went through too much, and now has to deal with a potentially deadly illness. Being him must be scary right now. And what was worse is that there were damn butterflies in your stomach. You were falling for him, and it was happening fast. Besides, he really redeemed himself. Robin was right; he changed.

Slowly, Steve fell asleep in your arms. You weren't aware that he barely slept all night because of his worries. Not until much later, at least. But right now, no amount of flour in your hair or butterflies in your stomach mattered. All that you cared about right now was to make him feel safe, and cared for. He took good care of you when you couldn't walk, even if he overdid it, so this is the least you could do.

Soft snores escaped his mouth as he slept on top of you. But his death grip didn't change. He held on for dear life.

You stayed like this for a while. In fact, it was so comfortable that you fell asleep yourself with Charlie next to the couch. But waking up with him still on top of you…it felt right. Like you are meant to be here just like this. Nobody ever made you feel like this before.

“Good morning.”, Steve mumbled when he slowly woke up. His eyes scanned the room, assessed the situation he was in and came to the conclusion that this was the best nap he's ever taken. With you as his pillow? Hardly anything can top that.

That morning changed everything about the dynamic between you two. You craved each other's warmth, the comfort, feeling near to someone. It only took 2 more days until you started sleeping in the same bed. That was when you admitted to having feelings for him, which wasn't easy but happened. It was genuinely insane to you, how a fraudulent marriage could turn into a real one.

It became crystal-clear one night.

“Can I ask you something?”, Steve started. You looked over with a half-mouth full of pizza. “Hmm?” The tone was muffled due to your mouth being full. It made him chuckle, especially when he saw a string of melted cheese coming out. Even like this, you gave him butterflies.

“What do you want from your future?”

That was honestly a tough one for you. Join the army, that was the plan for years. And what comes after? You never considered. While chewing and swallowing, you took your time to think of an answer. “I don't know.”, you finally said. “Marriage, kids…well, I didn't plan to get married like this, but you know…” Steve was a bit surprised that you didn't have a whole plan. You always seemed so ready for everything. “What about you?” At this moment, you realized you never asked him what he wanted in life.

“Marriage, but I didn't plan on it this way either.” Another chuckle left his lips. “And kids. 6 little Harringtons.” You gave him a raised eyebrow.

“I don't know if I can do that.”

You didn't mean to say it like this. In fact, you didn't want to admit your feelings ever. This was purely business. Or was it?

“What do you mean?” He sat up straight from his slouched position, like Charlie when he saw a piece of bacon. “I…I don't…uhm…” You fumbled over your words, which was a hard thing to get you to. But it was perfect for Steve.

“Do you…”, he didn't need to finish his sentence, because you interrupted him. “I do, okay? The vows were a lie back then, but they're real now. And I really, really don't care what you say now, but I know how you treat me.” It was true. That's how he shows you how he likes you. It was an open secret.

“I wasn't gonna deny it.”, he said. His tone was quiet, yet serious. How did he manage to always make your knees weak? “You…I started developing feelings a long time ago. I can't tell you when, but it was clear when you showed me your first steps.” That was so long ago. And he didn't back down once? That's true love?

“Do you think our marriage could be real?”, he finally asked. Against all his expectations, you giggled and cuddled up to him. Like an instinct, his fingers started tracing up and down your spine carefully. “I think so. Do you?” His fingers stopped their movements, they rested on your hips and held on tight. “I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't hoping for it.”

For the first time ever, a man made you feel like a schoolgirl in love. You haven't deemed it possible, but there you were. In Steve Harrington's arms, feeling safe and secure. Knowing he liked you despite your PTSD, your scars, your temper. And now, maybe even love you. How beautiful was that?

“So, what does that make us now?” It was a no-brainer to you. “We're married already, no? How about we drop the act and are…actually married. Husband and wife. I'll even take your last name.” That last sentence made him pull back a bit and look you in the eyes. There was not a hint of doubt behind them. You were 100% serious. “I'd like that. A lot, actually.”

Like an instinct, Steve pulled you in for a kiss. This one was so much different than the one you two had at the courthouse almost a year ago. Back then, it was all an act. Now, it was real, it was passionate with so much love behind it. So real that it got extremely heated and your hands traveled underneath his shirt. Your husband broke the kiss and looked at you.

“Can you…uhm…” The awkwardness was apparent. How do you ask someone Is your hip healed well enough to thrust into you like a madman? But it was actually really sweet to you. He cared so much…and you pushed him away for so many months. “I'm cleared for everything, Steve.”, you giggled. That was good enough for him, and he happily let you slide his shirt over his head.

The following morning, you woke up next to him. The last time that happened, you two were just getting tension out. Now, this was for love. Actual love. Plus, seeing his sleeping form wasn't anxiety inducing like it used to be after your makeshift-wedding night. It was so lovely. His lips were slightly parted, and small snores left his mouth while the sun hit his gorgeous face. Your hand reached out to stroke a strand of hair back, but it made his eyelids flutter. “Good morning.”, you mumbled once Steve's gaze found yours. His brown eyes looked so beautiful in the sun, even if he knitted his brows from being blinded. “Morning, sweetheart.” Fuck, was his raspy morning voice always this attractive? If it was up to you, he could take you again right now. “Can we invest in some good blinds?”, Steve mumbled while hiding his face underneath the blanket. It made you giggle and join him in the little ford he built. “This is so much more fun though, no?” While you couldn't see him well, his chuckle made you aware he was right in front of you. “It would be, if the air wouldn't get so bad.” He heard you giggle, and it was like music to his ears. “I like to think I take your breath away just fine.” That was true, Steve thought. You were about the most beautiful, intelligent and kickass wife he could've asked for. “I think I can make yours hitch, if you let me.”

And you did.

Weeks later, Steve decided to propose. For real, this time. Both of you agreed to get married in church, and you didn't ask nor expect a proposal. You two were married already. But not on Steves watch.

He planned all of it carefully, with so many details and some help from Robin. You were already wondering why he started building a gazebo in the backyard, but put it off as decor. After all, he was truly living with you now. He has every right to make himself comfortable. Plus, he got butterflies all over again when you brought him something to drink while he was working on it.

But his actual motive was to propose to you, right in that gazebo. He liked the idea of having the place he proposed to you where the two of you lived. And he can always take it with him if you move; it'll never be gone.

Steve was gloating once it was finished. He showed you all the little details he included, why he put them there and lastly the golden platter drilled in the center railing. Mrs & Mr Harrington, with the date of your church wedding. Honestly, that already felt like a proposal to you and you gave him many kisses on the spot.

Robin took you to get your nails and hair done the next day. It was one of her spontaneous ideas, and blamed it on her having a date later that day, but not wanting to do the whole cosmetics thing by herself. Steve gave the both of you money for it. You were still unsuspecting of everything. Only when Robin tried to nudge you into shades like baby pink or classic french tips instead of the blue glitter you actually wanted was when you started questioning her motives. After a long discussion, you agreed on baby pink with some rhinestones.

It continued at the hair salon. She insisted you should get your hair curled, even though you didn't really feel like it. Plus, why should you? You didn't have to go on that date with her. “I haven't seen you in curls since high school. They looked good, they'd still look great now!” Right, you thought, that seems fair enough. And they'd be out by tomorrow anyways. So you agreed on curls.

While Robin's behaviour was rather weird, you didn't question it. Robin was weird. Always has been. That's why you loved her so much. “I need a pep talk from Steve before tonight, can I come in with you?” Of course she could. Nobody gives first date pep talks better than Steve. And while Robin suspiciously walked behind you, nothing that was about to happen would have occurred to you.

There were rose petals laid out on the floor, marking a way to the backyard. Robin was grinning like an idiot, and somehow now held a camera in her hands. “What's going on?”, you asked.

“Just walk.”, she insisted. So you did, until you were met by Steve in your backyard. He looked prim and proper, in a white button-up shirt and black pants. The grin on his face was borderline idiotic, but you immediately understood what was going on.

“Steve, what the fuck?”, you said under laughter. It was due to disbelief. You told him you didn't expect him to propose again, and you truly didn't think he would. But there he was, taking your left hand in his and placing a kiss on your forehead. Steve took a deep breath in before starting to talk. “(y/n), I didn’t expect any of this- when we got married. It was just paperwork, a signature- just to save my life.” You were already getting teary eyed at that alone. To think that this is how it started was genuinely insane. “You’ve trusted me to see you in your most vulnerable state after returning from Iraq, having to learn how to stand on your own again. Dealing with pain most people would collapse under. But I got to be there every step of the way, even if you didn’t want me there at some points. It was the biggest honor of my life. And then you let me see you put yourself back together.” His gaze never left yours, seeing the pure love in his eyes and a small, teary glaze over them. You could feel how his hand was getting shaky, and so was his breath.

“I didn’t expect to fall in love with you when we first agreed on this. Honestly, I never even expected you to love me back. But here I am, standing in front of you like some big sap, asking you if we can do this for real this time. No loopholes. No pretending.” Both of you chuckled a bit, despite your ugly crying, and you could hear a small giggle from Robin who was taking pictures like a pro. Steve reached into his back pocket and got down on one knee.

“So, will you marry me again? Because this time we want to? Because we love each other- because I love you more than I thought was even possible.” At this point, you were crying like a small child. Robin captured every second of it with her camera, including your ugly crying. “Of course I'll marry you.”, you sobbed. After placing the ring on your finger, the actual ring, Steve got up to wipe your tears away and kiss you. Not for a second did he care about your running mascara or snotty nose. All he wanted was to kiss you until you couldn't breathe.

“Didn't think I could make you cry like this.”, he whispered against your lips before kissing you once again. You giggled into the kiss with a small huff. After everything that happened, this was perfect.

When the excitement and hassle calmed down and Robin drove back home, you and Steve were cuddled up on the couch. Not once have you wanted to let go of him today, so now you held onto him with a cobra-like grip. Not that he minded, he never would. “Did I tell you Robin made the cake topper already?”, he randomly asked. You looked up at him with a questioning look, wondering what he was on about. The two of you chose one weeks ago already. After a bit of pouting from you, he got up and disappeared in your bedroom, then came back with a little box in his hands. Once he sat back down next to you, and you went full cobra on him again, he showed you the contents of said box.

The two McDonalds toy dinosaurs were dressed up in wedding clothes. His velociraptor in a tuxedo, and your triceratops in a wedding dress. As funny as it looked, it also summed up your relationship; two idiots, who are absolutely in love with each other and healed each other's inner wounds.

“I like these more than the one we originally chose.”, you giggled. “Can we still return the other one?” Steve gave you a kiss on the lips with a smirk on his face.

“We can do anything you want, baby.”

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your 5-year olds legs ran as fast as they could carry her once you walked through the gate. A 6-month deployment felt like 6 years, now that you had three kids and a husband to come home to. She jumped up into your arms without thinking twice. “Hi baby.”, you giggled before showering her face in kisses. A giggle escaped her lips. While Jocelyn was in your arms, your 3-year old, Sean, wriggled out of his father's grasp to run up to you as well. At this point, you kneeled down to hug both of your kids. “I missed you guys so much.”, you told them while holding back tears. They'll come out later.

Steve was last to come up to you, with your 8-month old daughter Valerie in a baby carrier strapped to his chest. He patiently waited for his turn to kiss you, knowing that your two older kids have not stopped talking about seeing you again for weeks. With one kid on each hand, you stood back up and leaned in to kiss your husband. Finally, for the first time in 6 months.

“I missed you.”, he whispered against your lips, then kissed you again. And again. And again. “Eww!”, Jocelyn said while pulling a face. That's what made you two seperate. “To be continued.”, you whispered to Steve before leaning down to kiss Valerie on the top of her head. “You're so big, Val.”, you mumbled, a bit saddened. It wasn't fun to not see her grow up, especially when she was still a baby. Steve saw your saddened expression and immediately tried to change the mood. “How about McDonalds, yeah?”, he suggested. There was no way you'd stay sad when seeing your kids grin, and their soon-to-be smeared faces. “Happy Meal!”, Sean squealed in excitement.

Being away sucked, but seeing their faces when you returned showed you that they didn't love you any less.

[mono-blogs-art]

The Loyal Pin - Lesbian Period Drama Royalty

Stunning cinematography, a color-coded love story, and an overall excellent production made "The Loyal Pin" a highlight. For the past few months, I've been obsessed. Here's my full review with a spoiler-free version first and a deeper cut down below!

Summary: Overall: 9/10 - this is a must-watch, if you're into the genre. Genre: Period Drama, Historical Romance Watch if you are looking for... : A slow-paced childhood-friends-to-lovers story, beautiful and vibrant camera work, a highly dramatic romance with a happy ending! Watch out for... : period-accurate homophobia and misogyny, and overall ridiculous drama shenanigans Length: 16 episodes averaging about 60 minutes each Where to watch: Idolfactory Youtube Channel, the whole show is officially subbed in multiple languages and free to watch!

Adapted from author Monmaw's original novel "ปิ่นภักดิ์" (pinphak; The Loyal Pin) and directed by Kittisak "Fuse" Cheewasatjasakun, the series stars "Freen" Sarocha Chankimha and Becky Armstrong, who rose to sapphic fame after the roaring success of Idolfactory's 2022 lesbian drama "GAP the series". Now the acting duo is back better than ever for this high-budget production, officially co-funded by the Thai government's Ministry of Commerce.

In 1950's Bangkok, a young Pilanthita "Pin" Kasidit loses both her parents. She's taken in by her aunt, Princess Pattamika, to live with her at the court of the high-ranking Sawettawarit royal family - where she meets the royal family's youngest daughter, Princess Anilaphat "Anin". The two girls immediately become best friends and as they grow up, lovers. Even when Anin is forced to study abroad in England for most of her teenage years, their love doesn't waver. But with royal expectations, their class disparity, and the looming threat of an arranged marriage in sight, Pin and Anin have many obstacles to overcome before they can live their impossible happily ever after.

Let me be clear: "The Loyal Pin" is a good, even great show. But it will absolutely not be for everyone. I had a fantastic time with it and although it's not perfect, I sincerely loved my time within this world and with these characters. I could clearly see the incredible dedication and love poured into every aspect of it, from the performances by the actors to the beautiful camerawork and vibrant colors, the dialogues and scenes overall.

That might not be you. I don't want to dismiss critique of the show (I have plenty myself, as I'm about to lay out) as simply saying "You just don't Get It™️ like I do". But I do think the series is so vastly different from GAP that I'm sure a lot of people wished for just, something different. I can't blame those people, and hey, maybe Cranium will be more up your alley! Long story short, I have seen a lot of quite bad faith discussions of The Loyal Pin in the months since it aired and I want to stress that this review will not be that. Generally, if I didn't like something very much, I probably won't review it (which is why I didn't write about Blank or TSOU, sorry for catching strays).

Now that I've said that, I want to write about a show that I connected with a lot and why. I'm going to break down a few stand-out points to me, starting with our two main characters!

The Characters, My Beloveds:

Lady Pin: Our title character is the princess in this tale. A shy, polite and rule-abiding noble commoner, she's barely above the bottom of the food chain at the royal court and basically a servant. How can you not root for her? The way she endlessly loves and cares for Anin but is still conflicted about her burgeoning feelings and sexuality make her an endearing character you want to see happy. She's extremely devoted, faithful (I mean, the show is called The Loyal Pin...), and willing to sacrifice everything for what she believes in - including herself. We really see our heroine have to go through hell and back to see even a sliver of happiness. As time goes on, Pin becomes more confident but also grows jealous, makes mistakes, sacrifices too much, and is just incredibly human. She's a bird in a cage, and you just wish she could finally fly.

Princess Anin: The actual princess in our tale takes on more of a role of a gallant prince. Anin is the strongest character of the show, both in terms of bravery and emotional growth but also in being extremely consistent and easy to love. She's the mischievous rule-breaker of our main couple and a total optimist, always dreaming of a future everyone around her deems unthinkable. And with her natural charm, she's used to getting what she wants. On the flip side, her power and privilege have made her naive and she easily gets jealous (a trait she does share with Pin, so I guess it's at least equal). Anin is just as devoted as Pin is and works tirelessly to make their happy-ending happen, even when it seems nigh impossible. She doesn't even know that she's just as caged in her position as a princess as every other woman at the royal court - until it's all gone way too far.

The notable supporting cast of friends - Prik, Anin's loyal servant and the mandatory funny side-kick; Anan, Anin's oldest brother and certified Lesbian Ally™️; and my personal favourite Uangfah, Anin's cousin, who also has a crush on her (let's just not talk about that) - are all wonderful additions to the cast that make the world feel big and complex.

The two biggest antagonists in the show - Kuea, Pin's primary suitor, and Princess Pattamika, Pin's aunt, also bring the necessary spice to the mix. Admittedly, putting them in the same category is a bit mean - Kuea is a dumb prick you love to hate, while Auntie Patt is much more complex and hating her definitely hurts - but they're the closest we get to villains in this story. The show makes a big point out of the fact that, technically, most people are on board with Anin and Pin together, but the society around them is just simply not.

With a runtime of over 16 hours, the show can also really take its time to let you feel for the characters. And I love that!

Visuals: As already mentioned, the show just looks gorgeous. Kudos to the entire staff behind it - camerawork is consistently smooth, and although the layouts are often simple and can get repetitive it's still functional. The sets, the costumes, everything fits well together to transport us back in time. It's that delicious government money coming in clutch. The dialogue and writing is excellent, and character pay-off is deliciously sweet. The show works with very saturated colors that make everything look vibrant and pull you in with this nostalgia fantasy. Characters are also heavily color-coded, with Pin and Anin wearing palettes of pink and blue respectively. And when things go awry, those palettes also shift to represent their current emotional states.

The Plot (AKA the Romance): The story of "The Loyal Pin" can be easily summed up: It's the story of the romance between Pin and Anin. Their love story is the plot of the series - how they meet, how they fall in love, and how they end up together. There's no big mystery or drama outside of that - although there is plenty of drama to be had within. We've got jealousy plot lines aplenty, miscommunication, secret-keeping and everything else you'd expect from this genre. And it's all juicy as hell.

And if I may put some mild spoilers here already - my favourite part of the whole drama is that it has a point, and that our main couple actually learns how to talk to each other, process their feelings, and admit wrongdoing. It gives both Pin and Anin flesh and blood and makes them feel real, and so even when they fumble I want to see them get back up.

Pin and Anin have an undeniable attraction to each other and insane chemistry. Obviously, the actors are familiar with each other after all their projects together, so this should come as no surprise. The show is, of course, also really sexy, and although we don't see a lot of skin per se, my God, believe me, you're gonna be sweating.

(^ Anin is a certified Boob Girl)

Conclusion: What makes this show a 9/10? There's really not much to complain about here. I think if period dramas are your thing, in all their melodramatic glory, then you'll enjoy this show - and if you don't then you won't. For me personally, the repetitive layouting, the weird pacing in the somewhat drawn-out last 3 episodes, and "The Scene" (this one will have to go in the spoiler part, sorry!), among other smaller misses I wish weren't there, all made me retract a point. It's a great show - but I can easily name things that it could improve on. And I would like to see it in Idolfactory's next project.

With "Cranium" already having its pilot out, I've got high hopes!

I would recommend this show to anyone who watches (Thai) GL shows. It's one of the best I've watched so far. "The Loyal Pin" is a show with a lot of heart, great characters with even better chemistry, and beautiful visuals. It has well deserved its spot in my top 3 shows of the year. Go watch it, now, and then come back and tell me what you think!

Thank you for reading this lengthy post! This is the end of my spoiler-free review!

Now, let's get into spoilers to discuss some stuff more in depth - the great, the good, and the very bad.

The Break-Up - A Perfect Episode of Angst:

I famously wrote a very lengthy post about how excellent I found episode 13 AKA the break-up of Anilpin, which you can read here in its entirety. The post somewhat blew up on TLP twt when it got reposted there (without my permission, but it's all good now). And I'm glad people enjoyed reading it. I still stand by all of it! Sorry for not typing everything out again and linking to a different post. I just needed to highlight it again and how deliciously tasty the angst was. It was really the perfect distillation of showing the class disparity, power plays behind the scenes, mixed up with Anilpin's jealousy and miscommunication, the misogyny all the main woman are experiencing, Pin's martyr complex, and Anin's blind optimism. Really, really tasty, and it made their reunion in episode 15 even sweeter.

Princess Pattamika: A character I really need to expand on is Auntie Patt - and just to get it out of the way: I love her. She's my favourite "villain", because I can understand why she does what she does - even if she ends up deeply hurting the person she cares about the most: Pin, her adoptive daughter.

Princess Pattamika took in her niece after her brother and his wife, Pin's parents, died. Herself also having been adopted into the royal court of the Sawettawarit's, she inhabited an extremely similar position to Pin. A noble commoner, earning herself a good standing by serving the royal family well.

... and as we find out later on, she even wound up in a very similar romance - falling in love with a high ranking princess. Their relationship seemed extremely intense, probably similar to Anin & Pin's, but was cut short due to the princess' untimely death. Until this day, the loss of her love hurts Patt.

No other character understands Pin's position and struggles better than Patt. Which is also exactly why Patt is so exceptionally cruel to her when she finds out about Anin & Pin's relationship - and even before that, when Pin was just mildly disobedient and getting into trouble with Anin. She sees the heartbreak she suffered as inevitable for Pin. More importantly, she understands exactly the position this puts Anin in. Preserving the royal family's integrity and honor is the top priority of lower ranked nobles like Pin (and Patt herself). Anin & Pin's relationship is a ticking time bomb for the royal family if it were to be found out, so Patt is livid when she finds out that Pin has been keeping this secret for so long.

Throughout the show, Patt is stern and harsh with Pin (let's not forget the corporal punishment in episode 1?!). At the same time, you can see how much she cares for Pin and just wishes her to have a good life. Patt is also very conservative - again, see all of the above - and is keen on having Pin follow a traditional woman's role as a wife and mother. Which is why she also pushes Pin so hard towards Kuea, who can successfully charm her because he's buddies with Anon and works for the government. It doesn't matter that Pin loathes him, Kuea is the ideal husband because they have similar standing and he's on good terms with the royal family. Patt's misguided perspective morphs into cruelty and conservatorship. Only after Kuea is finally exposed as the POS he always was, Patt's world shatters - she's been wrong all along, and caused unthinkable pain for her Pin.

In the end, it's up to us as the audience whether or not we "forgive" her. I know I do, and I know Pin definitely does. Pin, being so similar to her, knows exactly why Patt did what she did, and that without her she wouldn't have the life she's living right now at all. This isn't to say that children should just be grateful for what their parents give them, and forgive them all the pain they cause - but Pin and Patt clearly see how they've been misguided, and find the love they have for each other again. In the finale, Patt stands by Pin and encourages her to follow her heart and do what's right for her love even if it would mean running away to England.

I just think Auntie Patt is a great character but also very divisive, and I was viscerally hurt when she turned on Pin, it's like I was betrayed by her myself. In the finale, she ends up giving Pin her unwavering support, even if it means defying authority and not adhering to social norms. It's such nice character development. Man, Patt, you've come a long way. I will not defend your crimes but I WILL defend YOU. And I wish you a very yuriful future. #lesbianmilfinyourarea

"The Scene":

(HBomberguy voice) "To me, it is always The Scene."

Alright, let's get this over with.

I'm referring to a very specific sequence of events that play out in the final episode, that are so astronomically stupid and bad that they have been in my mind for weeks. It taints the lovely memory I have of watching the finale with my bestie because it just makes me shake my head and think: "Wait, what were the writers thinking?". Completely immersion-breaking. I have to take a break from praising this show to shit talk this scene because I just can't get it out of my head. Among all the great characterization, pay-off, and overall love for Pin & Anin in the show, this scene stands out like a sore thumb. The finale itself is good - we'll get to that in a second - but this still makes me mad.

So let's break this down. "The Scene" plays out after Pin confronts Anin's father. In a very ominous scene he declares that he will have to simply "remove the problem" with Pin in order to have his way. Subsequently, guards show up at the Lotus Palace and abduct Pin, with Prik, Pia, and Auntie Patt all screaming for help trying to stop this. Pin then wakes up, blindfold removed - in the Pine Palace, surrounded by a moody and romantic setup themed around her and Anin's relationship. Confused, shaken, she looks around to look at the pictures of her and Anin, before Anin comes in to reveal that this whole charade was just a show her father orchestrated to get Pin to move in with Anin permantently. In a small flashback, we even see Patt, Prik and Pia being in on the joke, laughing their asses off as Pin is being driven away.

Now, to her credit, Anin didn't know about it and wanted to warn Pin first but came too late. But the rest? None of you have any excuse. Especially for Aunt Patt, whose writing I just praised to hell and back, this was a complete slap in the face. And even Anin - she just let it slide? That they fake-kidnapped her already anxious girlfriend? Pin does point out that she was (rightfully) terrified, and even then Anin is like, "It was just a little surprise!". Anin. Anin. I'M SORRY????

Whoever wrote this seriously needs to put themselves in the position of the audience. For 15 and a half hours we've been struggling to see the girls be accepted, taken seriously by their families, only for their relationship to be dissected and belittled endlessly. And now, that we finally have them be accepted, become some sort of joke to prank about? I could not believe my eyes. It's honestly unfathomable how this ended up in the final script when you look at the bigger picture and compare it to the rest of the (fairly tame) shenanigans this show pulls.

For this one, really, I have no excuse. What a way to destroy half of your main cast's development with just one scene. And for what? To bait us into a dramatic finale with the episode preview? Go to hell.

Now that I've said my piece on this, by far the worst scene of this show, I can move on and hopefully finally let it go. I've decided that this is simply just not canon and the writers just wanted to clock out early that day. Anyway. Lots of digital ink has already been spilled over how this is the worst scene of the show and I won't kick it while it's down any more. Let's get back to the good stuff again, which I promise is the other 99% of the runtime.

The Finale - or, The Defiant Pin:

The rest of the finale is very tasty and enjoyable and I want to talk about my favourite thing, which is our heroine Pin finally standing up for herself and her love.

The biggest conflict Pin faces throughout the show is her powerlessness in any decision, even regarding herself. Her life, her love and her body is commanded by the people above her. And it's no different when it comes to her relationship with Anin. Although Pin believes the impossible for a while, she's faced with the horrifying reality as soon as someone finds out about them.

This was admittedly quite frustrating after a while. As a viewer, I wanted my heroine to stand up and FIGHT! How many L's can this girl take without breaking? Well, a lot, apparently. The martyr complex really runs deep. So when it finally happens in the finale, and Pin goes to talk to the King directly, demanding of him the impossible, I cheered. That's my girl!!!! It was the character pay-off I've been waiting for all this time, and it was delicious. I wished it could have been earlier in the series, but I'll take it.

An Impossible Happy End:

In the end, all was well. Anin and Pin get to live their quiet lesbian life together, with the support of the entire family. Surely, this will not end their struggles - something we've been reminded of for almost the entire show - but with everyone having their backs, it might just work out. They even get to be the cool aunts to their niece Alin (named after Anin, aw!) and they get to have their own mini "wedding" in front of the whole family and brother, it brought a tear to my eye. The devotion paid off, our girls can be together forever. The End!

Who cares about realism, historical accuracy etc etc shut up. Just stop right there, I don't want to hear about it. Sometimes you just want a sapphic period piece to have a euphoric happy ending after all the shit they went through and I'll never be mad at it. We even get to hear that my bestie Lady Uangfah got rid of her POS fiancé and is presumably living it up as the hottest lesbian princess in Phrae. Bless. And for Pin and Anin, we know no surface in the palace is sacred, and every single person in the court will walk in on them making out at some point. And that's good for them!

Missed chances:

For one last nitpick, just to satisfy all the haters out there, let me list out a bunch of things I thought were either 1) stupid 2) disappointing or 3) both. Lightning round of cinemasins committed by a free YouTube series GO:

The hairpins that Anin and Pin have don't come back as major symbols in the end and I thought that was really disappointing. It was set up so nicely; Anin angrily gives hers back to Pin when she gets engaged but then they don't do anything with it. They didn't even wear them for their wedding or something. Boo!!!!

Anin gets sexually assaulted by her "friend" and the show, Anin included, just lets that slide? Sure, Anin is uneasy around Lady Aon for a while but eventually it's just like, okay? Not a great look and I found the way it was handled in quite poor taste.

The show has a weird way of going from funny to serious sometimes, I think it was episode 14 that this especially bothered me. But it's alright, whatever.

The layouts especially in quite important scenes are boring as hell, and that really softens the impact of them and that's a shame. You know which FreenBecky project has fantastic layouts? Uranus2324. For all the faults that movie had (and boy, there were many), the frame compositions were fucking amazing all around. It took me so long to write this review that the movie is now finally out so I'm allowed to mention it, and you should go watch it!

Pin wears blue to signal her allegiance to Anin when she gets engaged, but Anin never wears pink to do the opposite. Sure, her blouse in the epilogue has a bit of pink in it, but boo!!!! I wanted more. If you set up color coding this strict, ride it until the end.

The first opening theme song is really boring (although it does fit the period drama vibe very well) and I don't understand why we couldn't have had Cheevee as a theme song from the very beginning. That song is a huge banger.

Not enough Uangfah, like, just in general. Show me my girl.

We never had a scene where Princess Alissa calls Pin her daughter-in-law/second daughter or something. I was hoping for that to happen all throughout the show. We just hear that she's really fond of Pin all the time, and in a quite bad display of Tell Don't Show they barely have any scenes together. I really hoped they'd do something for the finale but no.

Anon sucked and idk why he was there, just to annoy me specifically I guess. They could have done much more with him!

Pin has a job and I think they just forgot about that half of the time.

... and that's all I have to say for now.

This is by far the longest review I've done so far, and if you made it all the way through, congrats and thank you!!! Thanks to all the messages and personal encouragement by my fellow Thai GL lovers I get to have fun writing these things. Whether or not you agree with me in the end, I hope you enjoyed reading.

As always, my askbox and DMs are open if anyone wants to geek out. Cheers!

Love, Mono

[letmerideitchris]

𐬺𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑𐬺

summary: Chris Matt and Nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible not to fall for her…

Warnings: pregnancy(?)

wc: 705

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

Chris is still sitting on the couch; his stomach and head was in too much pain to move to his bed. Chris looked more pale than usual, which made complete sense now that he is going to be a dad, he had only just turned 21. Matt is sitting on the other end of the couch in case Chris needs his company. Not a word has been spoken out of any of their mouths since nick went to go get y/n, it's been 2 hours, and they still haven't come back to the house. Matt turns his head to Chris to see if he's shut his eyes, he hasn't, matt doesn't even think he's seen him blink. As more time passes, Chris is creating more and more problems in his head, only the most negative things are passing through. I don't know how much more he can take before he literally explodes. Chris finally shut his eyes, suddenly they opened back wider than they've been this whole time. He jumps up. Matt and him both lock eyes. Keys are screwing into the door. Chris doesn't know if he should be scared of what nick is going to say or scared that he has brought her back to the house.  

Chris' heart drops as he hears two sets of shoes coming up the stairs. He sees nicks head peer over the wall near the staircase, he didn't come alone. There she is, right by nick, makeup smudged, terrible posture, and still crying. “Chris please can you go down to your room, y/n needs to rest on the couch” nick says with evident stress. No words leave Chris's mouth, he sits up and stretches the pain out his stomach then stands up on his unstable legs, y/n and Nick are still paused on the stairs, before Chris walks downstairs he approaches y/n, exchanges the slightest smile, then continues to walk down to his room.  

Chris is in his bed, and all of a sudden doesn't feel so sad after smiling at y/n, it was a sense of relief, that maybe this could work out. He can finally get some sleep that he will need because he knows that it is going to be a big day tomorrow. He is going to have to speak to y/n at some point, in the end she is carrying his child. Three knocks from the door wake Chris up, “uhh who is it”, y/n peeps her head from behind the door “hi, it's just me, could I maybe come in?” He's in such a state that he can't even produce any words, so he just nods and waves her in. He sits up and brushes his fingers through his hair, she takes a seat on the end of the bed. “Chris I'm sorry I ran out like that it wasn't fair by me; it just didn't seem like you were going to stick by me through the whole pregnancy thi-” “why would you think that? I know I may not be ready and prepared to be a dad, but I know youre probably not ready to be a mum, so how would it be fair for me to leave you in the dirt like that?” Chris says shuffling closer to y/n. “Chris, you don't realize how comforting that is to hear.” Y/n says feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. “I really want things to work out between us, and I know we haven't known each other for that long but since I have decided to keep the baby, I think it is important for us to get to know each other a bit more before heading into a serious relationship.” Chris gently takes y/n’s hand in his own and looks into her eyes “I couldn't agree more”. Chris leans in her direction and she quickly melts into his embrace, like she had been waiting for his comfort for an eternity. “Thank you, Chris, really”  

Chris and y/n took the next few months leading up to the birth of baby Saylor slowly, Chris decided to propose to y/n 5 months after Saylor was conceived. They're now living a happy life in Boston not far from Chris’s parents' house. 

sorry for how long this took for me to release!! but hope you enjoy our conclusion to the videographer fiction, thanks for all the love 😘💕

credits to @bernardsbendystraws for dividers

taglist:

@chrissturnsss @sophand4n4 @chrispycremedonut

@clairesrose @sturnsmad @riggysworld

@victoryouactuallydidthis @itasmallworld

@trevorsgodmother @sturnobsessedwh0re @sturninsworld

@mattsturnioloshands @sweetshuga @madisturni

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan

[stxrr-strxckk]

Anything fluff with quackity and fem reader 👀

A/N: first request! Hope you like this fic <3 Remember to like, follow, and reblog!

Clip it, chat!

(Quackity x fem!reader fluff)

synopsis: Alex decides to invite his girlfriend on stream, chat gets a little carried away.

Any warnings?: really crappy writing (not proofread) and even crappier spanish I'm sorry 😭 I don't know anything other the basics but I'm trying trust 🙏

What's on the record player?: Out of my league; Fitz and the Tantrums

"Hey, we're going live soon. You ready?"

I glanced up from my phone and smiled at Alex, my boyfriend of the past few months. Today, he was finally going to introduce me to his fans. "Yeah, let's do this!"

He grinned at me, turning to his computer and quickly opening twitch, readying his webcam. "Just say the word and we'll start, mi amor."

I straightened in my chair and smoothed the creases out of my shirt. It may have seemed stupid to care this much what random strangers on the internet thought, but it was serious to me.

Alex seemed to notice my nervous demeanor, and he placed a comforting hand on my knee.

"Hey, don't be nervous! They're gonna love you, princesa."

I nodded anxiously, trying my hardest to not be too nervous.

As the stream started, I watched dumbfounded as messages poured in from chat. He'd only started streaming a few moments ago and there were already thousands watching us.

"Hey everyone, I'm streaming today because there's someone very important I want to introduce to you all."

Alex grabbed my hand under the table, giving me a soft smile.

"This," he gestures to me, draping an arm over my shoulders, "is my girlfriend. Say hi, girlfriend!"

"Hi, girlfriend." I replied, stifling a giggle. Alex rolled his eyes.

"Nevermind, I'm taking you off this stream. Say bye, girlfriend!"

He pretended to push me out of frame, and I swatted his hands away as chats filled Alex's second monitor asking him to let me stay.

"What do we think, chat? Should she stay?" he asked, giving up on pushing me to instead read chat.

"Let me stay!" I add, laughing awkwardly. Alex turned back to me, smiling.

"Okay, we'll let her stay. For now." he added the last part, laughing. "Anyways chat, today we're going to be playing some roblox!"

"Ooh, can we play dress to impress?" I asked, giggling.

"We'll see, princesa."

The stream went on without a hitch, and by the end chat had already created a ship name for us.

"Okay, that's gonna be it for today. I'll probably stream sometime next week, and maybe we'll have our special guest come back again." Alex gave me a cheeky grin. "What do you say, mi amor?~"

"I don't know..." I pretended to be unsure, smiling lightly.

"Please? For me?" he asked, making puppy dog eyes.

"I'll think about it." I replied with a small smile.

Alex grinned, and I couldn't stop thinking about how cute he looked. I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. His eyes lit up and grinned wider than ever.

Chat was wizzing by faster than ever, mostly messages about how cute we were as a couple.

"Chat, you need to clip this."

We ended stream soon after (much to the dismay of fans), and Alex looked over at me, smiling.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm glad they liked me."

"I told you they would," he hummed. "how could they not? You're perfect, mi amor."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I smiled. "I love you, Alex."

"Yo quiero comer culo." he replied, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"So, do you think you'll let me back on stream anytime soon?" I asked.

"Of course, princesa."

a/n: first oneshot done! Please heart, follow, and reblog if you enjoyed loves <3

wordcount: 580

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic the Hedgehog: Halloween Special

I didn't really intend to be gone for so long, but I ended up working on a different passion project, and then I had some stuff happen to me that required me to be offline for a few days. But, hey, at least I got to analyze this story... about six months too late.

Yeah, I'm talking about a Halloween story... a week before Easter. X3

Welp, better late than never.

Today's story focuses on the Chaotix on Halloween, with Espio and Vector taking the child of their family, Charmy, trick-or-treating. Or rather, Espio reminding Vector that Charmy is the one trick-or-treating, not Vector, who's hoping to get some sweets for himself.

Gotta say, I really like their costumes here, with Espio being a mummy, Vector being Frankenstein's Monster and Charmy being a vampire.

They get a knock on the door, with Charmy thinking it's another case, but Vector points out how it's more likely that it's a kid who wants sweets.

Turns out, they were both right - it's a kid who wants to solve them a case of stolen candies.

The kid explains how she and her friends were walking on the edge of the forest when another kid approached them, telling them about a shortcut to houses with even better candy.

They followed the kid through the forest, only for the little sneak to slip away and leave them alone, where they get ambushed by some sort of monster.

Now, let's be real, these are kids and kids can be naive and stupid, so going into the woods at night following another kid shouldn't be at all surprising. But if there's one certain thing, it's that this so-called monster is probably fake, with the kid who led them into the forest basically running a scam. And no, I'm not saying this because I already read this story; I'm saying it because it's a pretty obvious trope if you ever watched a cartoon where kids bully other kids on Halloween night to steal their candy.

I think what's admirable here is that Charmy is the one advocating to bring back the stolen goods. I think that normally you'd expect kid characters like Charmy to throw a tantrum over not getting to go trick-or-treating and Espio and Vector having to put their foot down, but no, Charmy is not that kind of person. Hell, Vector even gives him the reins for the night.

Now, that's a true detective!

Sonic (not in costume - even though we know he owns a Vampire costume) and Tails (dressed as a cowboy) are also on the hunt for candy, taking notice of the Chaotix below.

They exchange pleasantries, with Charmy getting them up to speed about their case, with Sonic and Tails agreeing to join them.

They get into the forest, searching for the so-called monster, only to see a couple of kids running for their lives. Charmy and Tails are a bit scared, Vector, Espio and especially Sonic look more confused.

Espio and Vector come up with a plan to find the monster, but it becomes a moot point when Tails tracks it down for them, much to the former two's shock.

But, they get over it and just follow the signal.

The group still thinks it's a real monster, which fair, considering how many monsters they had to fight, ranging from robots to literal gods.

Sonic goes ahead to check the forest and it seems that he found something.

It's an empty bag stuck on a tree, with Charmy finding their next clue.

It is a trail of candy, with Charmy leading the way, being the lead detective for this case, only to hear something ahead.

They find the guy leading two more kids astray, with Charmy charging after him. Sonic and Espio follow, while Tails and Vector comfort the crying kids who almost got fooled into losing their candy.

Sonic, Espio and Charmy corner the kid, only to be met by the monster, while Vector and Tails hear Charmy screaming for help and going after their friends.

Sonic is being grappled by the so-called monster, with Charmy hearing Vector call out an attack, flying around the monster and having Vector slam into it.

Vector then unleashes a sonic screech, knocking the monster down. Charmy stops any further fight, pointing out it's just a bunch of things in a costume... and then the brat from earlier clocks Vector straight in the face! What the hell?!

I did not expect that to happen, but it's kinda funny.

The kids get surrounded, save for one who attempts his best to escape.

Tails stops him, and I really love this quote from him:

''Correction. Tonight, I am a cowboy. And I'm going yeehaw mode.''

Words to live by. He then ties the kid up, with Vector throwing Charmy a bag to catch the other kid.

To keep it short, the jig is up, but the brats refuse to tell them where their stash of stolen candy is, or at least try to split it up 30/70 (how is that even fair? I'd call 70/30 considering you little thieves got busted).

Of course, the Chaotix, Sonic and Tails want none of that, being more annoyed about the kids stealing stuff.

Charmy finds the stolen goods behind a bush, which is when the brats turn on the waterworks, saying how it's not fair. They spent a whole year making that monster and are upset that all of their stolen goods are now going back to their rightful owners.

Yeah, they are brats alright.

Sonic points out how this behavior is completely selfish and being himself, he's not caring about the candy, but about helping people.

Charmy calls Vector to help him out with a bag, only for a gem to fall out of it. At first, everything thinks it's legit, but it turns out it's made out of sugar. The brats are still protesting about losing their candy, with Charmy and Tails pointing out how their actions hurt other people, with the vampire kids realizing that he may have screwed up.

The other kids also realize that they got carried away, and while it's nice that they learned their lesson, they still should own up for what they have done, in my opinion.

Vector then calls everyone to return back to the town, since they still have candy to give out.

Back at Seaside City, we see a long line of scammed kids getting their candy back, realizing that making other people happy is better than being selfish and Tails even befriends the kid with the robot arms.

Charmy is a little bummed he didn't get to trick-or-treat, but according to Tails' calculations, not only is there enough candy for all the kids in Seaside City, but there's gonna be leftover for them, with Charmy happily stating that this is the best Halloween ever.

It's a nice story, and one thing I like is that the villains are just some random kids who wanted candy instead of someone like Eggman, Clutch or Mimic. Nothing high-stakes, although I imagine Halloween candy would mean everything to a kid, and it was really neat that they gave Charmy the spotlight.

But, I have two things to note - I wish Sonic wore his Vampire Costume rather than having no costume (especially since the Werehog isn't an option - although I think it would be really cool if we got a Halloween story with the Werehog), and secondly - I want the Chaotix's costumes as skins in Sonic Forces: Speed Battle and Sonic Dash. Otherwise, I have no complaints.

Instead, I'll see you all in Sonic the Hedgehog: Winter Jam!

#Previous Issue

#Next Issue

[silverynight]

Sweet promises

Tanjirou's life changes completely when a stranger saves him and his family from a demon.

He's taller than Tanjirou, and his eyes are deep blue that probably hide so many emotions in them.

"Thank you!" Tanjirou smiles again, slightly tugging the swordsman by his haori. "Please, stay over for dinner. It's the least we can do."

"My name is Tomioka Giyuu," he finally introduces himself as he watches intently how Tanjirou pulls his long, red hair into a ponytail. "And it'd be a pleasure to have dinner with you and your family."

"Great! I'm Kamado Tanjirou, by the way!"

He introduces his family and they all have a nice time as they eat; Tanjirou's Mom and his siblings are aware of what happened and are so grateful to Tomioka, they basically welcome him into their family instantly.

He leaves that day after pulling Tanjirou into a hug, but comes back a few days later and begs the family to move into a secure house he prepared for them.

Tomioka explains everything he knows about demons that day, and even though he thinks it'll take a while for another one to appear; the place seems rather hidden, he'll feel a lot better if they decide to go with him.

After a couple of minutes of Kie talking to her eldest son and daughter, she decides to accept the swordsman's offer.

They follow him.

"I think he's doing this because of you, Tanjirou," Nezuko tells him as soon as Tomioka gets distracted talking to Kie on the way to their new home.

"What do you mean?"

"He's quite taken with you already."

Tanjirou blushes, but shakes his head immediately.

"Of course not. He's just being a nice person."

Nezuko looks back at him with amusement, like she knows a lot more than Tanjirou, but doesn't say anything else.

***

The place is way bigger than the house they used to live in, but Tomioka assures them all that it's completely theirs.

"Also... it's very close to my estate," he informs Tanjirou, as his cheeks turn slightly pink. "So I can pay you visits every now and then if you want."

"I'd love to, Tomioka-san!" Tanjirou beams. For a moment, he feels like he's going to start sobbing because he's so happy. His family is safe now. He's still not sure what he's going to do for a living, but he knows he can get a decent job in no time.

Tanjirou starts working at a small restaurant a few days later, even though the water hashira assures him he can provide for him and his family, and he often does, but Tanjirou likes to keep himself active.

He likes to work.

As Tomioka later explains to him, that whole area belongs to the Corps, which is why Tanjirou often sees boys and girls wearing peculiar uniforms walking around and inside the restaurant.

"I haven't seen you here before," a female slayer points out, after Tanjirou brings a bowl of noodles to her and her friends' table.

"My family moved in a month ago!" Tanjirou smiles, prompting the girl to blush. "We love this place already!"

"I'm glad," another slayer says, grinning at the redhead. "So we get to see your pretty face often!"

Tanjirou gets so flustered he blushes to the tip of his ears, but nods anyway before going back inside the kitchen.

"You got a lot of admirers already," the owner comments with amusement. "I'm pretty sure you'll get married soon."

Tanjirou shakes his head, not trusting his own voice at the moment. His boss is a nice man, but the redhead thinks he's exaggerating a bit.

The water hashira walks in the restaurant a few days later. The owner respects him a lot, and he often offers Tomioka food for free, but the Pillar always insists on paying for everything.

"He's a hashira," the man explains to Tanjirou, even though the redhead knows a little bit about ranks already. "Listen, those slayers that came the other day are good people and do their best, but that one over there with the mismatched haori is the one who makes sure this whole area is safe."

Tanjirou looks over at Tomioka, who seems to be waiting patiently, and feels another wave of admiration for him inside his chest.

The water hashira meets his eyes then, and smiles at him before waving.

"Oh," the owner notices, looking back at Tanjirou. "You caught that one's attention too?"

Blushing to the tip of his ears, Tanjirou shakes his head rather fast.

"It's not like that!" He tries to explain. "He saved me and my family from a demon a while ago. That's why I know him!"

The man looks at Tanjirou with amusement and for a moment, that look reminds him of Nezuko.

"He doesn't smile at all... in fact, it's the first time I've seen him smile in years," the man continues. He prepares a special bowl and hands it to Tanjirou. "Go ahead, take this to him."

"Tanjirou," the smile on the Pillar's face turns even wider as the redhead approaches his table. "Nezuko told me you'd be here."

"There's been a lot of work lately," Tanjirou says then. "The slayers like to come here often."

"I know you like to stay active," Tomioka says after a couple of seconds. "But you don't have to work too much. I can perfectly take care of your family's expenses."

"It's okay, I like this job. Besides, you do a lot for us already," Tanjirou reminds him. "I saw the cute yukata you bought for Rokuta the other day. He loves it, by the way."

"I'm glad."

Tomioka has a particular way of looking right into Tanjirou's eyes that usually makes him feel flustered.

"I have to go back to the kitchen!"

The water hashira grabs him by the wrist before Tanjirou can leave.

"When do you have a day off?"

"Tomorrow, actually."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

When Tanjirou gets back inside the kitchen, still flustered, the owner grins at him.

"You should marry that one. He's clearly besotted already, and since he's a hashira, he can take care of you better than the other slayers that make heart eyes at you."

"Thanks for the a-advice!" Tanjirou stammers as his face turns completely red. "But we're just friends!"

"Are you kidding me? He looks at you like you're his entire world!"

Tanjirou doesn't argue with that because he's too flustered to speak, but he assures himself the man is mistaken.

***

This time, Tomioka says he wants to take Tanjirou to the nearby town, and even though he walks in the Kamados house to say 'Hi' it looks like he wants to spend time with Tanjirou only.

There are a lot of people in that town who know about the existence of demons and are very aware of who Tomioka is. Some of them even bow in front of him when they see him.

Tanjirou runs into a couple of slayers too, the ones who keep coming in the restaurant he works at.

"You look really cute today!" One female slayer compliments him as the others get closer.

"Thank you!" He smiles. "You too!"

"Listen, Tanjirou... I was wondering–Ouch! Why did you elbow my ribs like that, Kana? Oh, yeah... I mean, we were wondering if–"

"Are these your friends, Tanjirou?" Tomioka finally turns around before putting a hand on the redhead's shoulder.

"Yes, they come almost every single day to the place I work at and–"

"I'm sorry!" The three of them look over Tanjirou's shoulder and turn pale at the same time. "We have to go back training!"

He watches in confusion as they leave, like they just saw a demon. Tomioka leans closer to him before nuzzling against the left side of his head gently.

"Let's go get something to eat. I know another place around here."

"Alright!"

Tomioka makes sure to keep visiting him, especially him... which is nice. Tanjirou is sure they're good friends now and the water hashira enjoys his company a lot.

After a few weeks, however, the Pillar asks to see Kamado Kie and Nezuko. He talks with both of them while Tanjirou takes care of Rokuta and Shigeru. Takeo and Hanako are talking about how they have seen this coming a long time ago, which only confuses the redhead.

"What do you mean?"

Takeo rolls his eyes, makes a disgusted expression before saying: "Tomioka-san is probably going to ask Mom and Nezuko permission to start a courtship."

"Is he going to court Nezuko?" Tanjirou asks suddenly, not sure how to feel about it.

Hanako giggles, as Takeo stares at him like he's crazy.

"How could he? If he's in love with you!" His little sister says, still giggling.

"What?"

However, before his siblings can say anything else, Tomioka comes out of another room, followed by an amused Nezuko, and a very content Kie.

He kneels in front of Tanjirou and takes one of his hands as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

"Your mother and your sister gave me their approval already," Tomioka mumbles, looking a bit nervous. "I'd like to court you, but it's okay if you just want to be my friend. I'd understand, so don't feel like you have to say–"

"Yes," Tanjirou cuts him off, feeling himself getting red as he speaks. "I'd love for you to court me, Tomioka-san!"

The hashira is so happy he gives the redhead a kiss on the lips in front of his family. Most of them laugh happily, but Takeo makes a puking sound, although Tanjirou knows he's actually happy for him too.

***

Mitsuri has told Obanai multiple times that Giyuu looks a lot happier lately, especially during the last couple of meetings. Although she knows he doesn't care about it that much; she's still curious.

When she mentions it to Shinobu though, she agrees with her and says that she has noticed it too.

"He's not very communicative, so I doubt he'll say anything, even if we ask him," the insect hashira mumbles after a while.

"I'll try to ask him anyway!" Mitsuri says, and that's the end of it... that day at least.

Ubuyashiki calls them all to have another meeting and the love hashira is ready to ask Giyuu a little bit about his life, but she doesn't have to because this time, she notices the wedding ring on his finger.

"Giyuu... I think you should bring Tanjirou more often," Ubuyashiki says casually after he listens to their latest reports. "So you can introduce him to the others."

Tanjirou? Is that Giyuu's spouse? So Ubuyashiki knows him!

"I will, if that's what Oyakata-sama wants," the water hashira nods, although he doesn't look quite happy about it.

"Actually, I did invite him today so he'll be joining us any moment now," Amane cuts in then, looking a bit amused out of the sudden.

"Who's Tanjirou?" Kyojuro asks with curiosity.

However, the other Pillar doesn't get the opportunity to answer that question because Tengen also notices what Mitsuri did from the beginning.

"Is he your husband?" The sound hashira asks, a bit loud, but looking like he's having fun. "I didn't know you were married!"

"I got married... a while ago."

"He has to meet my wives!"

"Tanjirou is usually very busy... I don't think–"

"Giyuu-san!"

He gets cut off by the arrival of the most beautiful young man Mitsuri has ever seen. His eyes are red, but they shine with a bright shade of pink under the sunlight. His hair is long, tied up into a ponytail; it's a deeper shade of red than his eyes and looks so soft, Mitsuri is dying to ask him if he'd let her braid it.

"I brought you the bento I made this morning," he says sweetly to his husband before giving the water hashira a kiss on the cheek. He turns around and notices the other Pillars are staring at him with undivided attention, Gyomei even leans his body in the direction he heard Tanjirou's soft voice. "Hi! I'm Tomioka Tanjirou, I'm glad to meet you all. I brought you a couple of onigiri for each of you so you don't leave with an empty stomach."

Mitsuri loves him already and has the feeling the others do too, although Giyuu doesn't look happy about it.

"Tanjirou, it's time to go back home," the water hashira says rather quickly, as he places a possessive hand on his husband's tiny waist.

"Oh, alright! It was a pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure was ours, my boy!"

"Come back soon!"

"You can come to my estate whenever you want!"

Giyuu takes Tanjirou in his arms then and leaves as soon as possible; he doesn't even give his husband the opportunity to agree to any of the invitations.

Mitsuri has the feeling he probably did it on purpose.

***

Patreon

[stargazing-dreamer-girl]

After the show

Pairing: alive!Reggie Peters x reader

WC: 3.2k

Summary: After being away for a few months you were finally back in Los Angeles, just in time to watch your best friend Julie perform with her band. The first time you got to see them live and get to meet them, including the cute bass player.

A/N: Here's something new which probably nobody still counted on getting from me hahah but writing has always helped me cope with some stuff and even though I hadn't pictured myself returning to this, here I am, dealing with life problems by escaping into fanfictions. So, I hope you guys still read it and like it!!

It had been a while since you saw Julie last. You had lived with your dad last semester while your mom had to go abroad for work. That left you at the other side of the country, a six-hour flight away from your best friend and your normal life.

Of course, staying at your dad's wasn't the worst. You got along great. One of the only plus sides of that move was that you could spend more time together, but you also had to get used to a new place and new people. And you missed your friends dearly. Daily Facetime calls to Julie and Flynn kept you going, but those declined in frequency as well. Everybody got busy, so these past few weeks it had been, at most, one call a week. With your upcoming move back home to California, Julie's successful debut with her band and Flynn managing them, there hadn't been a lot of time. Until now.

You were finally back in California, basking in the Los Angeles sun. The hot sand beneath your feet warmed your soul. A content smile graced your face while you were waiting for Julie and Flynn to join you. This felt like home. Definitely.

Your serene moment got interrupted as someone practically fell into you, making you tumble forward a few steps. You were able to keep standing with arms still wrapped around you. With them came a squeak and the call of your name before the figure, which turned out to be Julie, came around to your front. As soon as you saw that familiar face you pulled her into your arms again. Yep, home. "Oh my God, I missed you so much!", you said, squeezing her once more.

"Same! I can't believe you're back! Finally!" The two of you let go of each other and settled onto the sand. "Tell me everything!"

"Well, you already know basically everything," you laughed. "I mean, the last time we talked wasn't even 24 hours ago."

"I know!" Julie took ahold of your shoulders and shook you. "Way too long! I need a play-by-play of your flight."

"Uhm ok, so, when I got to the airport..." And so you told Julie everything that happened at the airport, on your flight, at the reunion with your mom, the ride home, just everything up until the point where she had joined you at the beach. "When is Flynn coming by the way? Shouldn't she be here already?" You looked around hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl amidst the other beach-goers.

"Oh yes, I forgot to say! She actually had to hang back for a bit. She was able to get us a gig tonight, totally last minute, so she had to organize some stuff, but you'll see her later when you come to the show."

"Oh, so I'm invited, huh?" You bumped her shoulder.

"Of course, you are! We made sure to have you put on the guestlist. Then you can also meet the rest of the band! They're so excited to meet you. I mean, Flynn and I always talk about you, so they're always on us about when they actually get to meet you." She laughed at the dorkiness of her friends.

She could still picture the first time you were brought up in conversation in front of them. Flynn had been late to watching the practice and when she finally did come in, she looked a little distraught. Julie had asked her what was wrong, but didn't expect that the reason for her distress was actually your distress. You had just broken up with your partner who was not ready to commit to long-distance, even just for a while, so you had called your friends in tears. The boys had immediately told Julie and Flynn to not worry about practice and call you back and be there for you. Since then, you had been topic of conversation a few times.

"Actually," she continued, "Reggie could not shut up about you being at the show today since we found out it's happening, so you can't disappoint my bassist by not showing up." Julie wiggled her eyebrows at you. That's what you get for one time mentioning that you thought the dark-haired bassist was cute and asking about him. You had kept up with Julie's band, watched all their music videos and the private photos and videos that Julie had sent you.

You felt a warmth spread over your neck and cheeks, slighty embarassed by the teasing. "Oh please, Julie, shut up." You chuckled and looked out at the waves crashing onto the beach. "Of course, I'll be there. I'm super excited to meet the band, too. And to see you perform live!" Looking back at her, you saw the spark in her eyes that had been lost for so long after her mother's death, but there it was, portraying her excitement for making and sharing her music.

The moment got interrupted by an alarm sound coming out of Julie's pocket. "Oh ok, that's me. I actually have to run now," she said while standing up and silencing her phone. "I need to prepare for the show, but I'll text you all the details and will see you there tonight! Ok, bye, love you!" She shouted over her shoulder while already walking away in a hurry. You laughed to yourself at her behavior. It hadn't changed in all this time. You stayed at the beach for a few more minutes, before deciding to go home and get ready yourself.

You looked in awe at the line in front of the club the band was playing at tonight. So many people were here to see your friend perform. It was crazy. And you actually got to walk past all these people to tell the bouncer your name and be let in before all of them. The whole experience was so surreal, but it was everything you had ever hoped for your friend. Inside was already pretty packed as well but Flynn had texted you where to find her, so you made your way through the crowd to the roped-off area at the side which was slightly elevated. You once again gave your name to the woman standing there. She scanned her clipboard before she moved aside to let you in.

You spotted Flynn pretty easily in her eye-catching outfit. She was sitting in the far corner, closest to the stage, typing away on her phone. You walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey there, stranger!"

She turned around quickly. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing there before she jumped out of her seat with a wide smile on her face. "You're here!" She pulled you into a hug. "It's so good to see you! Wait, let me look at you!" You were pushed an arms-length away, so that she could check you out from head to toe. "And you look amazing! Perfect! Show-stopping!"

"Well, I hope not. I did come here to watch the show after all." You took the seat next to Flynn's, catching up with her until the lights dimmed and the show started. You and Flynn immediately got up from your seats as the stage lights came on and illuminated your friend and the rest of the band. Julie's gaze quickly flickered up to where you and Flynn were standing before she started playing the first notes of the song. Actual tears sprung to your eyes as you watched your friend live her dream. You were so proud of her.

You watched her interact with the other band members while performing. They all seemed to have so much fun on stage and you could clearly see their passion for music shining through. More than once did your eyes glance over to the bassist. You had to admit that Reggie looked even better in person than on the screen. He had to know what he was doing when he put on that leather jacket for the performance. Damn.

When the show ended, you actually felt out of breath from all the dancing and jumping and singing along you did with Flynn. The whole concert was so much fun and you could not get rid of the smile on your lips. "So, I am in charge of getting you to Julie's for the after-show party," Flynn turned to you and explained.

"Wait, there's an actual after show party at Julie's? And her dad's fine with it?"

"Yeah, it's just a few people and as long as we clean up and don't make too much noise, he's chill. So, you coming?" Flynn held out a hand for you to take and then skillfully maneuvered you through the crowd. The ride to Julie's turned out to be Flynn's mom who greeted you with a hug. You three chatted for the whole ride, mainly about your last semester and the show, before she dropped you off at Julie's. Before driving off she reminded Flynn to be respectful and considerate of the people living in the house to which Flynn rolled her eyes, but promised to be on her best behavior.

After her mom was gone, she turned to you. "Ok, come on, we need to get some snacks and drinks out before the others arrive." She led you to the garage, which you hadn't entered in what felt like years, and pulled the doors wide open. The lights turned on and as you looked around you realized that not much had changed, except for some trinkets being strewn about here and there. You quickly helped Flynn get some drinks out of the mini fridge and onto the table as well as some snacks when the first few people already started arriving. You easily recognized Nick, one of the first to enter the garage. He hadn't changed much from when you last saw him, still had the same Golden Retriever look to him. Carrie was also easy to spot. She spotted the two of you instantly and came over to greet you. From your calls with Julie and Flynn you were already aware that the feud had ended and there was some kind of friendship blossoming now.

"Hi, girls!" She greeted both of you with a hug before she turned to you. "It's nice to see you! How long have you been back?"

"Oh, just today actually. Been quite a busy day." You made some more small talk with her while other guests arrived and Flynn went off to greet them. It wasn't long until the conersations stopped to greet the arriving band with a round of hollers and applause. The guitarist, Luke, you knew, basked in the applause, entering the garage with raised arms and a grin, ready to high-five his friends that were waiting for him. Julie, Reggie and Alex followed. They had the same grin on their faces, the performance high, but passed up on the high-fives.

Carrie excused herself, but you didn't stay standing alone for long as Julie spotted you and pulled Alex and Reggie over to you. "Guys, I want you to meet someone," she exclaimed and proudly introduced you.

Aley was the first to speak up. He had a nice smile on his face. "Hi! It's really nice to meet you! I'm Alex. Julie has told us so much about you, it's like meeting a legend." Julie hit him in the arm for that comment. "Hey! What? It's true! You're always talking about her like she's a celebrity or some kind of myth. No wonder Reggie-" He got cut off by another hit in the arm, this time from the bassist. "Alright, fine, I'll stop stalking! Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm gonna go over there to my boyfriend." He turned and walked right into the arms of a long-haired guy on the other side of the garage who had been engaged in a conversation with Luke.

You turned back to the other two still standing with you, holding back a laugh. Your gaze fell onto the one who had yet to introduce himself. His eyes were still trained on Alex' back, but as he turned towards you, he realized that your focus was already on him and his cheeks turned red. It only took him a moment to regain his cool though. "I'm Reggie. Nice to meet you!" His eyes trailed your body once over. He shot you a smile. "I can't believe you're even prettier in real life than in the pictures." That earned him another smack against the arm from Julie. He yelped. "Hey! That's not how you treat your bassist!"

"Whatever, go get Luke, I want to introduce him, too!" Rubbing his arm he left, pouting, to get the guitarist. As soon as Reggie said a few words to him, he came jumping right over and put his arms around Julie's shoulder, placing a kiss on her cheek. She chuckled a little at the display of affection. "Luke, I wanna introduce you to-"

He cut her off, saying your name himself. "You talk so much about her. How could I not know?!" He smiled brightly and pulled you into a hug. "Great to finally meet you! How did you like the show?"

"Ah, it was amazing! You all looked so great out there! I had so much fun and everything sounded great! You even played my favorite song," you admitted.

"Oh, and which one is that?" You told him your favorite song, him nodding along to your answer. "Yeah, great taste you got there!" He looked around the room as a group of guys called his name. "Alright, I gotta go entertain for a bit, but we'll definitely catch up soon!" He promised with a wink and another kiss to Julie's cheek.

"Is he always like that?" You asked her.

"Most of the time." She nodded before breaking out into a laugh which you joined.

At some later point in the evening you found yourself on the couch with a drink in your hand. Reggie let himself fall into the seat next to you. "Hi there!" You smiled at him.

"Hi!" The small smile he gave you made him look even cuter. "Sitting here all by yourself?"

"Well, I was just waiting for you to come keep me company."

"Oh." That took him by suprise. "Here I am!"

You tilted your head to the side a bit, taking him in some more. He was still wearing the leather jacket you liked so much during the show with a simple white shirt below it and a pair of jeans. "I really liked to watch you play. I wanted to tell you that before, but you left so quickly."

"Ah, thank you! Yeah." He rubbed his neck as his cheeks turned pink. "Sorry that I left so quickly. I actually did want to talk to you some more! Julie told us you were coming to watch us play, so I- we put some extra effort into making this show amazing!"

"You certainly did! How long have you been playing bass for?"

"So long I can barely remember. I learned the guitar first though," he admitted.

"So you play the guitar as well, wow! I've never had any musical ability. Julie's mom tried to teach me to play the piano a long time ago, but it was completely hopeless." You chuckled at the memory. It was right in this room so many years ago.

"Maybe the piano just wasn't the right instrument for you? I can teach you some guitar if you want. Or bass, if you prefer."

"Alright, I'll hold you to it, but really don't get your hopes up. It might end in an absolute disaster," you joked. "Let me actually give you my number, so we can set a date."

"Oh yeah, totally!" He pulled out his phone and opened it to a new contact. You put your number in and called yourself right after saving it.

"Now I have your number as well." You smiled at him before saving the number into your phone as 'that cute bassist'. You hoped he had seen the name but when you looked back at him his eyes were trained on your face.

An hour moved by as you kept sitting on that couch, talking and laughing with Reggie. Luke, Alex and Julie had each come over for a few minutes but left fairly quickly to give the two of you some space.

"Hey, do you want to get some fresh air? It's getting a bit stuffy in here," you suggested to which Reggie agreed. The doors had been closed by now to keep the noise from reaching the neighbors, so that you hadn't noticed it'd gotten a bit chilly. Before you could say or do anything Reggie already took off his jacket and laid it over your shoulders. You pulled it on tighter as you took a seat on the stairs, the smell of the leather enveloping you. It smelled good, you imagined Reggie to smell distinctly of the jacket as well.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked warily.

"Of course." You assured him, placing a hand on his thigh.

His eyes fell from your face to your hand. "Are you flirting with me? Like, are you actually hitting on me?" His hopeful eyes found yours again as your smile turned wider.

"Yes, Reggie, I have been all evening."

"Oh, ok, good, so I didn't misinterpret anything." He laughed a little and placed his hand over yours that was still lying on his thigh. "You see, I think you're really pretty. I've thought that since Julie and Flynn showed us pictures of you for the first time. And now I know, you're really funny, too, and I'm just totally blown away by you, so I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?"

"I would like that a lot, yes. You lnow, I've had this little crush on you for a while now that Julie and Flynn have been making fun of me for. There's something about you that really draws me in." You bit your lip, taking Reggie's attention from your eyes to your lips.

"So, uhm, can I kiss you right now?" He asked.

Your lips spread into a wider smile as you shuffled closer to him on the stairs. "Yes, Reggie, I'd love that." There wasn't much of a gap between your faces anymore now, but he took his sweet time letting you feel his breath on your lips before finally connecting them. His lips moved softly against yours. He squeezed your hand on his thigh and brought the other one up to cradle your face.

You pulled back a little to catch your breath. When there was a crash from inside the garage your gaze quickly flicked to the door to check if anyone was coming out. When nobody did, you turned back to Reggie. "Do you wanna go back inside or keep doing this?" You asked him, hoping for the latter.

"I think, I'd rather stay out here a bit longer." He smiled before catching your lips in another kiss under the starlit sky.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

What Happens At Home: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: A new team member joins due to her traumatic past, hoping that she can give some insight before more people are killed. Meanwhile, you get the house ready for Spencer's mother on Christmas weekend.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"When we were children, we used to think that when we grew up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability, to be alive is to be vulnerable." - Madeleine L'Engle

Instead of grabbing coffee from the break room, you decide on a piping hot cup of hot chocolate. Emily brought in a machine a few weeks ago and it's been popular among the team. Winter is here, Christmas is this weekend, and the weather outside is freezing cold. You cover the entire surface of your hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows before capping the paper cup. Spencer walks in with his coffee and greets you with a kiss.

"Thank you for suggesting to bring my mom here. I really miss her."

"Of course. I miss her, too."

You two walk together to the briefing room where the rest of the team is besides Rossi. As soon as you sit, Hotch begins.

"Three women were murdered inside a gated community in southeastern New Mexico in the last two months. Marjorie West was strangled in her home in the middle of the night while her family was out of town. They found her the next morning. Jill Long was strangled in the laundry room while her husband and sons were camping in the backyard. Last night, Aubrey Jacobs was killed in her home office while her daughter and husband were asleep in the house."

"Having the house occupied is as high-risk as it gets. He's fearless. The proximity and the chance he might get caught could be part of it for him."

"You said gated community. I'm assuming that means security?" Spencer asks.

"A small security staff and perimeter cameras where everything's recorded twenty-four-hours, and no one has entered or left the compound since last night except residents. It looks like the unsub is part of the community. The local Detective says that demographics, general makeup, and socioeconomic status of the residents are essentially the same."

"That's going to make a profile difficult," Emily sighs.

"Unless we examine a different set of parameters."

"What different parameters?"

"Rossi's working on that right now."

Rossi is at the FBI academy recruiting one of the newbies, Ashely Seaver. She has a past that might help with the case at hand even though she isn't ready for field work. She has yet to graduate so she'll only be an informative instead of an agent, and she agrees to come help. Rossi may have fibbed a bit to get her to help, but she can back out at any time if she needs to. Rossi brings her back to the BAU to meet with Hotch before meeting the rest of the team.

"Do you remember Agent Hotchner?" Rossi says when they enter his office.

"Yes, of course," she smiles and shakes his hand.

"I told Ashley she may be able to help us with this case."

"What's the case about?"

"We have an unsub who manages to live in close proximity to his victims without raising an alarm. That we've seen before. What's new here is what the local police are telling us about the community itself. Demographically, everyone's basically the same. Most of the parameters we would look for to build a profile seem to exist in most of the men. We thought if the unsub has children, and the statistics tell us that he probably does, would the children exhibit certain specific behavior?"

"So, this isn't about my academic scores?" she asks Rossi.

"No."

"Great. Give me fifteen minutes. I have a change of clothes in the car."

She turns to leave but Hotch stops her.

"Agent, we're not detailing you to the unit. We want to ask you some questions," Hotch says.

"Right," she nods. "I see."

"Do you have some concerns?"

"I want to help, and I know that I can, but I don't think I can tell you what to look for without seeing the families myself."

"Do you understand that you go only as a consultant on this one case?"

"I understand."

"You're to do nothing without another member of the team present."

"Yes, sir."

"This won't be easy, Ashley. It may trigger some extremely painful memories," Rossi says gently.

"I appreciate the concern, but when your father kills twenty-five women before you're a teenager, painful memories don't need a trigger. They just are."

She leaves the office and Rossi looks at Hotch knowingly.

"You know Y/N is going to know who she is immediately, right?"

"I know."

Hotch calls you into the office, and you enter right when Penelope does.

"I've notified the primary Detective and the Oak Tree Hills security office of your requirements. You should know that that security office is particularly efficient," she informs.

"Except someone's killing people right under their noses. Call me old-fashioned, but that doesn't seem like efficient security."

"Yeah. I'm running background checks on all the male residents, too."

"God. Check wider in New Mexico for similar crimes and stranglings in occupied dwellings."

"Wish you, command me. I shall call you the moment I have anything to contribute or an overwhelming desire to speak to my beautiful Derek Morgan, whichever comes first," she grins.

"Let me guess who'll win," Rossi chuckles.

"Mm-hmm and you'd be right. I bid you adieu and safe travels, mon ami."

Penelope leaves and Hotch looks at you.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because you'll figure it out on your own, and I don't want you saying anything about it unless she wants to talk about it." You look confused but allow Hotch to continue. "Ashley Seaver is going to be called on this case as an informant, but her last name isn't Seaver. It's Beauchamp."

"As in Charles Beauchamp? The Redmond Ripper?"

He killed twenty-five women before he was caught by Rossi and placed in prison for life. He killed those women all with a daughter under the same roof. How he managed to do that without tipping her off is beyond you. Maybe she knew but if she didn't... You can't imagine if it came out your own father was out there killing people without you knowing. No, he's not capable of something like that.

"Yes."

"Oh, wow. Um, I won't say anything. What about the rest of the team?

"They're going to need to know, but as far as how she wants to tell them, I thought we might play that by ear. I assume that she goes by Seaver because she doesn't want people to know who she is."

Ashley walks into the bullpen where Spencer, Derek, and Emily are, and the three of you walk over to them just as Ashley gets to them.

"Ashley, welcome. Agent trainee Seaver, they are supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan Y/N, and Dr. Reid."

"I've heard a lot about this team," she smiles.

"I hope it was all good," Derek chuckles.

"Very, sir."

"Anything specific? I mean about me in particular."

"Oh, please, don't encourage him," Emily rolls her eyes and Derek laughs.

"Agent Seaver is on loan to us from the academy while she's in remedial training with an injury."

"Concussion," she says before anyone can ask. "Hand-to-hand got a little out of control."

"I was remediated in the academy also," Spencer says.

"What was your issue?"

"What was my issue?" Derek snickers. "Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."

"He's very valuable to the team," you say and smile at Spencer.

"Agent Seaver's going to accompany us to New Mexico as a consultant," Hotch explains.

"On?"

"She has a unique perspective," Rossi answers.

"They don't know?"

"We weren't sure how you wanted to tell everyone."

"Seaver's not my original last name. It's my mother's maiden name. Mine used to be Beauchamp. My father is Charles Beauchamp."

"As in the 'Redmond Ripper' Charles Beauchamp?" She nods to Spencer. "He killed twenty-five women over ten years in rural North Dakota. I think that you caught him, right, Rossi?"

"Hotch was on that team, too."

"Based on her life experience, we were hoping that Agent Seaver might recognize something in the family dynamics inside the community that could be helpful. We have a plane waiting."

Ashley and Rossi leave but the rest of the team stays in the bullpen.

"Her father was a serial killer? That's definitely a different set of parameters," Emily says.

"I don't want her presence to get us sidetracked. It's a long shot that she's gonna see anything helpful. We work it like any other case."

"You got it." You and Spencer catch up with Ashley and Rossi in the elevator. "Hey, wait up. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm an empathetic psychic. I don't know if you believe in that sort of thing or not, but you're probably going to see me do stuff that's not exactly normal."

"I believe anything is possible."

"Good," you smile.

"She's the real deal," Rossi says.

"Since we're going to New Mexico, I think I'm going to fly from there to Vegas to pick up my mom. I already asked Hotch, and he said that was fine. We'll come down after that."

"Awesome," you smile.

The flight to New Mexico was uneventful; you mostly slept the whole time. After landing, the team takes two cars to the gated community, and you're greeted by security as soon as you pull up.

"ID, please."

Hotch presents his badge. "Agent Hotchner, FBI."

The gate is opened but Hotch doesn't get far since another man walks to the car.

"Harvey Brinkman, chief of security for the development. Detective Ruiz is in the model home. Park on the right."

"Thanks."

Hotch parks and Rossi parks right next to him before everyone files out of the cars. Spencer and Ashley were in Rossi's car so you're not sure what they're talking about, but you know Spencer is geeking out on her.

"The fact of the matter is, 'Beam me, up, Scotty' was never actually said. The closest they ever got was, 'Scotty, beam us up' in The Gamesters of Triskelion and The Savage Curtain episode, but interestingly enough--"

"Reid, come on," Derek cuts him off. "Give it a rest."

Spencer shuts his mouth, and you put a hand on his shoulder as a way to comfort him. You love his ramblings but there is a time and a place for it.

"Detective Ruiz?" Hotch asks when he walks into the model home.

"That's right. Call me Felix."

"I'm Agent Hotchner. These are agents Morgan, Prentiss, Y/N, Dr. Reid, Rossi, and Seaver."

"Thanks for coming. As your tech requested, we moved everything from the station right here into the model home."

"Agent Prentiss and I would love to take a look around and get a feel for the area," Derek says. "We'd like to see the latest crime scene, too, if that's possible."

"Of course. Let me just get everybody situated and I'll walk you over there."

"We can find it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's no problem."

You want to get a feel of the area and the residents, but you'll do that later. If the unsub lives in this community, then you have no doubt you'll be able to point him out. His energy will be all over the crime scene, and that means his house will be too. You look out the window and notice the neighbors standing outside with their eyes on the model home.

"They sure aren't the 'mind your own business' types," you mutter.

"How come none of them have seen our unsub?"

"He might not live here. Just a possibility."

Derek and Emily leave, and you look at Ashley when you feel a wave of uneasiness come from her. She's nervous. Unsure.

"Are you okay?" you whisper.

"Yeah, fine."

Felix shows you the boards he brought over from the police station. "These are the evidence boards. As you can see, we're still in the process of moving in. I didn't think the whole neighborhood needed to see the photos."

"You're right. It's a lot of work, Detective."

"Yeah, well, I'm not just the primary Detective. I also live in the community."

"Really?"

"Yeah, three blocks on the left. My wife thought it would be an excellent place to raise the kids. She's changed her opinion in the last couple of months. I hope you don't mind, but I also worked up a cursory profile."

"You did?" Hotch asks, surprised.

"Yeah. I took an FBI seminar on serial crime in Albuquerque. Twice."

"Okay, let's see what you've got so far."

"Alright. He's organized. He took everything to the scene and left nothing behind which means he lives with a spouse or some kind of long-term partner. Has a steady, skilled job. Physically, he presents himself as non-threatening, but he craves power and control so he may have a job or an activity that gives him that."

"Not bad," Rossi nods.

"Unfortunately, I just described sixty-four of the seventy-one men who live in the subdivision," Felix sighs.

With one phone call to Penelope, you're able to get information on all sixty-four suspects. You and Spencer are in the kitchen so you can talk to her without anyone else around.

"I just sent what is the whole kit and kaboodle on each of your sixty-four suspects. Nothing really stands out. They're all pretty plain."

"That's pretty much the main issue we're going to have here."

"Yeah. Vanilla doesn't make your job any easier."

Spencer looks at you. "No, it does not."

"So, um, how's it going with the agent whose father was a serial killer?"

"How do you know that?" you ask.

"I might have looked into someone's hidden background." You make a noise of surprise. "What? I am not gonna let some strange new person travel with my family and not find out who they are."

"She seems fine."

"She's nervous. I think it's about opening old wounds, but I think she'll be okay." Someone approaches you from behind. "We'll call you later."

"What was that about?

You turn to see the police chief, Harvey.

"Our technical analyst ran background checks on the suspects."

"Oh, I could have given you that."

"We typically gather our own intelligence. Our federal databases tend to have more detailed information."

"How do you know they're more detailed if you haven't seen ours?" he asks defensively.

"It's nothing personal, Chief," you say.

"You could have asked."

"Next time we will. Excuse us."

You grab Spencer's hand and drag him away from the head of security. He's not the unsub but he does come off a bit creepy. It's probably those sideburns. They're freakishly long.

"Has anyone vetted them?" Spencer asks Rossi.

"Garcia's doing a separate check on police and security staff."

"Why?" Ashley asks.

"Law enforcement and security are the kind of jobs that would attract this unsub. Dennis Rader, the BTK Killer, was a compliance officer in Park City, Kansas. Kenneth Bianchi, one of the Hillside Stranglers, worked as a security guard in California and Washington. Psychopaths love official jobs and uniforms."

"Did you interview every adult male in the community?" Hotch asks Felix.

"More than once. They're all digitized."

There's a bit of an edge to the detective's voice.

"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?"

"Is that wrong?"

"You didn't get much out of them, did you?"

"No. That's when I started thinking maybe I needed some help."

"All that stuff you said about BTK and the Hillside Strangler, it's all in your head?" Ashley asks Spencer.

You pull your eyes and ears away from Hotch and Felix to focus on Ashley and Spencer.

"I have an eidetic memory. Y/N has a photographic memory."

"So, you know everything my dad did, then?" Spencer nods. "I only know what I was told and what was in the papers. I don't have a lot of details."

"Details?"

"Agent Seaver." Their conversation is interrupted by Hotch. "There's going to be a community meeting tonight. We're going to all look for visual cues, but I want you specifically to concentrate on family interactions."

"Yes, sir."

"Cheif, we need to have a place to hold a town meeting."

"There's a church on the east side of the development."

"Will you have your men notify residents that there'll be a meeting there tonight at six? Stress that it's important but not compulsory."

"Yes."

x

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[zappedbyzabka]

Some of my general thoughts on CK season 6 part 3

Ralph and Billy's tearful scenes with 'Miyagi' and Kreese were phenomenal. They're such great actors 10/10.

I have a lot to say about Johnny's scene with Kreese but just to keep things short, I'll talk about that another time. But wow wow wow. Dominique Swain applauds.

Daniel's nonstop anxiety about his family getting hurt :/ least he had fun getting tipsy with his wife. Amanda looked gorgeous with that new hair (though she always does.) He really tapped into offense side this season. Looove how he knew exactly what to say to make Silver blank-face and leave lmao.

I'm SOOOO never getting over 'You're alright, Lawrence!' and lawrusso recreating the nose swipe scene with Daniel acting as Kreese for Johnny to inspire him. Johnny was MUCH enjoying that.

Daniel basically buying Johnny his building back?😭 AGHHHH. 'I believe in you'....

Tory being dressed in the same gi as young Johnny, and Robby being dressed in the Miyagi Do gi with a hurt leg—paralleling Daniel—in combination with those scenes being where they get back together makes me insane. Like, lawrusso in another universe.

I feel Robby could have gotten a more smoothed out and rewarding end but at the same time, I'm glad he's happy and taken care of now. Angel.

Sam and Tory's scenes together were so heartwarming. Especially the scene of Tory getting emotional over the LaRusso's kindness and generosity to her. Finally getting some one on one with Daniel and Johnny.

When Sam brought up having something to tell Daniel but being worried he'd be disappointed in her, my mind instantly went to a coming out scene tbh.

The montage of binary boyfriends and samtory as Bobby's reading the vows? What are you trying to say???

Bobby and Johnny meeting up again <333 Bobby still gives him that special 'I would actually do for you' stare (whether platonic or not) and I squeal about it. I love that Ron got some time to shine<333 I thought Jimmy would appear, but he sadly did not.

I also thought Anoush was gay but I was obviously mistaken since he was kissing Ralph's daughter (Julia's performance was hilarious.)

Silver speeding away with Johnny in that car was crazyyy. Billy had yet another Scott (not the werewolf) Mccall moment except he didn't get locked in a tower this time. You would've thought the employees would have seen Silver in the papers months ago and called the cops.

His envy over Daniel and Johnny having things to live for and people that actually love them was sad—especially with him being ill. If you think about it, Kreese was all he had besides the money, and when he didn't have Kreese the only way he had anyone around him was pretending to be someone else.

His jealousy over Kreese's love for Johnny really shined through as well with that 'I don't know why you messed up what I was doing with Kreese' (paraphrasing) and the way he called Kreese pathetic for groveling to Johnny no matter how many times he rejected him. Silver felt that he himself was pathetic for having always crawled back to Kreese no matter the rejection he faced.

Also the fucking grenade boat explosion scene??? INSANE???? Literally died in each other's arms. I know many people have problems with it but I don't see what else they really could have done for the two villains with endless crimes (which I love about them alright) that wouldn't be worse.

Think about how Silver probably thought he'd die alone, but didn't. When I realized Kreese was set on offing himself and taking Silver with him the whole time, and that was the reason he spent most of his scenes apologizing to the last few people he loved...

Would like to know more about what happened to Wolf. His bitchiness almost rivaled Johnny's, and damn did he eat up every scene he was in. Just a great character.

Johnny with the tailor? There's my prissy brat.

Considering everything wrong with the baby plot, I at least liked how they did end up choosing to show it. Johnny going full girl dad and being so sweet and coddling to the baby + Miguel and Robby made my heart SOAR. He's always been tender with them but the writers never really did let him to just relax and love. He deserves to be happy, like every imperfect victim irl and in fiction who gets bashed for not meeting people's standards does.

Carmen is a baddie. Just chilling truly